Read Online Bygones by Kim Vogel Sawyer - Free Book Online Page B

his early twenties. . .so maybe the late 1920s?” It felt good to share a bit of family history with Beth. She picked up a box and turned toward the house.
    Beth plodded up the back porch stairs and through the utility porch door, which Marie had propped open. “Then that table would be more than seventy years old.” Beth’s tone turned calculating. “Definitely antique, and certainly unique. I need to do some exploring on the Internet to figure out its value.”
    Marie put her box on the kitchen table, staring at her daughter. “You’re planning to sell it?”
    Beth gawked over the top of the box she held. “Well, yeah. I mean, that’s why I’m here, remember? To claim all this stuff, sell it, and open my antique shop.” With a light laugh, she added, “Duh!”
    “Don’t get sassy.” Marie spun on her heel and headed outside again.
    Beth trotted up beside her. “What are you getting so huffy about?”
    Marie stopped and whirled on Beth. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Beth was right—what was she getting huffy about? The only reason they were here was to meet the condition of Aunt Lisbeth’s will, lay claim to everything, sell it for whatever Bethcould gain, and get out. Why was she feeling territorial? She sighed and touched Beth’s cheek.
    “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t sleep very well last night, and I’m tired and cranky. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
    Beth’s smile returned. “That’s okay. I understand.” She moved to the end of the trailer, her ponytail swinging. “This afternoon, while I get my computer set up and figure out how to connect to the Internet, you can nap.” Then she spun around, her face set in a frown. “I just realized. . .no electricity and no phone line, so no way to connect.” She released a disgruntled uh . “This really stinks!”
    Marie put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “There’s a phone line at the café and all the electricity you could need. We’ll rig it up over there, okay?”
    “Whew!” Beth brightened again. “Thank goodness the café is halfway modernized.” Grabbing a box, she moved toward the house. “Speaking of the café, I’m hungry. Can we find something to eat?”
    Marie followed Beth into the kitchen. “Let’s get some of this stuff put away so we have moving-around room, and we’ll have some cold cereal. We’ll have to do simple meals until I can remember how to operate Aunt Lisbeth’s stove.”
    The sound of a knock made both women spin toward the utility porch. Marie’s heart leaped into her throat. They’d come! Her family was here! She raced through the utility porch to the back door to find Henry Braun in the open doorway. Her hopes plummeted once more.
    “Henry.”
    He took off his hat and offered a smile, apparently unaffected by her flat greeting. “Good morning, Marie. I see you’re hard at work.”
    She took in his neat appearance—crisp twill trousers and dark blue shirt tucked in at the waist, clean-shaven chin, and hair combed smoothly into place. She ran a quivering hand over her tousled waves, aware of how disheveled she must look in faded jeans and an oldsweatshirt. As heat filled her face, she decided it was good it wasn’t her father at the door—he’d surely disown her a second time if he saw her like this.
    A worried frown creased Henry’s forehead. “Are you all right?”
    Ducking her head, she released a rueful chuckle. “I’m fine. I just. . .” Shaking her head, she pushed aside the jumble of emotions her disappointment had inspired, met his gaze, and forced a smile. “Come on in. I can’t offer you coffee or anything. . . .”
    Henry remained in the doorway between the kitchen and utility porch. “That’s fine. I’ve had my breakfast.”
    “Well, we haven’t,” Beth said, transferring cans of vegetables from a box to an upper cabinet. “And we won’t be able to eat decently until Mom figures out the stove.”
    “It’s