Read Online Embers of Love by Tracie Peterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tracie Peterson
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reader.”
“Never learned myself.” He turned back to his job of loading the firebox as Jack put the train in motion. “Never saw a need. Guess you can read enough for all of us.”
Deborah shook her head. “You ought to learn, George. You’d be surprised how much fun it can be. I could even help you if you’d like.”
He laughed. “Won’t help in gettin’ the steam up, so I don’t reckon I need it.”
She looked out the window and sighed. Ignorance seemed the answer to all things uncomfortable or challenging.
Lord, she prayed, I know you brought me back here to help my family. I want to help them. I love them. But there’s so much more out there, beyond my little world in Perkinsville, Texas. . . .
C HAPTER 6
After church on Sunday, the congregation gathered outside under the shady box elders and hickories and held a picnic lunch. Everyone brought something to share, and soon the atmosphere was quite merry. Lizzie had never experienced anything like it. Gone were the pretenses and worries of social status. Even the Perkins family blended with the lowliest mill worker and his family.
The contrast in clothing was evident. The members of the poorer families were dressed simply in garments that had seen a great deal of wear. Many of the outfits bore patches and stains, but it was the best they could offer. People from more affluent families wore stylish outfits that looked store-bought and new, compared to the outfits of their less wealthy neighbors. The Vandermarks fell in between, neither too fashionable nor too unkempt. Lizzie now understood why Deborah had traded most of her beautiful gowns for simpler fare at the secondhand shop in Nacogdoches. Yet even now, as Deborah approached in a lovely gown with yellow flowers set against a cream-colored background, she looked radiant – almost elegant. Everyone seemed happy to see her and stopped her frequently to bid her welcome home or to ask about her travels.
At last Deborah managed to separate herself and closed the distance to Lizzie, who was filling her plate. “G. W. is all alone, and I want you to help me keep him from stewing and fretting.”
Lizzie met Deborah’s determined expression. “What can I do?” She turned back to the table and took a piece of corn bread.
“Just go talk to him. He tends to get moody at these gatherings because he doesn’t want to have to talk to anyone about anything. Just sit with him and keep him from thinking on Papa’s death.”
Lizzie took up a piece of fried chicken and looked to her friend in confusion. “And how am I supposed to do that? I can hardly keep a man from thinking about what he chooses.”
“If you talk to him about other things, he’ll have to keep his mind elsewhere.” Deborah took hold of Lizzie’s arm and pulled her in the direction of the creek. “He’s over here.”
Barely keeping her plate balanced, Lizzie fought to keep up with Deborah. She didn’t think this was a good idea, but it didn’t appear she had a choice in the matter.
“G. W., Lizzie doesn’t have anyone to talk to. I told her she could come sit with you,” Deborah said, releasing her friend as they approached G. W.
He sat with his back to a tree, a plate of food uneaten in his lap. Lizzie could tell that he wasn’t in a mood for company, but he was too much of a gentleman to say so.
“I can go if it’s too much of a bother,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “That’s all right.”
Deborah smiled. “I told you it would be fine.” She lifted her skirt and whirled off in the opposite direction. “I’ll be back after a bit.”
“I really am sorry,” Lizzie told him.
G. W. shrugged. “I know what she’s up to. So long as you know it, too, then we won’t be duped.”
She looked at the ground and then to her plate, wondering how she was going to sit without dumping her food. G. W. seemed to understand her predicament and put his own plate aside. He was on his feet assisting her before Lizzie
“Never learned myself.” He turned back to his job of loading the firebox as Jack put the train in motion. “Never saw a need. Guess you can read enough for all of us.”
Deborah shook her head. “You ought to learn, George. You’d be surprised how much fun it can be. I could even help you if you’d like.”
He laughed. “Won’t help in gettin’ the steam up, so I don’t reckon I need it.”
She looked out the window and sighed. Ignorance seemed the answer to all things uncomfortable or challenging.
Lord, she prayed, I know you brought me back here to help my family. I want to help them. I love them. But there’s so much more out there, beyond my little world in Perkinsville, Texas. . . .
C HAPTER 6
After church on Sunday, the congregation gathered outside under the shady box elders and hickories and held a picnic lunch. Everyone brought something to share, and soon the atmosphere was quite merry. Lizzie had never experienced anything like it. Gone were the pretenses and worries of social status. Even the Perkins family blended with the lowliest mill worker and his family.
The contrast in clothing was evident. The members of the poorer families were dressed simply in garments that had seen a great deal of wear. Many of the outfits bore patches and stains, but it was the best they could offer. People from more affluent families wore stylish outfits that looked store-bought and new, compared to the outfits of their less wealthy neighbors. The Vandermarks fell in between, neither too fashionable nor too unkempt. Lizzie now understood why Deborah had traded most of her beautiful gowns for simpler fare at the secondhand shop in Nacogdoches. Yet even now, as Deborah approached in a lovely gown with yellow flowers set against a cream-colored background, she looked radiant – almost elegant. Everyone seemed happy to see her and stopped her frequently to bid her welcome home or to ask about her travels.
At last Deborah managed to separate herself and closed the distance to Lizzie, who was filling her plate. “G. W. is all alone, and I want you to help me keep him from stewing and fretting.”
Lizzie met Deborah’s determined expression. “What can I do?” She turned back to the table and took a piece of corn bread.
“Just go talk to him. He tends to get moody at these gatherings because he doesn’t want to have to talk to anyone about anything. Just sit with him and keep him from thinking on Papa’s death.”
Lizzie took up a piece of fried chicken and looked to her friend in confusion. “And how am I supposed to do that? I can hardly keep a man from thinking about what he chooses.”
“If you talk to him about other things, he’ll have to keep his mind elsewhere.” Deborah took hold of Lizzie’s arm and pulled her in the direction of the creek. “He’s over here.”
Barely keeping her plate balanced, Lizzie fought to keep up with Deborah. She didn’t think this was a good idea, but it didn’t appear she had a choice in the matter.
“G. W., Lizzie doesn’t have anyone to talk to. I told her she could come sit with you,” Deborah said, releasing her friend as they approached G. W.
He sat with his back to a tree, a plate of food uneaten in his lap. Lizzie could tell that he wasn’t in a mood for company, but he was too much of a gentleman to say so.
“I can go if it’s too much of a bother,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “That’s all right.”
Deborah smiled. “I told you it would be fine.” She lifted her skirt and whirled off in the opposite direction. “I’ll be back after a bit.”
“I really am sorry,” Lizzie told him.
G. W. shrugged. “I know what she’s up to. So long as you know it, too, then we won’t be duped.”
She looked at the ground and then to her plate, wondering how she was going to sit without dumping her food. G. W. seemed to understand her predicament and put his own plate aside. He was on his feet assisting her before Lizzie
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