"Patricia Matthews - Goatman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Matthews Patricia)

heard
what she thought she had heard? "What?" she asked again.

"It's Goatman," said the old woman, snapping out the words. "He's back again.
Been seen around Clarence Hooker's place, and killed a hound up at Carter's.
You'd best keep your doors and windows locked, and keep that dog of yours
close
to the house."
Moira looked down the road in the direction in which Tray had gone running
after
the rabbit they had startled in the middle of the road.

"Do you have a gun?"

Wordlessly Moira shook her head, and felt the wind wrap her hair around her
throat and across her cheeks.

"It wouldn't hurt none to have one," said Miss Rhode, staring fixedly into
Moira's eyes. "Just wanted to tell you. Seeing as how you're a woman alone."

Why did she keep harping on that? "You're alone, too," Moira said somewhat
accusingly.

What might have been amusement flickered in the old woman's eyes. "That's a
different thing," she said, turning away. "I'm an old woman, and I'm no
city-folk. I can take care of myself."

Meaning I can't, I suppose, thought Moira, feeling a flash of annoyance.
"Well,
thanks for the warning," she called in what she intended to be a sarcastic
tone,
but the old woman was already walking toward the house, and in a moment, Moira
was left alone in the road. * * *

By suppertime, the wind had not lessened, and Moira, preparing her evening
meal
at the sink in front of the window, could see the tops of the trees at the
edge
of the clearing, moving against the fading blue of the sky. It was going to be
a
beautiful, wild night, and for the first time in months, she felt a kind of
excitement stirring inside her.

She could feel the warmth of the wood stove behind her, and she turned from
the
window to face the room. She loved the interior of the one-room cabin. It was
simple, and functional, much as it had been when her great-aunt, Ida, had
lived
here. Victor might scoff at it, as indeed he had, but it satisfied some need
in