Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) by Mari Collier Page A

through the fact that he did remember Mama. That adults labeled his words lies was natural, but he was unaccustomed to give and take with someone his own age. Now these two had called his bluff. He drifted into silence.
    The day's heat was retreating when Martin pulled off the road under a shaded spot guarded by tall cottonwood trees. The bank, pebbled with stones and grass, spilled down towards the river where willows clustered and covered the bank at the turn where water pooled. Cottonwoods sprouting up from the roots provided a natural fence. The blackened stones around the cooking area gave testimony to the fact that here was a spot favored by travelers.
    Young James scooted from the wagon, glad to be free of its confines and began a mad search for firewood. He caught the bundle MacDonald tossed to him.
    “There were plenty of cow chips from our passing.” MacDonald grinned at Lorenz. “Ye have yere choice: work and eat. If nay work, ye hunger.”
    Martin had already swung down and was busy unhitching the horses. Rolfe was working at the wagon gate, obviously going for the camp gear. “Ah'll work, ah reckon.” He climbed down, his legs stiff from bracing against the jolting ride.
    MacDonald dismounted and unhooked the cobbles. “Then take the nosebags from the side. When we get to where the beasties are to be bedded, use a portion from each and put that into yere hat for yere own horse, but dinna touch him. I'll attend.”
    Inside, Lorenz fumed, but did as he was told. At least they had given the squaw's work of wood gathering to Young James. MacDonald walked beside him as he led both Zark and Dandy over to where Martin was removing the harnesses and bridles. Martin took two of the hobbles from MacDonald and carefully clamped one pair on each horse while Lorenz apportioned part of the grain for Dandy. MacDonald slid his saddle off while Martin finished hobbling the last two horses and then loped down to the river, lay prone, and gulped the fresh water. He half-rose, rinsed his hands and came back grinning. “By God, I was dry I'll have supper on before long, Uncle Mac.”
    Lorenz watched him stride off. “He do the cooking?” he asked. Dandy was making a mess of what was left of his hat. He wondered if maybe he could convince the Big Bastard to replace it before he left for good. Probably not.
    “Aye,” came the reply to his question.
    Rolfe joined them, unsaddled, and attached the last nose bag “I think ve should get wasser here, Mac.”
    “Aye, twill nay be as clear nearer to House.” To Lorenz, he added, “We twill be the last two days with but a trickle of water.” He and Rolfe headed back to the wagon carrying their saddles and guns.
    Should he run now? Naw, either one could drop him. He watched MacDonald take both saddles and walk to the back of the wagon where he deposited them. Rolfe took down the barrel on the passenger side and slung it over his shoulder and hiked back to the river. MacDonald appeared on the side with a second barrel. By now Dandy had finished his grain, and Lorenz wiped out his hat and set it back on his head. The sun was slowly meandering toward the back of the low foothills while the leaves rustled in tune with the singing river.
    “Ye can give a hand, laddie, with the filling of the barrels,” said MacDonald.
    When both barrels were filled, Lorenz helped Rolfe carry the one and MacDonald took the other. Big Bastard, thought Lorenz. Damn, the man was strong.
    Rolfe finished lashing their barrel and bit off a chew. He grinned at Lorenz. “Gut day for a swim.” He swaggered off while Lorenz tried to puzzle if Rolfe had meant good when saying goot.
    Once more MacDonald emerged from the back of the wagon. This time he carried one of the bundles from the store and a towel wrapped around it. He too was grinning.
    Lorenz considered running, but the man was beside him with the huge hand clamping down on his shoulder, brooking no opposition. They marched back to the river. He could