Read Online Allie's Moon by Alexis Harrington - Free Book Online Page A

the globe of the kerosene lantern
hanging on the wall. He knew how that moth felt. It had been many,
many months since he’d had to face silence and his own thoughts
without the pleasant blur of a head full of whiskey. He knew it was
nearly midnight, and after the hard work he’d put in on that roof,
he should be sleeping like the dead. He would need the rest if he
meant to put in a full day tomorrow.
    Except he couldn’t sleep at all. His nerves
seemed to be on fire just beneath his skin, and his heart was
pounding as if Farley Wright’s dog had him trapped in the henhouse
again. Once in a while, he’d begin to doze off, only to lurch awake
again with a sense of profound panic. He had nothing to be afraid
of, exactly, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.
    He tossed and turned, wishing to God he’d
been able to get that whiskey he longed for. Without it, Wes
Matthews lay dead before him again, his chest spouting blood like a
geyser. Or he’d see Sally’s face, cold and shuttered, or worse,
he’d hear her voice, sweet and soothing, as it had sounded before
she’d turned away from him.
    Sometimes even a picture of Althea Ford rose
in his mind, and he found that most amazing of all. He hadn’t given
much thought to having a woman in the last two years, so why he
should think of her, he couldn’t guess. Miss Fussy Drawers didn’t
approve of him or what he did with his time. But now he imagined
what her softness would feel like under his hands and lips. Would
her hair be lush and sweet-smelling when she freed it from its
pins? Would her body be as smooth and cream-white as her
complexion?
    He flopped over on his belly and punched the
feather pillow.
    The endless night stretched out before him
like a dark, twisting path, full of mystery and danger.
    Just one drink—if he had just one, it might
shut out those memories and faces. He never should have let Will
twist his arm into staying here. If he’d refused, Will would’ve had
to take him back to town and he would have been free a lot sooner
than the end of summer. He could have his whiskey, and he wouldn’t
need to deal with the demanding Miss Althea Ford.
    Maybe when Will came back out in a few days,
he could weasel out of this deal. Until then, though, he was
stuck.
    ~~*~*~*~~
    Dawn came sooner than Althea would have
liked, but there was no getting around the work she had to do
today. After she washed and dressed, she went down the hall to her
father’s old bedroom. The door was kept closed, and Althea had not
willingly set foot inside since his death. She gripped the cold
glass knob for a moment, then gave it a twist and pushed. The
bedroom looked exactly as it had for as long as she could remember.
She hadn’t moved or changed a thing.
    Running her hand over the already tidy
counterpane, Althea stared at the chair next to the bed. She’d
spent hours sitting in here toward the end of her father’s life.
Years of working the land had not made him sturdy and rugged, as it
did other men. At the age of fifty, his failing heart had turned
him into an invalid. It had been impossible for him to take more
than a step or two without becoming winded, and he’d coughed
continuously.
    Olivia had been no help. In a state of
nervous exhaustion she’d rarely ventured beyond her own bed. So
Althea had shouldered the responsibility of caring for both of
them.
    But Althea had been dutiful—Amos Ford had not
had to so much as ask for a drink of water. She’d anticipated and
seen to his every need and want.
    Hoping . . . hoping that
he would forgive her at last, and not carry his bitterness with him
to his grave.
    When he’d taken his last strangled breath, it
was long past midnight. With Olivia on her knees sobbing
hysterically beside the bed, Althea had stood over them, feeling
excluded and alone. Finally a welcome sense of detachment numbed
her pain and disappointment. As if she’d been watching the scene
from some other place, she wondered why people so often went