Read Little Wolves for Free Online

were loose near the county road.”
    Leah didn’t look back as she went to her car. “I was only here to pay my respects,” she said to Steve in a shaky voice. She opened the door and ducked inside. Safe behind tinted windows, she didn’t look at either man as she drove away.
    When she was gone, he told Steve everything was about as fine as expected. “Unless the sheriff has gotten into the fence-repair business.”
    Behind him, Grizz heard the cattle calling to one another as the bull led his harem and calves back inside the fence he’d wrecked. He turned in wonder. It didn’t make sense, and Grizz had never seen such a thing in all his life, but with the sun burning off the clouds, it was hot and already dry by early afternoon, the land drinking in what modest rain had fallen in the night. The pond in the lower pasture had dried up during the summer drought, but with fresh rain there’d be mud where the cows could cool themselves awhile. His cattle, which could have run free all day, were leading themselves back into captivity.
    “I’ll help,” Steve said, surprising him. The two men fanned out on either side and raised their arms and shouted at the stragglers in the yard, “Get along, girl,” and “move along, Bessie,” until the rest were inside the damaged fence.
    Grizz went to get his tools, the girl’s words churning in his head. Seth had been hurt. He had been scared, but he hadn’t come to his father for help.
    Steve touched his mustache, ran his hands over his chin. Beads of sweat stood out on the fat man’s forehead from the little effort it had taken to corral the cattle. “Look, Grizz,” he began, “the other night I said some terrible things.”
    Grizz picked up his shovel and the staves and wire clamps he’d left lying in the grass. “There’s things I have to do,” he told him as he went to the barn to shut off the fence’s electricity so he could make repairs. This new Steve, his voice slick with concern, scared him. He preferred theone who came to his house two nights before and spit in his drink. If he said anything else, if he said what he was truly feeling in that moment, it would reveal all Leah had confided. Because if Will Gunderson kept a shack in those woods, then Steve, his predecessor, surely knew about it. Seemed like everyone knew but Grizz.
    “You’re a hard man to reach,” Steve said when Grizz came back outside. He licked his lips. “Church council met last night. It was decided your son would be buried in the suicide corner of the cemetery.”
    “No,” Grizz said. How could he have forgotten? This town and its sick traditions. “You wait just a goddamn minute. I want him buried next to his mother. I own the plot.”
    “And you signed a contract that spells out what happens in the event of a suicide. The rules are very clear on this. He’ll have to be buried in the corner with the other suicides.”
    Grizz felt the heat of the sun on the back of his neck, filling him up. His fists tightened around the shovel. “I intend to speak to the pastor about all of this.”
    “Pastor Logan has already been informed of the council’s decision.”
    Was it his imagination, or did Steve’s mouth curve in a small smile under the mustache? He turned his back on the sheriff and headed for the broken fence. Steve followed just as he knew he would. When Grizz heard his footsteps behind him, he turned and swung the shovel with all his might. He pivoted, planting his feet andthrowing his entire body into the swing. The clamps and staves fell away in a clatter. In his mind’s eye, he saw the fanged edge of that old shovel cleave into Steve’s neck, saw the first bright geyser of red erupt, saw him fall, his mouth opening in surprise.
    But Steve was a cunning man and knew what Grizz was about, so where he thought the man’s head or neck might be instead there was only air, and the violence of that swing twisted him badly on his hips, and he felt something tear inside when he