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They were in the hog house and out within the allotted thirty minutes, hogs grunting and squealing in the cattle truck as it made its way back to the main road. Randy and Hart stayed behind to chase about fifty head of cattle across the ground to cover the truck tires, and then jogged to the truck.
“Next stop—Salt Holler and turnin’ these over to Wallace,” Eli said.
To get to Salt Holler, they had to cross a bridge that should have fallen down years ago and would in no way support a cattle truck. Besides, there was a gate with a padlock closing off the bridge. Eli parked on the far end and grew impatient with the wait after ten minutes.
“Where is he?” Randy asked.
“It’s only eleven fifteen,” Hart said. “Don’t go pissin’ your pants yet. Benediction ain’t over until smack up twelve o’clock. And if the preacher calls on Quaid Brennan to give it, it might last another ten minutes past that. He does love the sound of his own voice.”
Five minutes later, Wallace appeared at the other end of the bridge in an old beat-up pickup with a cage on the back. He was a big man with a bald head and wire-rimmed glasses. He came to the end of the bridge, unlocked the gate and threw it up, and then he held up one finger.
Fog settled around the bridge, giving it an eerie feeling. A freezing mist had started falling that morning. It reminded Hart of an old black-and-white movie about villains appearing in a fog. Wallace didn’t look like a machine-gun-toting gangster as he crossed arms as big as hams over his wide chest and waited. But something about his stance made him every bit as scary.
“What does that mean?” Eli asked.
“I reckon he wants one of us to meet him there. I’ll go,” Hart said.
He bailed out of the truck and stuck out his hand as he drew close to Wallace. “Hello, I’m…”
“That’ll be far enough, son, and I don’t need to know your name,” Wallace said in a deep voice. “Y’all boys get that truck turned around, and then set them pigs loose on this bridge. I’ll let my hog dogs out of the truck, and between them and my family, we’ll herd them hogs to where we want them. Y’all best keep quiet about this sale, because if the law comes snoopin’ around Salt Holler, it’s your face that I’m keepin’ in my head.”
One of Wallace’s front teeth was slightly longer than the other one. He didn’t blink, and his expression didn’t change a whit. Hart felt like he was standing before the devil on judgment day.
“That’s a narrow dirt road out there, sir. I’m not so sure we can turn the truck around,” Hart said.
“Little place a hun’erd yards backwards that you can nose into, and then back it up to the edge of the bridge. Time you get that done, my family and friends will be here to herd hogs. Once you open the truck gate, your job is done. Now you can get on back in your seats, and I’ll slap the side right hard when we get the last one out. That’s your signal to get the hell away from Salt Holler.”
Hart nodded.
“You be rememberin’ what I said, boy,” Wallace said. “And tell your granny that it was a pleasure doin’ business with her.”
“Yes, sir,” Hart said and jogged back to the truck, his cowboy boots sounding like they were beating on a snare drum with every step.
“What did he say?” Eli asked.
A cold shiver ran down Hart’s back when he relayed what Wallace had said. “I don’t think it’s only our cattle truck that isn’t allowed to cross that bridge. It’s anyone that doesn’t live in Salt Holler.”
“How do you reckon they intend to get all those hogs across that bridge?” Randy asked. “There’s got to be fifty or sixty back there.”
“It’s need to know, and we don’t,” Hart said.
Eli put the truck in reverse and watched his side mirrors until he saw the dirt pathway cutting off to the south. He carefully backed into it and then pulled out as if going back the way he came from. When he looked in his mirror again, people lined both sides of the bridge and Wallace waited at the end with a hand up in the air. When the hand went down, Eli applied the brakes.
Hart opened the door, and Wallace yelled, “Y’all boys stay on in the truck. Gates ain’t locked. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Hart slammed the door shut and waited. “This feels crazy, like a scary movie.”
“Granny knows what she’s doin’,” Randy said. “Them Brennans embarrassed us and caused a hell of a lot of damage to the ranch house at the Christmas party when they pulled that plate glass window right out of the wall. Had to replace the carpet and redo the whole damn room, and like to have never got them cows out of the house. We can put up with a scary movie long enough to get these hogs out of the truck.”
“Then we drive out to Mingus and get to eat at the Smokestack for supper. Lord, I love that food,” Eli said.
