Read Shiloh Season for Free Online Page B

around my house, won't even answer, got something on their minds besides play. I'm no fool. It was you or that boy, or maybe the both of you, who scratched up my truck, I'm willing to bet, and I catch you over here again, I just may pull that trigger. A man's got a right to protect his property."
    "Judd, I ..."
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    "Go on home, you hear me?"
    Judd's standing there with a wrench in his hand, and his face has gone from plain ugly to pure ugly-not a spark of kindness in those eyes at all.
    When I don't move, he yells, "Git!" and takes a step forward, and that's when I turn and head for home.
    Oh boy, I've done it now. I kick at a rock just about as hard as I can kick and send it flying into Middle Island Creek. I tell the truth, and look what happens.
    Can't believe Judd would really put a bullet in me if he sees me over his way again, but I'm thinking he might could put a bullet in the living thing I love almost more'n anything else in the world. I sure can't go on like this, that much I know.
    Dad's working outside when I get home, getting ready to mow. I stand over him as he pours gasoline in the mower. "Somethin' on your mind?" he asks.
    "I wonder if Judd's drinking on account of me," I say, trying to edge in easy on the subject. Dad won't like to hear that David and me were over at Judd's last night any more than Judd did.
    Dad looks at me, screws the lid back on the gasoline can, then straightens up. "Now what put an idea like that in your head?"
    "I was thinking how after I got Shiloh and worked for Judd, I never went back anymore. I think Judd sort of got used to me being around-somebody for him to talk to."
    "Probably so, but I don't think a man starts drinking because an eleven-year-old boy don't show up. Judd's got problems that don't have anything to do with you, Marty. He sure wouldn't get no prize for getting along with people."
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    "But he says those things about Shiloh-about me taking his dog and all."
    "Judd'll jaw on about anything, you give him a chance. You know that. You know and I know and he knows that you earned that dog. Why do you keep worrying about it?"
    "I'm afraid he'll get drunk sometime and shoot Shiloh." "Well, I'm worried he'll get drunk, go hunting up in our woods with his rifle, and a stray bullet will hit one of you kids," Dad says. "You want to worry about something real, take that one."
    "But after all I did to protect Shiloh-the way that dog come to me-I just couldn't stand it if anything was to happen to him now," I say. I follow Dad as he pushes the mower over to a comer of our yard. "Couldn't we ... well, invite Judd to dinner or something? Make like we're really friends?"
    Dad's looking question marks at me. "Marty, no more'n two months ago, you were hating Judd Travers worse'n a rattlesnake, and now you want to invite him home?"
    "Just to keep on his good side." I'm thinking maybe now is the time I should tell Dad I was over at Judd's, but there's something about him that stops me.
    Dad rests his hands on the handle of the mower and takes in a big breath. "Fact is," he says, not looking directly at me, "when I was up to see Judd last week, I lost my temper. I'm not proud of it, but it happened. I showed him the beer can, and reminded him our woods and fields are posted, and all he did was cuss me out."
    I'm staring. "He cussed you?"
    "Said I was a sorry kind of neighbor to keep my land all for myself to hunt on. Said if he'd known what a miserly skunk I was, he'd never have let you have that dog at all. In
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    fact, he says that because he did give him to you, he could hunt wherever he pleased. That was part of the bargain."
    "That's not true!" I yell, my face hot.
    "I know it isn't, Marty. Judd was drunk as a coot when he said that, and I should have come home and gone back again when he was sober. But I got a temper, too, when I'm riled. I told him I ever find him hunting on my land, I'm calling the sheriff. That's why I don't want him at our table right now. I'm not asking him to