Loaded Guns and Broken Fences [On Hold]

Chapter 49

"When are ya'll gonna go do somethin' bout the McGraths?" Emit said as he pulled a stack of plates out of the cupboard.

Daniel paused, side glancing at his cousin while he set out cups on the table.

"Why? Sick of our company already, cuz?" Jesse asked. He hadn't lifted a single finger to help with the chore of setting out cutlery or anything for supper.

"A little bit, yeah," Emit said, earning raised brows from Daniel, Peter, and Jesse. He didn't like the way Peter and Daniel's heads had snapped towards Jesse to gauge his reaction after he spoke... or the way Jesse was grinning at him. "It's just that uh--" Emit cleared his throat, and sat the stack of plates on the end of the table. "Well, there's just a lot of ya, and we don't got that much space here."

Gus snorted. "At least you're honest," he said, patting his plump cousin on the shoulder while he passed him to place a basket of hot biscuits on the table.

"Honest and stupid," Jesse sneered.

"I ain't stupid," Emit shot back.

"Then use your head, pork belly," Jesse said, pointing at his own noggin. "People've been murdered. This whole town's on edge."

"I don't give a rat's ass bout the whole town, I just want them McGraths and Thomas Birch to pay fer what they dun!"

"Emit, Emit, Emit..." Jesse crossed the floor, shaking his head as if he were amused by the ignorant rambling of a child. "When you really want a man dead, you don't hit him when his gun belt's on and his eyes are glued open from fear... get it?"

"No..." Emit said.

Jesse laughed. It was a harsh sound, and higher pitched than Emit expected. But to his relief, he heard the front door and boot-falls. It sounded like his uncle and the rest of his cousins were back from wherever it was they'd been all day.

"Boys," Andrew called, and Emit followed his cousins out of the kitchen and into the den. "Supper ready?"

"Yes'sir," Daniel replied.

Andrew nodded, then folded his hands in front of himself and bowed his head. It seemed he'd already removed his hat and left it at the door. All eight of his cousins removed their hats, if they had them, and lowered their gazes to the floorboards.

"Bless us, Lord Father, this food to our use, and us to thy loving service," Andrew began.

It wasn't the prayer Emit's father used to say before supper...nothing was the same as it used to be before his paw and maw were murdered. Emit's lip quivered, and as he rubbed his eyes with his wrist, he noticed Leroy and Willis at the top of the stairs.

"Guide us through the light of your grace, and with steady hand--"

The look of them made Emit think of angles... staring down upon them with weary, dispassionate faces. 

"--make us ever mindful of the needs of others... for Jesus' sake. Amen."

"Amen," the boys repeated, in practiced unison, before they began to file into the kitchen, lining up to the table like it was a chuck wagon.

They grabbed a plate, took a portion of what food was waiting, and then moved off to find a place to sit and eat since there weren't enough chairs at the table.