“But we will miss getting to meet Tyrell’s new woman when he brings her to supper. I’d love to see Quaid’s face when he loses his hogs and his woman both.” Randy laughed.
“We’ll go to Polly’s tomorrow night and see her. I hear she’s the barmaid there at night, and that Gladys’s new foreman is the grill cook.”
Wallace slammed the gates shut and rattled the side of the trailer. Eli shifted gears and pulled out.
“We did it,” Randy said. “We got our first assignment from Granny, and we did it.”
“Y’all know what we have done is felony larceny, don’t you?” Hart asked.
Randy slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be studyin’ law right now, Cousin. Just be a Gallagher.”
They were heading south on Interstate 35 when the church doors opened and kids poured out like puppies let out of a kennel to romp and play in the pasture.
* * *
After the last amen had been said, the Brennan family surrounded Jill, throwing out so many names that they all mixed together. No way would she remember any of them, except Kinsey, with the extra makeup on one cheek, and Quaid with a black eye and a cut across his nose. It was amazing that corn could do that to a big, strong man when it fell from a distance of six feet.
She spotted Sawyer’s black truck pulling out of the parking lot as she and Quaid made their way to his big white double-cab vehicle with an extra-long bed. She was in the process of snapping her seat belt when a bright red truck skidded to a stop right in front of her eyes. Tyrell blew her a kiss, held up five fingers, and then sped off toward the only paved road in Burnt Boot. She hadn’t seen a single sign to point her toward anything but a one-Sunday-stand for both of the feuding families.
“Hungry?” Quaid’s felt hat preceded him into the truck and found its place in the backseat. He strapped the seat belt in place and started up the engine.
“Starving,” she said.
“It’s a potluck, so there will be plenty.”
“You should have told me. I would have brought something. Your family will think I’m horrible, showing up empty-handed,” she said.
“My family will think that you are adorable. And guests aren’t expected to bring food. A heads-up though. Kinsey’s potato salad is fantastic, but Granny’s beet salad tastes like shit.” He laughed.
His laughter was as deep as his voice and downright sexy. His jeans were creased perfectly, his white shirt spotless, and his leather sports jacket fit his wide shoulders like a glove. Three years ago she would have stumbled over her own two feet to get him to ask her out.
Sawyer had told her to forget about the feud, the size of the ranches and bank accounts, and to focus on the man. There was not one thing wrong with Quaid so far. If he kissed as good as he looked, he’d be quite the catch, but there wasn’t a bit of zing, not a single spark or bit of fizzle between them.
“Penny for your thoughts.” He pulled out onto the road and turned right.
“Hundred dollar bills couldn’t buy them.” She smiled. “How far is it to River Bend?”
“River Bend is to your right, but it’s about three miles to the lane back to the main house. River Bend is a conglomerate of several ranches. We’ve already passed the road back to my land. Anytime you want a tour, I’ll be glad to give you one. I’ve got about a thousand acres.”
“How does that work?”
“The land from Fiddle Creek west for more than twenty miles belongs to the Gallagher families, and the whole thing makes up River Bend. Granny still lives in the main house with her youngest son, my uncle, and his family. That’s where we’re going for dinner today. Kinsey is my sister and has a part-time job as a paralegal in Gainesville, but she helps me out on my ranch too. I hate paperwork, so she takes care of that, and she’s good at it,” Quaid explained.
“And the whole family is going to be there today?” she asked.
“Everyone that took up our side of the church.” He smiled. “Just lookin’ over at you makes my heart jump around in my chest. You are gorgeous this morning, Jill. Your sweater is the same color as your mesmerizing eyes.”
It might not be the best pickup line she’d ever heard, but it wasn’t too bad, and he did seem sincere.
“And here we are.” He pulled the truck under a covered circular drive, handed the keys off to a short fellow in a heavy coat and a cowboy hat, and hurried around the front of the truck to open the door for her. The guy didn’t look like a butler or a valet, but evidently he was serving as both, because he opened the double front doors for them when they crossed the wide veranda.
“I’ll put it close by, Mr. Quaid,” he said before he trotted back to the truck. A glance over her shoulder showed that the pasture beside the house was filled with vehicles of one kind or other, with the majority going toward trucks.
