Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy 3)

“She’s not over here,” Holt yelled back before lowering his voice to a whisper that only she could hear. “Get home.”

She ran, giving her brother a thankful glance before disappearing from his sight.

It was going to be hard to sneak away tomorrow, especially now that Holt knew she was meeting Dustin. But it was a chance she would take. He was the only friend she had, being stuck on this mountain. She, Asher, and Holt weren’t allowed to go to school. Pa homeschooled them himself, not even trusting their ma to do it the way he wanted it done.

Her ma was standing on the front porch when she got home, staring at her angrily.

“Girl, you know you’re going to get a whipping when your pa gets home.”

“I’m sorry. My bedroom was too hot, so I went to the hayloft and fell asleep.”

“Sure you did.”

Jessie saw her mother’s gaze lift to behind her. “She fell asleep—”

Jessie felt the rush of air that had the hair on her arms standing at attention. She reflexively moved to stand behind her mother, wrapping her arms around her waist for protection. When her pa tried to jerk her away, Jessie held on tighter.

“Stop it! It’s not her fault that Asher didn’t see her when he looked for her. Next time, look for yourself instead of getting one of the boys to climb that ladder.”

Her father narrowed his eyes on her. “Next time, I will.”

“Dinner’s done. You boys go inside and wash your hands.”

When Asher passed their father, a hand came out, smacking him on the head.

“Next time, check it better.”

Jessie swallowed hard when Asher met her frightened stare.

“I will, Pa.”

Her brother went inside without another word, making her feel guilty. She consoled herself that she would make it up to him by doing the mounds of homework their father insisted they do every night.

“Holt, before you go wash, go pull me a handful of green onions to go with the beans.”

“I will,” Jessie offered. “I’ll be fast.”

She was off the porch and moving toward the garden before her ma could protest.

From then on, she would be the only one doing the gardening. If anyone was going to find another bead, it was going to be her. Maybe if she found more, Dustin would marry her sooner, because she had no intention of waiting for Dustin to get as old as Clyde. That dumb boy was going to realize how much he loved her, even if she had to find enough beads to make a necklace. For now, she could wait … until she was older, prettier, and her pa didn’t hate the Porters so much.

“God, you better get busy. I need a lot of help,” Jessie prayed as she plucked the green onions from the soil, thinking about how her pa had called her ugly as molasses and how much he loathed the Porters. “I don’t need a miracle. I need two.”

“What’re you waiting for? Shoot before the little bastard gets away!”

Dustin’s finger trembled on the trigger as the little fox scampered back into the dense woods beside the hen house. His father yelling at him didn’t make it any easier to pull the trigger, knowing if he missed, his father would be just as angry.

He flinched when his father jumped off the porch to fire his own shotgun at the cub that had disappeared under thick brambles, making it impossible for him to get a clear shot.

“Dammit!” His father angrily turned back to glare at him as the barking dog that had alerted them to what was going on took off after it.

Shaking, Dustin recognized the fury on his father’s weathered face meant an impending whipping.

“Why in the hell did you beg me for that shotgun if you’re too sissy to shoot it?” Yelling at him, his father strode across the yard.

Dustin braced himself for the beating his father was about to give him.

When he reached out his hand to jerk him off the porch, it was blocked by Tate, while Greer shoved Dustin behind them.

“He was just scared with you yelling at him, Pa.” Tate’s voice didn’t calm their father. Neither did Greer’s, telling him to go inside the house and they would clean the mess that the litter of foxes had made in the hen house.

Their father narrowed his eyes on them as he gave a harsh bark of laughter. “You’re not helping that boy by protecting him. He has to learn what’s his, not get you two to do it for him. What’s he going to do when I’m not around to put food on the table? How’s he going to protect his ass when you two aren’t there to do it for him? Jesus, you think I’m mad at a few fucking chickens?” Shaking his head at them, he sneered as he walked around the front of the house to come up the steps to the porch where they were standing.