Read Online Deep in the Heart of Trouble by Deeanne Gist - Free Book Online Page A

she’d seen Crook, and mention of the babies had provoked a tender expression.
    “They’re so adorable, Hamilton,” she said. “I could gobble them right up.”
    Crook pushed his spectacles farther up onto his nose. “Yes, they’re something special, all right.” His expression sobered. “I’ve been thinking about you today. How’s your father?”
    The softness about her melted into melancholy. “It’s been a difficult day for us both.”
    “I’m sorry,” Crook said. “What brings you to the store at this hour?”
    She looked somewhat at a loss, then noticed the basket of oranges holding open the door. “I’d like one of these, please.”
    “An orange? You came all the way out here for an orange?”
    “Yes, please.” She picked one up and gently squeezed it. “Can you put it on our tab?”
    Crook eyed her curiously but didn’t argue.
    “Your turn, Mr. Bryant,” Harley said.
    Tony turned his attention back to the board, but he could see Miss Spreckelmeyer out of the corner of his eye. She made a show of noticing them for the first time, then approached the barrelhead slowly, her boots tapping the floorboards.
    “Good evening, Harley,” she said.
    “Hey, Miss Essie. Sorry you’re havin’ a bad time. What’s the matter?”
    She gave the boy a sad smile. “My mother died two years ago today.”
    Harley’s face collapsed. “I’d forgotten it was today. The judge all right?”
    “As good as can be expected, I suppose.”
    Tony had learned Mrs. Spreckelmeyer was deceased, but, of course, had no idea this was the anniversary. The anger he felt toward Essie dulled a bit in light of the circumstances.
    She turned to him. “Mr. Bryant.”
    He stood, snagging Harley by the shirt collar and lifting him to his feet, as well.
    “Miss Spreckelmeyer,” he said. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Harley squirmed away from Tony’s grip.
    “Thank you,” she said. “And, please, don’t mind me. Go ahead and resume your game.”
    He grabbed a chair from beside the potbellied stove and brought it to the barrel, holding it in readiness. Smoothing her skirts beneath her, she sat. He and the boy followed suit.
    “Who’s black?” she asked.
    “I am,” Harley replied.
    “Hmmm.” She and Harley exchanged a smile.
    Tony frowned at the board.
    “Shouldn’t you be home having supper?” she asked Harley while cutting into the orange’s skin with her thumbnail.
    “Ma, Brianna, and a couple of ladies are upstairs fussin’ over Mrs. Crook’s babies. Ma told me to wait here for her.”
    “Brianna’s here?” Essie asked, glancing at a curtain that led to a back room. “Brianna Pennington?”
    “Yep.”
    “I heard you’ve been teaching her how to fish.”
    Harley scratched his chest. “Reckon you heard right.”
    Essie cocked her head. “How’s she doing?”
    “She won’t put worms on her hook. Thinks it’s mean. So I’m gonna take her snake hunting. No killin’ involved in snake hunting.”
    Tony glanced at Essie, waiting for her to raise an objection to Harley doing something so foolhardy—particularly with a girl in tow. But she didn’t so much as bat an eye.
    “Who’s Brianna?” he asked.
    “You know,” Harley said. “She’s one of them Pennington girls.
    There’s a whole passel of ’em, aren’t there, Miss Essie?”
    “There sure are.” She turned to Tony. “Bri’s the youngest of the cooper’s eight daughters. Her mother died about three years ago.”
    Nodding, Tony moved his piece. Essie paused in the peeling of her orange to assess his move and again gave Harley the slightest of smiles.
    “We’re playing best of seven,” Harley said. “I’ve already won three out of four.”
    Tony stiffened. Essie might have been irascible last night due to her distress over her mother’s anniversary, but that was no call to fire him, nor to gloat over him being beaten by this kid in knee pants.
    She split open the orange, and its fresh smell filled their corner of the