Quaid ushered her inside with a hand on her lower back, helped her remove her coat before he took his off, and handed both to an older woman who said, “Welcome to River Bend, Miz Jill. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Rita, one of the housekeepers.”
Double doors were opened into a massive room to the right where people had already gathered. The aroma of food mingled with scented candles in the middle of at least a dozen round tables with snowy white cloths. A potluck, her ass, this was a full-fledged party, even if there was every kind of food imaginable lined up on tables over there against the wall.
A tall woman with black hair and eyes almost that dark crossed the room and held out her hand to Jill. “I’m Mavis Brennan. Welcome to our little place. You should have brought Gladys with you. She and I go way back.”
“Thank you. Aunt Gladys is going back to the hospital to stay with Aunt Polly. I’ll tell her that you asked about her,” Jill said. “You have a lovely home. Everything looks and smells wonderful.”
Mavis nodded. “I love it when I can gather them all home, even if it’s only for dinner. Declan, darlin’, come meet Jill. This is Declan, my grandson. He and Leah live here with me. And please give my best to Polly. We’ll be praying that she gets along all right with this ankle. At our age, we don’t heal like you young folks do.”
Declan nodded and said something about being pleased to meet her, and then he was gone.
Quaid’s arm slipped possessively around Jill’s shoulders. “I think it’s almost time to eat. We have a place at the head table with Granny.”
“Yes, you do. I want you to sit right beside me. You tell Polly to do what they say, because if you ever sit down at our age, you wind up moldin’ and dyin’. We’ll hope to see you often here at River Bend.” Mavis smiled. “I hear you are working at the bar and the store while she’s out of commission. I’m sure you’ll see lots of Quaid at Polly’s. My husband’s old granddaddy would have had a fit if he’d known one of his kin was in a bar, but times are changing.”
Quaid tapped a water glass with a knife, and the whole room went silent. “Granny, will you say grace?”
“I’m going to ask Declan to do that for us today,” she said.
Declan bowed his head, but Jill caught the look on his face and the way he rolled his eyes before he closed them. So the Brennan family had a black sheep, and its name was Declan.
With his hand on her lower back, Quaid steered her toward the table with Mavis and half a dozen other family members. Seated between Quaid and Mavis, she felt like a heifer at the county fair. All eyes were on her, and she was expected to perform well so she’d win the big trophy and a bunch of blue ribbons.
“Jill, this is my uncle Russell. He’s Leah and Declan’s father, and they live here in the big house with Granny,” Quaid said.
Jill smiled and nodded at them. “Pleased to meet you all.”
Like Sawyer told her, she assigned animals to each face. She couldn’t think of a single animal that Mavis would resemble, with her height, her round face and thick neck, blue eyes, and black hair right out of a beauty shop bottle. She didn’t need to, because Mavis wore confidence as well as she did that tailor-made royal-blue suit and that sparkly set of wedding rings that would rival the crown jewels. She’d never forget her name.
A tall, lanky kid that hadn’t grown into his height made his way from the back of the room to their table and whispered in Mavis’s ear. She turned scarlet and slapped the table with such force that the water glasses shook.
“She’s gone too damned far,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Grandma?” Quaid said softly.
“My hogs are gone. They vanished in the damned air while we were in church this morning. Every single one of them.” Every word got louder, until she was yelling at the end and the whole room went silent.
“Maybe they got out and they’re runnin’ around on the ranch,” Quaid said.
The kid shook his head. “Daddy said to tell Miz Mavis that we checked the whole place. There isn’t a single gate open or break in the fence. There’s not even any hog footprints around the place showin’ where they got out. All we got is cattle prints. It’s like they grew wings and flew.”
Mavis was on her feet. “Russell?”
He was already pushing back his chair when he said, “You going with me, Mama?”
“Yes, I am. You will all excuse us. Please finish your food and enjoy the afternoon.” Mavis didn’t even try to lower her voice as she and Russell stormed out of the room. “That damned Naomi Gallagher will pay for this. She did it while we were all in church and the ranch was unprotected. Dammit all to hell! Well, as of right now, we’ll be standin’ guard, and she’d better watch out, because I’m not takin’ this layin’ down.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Jill asked.
“She will be,” Quaid said. “The Gallaghers shouldn’t have messed with her pigs. She doesn’t trust anyone to take care of them but Adam and his daddy. They know pigs better than anyone in these parts, except for those folks who live down in Salt Holler. Granny hates store-bought meat with a passion.”
