up a brave front, the morning sun had lost its battle with a murky sky. The shadowy corners crept so close they’d soon need to trim a lantern or abandon their game altogether.
Magda squirmed and sighed. “That’s it, Bertha. You’ve made your move. It’s my turn.”
“Hold your horses. I ain’t let go yet.”
Another huffy exhale from across the board brought Bertha’s attention to Magda’s face. “You mind to stop all that blowing? You’re about to scatter these checkers.” She scowled and leaned away some. “Besides, you ate onions this morning, didn’t you? Your breath could peel the paper from these walls.”
Magda lifted her chin. “You know I like a few diced on my scrambled eggs.”
“Humph! A few would mean you could still taste the eggs.”
Reaching around to the side table, Magda picked up her coffee cup. “Just hush and play, would you?”
Bertha looked up as big Nash came through from the kitchen carrying one of Magda’s dining room chairs. On the way he banged it against the doorpost and bumped everything he passed.
Magda grimaced. “Land sakes, Nash. There won’t be nothing left.”
He glanced up and smiled as if he’d just noticed them in the room. “Maybe so, but whatever left gon’ stand up straight. I fixed that wobbly leg you been fussing ’bout so long.” He set the chair down and pushed it up to the table.
Bertha saw right away that the back of the chair stood four inches shy of the other five in the set. “Lookie there, Magda,” she hooted. “You called it right. There’s hardly nothing left.”
Magda scooted forward to look. “Nash! What on earth have you done?”
He flashed another big smile and gave the chair a good shake. “See there, Miz Dane? She’s steady.”
Slumping against the sofa, Magda shook her head. “Never mind that fool thing. Have you seen Charity this morning?”
“No, ma’am. I ain’t seen her since last evening. I would’a reckoned she’d be in the parlor with you all.”
Bertha gave him a pointed stare. “Do you see her in here anywhere?”
He gazed about the room. “I don’t see her in here a’tall. Is she s’posed to be?”
Magda winked at Bertha. “I thought you saw everything that happens around this place.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Where’ve you been all this time?”
“Where’ve I been?” He stood taller and squared his shoulders. “Doing what I s’posed be doing, Miz Dane. Caring for old Rebel and tending chores. So unless Miss Charity come out to the barn, I wouldn’t be likely to see her, now, would I?”
“Well, keep an eye out for her, you hear? She wanted a ride into town, but since the buggy never left the yard, I can’t imagine how she went. I don’t guess you hauled her on your shoulders?”
His grin returned. “No, ma’am.”
“Did you turn Rebel out to graze?”
“No, ma’am, he’s still in his stall. It’s coming up a powerful blow out there. That old sky black as pitch. The pasture ain’t safe for old Rebel jus’ now.” With that, he tipped his battered hat and backed out the way he came.
Magda sighed and settled again onto her pillows. “I just can’t figure it. How did Charity leave if Nash didn’t drive her, and where did she go?”
Bertha’s heart lurched, but she kept her peace.
Magda cast an accusing glance. “You reckon she knows about the house?”
“She’s bound to by now.”
“Then where could she be, Bert? And in this storm? She’s been gone an awful long time.”
Bertha let go of the checker. “Hush and play. It’s your turn.”
Outside, what started as a heavy patter on the porch became a ruckus of hard-driving rain. Magda heaved herself up and rushed to close the window. “Honey, I think that’s hail. I sure hope we don’t get us a tornado.”
“Me, too, but I wouldn’t be surprised. A good twister’s long overdue.”
Magda released the tasseled shade and spun around to face her. “Charity’s out in this! Aren’t you the
Magda squirmed and sighed. “That’s it, Bertha. You’ve made your move. It’s my turn.”
“Hold your horses. I ain’t let go yet.”
Another huffy exhale from across the board brought Bertha’s attention to Magda’s face. “You mind to stop all that blowing? You’re about to scatter these checkers.” She scowled and leaned away some. “Besides, you ate onions this morning, didn’t you? Your breath could peel the paper from these walls.”
Magda lifted her chin. “You know I like a few diced on my scrambled eggs.”
“Humph! A few would mean you could still taste the eggs.”
Reaching around to the side table, Magda picked up her coffee cup. “Just hush and play, would you?”
Bertha looked up as big Nash came through from the kitchen carrying one of Magda’s dining room chairs. On the way he banged it against the doorpost and bumped everything he passed.
Magda grimaced. “Land sakes, Nash. There won’t be nothing left.”
He glanced up and smiled as if he’d just noticed them in the room. “Maybe so, but whatever left gon’ stand up straight. I fixed that wobbly leg you been fussing ’bout so long.” He set the chair down and pushed it up to the table.
Bertha saw right away that the back of the chair stood four inches shy of the other five in the set. “Lookie there, Magda,” she hooted. “You called it right. There’s hardly nothing left.”
Magda scooted forward to look. “Nash! What on earth have you done?”
He flashed another big smile and gave the chair a good shake. “See there, Miz Dane? She’s steady.”
Slumping against the sofa, Magda shook her head. “Never mind that fool thing. Have you seen Charity this morning?”
“No, ma’am. I ain’t seen her since last evening. I would’a reckoned she’d be in the parlor with you all.”
Bertha gave him a pointed stare. “Do you see her in here anywhere?”
He gazed about the room. “I don’t see her in here a’tall. Is she s’posed to be?”
Magda winked at Bertha. “I thought you saw everything that happens around this place.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Where’ve you been all this time?”
“Where’ve I been?” He stood taller and squared his shoulders. “Doing what I s’posed be doing, Miz Dane. Caring for old Rebel and tending chores. So unless Miss Charity come out to the barn, I wouldn’t be likely to see her, now, would I?”
“Well, keep an eye out for her, you hear? She wanted a ride into town, but since the buggy never left the yard, I can’t imagine how she went. I don’t guess you hauled her on your shoulders?”
His grin returned. “No, ma’am.”
“Did you turn Rebel out to graze?”
“No, ma’am, he’s still in his stall. It’s coming up a powerful blow out there. That old sky black as pitch. The pasture ain’t safe for old Rebel jus’ now.” With that, he tipped his battered hat and backed out the way he came.
Magda sighed and settled again onto her pillows. “I just can’t figure it. How did Charity leave if Nash didn’t drive her, and where did she go?”
Bertha’s heart lurched, but she kept her peace.
Magda cast an accusing glance. “You reckon she knows about the house?”
“She’s bound to by now.”
“Then where could she be, Bert? And in this storm? She’s been gone an awful long time.”
Bertha let go of the checker. “Hush and play. It’s your turn.”
Outside, what started as a heavy patter on the porch became a ruckus of hard-driving rain. Magda heaved herself up and rushed to close the window. “Honey, I think that’s hail. I sure hope we don’t get us a tornado.”
“Me, too, but I wouldn’t be surprised. A good twister’s long overdue.”
Magda released the tasseled shade and spun around to face her. “Charity’s out in this! Aren’t you the
Similar Books
