Page 53 of Firewalker


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Alanna lost it. She sprung forward, her feet leaving the ground, her eyes on his throat.

Matthew caught her mid-leap with an arm around her waist.

“Matthew, why don’t you take Alanna to the store?” Silas placed himself between her and Greer. “Stock us up on what we need. Ginny’s wanting two bushels of apples.”

“She ain’t supposed to be out of my sight,” Greer snapped, starting after them as Matthew tried to usher her away.

“Then you can go with them. I’ll pick the hog out for you,” Silas said benignly.

Greer stopped in his tracks. “You going to buy me some pork?”

“Depends.” Silas arched a brow at him.

“You kids go on.” Greer turned back to Silas, pulling his jeans up higher. “We have some business to take care of.”

Alanna barely made it out of earshot. “I can’t stand that man. He’s going to kill that sweet cow.”

“If Greer hadn’t picked the cow, someone else would have. Probably Silas. Greer wouldn’t kill it himself … Well, he would if …”

“I don’t mean Greer. I mean Jimbo,” she hissed out his name.

“Yeah … he’s the one who kills them. But to be fair, that’s what he does for a living … and you didn’t have a problem eating that ribeye on your plate the other night.”

“I’m never going to eat another meat product,” she vowed then remembered how good the steak tasted. “At least, not after I meet them. How can you raise an animal to slaughter? Wouldn’t you get attached?”

Matthew started to look uncomfortable.

Alanna narrowed her eyes on him. “You have, haven’t you?” she asked him accusingly.

His cheeks were becoming flushed. “We don’t get attached to farm animals,” he tried to explain. “We don’t pet them or give them names.”

Alanna jerked her hand free. “What have you killed?”

“Not much. A couple of chickens …”

“What else?”

“Nothing … But Isaac or Silas do kill goats for—”

Alanna raised her hand to prevent him from saying any more. “They kill goats?”

“Theydid … I didn’t,” he assured her.

Alanna thought of those sweet goats chomping on twigs. She had enjoyed working with them until she turned into the Bride of Frankenstein.

“Will you tell them not to do it while I’m there?”

Matthew eagerly nodded. “Of course.”

Alanna relaxed her rigid posture. It wasn’t like his brothers were slayers of cute animals—chickens weren’t cute. Still, she didn’t want them killed.

“At least there’s one good thing.”

“What is it?” she was forced to ask when he playfully bumped her shoulder with his.

“At least you never met any of the goats or chickens in the freezer.”

Chapter Twenty

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