Free Zooey Pinkerton- a Daughter's Right by Heather McAlendin Page A

too,” he
whispered. “I hope.”
    Fat, cold drops of rain began
falling from the sky as Andrew reached the main house. He turned
back to see Zooey running toward him, hollering with joy. He smiled
broadly as he held the door open for her.
    “Crazy nut! You are soaked
through. Go change for dinner.”
    “Yes Pops! Yes sir!” Zooey
answered with a smirk. She always loved to joke and tease her
father. “Don't start without me.”
    “Can't guarantee that. A hungry
man has to eat!” Andrew shouted as his daughter scurried down the
hall to her room. She waved a hand and disappeared into the bedroom
with a giggle.
    Andrew walked into the kitchen
and let the tiny, dark haired cook Marta, know that he'd be in the
dining room waiting for Zooey.
    “Yes sir, Mr. Pinkerton. I made
her favourite today; rabbit stew with turnips and potatoes.”
    “Oh, she'll love that Marta. No
doubt I'll enjoy it too. It smells fantastic in here!”
    The older woman blushed and
smiled. Marta had started out helping Andrew's wife while she was
pregnant. She had become invaluable to the care and raising of
Zooey after Sarah Pinkerton's passing. Marta had no children of her
own and stayed on with the Pinkerton's long after she should have
retired. At well over sixty, she loved the energy at the ranch. She
also loved taking care of the people she considered to be her
family.
    A loud crack of thunder jolted
Marta from her happy thoughts. She crossed herself, hoping the
storm would only bring the rain. The last time a thunderstorm
passed through, a lightening bolt had set fire to one of the feed
buildings. It had taken months to rebuild. Marta wanted for the
best for her family. She was a Christian woman and prayed nightly
for the happiness of Andrew and Zooey.
    “Hurry Zooey or your father will
have eaten all of the food I made!” Marta called out, teasing the
young woman. She smiled to herself and hummed a tune. Everything
was as it should be.

Two
     
     
    Zooey was towelling off her hair
when she heard Marta call out to her. “Be right there!” She called
back. Quickly peeling off her wet jeans and shirt she stared into
the tarnished, oval mirror her father had hung just above the
dresser. The mirror had belonged to her mother. It helped Zooey
feel connected to her. Now, that mirror and a copy of her parents
wedding photo were the only things left that kept Sarah Pinkerton's
memory alive. She studied the picture. Zooey could tell from the
smiles on their faces that they were madly in love on their wedding
day. There was a spray of freckles across her mother nose and the
same unruly, red curls that Zooey had. It made her smile.
    “Wish you could see me now Ma.
Wish you could be here to help Pops. I worry about him.” A tear
trickled down her cheek as Zooey's hand lovingly touched the
wedding photo that stood framed on her dresser. She was well aware
of her father's peccadilloes and wanted to talk to him about his
gambling and drinking. At eighteen she felt she was old enough for
them to have an adult conversation. At her age, she was just
thankful he wasn't trying to marry her off to the first wealthy
rancher or bachelor friend he had.
    After wiping away the tears,
Zooey pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, a white undershirt, and a
red flannel shirt. “So much for me looking like a girl huh, Ma?”
Zooey wiped the mud from her boots and pulled them back over her
slender feet and calves.
    A loud crack of thunder startled
her - and a loud, blood-curdling scream shot a surge of ice through
her belly. Zooey stood very still and listened for any further
sound. Loud, male voices echoed through the hallway and into her
room. She grabbed the Colt revolver from under her pillow and
tucked in into the waistband of her jeans.
    Zooey edged her way to the
bedroom door and opened it slowly.
    “You've had more than enough
time, Pinkerton. You knew about the consequences! My boss has lost
all patience with you!”
    “Come on now. I've been good for
it in the