Wanted

Chapter 30

"Jeremiah, I..." John muttered, and then paused. He wasn't sure what to expect. Jeremiah had threatened to beat him if he caught him stealing again, but he hadn't mentioned the dog yet. He had only reminded him that he had forbidden him to leave the ranch on his own, but that was not the 'one exception'.

That he was in danger however was obvious. Jeremiah was behaving strangely. Maybe having decided that there could be the one exception opened the door for a whole lot of more such exceptions. Jeremiah had pointed out that he was disobedient and ignored what they had instructed him to do, maybe Jeremiah was more of a schoolmaster than John had thought.

"The dog," John said, and looked at the dog that danced excitedly in front of him since he had stood up again, possibly thinking they could go out to play, "he followed me, I didn't..." John stuttered.

"What are you talking about?" Jeremiah asked confused, sounding somewhat impatient.

"I didn't mean to steal your dog, Mr Jeremiah. He followed me. I tried to send him back, but he didn't listen...," John explained, at the same time as he took another step backwards which brought him all the way to the front door. The dog continued to bounce and nudge the boy with his wet nose as if he was expecting to be brought out for a game of catch and John took too long to get ready.

"Sit," Jeremiah snipped his fingers as he pointed to the floor beside him, commanding the dog to obey. The dog came to him immediately with a whine, looking ruefully at his leader and then the boy.

"I know that John," Jeremiah told the boy softly. It had taken him too long before he realised what John was worried about.

Jeremiah put his hand inside his breast pocket from where he pulled out the two envelopes. He glanced at them quickly and put one of them back inside.

"This came last week, John," he said holding the letter in front of him for the boy to see. "Sit," he commanded softly pointing to a chair at the table, but this time it was directed at the boy.

"Oh," the boy went, his fear being immediately replaced with another, much greater one.

"Yeah," Jeremiah nodded.

Neither of them moved at first, Jeremiah carefully watching the boy, and the boy staring at the letter in Jeremiah's hand, terrified to say or do anything. He had wanted for this moment to happen but also threatened it.

"Oh," he said again, and then after a few moments added in a whisper that almost sounded like a question, "it came last week?"

"Yes," Jeremiah simply said, and motioned for the boy to sit himself down.

"Oh," John said again, and then added meekly, "that bad?", as he made his way to the seat that Jeremiah had pointed at. John knew instantly that had it been in any way good news, Jeremiah would have told him right away and would not look that grave.

Jeremiah nodded his response, and then sat down at the opposite side of the table. With his back towards the door, and wringing his hands in discomfort, he started to tell John, what he thought he needed to know. 

The dog sat himself down beside his owner, offering his head to be stroked every time Jeremiah paused, as if he knew that this would take away the tension and help Jeremiah to get on with his task.

His head slightly turned to the side to watch the flames dance in the fireplace instead of looking at the person talking to him, John sat still and just listened. He didn't show any emotions. It was not what Jeremiah had expected. He'd expected him to cry, or at least having to fight back the tears.

"How does he know it's her. It could be a different Kitty Flannigan?" John asked in a sceptical tone when Jeremiah finally stopped talking. "How can he be certain?" he challenged.