“This is personal, and Naomi is in deep shit,” Kinsey said from the far end of the table. “Grandma is liable to jerk every hair out of Naomi’s head when she confronts her.”
“Dear God,” Quaid groaned. “I’d best go make sure Uncle Russell can handle them both. I hate to do this, Jill, but…”
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“This is not the way I expected our first date to go. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he said.
She laid her napkin on the table and stood up. “No problem.”
Quaid made a phone call on his way to collect their jackets, and the truck was waiting in front of the door when they arrived.
Mavis shook her head and her finger at the same time. “What in the hell are you doin’ here? You’ve got a date.”
“Where are you going?” Quaid asked.
“I’m going to shoot Naomi Gallagher,” Mavis said.
“Then I’m going to keep you out of jail.”
“How can you do that? You aren’t a lawyer. I’d do better with Kinsey.” Mavis buckled the seat belt and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
“Well, you’ve got me,” Quaid said.
Russell turned to his nephew. “One of the others can go. You’ve got plans.”
“I’m the one who’s here. We need any more help, someone will be there in ten minutes,” Quaid said.
Russell nodded. “Sorry about this, Jill. You’ll have to come back another time. Let’s go see if we can straighten this out. She’s liable to have a stroke and really shoot Naomi if she finds out for sure that she’s behind this.”
“Why would your grandma think the Gallaghers stole her hogs?” Jill asked as she settled into the passenger’s seat and Quaid started the engine.
“It’s a long story. Our families have feuded for more than a hundred years.”
She pretended to not know anything. “Like the Hatfields and McCoys?”
He nodded. “Modern day. So far none of us have murdered each other, but it might be comin’ if Naomi stole Grandma’s pigs.”
“Why would she do that, anyway, if she does turn out to be the thief? And, besides, wasn’t she in church this morning? How could a little old lady do that?”
Quaid’s jaw worked like he was chewing bubble gum. “She wouldn’t, but her family would. This is horrible. We shouldn’t be following Grandma out to Wild Horse Ranch to confront Naomi on our first date.”
First date, hell. It was their last date. She didn’t want to be mixed up in any of this shit. To top it all off, she’d be there with Quaid, with all appearances saying she was supporting the Brennans, and she had a supper date with Tyrell Gallagher. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell Sawyer all about it. Come to think of it, he was at the Gallaghers right now, having dinner with them. Did that mean they were on opposing teams?
They reached the stone entrance into Wild Horse, and a man held up a hand to stop them from crossing the cattle guard. Russell and Quaid both rolled down their driver’s side windows and leaned out.
“Mama has come to talk to Naomi,” Russell shouted.
“Brennans don’t come no closer, and they do not cross onto Wild Horse. Read the sign.” He pointed.
“Trespassers will be prosecuted. Brennans will be shot,” Jill read aloud. “Do they mean it?”
“We’ve got one on our fences, only it says that Gallaghers will be shot,” Quaid said. “We mean it. We assume they do.”
“We just want Naomi to tell Mama that she had nothing to do with her hogs going missing this mornin’,” Russell said.
“Granny is entertaining dinner guests. Y’all go on back home.”
“Did the Gallaghers steal our hogs?” Russell asked.
“You call the sheriff. He can come onto Wild Horse and check every square inch of our property. You won’t find a single hog here. We don’t raise those filthy things, and we damn sure don’t want them on our place. They stink worse than Brennans.”
The passenger side door opened, and Mavis crawled out. She marched right up to the stone entryway, but she didn’t put a foot on the cattle guard. “I know Naomi is behind this, and those hogs were worth enough that this will draw someone some jail time when I find them. You tell her that she’s going to wish she’d never been born.”
“Get on out of here, you crazy old woman,” the man said.
Russell pushed out of the truck and marched right up to the man. “You don’t talk to my mama like that.”
“Well, you don’t accuse my granny of thievery,” the man yelled back in his face.
“You better hope she didn’t instigate this, or she’ll spend the rest of her years behind bars. I don’t give a shit if she’s an old dingbat who steals pigs,” Russell yelled.
The man threw the first punch.
Jill sat there in stunned silence.
