It was now noon, and the overhead sun was hot. Flies were biting (which Béla didn’t mind, but Jake hated), and Jake had his foot caught in an old a...andoned bear trap.“I told you it was a bad idea to follow a game trail,” Béla was saying.Jake grimaced in pain, only groaning in reply.Béla didn’t know how, nor was she strong enough, to release the trap. But she was glad it was Jake that had sprung the trap and not her. He was the one wearing boots.She went looking for a suitable branch to wedge. " He'll never let you," Alex said, getting painfully to his feet, his left hand holding his wounded side, his right, a big Ruger Super Blackhawk, .44 Magnum revolver. "That horse don't stand for nobody ridin' him but me. Now if I was you, I'd drop that rifle and put them hands up high, where I can see 'em. No, don't turn around. You're just fine where you stand."Taking a pair of Phoenician handcuffs from the pocket of his jeans, Alex walked up behind the shooter and slapped one cuff around the. The cow kicked over the milk pail. By the time he set breakfast on the table, the porridge was burned. As he slopped the pigs, he tripped and fell face-first into the mud in the pig wallow. Then he spilled the bag of feed for the fowls. He scooped some grain into a bag so the miller could grind some flour, but the bag was old and had a leak, so he had to repeat the trip with a new bag. As he washed the laundry in the stream, he tipped the basked and got thoroughly soaked chasing the. We walked passed the red wine , the white wine, and were standing in front of a floor to ceiling stack of whisky. Bourbons, single malt, blends, most were very old dust had settled on some bottles. She grabbed a very old bottle of single malt whiskey, opened the bottle and took a swig. Looked at me, I nodded, and I took a swig. She talked about her relationship, how they met, marriage, quitting her career, c***dren, playing the supportive partner, empty nest, nothing to do, finding out her.