Read Online Roses for Mama by Janette Oke - Free Book Online

sad. No wonder the poor man looks so gloomy all the time.”
    “But that’s not all,” Thane continued. “Rumor has it that the son is heading out this way. Seems that Charlie felt honor-bound to let him know of Mr. Stratton’s condition, and the fellow has decided to come see for himself.”
    Angela smiled. Perhaps there would be a happy ending after all. She was glad for Mr. Stratton. She did hope that he was well enough to know and enjoy his grown-up son.
    “Gus didn’t sound too excited about it,” Thane continued. “I think he fears that the fellow is just interested in getting his hands on the Stratton money.”
    Angela was suddenly angry. Why should Gus go and spoil her dream? Why couldn’t it be concern—if not love—that was bringing the junior Stratton to his father’s bedside?
    “Well,” she said defiantly, “perhaps Gus should wait and see before he brands the man as a black-heart. He could at least give him a chance.”
    “You’re right,” Thane responded, more serious now. “Maybe we all should.”
    “When is he to arrive?” asked Angela.
    “I don’t know. Soon, I gather from what Gus said. He was spreading the word around town, though he was none too happy about the situation.”
    “That’s awful,” Angela said, still annoyed. “The poor man hasn’t even done anything, and already folks are against him. Fine welcome for someone coming to see his sick pa.”
    Angela resolved that she would not be one to brand a man before she knew his intent. She promised herself she would take over some more baking the minute she learned of his arrival.
    They spent the remainder of their evening talking of other things. After the moon had climbed high into the sky, Thane announced he’d better get on home.
    Before leaving he reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a small brown bag that he handed without comment to Angela. Like a small child, she could not resist a peek. Pink peppermints. Her favorite. She gave Thane a warm smile in thank you. He acknowledged it with a smile of his own, touched his cap, and was gone.
    ———
    Mrs. Blackwell called. Even though she maintained that the young Petersons should be left strictly on their own, she still made it her neighborly duty to drop by now and then to see that they were doing things right. Angela had seen her coming and longed to slip out the back door and escape to the fields where Thomas and Derek were stacking the summer hay.
    Instead, she laid aside her soiled apron and pushed the kettle forward on the stove to make a cup of tea.
    Mrs. Blackwell was puffing her way up the veranda steps when Angela opened the door and smiled a welcome.
    “My, that sun is hot today” was the only greeting the woman offered. She whisked off her heavy black bonnet and wiped her perspiring face.
    Angela stepped aside to let her enter the kitchen. She headed directly for a chair beside the table, her eyes traveling hither and yon to survey the room.
    “It’s cool in here,” she observed. “Guess you haven’t been doin’ any bakin’ for a while.”
    “No,” acknowledged Angela slowly, “when the weather is like this I try to do enough in one day to last us the week.”
    Mrs. Blackwell nodded her head but made no immediate comment. She wiped her face again and sat down heavily on the chair.
    “How do you keep it fresh?” she asked forthrightly.
    “We have an extra icebox in the shed out back. I wrap it and put it in there.”
    The woman frowned. Angela knew Mrs. Blackwell had no spare icebox and was probably thinking it wasn’t fair that someone so young should have things she didn’t.
    “S’pose you heard about poor Mr. Stratton?” Mrs. Blackwell asked.
    Angela nodded and willed the kettle to boil quickly.
    “Such a shame. But then—jest another reminder thet the Lord don’t take kindly to sin. One reaps what one sows—jest as the Book says.”
    Angela was glad she could turn to lift the teapot down from the shelf and not have to