Read Online Asked For by Colleen L. Donnelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Colleen L. Donnelly
Tags: Women's Fiction
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still. Maybe they didn’t hear, but surely they did.
“I’m Magdalena Paine,” his sister responded. There was no waver, no shame, no excuse for what she was. James admired Magdalena, but he feared for her, too. Pop was never one to strike them, other than to whip them with his belt. He didn’t have to strike them—his temper was harsh enough. But James listened, still expecting to hear the sound of Pop’s large hand across his sister’s face.
“Say it, Pop,” Magdalena’s voice went on. “Say, ‘No Paine would ever be a whore or a hag.’ ”
The silence that followed felt heavy, so heavy James could hardly breathe. He fought to listen through it, praying Pop would drop it, let Magdalena go, and not call her the names James was finally beginning to understand.
A door slammed. Someone had gone out into the night. James threw back the covers to run downstairs and find Magdalena.
“Don’t.” Alex lifted his head from the pillow. “Stay where you are.”
“But…”
Then James heard it. Female voices, soft and quiet. He wanted to go to the door and listen, but Alex’s gaze held him. He stayed on his bed. The voices were low. Mama’s was there and it rose; he recognized it.
“If Pop hurts Mama,” James muttered.
“Just stay put,” Alex said.
Harold lifted his head. “Pop’s outside.”
“But that was Magdalena that left…” James listened harder. The voices contrasted, Mama’s soft one and Magdalena’s coarse one. His brothers were right. “I thought… Why’d Pop go out?”
“Got a lot to think about,” Alex said. Both brothers dropped their heads to their pillows. “I imagine he’ll get another jab at Magdalena, but she’ll do what she always does and get him back.”
“Get to sleep, little brother,” Harold said. “Someday Pop and Magdalena will figure out this battle’s already done and realize who the winner is.”
Chapter 6
Lana 1930
No one had ever told Lana how beautiful a baby could be, or how wonderful she’d feel as she looked at a child of her own. She’d been just a child herself when she’d come to be Cletus’ wife, and now she was a mother. Cletus had done his part making this baby, and now she had done hers. Almost. This new daughter, their first child… Lana saw her as a good beginning, proof of what she was capable of, a promise she would bear more for him, especially sons.
Ella Canfield stood at the side of Lana’s bed, stains from the birth discoloring her hands and apron. Ella tipped her head and brushed a wisp of gray hair aside with her shoulder as she gazed down at the new baby. “She’s beautiful. Just like you.”
Lana shook her head. I’m a wife, but I’ve made a beautiful baby. Jeanie’s notions about love and marriage had been wrong. Marriage wasn’t like those childish fairy tales. Cletus wanted uncomplicated, he wanted his meals on time and his silverware in a line. He had been good to her, considerate of her condition while she carried what was supposed to be his son, but he didn’t care about beautiful. And she knew he didn’t care about daughters. But this baby was perfect. “She is beautiful, just look at her.” The fact his first one wasn’t a son wouldn’t matter when Cletus saw his new baby girl. He would feel like Lana felt, he would say this daughter was wonderful and their next one would be a son.
The still air in the bedroom felt almost cool, she and the baby both still damp. Soft grunts came from the bundle, making the infant quiver in her arms. Lana stared at their new daughter, admiring the fair-haired, red-skinned baby in her arms. Ella tucked the small blanket under the baby’s chin, her hands like Grandma’s, worn, leathery, and kind. Wife hands. What Lana’s would become with time.
“Thank you,” Lana said. Thank you for helping me with the birth, and for all of the invisible lessons you’ve given me since I married Cletus.
Ella lived more than a mile down the road, and little in these months of
“I’m Magdalena Paine,” his sister responded. There was no waver, no shame, no excuse for what she was. James admired Magdalena, but he feared for her, too. Pop was never one to strike them, other than to whip them with his belt. He didn’t have to strike them—his temper was harsh enough. But James listened, still expecting to hear the sound of Pop’s large hand across his sister’s face.
“Say it, Pop,” Magdalena’s voice went on. “Say, ‘No Paine would ever be a whore or a hag.’ ”
The silence that followed felt heavy, so heavy James could hardly breathe. He fought to listen through it, praying Pop would drop it, let Magdalena go, and not call her the names James was finally beginning to understand.
A door slammed. Someone had gone out into the night. James threw back the covers to run downstairs and find Magdalena.
“Don’t.” Alex lifted his head from the pillow. “Stay where you are.”
“But…”
Then James heard it. Female voices, soft and quiet. He wanted to go to the door and listen, but Alex’s gaze held him. He stayed on his bed. The voices were low. Mama’s was there and it rose; he recognized it.
“If Pop hurts Mama,” James muttered.
“Just stay put,” Alex said.
Harold lifted his head. “Pop’s outside.”
“But that was Magdalena that left…” James listened harder. The voices contrasted, Mama’s soft one and Magdalena’s coarse one. His brothers were right. “I thought… Why’d Pop go out?”
“Got a lot to think about,” Alex said. Both brothers dropped their heads to their pillows. “I imagine he’ll get another jab at Magdalena, but she’ll do what she always does and get him back.”
“Get to sleep, little brother,” Harold said. “Someday Pop and Magdalena will figure out this battle’s already done and realize who the winner is.”
Chapter 6
Lana 1930
No one had ever told Lana how beautiful a baby could be, or how wonderful she’d feel as she looked at a child of her own. She’d been just a child herself when she’d come to be Cletus’ wife, and now she was a mother. Cletus had done his part making this baby, and now she had done hers. Almost. This new daughter, their first child… Lana saw her as a good beginning, proof of what she was capable of, a promise she would bear more for him, especially sons.
Ella Canfield stood at the side of Lana’s bed, stains from the birth discoloring her hands and apron. Ella tipped her head and brushed a wisp of gray hair aside with her shoulder as she gazed down at the new baby. “She’s beautiful. Just like you.”
Lana shook her head. I’m a wife, but I’ve made a beautiful baby. Jeanie’s notions about love and marriage had been wrong. Marriage wasn’t like those childish fairy tales. Cletus wanted uncomplicated, he wanted his meals on time and his silverware in a line. He had been good to her, considerate of her condition while she carried what was supposed to be his son, but he didn’t care about beautiful. And she knew he didn’t care about daughters. But this baby was perfect. “She is beautiful, just look at her.” The fact his first one wasn’t a son wouldn’t matter when Cletus saw his new baby girl. He would feel like Lana felt, he would say this daughter was wonderful and their next one would be a son.
The still air in the bedroom felt almost cool, she and the baby both still damp. Soft grunts came from the bundle, making the infant quiver in her arms. Lana stared at their new daughter, admiring the fair-haired, red-skinned baby in her arms. Ella tucked the small blanket under the baby’s chin, her hands like Grandma’s, worn, leathery, and kind. Wife hands. What Lana’s would become with time.
“Thank you,” Lana said. Thank you for helping me with the birth, and for all of the invisible lessons you’ve given me since I married Cletus.
Ella lived more than a mile down the road, and little in these months of
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