Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) by A. American (ebook reader .TXT) 📕

had two occupants and when they came to stop, the two men in one of the machines quickly hopped out. They were both armed with rifles and looked at me uneasily. The other machine had carried an older man and a woman.

The older man wore an immaculately clean straw hat, pressed jeans and what looked like a freshly starched shirt. He had the look of man that no longer worked cows. But everything about him said he had for most of his life. The woman with him was probably in her thirties and beautiful. She had long auburn hair and was dressed like the others in jeans, a checked shirt and a cowboy hat. She also wore a nicely tooled leather gun belt around her waist and carried herself with an air of confidence.

The older man walked towards me and I moved down the fence line to a clear spot where we could talk. The woman came with him, not following, but beside him as an equal. When he got to the fence, the man held his hand out and said, “Dave McFarland’s the name. This is my daughter Janet.”

I shook his hand, “Nice to meet you Dave. I’m Morgan.”

A sly smile cut his face and he said, “Oh, I know who you are, Morgan Carter.”

His comment caught me off guard. “How do you know my name?”

“Everyone knows who the Sheriff is,” Janet replied.

I looked at her, “Well, I hope it’s for a good reason. Nice to meet you as well, Janet.”

She tipped her hat and replied, “Pleasure.”

“I have to admit, I was shocked when I saw the cows. I really didn’t think there were any left.”

Dave looked back at the small herd. “That’s only a little piece of them. We have over three hundred head.”

I was dumbfounded, “What?” Was all I could muster.

He smiled. “Used to have a lot more. But we’ve pretty well taken care of the cattle rustlers in these parts.”

“Your man there showed me the rope. I hope you didn’t lose many.”

“So, the Sheriff ain’t got no problem with me hanging rustlers?”

I shook my head. “Hell no. Serves ‘em right. Besides, saves me from having to deal with it had you been so inclined to involve me. I believe folks can and should take care of themselves. The days of the nanny state are over.”

Dave chewed on those words for a minute before looking at his daughter and saying, “You were right.”

Curious, I asked, “In what regard?”

Dave took his hat off and mopped at his bald head with a handkerchief. “That you weren’t some busybody do-gooder out to get into people’s business. Into their lives.”

“No. Me and the deputies with me are here to help people. You need us, we’ll be there. Otherwise, I like a nice quiet life.”

“Hasn’t been much quiet,” Janet chimed in. “We saw what happened to town and heard what you did about it.”

“That wasn’t so much me as it was my military counterparts. They organized that little deal. They handle the military stuff and I try to deal with the civilian stuff.”

“That’s the way it ought to be,” Dave replied. “These military folks, whose side are they on?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Do they still answer to the President?”

I laughed. “No. If you knew these men, you’d know better than that. They answer to the DOD. And me,” I added as an afterthought.

“You?” Janet asked.

“Yeah, their superiors consider me the local civilian authority, and as such, they have to answer to me. But these men are my friends and I leave them to do what needs to be done. If they need my help, I help them. If I need theirs, they stand ready as well.”

“This is sounding better all the time,” Dave said. “But I have one question, who made you the local civilian authority?”

I scratched my head, “Well, there’s the funny part. The military did. It was actually the local commander of the National Guard unit in Eustis that did it. Then the folks higher up the chain of command accepted it as fact. I was never consulted about it. I just stepped in and did what needed doing.”

“Morgan, we’ve stayed out of things to this point. Not really sure who was who or what was what. But now that we’ve talked, and I see you’re not some jackleg looking to be king, we’d like to help out a bit. What can we do to assist with all the wounded folks in town?”

That surprised me. “Well, a beef donated to the folks would be real nice. Food, as you know, is pretty scarce for a lot folks.”

Dave nodded. “Done. Anything else?”

“I can’t really think of anything right now. But I do have a question.”

“What’s that?”

“You selling any cows?”

“This is a cattle ranch. But money is an uncertain issue at the moment. What are you offering? I’d take silver or gold.”

Nodding, I replied, “We have that. But would you be interested in trading for some hogs?”

“Hogs?” Dave asked with surprise.

“Yeah. I’ve got a bunch of hogs. Plus, I’ve got something else you could probably use.”

The haggler in Dave was coming out and he looked down his nose at me and asked, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Well, I would imagine this place has a tractor or two and probably a couple of trucks that still run. I’ve got diesel fuel.”

While he was interested in the hogs, the mention of the fuel visibly excited him. He slowly started to nod his head. “I think we can make a deal.” Looking at Janet, he asked, “How many heifers we got carrying calves right now?”

“About seventy-five.”

Dave pointed at me in the way a man willing to make a deal will do. “Tell you what, Morgan. I’ll give you two pregnant heifers that’ll calve soon. That gives you four head, for five hundred gallons of diesel and four hogs.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I made a visible play of thinking it over. “Five hundred gallons is a lot of fuel. How about three