Read Online Bluebonnet Belle by Lori Copeland - Free Book Online

fresh flowers and white china. Taking his place at the head, he reached for the butter, silent as a mouse.
    Shaking out her napkin, April noticed his hand was trembling as he buttered a piece of cornbread. Perusing his pale features, she frowned. He hadn’t had a spell with his heart for weeks now. Was he ill again and not telling her?
    Picking up a dish of Datha’s watermelon pickles, she offered it to him. “You’re awfully quiet today. Don’t you feel well?”
    He was bad about not telling her when he felt poorly, thinking to spare her unnecessary worry. But she worried anyway. Grandpa wasn’t young anymore, though the way he worked like a harvest hand around the mortuary, lifting bodies and moving heavy pine caskets, you’d never guess it.
    â€œI feel fine, thank you.” Riley’s face flushed with color as he snapped open his napkin.
    â€œYou look odd. Is the heat bothering you?”
    It was insufferably hot for fall. Muggy, as if a storm was waiting just off the coast. A good rain to settle the dust and cool dispositions would be appreciated.
    â€œNothing wrong that a little dinner won’t take care of. Pass the preserves, please.”
    They waited in silence for Datha to bring the main course.
    â€œClarence looks nice. I’m sure Edith is pleased.”
    â€œHmm,” Riley muttered, taking a sip of coffee.
    Datha carried in a large platter of roast beef, boiled potatoes and carrots. Dishes of cooked cabbage, brown beans, plump ears of corn, festive red beets and thick brown gravy followed.
    April’s distraught gaze swept the heavily laden table and she sighed. Datha cooked enough to feed an army of foot soldiers, but April had given up complaining. It didn’t matter what she said. Having learned at her grandmother’s side, Datha couldn’t seem to cook meals for fewer than twelve people.
    Now the two of them just let her cook to her heart’s content, resigned to share leftovers with neighboring shutins.
    Serving herself potatoes and meat, April smiled. “This looks delicious.”
    â€œThank you, April girl.” Smiling back, Datha returned to the kitchen.
    The two of them ate in silence, until Riley suddenly cleared his throat and laid the butter knife aside.
    April, knowing some kind of pronouncement was forthcoming, put down her fork.
    â€œApril Delane, I’ve mulled this over all afternoon.”
    Her pulse jumped. Grandpa never used her middle name unless he was upset with her. By the thundercloud forming on his face, he was more than upset. He was furious….
    Oh, no! He knew she was working with Lydia Pinkham. Someone—some blabbermouth doctor—had told him! Dr. Fuller had recognized her, after all!
    Dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, she steeled herself. Riley Ogden was a patient man, but when he was angry, he was just like Great-grandfather Owen. Impossible to reason with.
    Managing to keep her tone light, she asked, “Is something wrong?”
    â€œApril.” Riley’s voice held a rare hint of authority as his faded blue eyes pinned her to the chair.
    Swallowing, she feigned unusual interest in the bowl of potatoes. “Yes, Grandpa?”
    â€œYoung lady, you’re old enough to do what you want, but how can you think of selling that Pinkham woman’s poison?”
    April’s knife clattered to her plate. “Who told you?”
    â€œNever mind who told me!”
    â€œI know who it was! That snoopy doctor told you, didn’t he! That interfering, sanctimonious—”
    â€œNever mind who told me!” Riley thundered. “Doctoring’s best left to doctors! No silly brew concocted by that Pinkham woman is going to fix women’s ills. No vegetable compound is going to cure what ails them. People get sick and die, April. Living in a mortuary, you should know this. Mrs. Grimes died in childbirth. Mrs. Wazinski from influenza. Bertha Dickens from a