Chapter 12A cabin all to myself wasn’t that great when it was blowing and snowing outside. Necessary chores around the farm at the height of winter required more effort than they were worth, and tromping back and forth between the stone house and my place was just added effort. There were days when I remained in the cabin and cooked my own meals or subsisted on jerky while imagining the rest of the family gathered in the big room playing checkers and chess and poker.
However, I wasn’t often alone. The Reverend Jeremiah Berglund kept regular company. Once, I sat down on the side of my bed and had a conversation with the dead bastard. I told him in a very logical fashion he’d taken the lives of two good men, so it was only proper he paid with his own.
He didn’t see it that way, of course.
