"Dalmas,.John.-.Lion.Of.Farside.2.-.Bavarian.Gate.v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dalmas John)

before he'd gone more than a few chains, he left the road along the old line
fence, screened by the growth of serviceberry and young sassafras in the fence
row, until the barn cut him off from view of the house. Then he hiked through
the potato field to the barn, skirting the manure pile. Trapjaw, Charley's old
redbone hound, peered from the barn door, then sauntered out, tail waving, to
greet Curtis. From inside, Curtis could hear the sound of milk on pail bottom as
his dad began on another cow.
He looked in. Charley was hunkered on the one-legged milking stool, head against
a fawn-colored flank, squeezing and pulling, the sound changing from metallic
singing to the rushing "shoosh-shoosh-shoosh" as milk jetted into milk, broken
just a beat as Charley squirted a stream into an expectant cat's face. With
quick tidy movements the animal wiped it off, licking the paw between wipes,
then waited primly, hopefully, for her next serving.
"Howdy," Curtis said.
Charley answered without pausing, merely glancing back over his shoulder.
"You're back, eh? Your ma put your supper on the back of the stove. You've got
company." Ordinarily Curtis saw auras simply as an inconspicuous, layered cloud
of colors. Now, however, he focused on Charley's. It reflected distrust, a sense
of betrayal. When Curtis failed to respond, Charley added, "It's Varia. The wife
you said drowned."
The words struck Curtis like a fist in the gut, but he recovered quickly. "How
sure are you it's her? She's got a twin." He'd almost said clone, then caught
himself. "Named Liiset."
The barrier softened as Charley considered, and Curtis spoke again. "Did she say
anything, or ask anything, that didn't sound like Varia? Maybe something Varia
would have known but this one didn't?"
Charley grunted. "Now that you mention it ... A twin, you say."
"And Varia wouldn't have brought men with her."
"You saw them then?" Charley asked.
He hadn't needed to. He'd turned Sarkia down on the other side, but obviously
she wasn't taking no for an answer. With his reputation, she'd have sent men,
very likely tigers, as the clone's enforcers. And if it came to a fight, and he
succeeded in killing them, how would he explain to a judge, or even to his
parents?
"No," he answered, "I just came from supper with Bob and Hattie. So he wouldn't
feel he had to pay me any two dollars. But I saw the Packard in the front yard
when we drove by. And there's stuff I didn't tell you. About Varia's family.
Stuff just about impossible to explain; stuff you wouldn't believe. Too foreign.
I-kind of rounded off the truth."
The strong farmer hands continued squeezing and pulling. As the milk had
deepened, the sound had changed to "choofchoof-choof." Charley said nothing, but
he was thinking, putting together snippets of observation accrued over more than
twenty-five years. The cat, ignored now, stalked off to wait with others by
their milk dish.
"Did the men have an accent?" Curtis asked.
"Neither one of them said anything in English. Varia, or whoever she is, did the
talking. I thin you're right though; she's not Varia. Not by what she said, but
what she didn't say. She didn't ask about Julie, or Max, or Frank ... none of
them. And didn't tell us anything about you, except they had a good job for you.
She excused the fellas with her, said they'd just come from the old country and