Quaid groaned and slung open his door, left it hanging in the cold wind, and ran onto Wild Horse property to separate the two men rolling around on the ground in their Sunday best. The first person he had to get control of was Mavis. She was kicking, hitting, and slapping the Gallagher grandson like a madwoman.
Since she was his date, Jill thought that she really should go help Quaid, but she didn’t want to be accused of fighting for either side. She heard him yell her name, and she bailed out of the truck.
“Sit with Granny in the truck while I get a handle on Daddy. I swear he will be in the hospital with chest pains over this,” Quaid said.
“Damn rotten Gallaghers. Lower than chicken shit. I swear they should be wiped off the face of the earth,” Mavis cussed as she strapped her seat belt. “Dammit to hell!” Mavis hit the dashboard hard enough to wince. “Now I’ll have a bruise on my hand, and that’s her fault too. Next time I see her outside of church, I’m going to scratch her old eyes out and feed them to the coyotes.”
Russell was huffing and puffing when Quaid finally pulled the two men apart and guided his father back to the truck. The grandson had taken his phone from his pocket and was making a call as they drove away.
Jill checked the clock on the dashboard. The whole thing hadn’t lasted fifteen minutes, but when it was going on, it seemed like a month. Maybe she should have kept right on driving to Wyoming or Montana instead of coming to Burnt Boot. There were ranches there that could always use help.
* * *
Betsy sat on one side of Sawyer with one of the Gallagher cousins, Eli, on Sawyer’s other side. Naomi Gallagher, the queen of the Gallagher clan, was on the other side of Betsy. It was easy to see where Betsy got her red hair and her spiciness. When she was seventy years old, she’d probably look and act just like Naomi. It wouldn’t surprise Sawyer if Betsy didn’t grow up to be the next Gallagher matriarch who carried the feud flag for the family.
The salad was crisp. The potato soup scrumptious. The steaks out-of-this-world tender. Then there was dessert, which was turtle cheesecake served with good dark coffee. He’d barely gotten the first bite into his mouth when Betsy’s hand slipped under the floor-length tablecloth and started at his knee and made a slow journey to his thigh.
He cut his eyes over at her to see that she had turned to say something to her grandmother. Evidently she caught him looking at her from her peripheral vision, because she gave his thigh a gentle squeeze and moved on up to start massaging what lay beneath his zipper.
He inhaled deeply, and she patted his thigh before she turned with a smile and whispered, “Just a taste of what is to come later when we take a tour of the ranch.”
The steak didn’t taste nearly as good after that as he tried desperately to think of an excuse to go home early. “Pardon me,” he said. “My phone is buzzing. I’m so sorry. I have the sound turned off, but…”
He removed the phone from his pocket and took a look at it. “I’m sorry, Betsy, but I have to take this. I’ll step outside. Y’all excuse me.”
Putting the phone to his ear, he laid the white linen napkin on the table and nodded a couple of times on his way through the door out onto the patio. “Yes, I’ll be right there,” he said in case anyone was watching and could read lips.
“What is it?” Betsy said so close behind him that he jumped.
“It’s Gladys. She’s gone to the hospital to be with Polly, and there’s a cow down having trouble. I need to go pull a calf. Sorry to cut this short,” he said.
“How’d she know that if she’s at the hospital?” Betsy asked.
“A kid on a four-wheeler called her. Don’t know who it was.”
“Well, darlin’, good things come to those who wait, and you are worth waiting for. Next weekend, we’ll give it another whirl.” Betsy plastered herself to his body, tangled her fist into his hair, and rolled up on her toes to kiss him. He’d never felt less passion, heat, or feeling in a kiss before in his entire life. It was more like his mouth had been attacked than kissed.
“I’m not making promises for anything,” he said when he could break away. “What with Gladys and Polly both busy, Jill and I are going to have our hands full. Give my apologies to your grandmother for leaving early, and I’ll see you around,” he said as he made a hasty retreat to his truck.
A couple of men waved him through the cattle guard, and he could have sworn he saw a redhead in the back of a truck barreling down the highway at breakneck speed on his way back to the main road. But Betsy was in the house with her family, and there was no way Jill Cleary would be headed for Wild Horse.
* * *
Quaid drove right up in front of the bunkhouse, held the truck door open for her, and walked her up to the porch.
