Numbers

by M.L. Bushman

"Eli, meet Jeremiah," Tom said, "Becky's oldest."

"Yours, too, Dad," he reminded Tom rather curtly and stuck his hand out to me. "He likes to forget I'm his first."

I shook the boy's hand, Jesse's mouth tightened and he moved a few steps away to make room for Jeremiah at the corral fence.

Tom said, "It's just easier to explain that way."

"Well, I don't like the way you say it," Jeremiah announced, facing the horses.

Tom rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "Few horses you say?" he said to me, who nodded.

"Come on," I said, leading off toward the barn. "Might as well pick you out some tack, then saddle up and take us a short ride." When Jesse held back, I waved him to join us. "Gonna need you, too. Got the perfect horse for you, I think." And I did, a nice black mare, big as Cricket, near as smart.

Jeremiah scowled, marching next to his father.

Two boys, younger than Jesse by a year or so, intercepted us between corral and barn.

"Sam, Elliot," Tom said, grinning, "you guys come along, too."

Is this a Western or what?

The boys looked puzzled, Tom laughed and said, "That talking to yourself's gotten worse, hasn't it?"

Best I could do was a stern scowl. "You spend years with just a horse."

"Wish I could."

And he meant that. Other, younger, boys and girls lounging on the porch came toward us, but Tom shook his head and waved them off. "Nuh-uh, you stay up here and man the corral gate for us when we come back."

One boy hung his head, others frowning, and said, "Ok, Dad."

Sam and Elliot roughed each other up playfully and I said, "Goddamn herd you got there, Tom. I don't know how you do it."

"My job," he replied.

"Your job," I said, shoving open one of the barn doors, pointing out the post ladders to all four boys, letting them go on ahead.

"For God," Tom said. "You know, in the Old Testament." I nodded and he said, "Every time God destroyed a people, he left a remnant to start over. That would be us. And you."

I smiled at that.

Tom said, "I like to think it's proof positive that he's still got faith in us."

"Must have," I said.

"Maybe we'll get it right this time."

"Maybe we won't."

37 pages, Kindle Edition

Published October 13, 2013

About the author

M.L. Bushman has three books published by Jigsaw Press--Miracle the novel; and The Implausible Hero. She also writes under the pseudonym Kris Karrel and has two books published as such: Threads, a Blaine Horney Mystery, and Just Blaine Horney. She is currently working on a futuristic Western series of books.

A single mom, Ms. Bushman wears a lot of hats these days. Novelist, writer, editor-Jigsaw Press, typesetter, book cover designer, interior layout and design, to name a few.

In addition to all of the above, the author likes to play ranch-hand for her better than good neighbors when called upon. "In my neck of the woods," she says, "we're all cow and horse junkies. Sort of goes with the territory."

Ms. Bushman states emphatically that she could do none of the above without the support of God and her twelve-year-old daughter, a girl good as gold and smart as the day is long, and then some.

The author and her daughter share their home outside of Sun River, Montana, with one indoor cat--Lady--numerous outdoor cats with names like Garfield, Whiskers, Garfield Imposter, Pinky and Rabbit, plus one American Saddlebred horse, Chewy.