Read Online After the Frost by Megan Chance - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Megan Chance
Ads: Link
The buttermilk custard wiggled gently as she sliced into it with her coffee spoon and took a bite. The taste of it melded with the lingering coffee on her tongue, sweet and milky. "Ummm—good pie."
Lillian slapped another plate into the tub. "Jimmy Dumont came by this morning on his way out to Alspaughs'. He said his mama asked how you were doing.”
Belle took another bite of pie. "You can tell her I'm doin' just fine."
"That is not what I meant."
The anger in her mother's voice made Belle smile. Deliberately she exaggerated the country accent she knew Lillian despised. "Well, now, Mama, s'pose you tell me just what you do mean. I can't read your mind, y'know."
Lillian spun around so quickly, warm water flew from her hands, spattering on the hot stove and sprinkling Belle's face. "Don't you play these games with me, Isabelle. I cannot believe the things you said to Ernestine and Stella yesterday. You deliberately—"
"Deliberately what, Mama?" Belle worked to keep her tone even. "Deliberately told lies? Seems I'm not alone anyway."
"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Lillian frowned.
"Don't tell me you forgot." Belle laughed shortly. "Maybe I'll just bring my pretty little niece on in here, and she can remind you."
Lillian's face tightened. "We had to tell them something."
"And the truth wasn't good enough?"
"The truth was unthinkable." Lillian's voice was condemning, so soft, it squeezed Belle's heart. "I will not tell the world that my daughter—" Lillian choked on the word as if she couldn't bear to say the rest. She stopped, and her delicate nostrils flared as she seemed to marshal her strength. She looked away. "You knew how I felt then, Isabelle. That has not changed."
Belle squeezed the spoon in her hand so tightly, it imprinted her skin. "You knew how I felt then, Isabelle." Yes, oh yes, she knew how her mother felt. Had always known and had tried to forget it, even though it still haunted her sometimes in the quiet of darkness. In her nightmares she remembered the night she'd told her mother about herself and Rand; she still saw the wild way Lillian's hair had come loose from her chignon and the paleness of her skin, the red dots of color on her cheeks. Still heard the sharp, spitting words: "You're a disgrace to this family ..."
Belle swallowed, forcing her fingers to relax on the spoon. "I haven't changed either, Mama," she said quickly, because she was afraid she wouldn't be able to say the words. "I wanted Sarah then and I still do. I had plans for her. You and Rand were wrong to take her from the Masons'. You were wrong to lie."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Isabelle. Things have changed in the time you were away. It's best if you would remember that."
"Best for who, Mama? What were you plannin' on tellin' everyone when I came back?"
"When you came back?" Lillian raised a brow. "Had you planned to come back, Belle?"
The words fell between them like stones. Belle wished she could deny it, wished she could say yes, she'd always intended to come back, to bring Sarah back, but she couldn't. The truth was she'd never meant to set foot in this town again, wouldn't have now if not for Sarah.
Though it wouldn't have mattered even if she had wanted to return. She'd always known she wouldn't be welcome—and she'd been right. She wasn't.
She raised her chin defiantly. "You told me to stay away," she said. "I thought that's what you wanted. Or was I wrong, Mama? Tell me, did I get it all wrong?"
Her mother stared at her silently, and Belle saw the thinning of Lillian's lips, the way the blood drained from her face. No, Belle thought, she hadn't been wrong.
She pushed back her chair and got to her feet, working to keep the emotion from her voice. "I didn't think so. Now, if you don't mind, I'm goin' to find my daughter."
Her mother didn't make a sound as Belle went out the back door into the morning sunshine. She felt oddly drained as she leaned back against the wall of the house. The
Lillian slapped another plate into the tub. "Jimmy Dumont came by this morning on his way out to Alspaughs'. He said his mama asked how you were doing.”
Belle took another bite of pie. "You can tell her I'm doin' just fine."
"That is not what I meant."
The anger in her mother's voice made Belle smile. Deliberately she exaggerated the country accent she knew Lillian despised. "Well, now, Mama, s'pose you tell me just what you do mean. I can't read your mind, y'know."
Lillian spun around so quickly, warm water flew from her hands, spattering on the hot stove and sprinkling Belle's face. "Don't you play these games with me, Isabelle. I cannot believe the things you said to Ernestine and Stella yesterday. You deliberately—"
"Deliberately what, Mama?" Belle worked to keep her tone even. "Deliberately told lies? Seems I'm not alone anyway."
"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Lillian frowned.
"Don't tell me you forgot." Belle laughed shortly. "Maybe I'll just bring my pretty little niece on in here, and she can remind you."
Lillian's face tightened. "We had to tell them something."
"And the truth wasn't good enough?"
"The truth was unthinkable." Lillian's voice was condemning, so soft, it squeezed Belle's heart. "I will not tell the world that my daughter—" Lillian choked on the word as if she couldn't bear to say the rest. She stopped, and her delicate nostrils flared as she seemed to marshal her strength. She looked away. "You knew how I felt then, Isabelle. That has not changed."
Belle squeezed the spoon in her hand so tightly, it imprinted her skin. "You knew how I felt then, Isabelle." Yes, oh yes, she knew how her mother felt. Had always known and had tried to forget it, even though it still haunted her sometimes in the quiet of darkness. In her nightmares she remembered the night she'd told her mother about herself and Rand; she still saw the wild way Lillian's hair had come loose from her chignon and the paleness of her skin, the red dots of color on her cheeks. Still heard the sharp, spitting words: "You're a disgrace to this family ..."
Belle swallowed, forcing her fingers to relax on the spoon. "I haven't changed either, Mama," she said quickly, because she was afraid she wouldn't be able to say the words. "I wanted Sarah then and I still do. I had plans for her. You and Rand were wrong to take her from the Masons'. You were wrong to lie."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Isabelle. Things have changed in the time you were away. It's best if you would remember that."
"Best for who, Mama? What were you plannin' on tellin' everyone when I came back?"
"When you came back?" Lillian raised a brow. "Had you planned to come back, Belle?"
The words fell between them like stones. Belle wished she could deny it, wished she could say yes, she'd always intended to come back, to bring Sarah back, but she couldn't. The truth was she'd never meant to set foot in this town again, wouldn't have now if not for Sarah.
Though it wouldn't have mattered even if she had wanted to return. She'd always known she wouldn't be welcome—and she'd been right. She wasn't.
She raised her chin defiantly. "You told me to stay away," she said. "I thought that's what you wanted. Or was I wrong, Mama? Tell me, did I get it all wrong?"
Her mother stared at her silently, and Belle saw the thinning of Lillian's lips, the way the blood drained from her face. No, Belle thought, she hadn't been wrong.
She pushed back her chair and got to her feet, working to keep the emotion from her voice. "I didn't think so. Now, if you don't mind, I'm goin' to find my daughter."
Her mother didn't make a sound as Belle went out the back door into the morning sunshine. She felt oddly drained as she leaned back against the wall of the house. The
Similar Books