“Again, I’m sorry for all this,” he said.
“Not a problem. Stuff happens in all families,” she said.
She had two hours to change clothes and get ready for supper on the Gallagher side of Fiddle Creek. What she really wanted was a long, long nap and a big thick book to read until she fell asleep, but a promise was a promise. And once she’d done her duty at Wild Horse, then she’d never set foot on either ranch again.
He removed his hat and held it in one hand while he ran the back of his other one down her cheek from temple to chin. “I want to spend more time with you, Jill. Next time we’ll take a drive around all of River Bend, and I’ll show you where Kinsey and I call home. We’ll steer clear of the feuding business.”
His green eyes went all soft and dreamy. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue a moment before the kiss. It was a good kiss, a man’s kiss who’d honed his craft to an art; one that left no doubt that Declan wasn’t the only black sheep on River Bend. One hand had tangled itself into her hair for leverage. The other had slid down below belt level on her slim-cut denim skirt to cup her butt. Her hormones should have been humming, but there wasn’t a peep out of them.
“Until next time. I’ll be by the store tomorrow,” he whispered seductively.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” She took a step back and opened the door.
He brushed a sweet kiss across her lips and settled his hat back on his blond hair.
The second one didn’t stir up anything more than the first one did. Not even one little hitch in her heartbeat. Maybe there was something drastically wrong with her.
Chapter 6
“Cinderella made it home, did she?” Sawyer peeked over the back of the sofa. His dark eyes still had sleep in them, and his face showed slight amusement. “Did poor old Quaid get a good-bye kiss, or was the afternoon so good that it was a see-you-later kiss? I heard that you had to cut your dinner short, since there was a pig incident.”
She pushed his legs off the sofa and melted into the corner. “You should have been there, Sawyer, instead of up there in the big house, eating dinner with the Gallaghers. The Brennans figured out that the pigs had been stolen, and Mavis tried to kick the shit out of one of Naomi Gallagher’s grandsons.”
Sawyer’s skin turned scarlet. “You’re shittin’ me, and I missed it all for a damn steak that wasn’t even good.”
“How’d you get home before me, anyway?”
“I made the excuse that I needed to do the evening chores early. Hey, did I see you in a truck headed toward the Gallagher place?”
She pushed him on the shoulder. “You probably did, because I was.”
He grabbed his shoulder and faked injury. “Don’t be mean to me.”
“I wouldn’t do that to a man I’m livin’ with,” she said. “If you can get me out of this next date, I’ll clean the whole bunkhouse next week.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. You gave your word. Tyrell will be here with roses in his hand in fifty-five minutes, but I do make this promise. I’ll do my damnedest to run interference, so you won’t have to go out with them again, if you’ll do the same for me. Looks like we are going to have to watch each other’s backs, or we’ll both go down as collateral damage in this war. Now tell me more about this pig thing.”
“I’m tired. I don’t want to go. I don’t want roses. I’d rather stay here and tell you what happened when they fired the first shot of the pig war,” she whined.
“You’ve got enough time to do both.” He grinned. “So start talking. Gladys laughed when she called me and said the same thing, that it would be known as the pig war.”
Jill told the story from start to finish, omitting the kiss at the end. “Now tell me how it looked from the other end.”
“I wouldn’t know. I must’ve left just before the fireworks. Betsy felt me up under the tablecloth, so I faked a phone call. I’m supposed to be pulling a calf right now, but I don’t think God will lay the sin of lying to my charge when it comes to Betsy. Lord, that woman is brazen.”
Jill gasped. “You are kiddin’ me. She actually did that?”
“Yes, she did. Right up my knee to…”
She slapped her hands over her ears. “Hush! That goes beyond brazen. Did she kiss you too?”
“If you call that grinding of two lips against mine, then I guess she did. You didn’t answer me about Quaid. Kiss or no kiss?”
“Kiss. Not bad. Not good. Generic, I guess. Rub my feet, and tell me that you’ll call the Gallaghers and tell them I have an intestinal flu and can’t go to their place.”
“Nope. I have to go listen to the Brennans bitch because their hogs have been stolen, so you have to go to the Gallaghers. Take off your high heels and throw those feet up here. Poor little things. The way you women punish them with those kinds of shoes should be a sin.”
Chapter 7
