Free Rockinghorse by William W. Johnstone

water, sighing as it relaxed and soothed her entire body.
    * * *
    After her bath, Jackie slept deeply, but not necessarily peacefully. Her dreams, as her brother’s dreams, were filled with a strange-appearing horse. The horse did not look real to brother and sister, but they both knew—sensed, somehow—the horse represented danger. The misty animal seemed to grin at them in their sleep. It was not a very pleasant grin.
    Finally, they dropped deep into sleep and the horse left them, rocking and whinnying as it vanished. But it did not go far.
    * * *
    Lucas had a headache when he awakened, but other than that, he felt fine. He did not find it odd that the events of the previous day had, somehow, been dimmed in his mind. His upper arm ached from the tattoo needle, but he knew from speaking with men who had tattoos that the soreness would soon pass.
    He was the first one up that morning. The mansion was silent in its stone and marble and brick and wood and glass. Like a mausoleum, the thought came to him.
    Lucas showered and shaved and dressed quietly. He took two aspirin and walked to the kitchen. He fixed coffee and toast, then stepped outside to face the just-breaking sun.
    He was going to have to lay down some ground rules to the kids. They could not, under any circumstances—unless accompanied by either Lucas or Tracy—enter the woods. Jackie was no longer a child, and she was going to have to face that more-than-obvious fact. She was an almost-thirteen-year-old young woman, and those . . . nuts out there in the woods might do more than frighten her.
    Johnny was the adventurous one. Jackie would mind her father; Johnny would be the one to say, ‘Yes, sir, Dad,’ and then go straight to the woods. And if asked about it, would admit he did it. He would not lie about it. Despite his bookish appearance, the kid had more than his share of guts. Johnny would try anything—once. Lucas’s boss, Joe Gould, delighted in asking the kid what he was going to be when he grew up. Johnny would look the man square in the eyes and say, “A Green Beret.”
    Tracy was appalled each time he said it. But Lucas always filled with pride at the boy’s answer.
    Of course, Lucas thought, sitting down in a chair on the veranda, Johnny would probably change his mind two dozen times before he got out of school; but for now he was awfully proud of his kids. He was quick to think though, that he would be proud of his kids no matter what they grew up to be—even rock-and-roll musicians.
    He laughed softly at that.
    No, Jackie and Johnny would have to stay out of the woods. For that matter . . .
    He smiled as a thought came to him. Finishing his coffee, he went back inside and woke Tracy.
    â€œWhassisshit? she mumbled, without opening her eyes.
    â€œI’m going into town. Be back in a couple of hours. You and the kids stay out of the woods until I get back, OK?”
    â€œRat. Bye.” She rolled over and went back to sleep before Lucas had walked out the bedroom door.
    He looked in on both the kids. They were sleeping soundly.
    He drove into town.
    Jim looked at him dubiously. “Lucas, you ever handled a chain saw, ol’ buddy?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI admire your spunk, buddy, but they can be dangerous.”
    â€œI don’t want a big one. But I don’t want a little one, either. I’m thinking a midsized chain saw will do just fine.”
    â€œThey’re just as dangerous.”
    â€œWell, you could show me how to use one, couldn’t you?”
    â€œShore.”
    â€œWell?”
    Jim nodded. “OK. You’re gonna need a couple of good machetes, couple of pairs of good leather gloves; your hands is city-soft. Lige should have what else you’ll need out there. All right, Lucas. I got a good midsize chain saw here I’ll let you use for nothing.”
    â€œI didn’t come here asking for charity, Jim.”
    â€œDon’t sweat it,