Read Online Chasing Charity by Marcia Gruver - Free Book Online Page A

least bit worried?”
    Bertha shrugged. “She’ll turn up by suppertime.” Magda’s hard stare from across the room weighed her down, but she kept her attention on the game.
    “Sometimes you’re too harsh with that girl.”
    She looked up. “I don’t go to be. Life is cruel. I want her fit to handle it.”
    Magda bent close to the window and took one more peek at the weather. “There’s a limit to what a person can take.” She turned and held up one finger in a cautionary gesture. “Mark my words—keep it up and she’ll turn on you.”
    Bertha struggled to keep her voice even. “She already has.”
    “Tommyrot. That child loves you more than life. She’s a good girl, to boot. Count your blessings, Bertie. Suppose you had to contend with my—”
    “Emmy!”
    Magda froze at Bertha’s cry then followed her nod to the head of the stairs where Emmy reclined against the newel post. “Well, well. So you decided to come out of hiding. How long you been standing there?”
    The girl didn’t answer. Hand in front of her face, she studied her tapered nails as though they held the answers to all of life’s questions.
    “Emily, I’m talking to you.” Magda walked to the lower landing and stared up. “You may as well come on down. You can’t eavesdrop on folks once they know you’re there.”
    With an angry swish of her skirts, Emmy flounced down the stairs. On the bottom step, she turned a surly face to her mama. “I’m hungry. Were you planning to let me perish?”
    Magda snorted. “There was no danger of that.”
    Sucking in her middle, Emmy looked down and wrapped her hands around her tiny waist. “Whatever do you mean? Why, look at me wasting away. I haven’t eaten a bite for days.”
    Her mama raised an eyebrow. “Stolen provisions don’t count? What about the food you’ve pilfered from my kitchen every night?”
    “Mama, take that back! I never did.”
    “Emily, gnawed drumsticks don’t naturally sprout from hedges, nor do lamb chops spring up in front yards. You’ve littered the place with your leavings. Did you think no one would notice?”
    Emmy raised her chin and turned away. “Why blame me? There’s no telling what’s subject to spring up around this house.” She flashed a pointed glance at Bertha. “Or who.”
    Not one to be trifled with, Magda advanced on Emmy, her voice a threatening growl. “After the shenanigans you’ve pulled, young lady, it would serve you best to lower that nose and act civil.” She pointed. “Get over there and apologize to Bertha; then march into that kitchen and fetch yourself some food. No one will be serving you today.”
    Emmy dashed over and curtsied. “Sorry, Aunt Bert.” Skirts rustling, she scuttled into the kitchen.
    Watching her go, Bertha grinned. “Them rosebushes sure tore up that pretty face.”
    “Looks like she hit every one. The very idea, skulking about the windows of her own home trying to break in. She scared the dickens out of me. Served her right to meet the business end of a thorn or two.”
    Bertha leaned against the chaise and chuckled. “Now who’s being harsh? Still, I bet it’ll be quite a spell before she tries it again.”
    Magda grunted and picked up her cup. “It better be.” Thunder shook the house as she settled on the divan to finish their game.
    Bertha stole a casual glance at the window, her heart crowding her throat.
    Magda moved as if to play her turn, but her hand crossed the checkerboard instead and gripped Bertha’s fingers.
    Startled, Bertha looked up into caring brown eyes ... and felt her armor slide. “Oh, Magda! Where could she be?”
    ***
    Emmy found a fresh loaf in the bread box and cut thick, crusty slices from the end. The corner pantry behind her yielded a jar of muscadine jelly. She scooped fat globs onto buttered bread and spread it clear to the edges. Her mouth watered before she could close the sandwich and get it to her lips. Grateful for something besides fried meat, she took a huge