Read Online Francesca of Lost Nation by Lucinda Sue Crosby - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lucinda Sue Crosby
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return. And his brother isn’t any gift, either.”
She clattered the dishes as she put them away and slammed the cupboard doors as she continued ranting: “It was an accident!”
Bang! More clatter.
“The way he spoke to me!
Another Bang!
“The way he spoke to you!”
Clash! Bang!
“How did I ever let myself get into this?”
Clatter! Bang! Now, she was working on the pots and pans.
“Matthew and Daniel Mosley can both go straight to Hell!”
Bang!
I sat silently, waiting for Francesca to calm down, as I knew she eventually would. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge … unless Maude was involved.
“Maybe we can have Lincoln fix the dent in Matthew’s car,” I suggested, when relative calm had been restored to Home Farm.
“I suppose so, although it’s more than that cretin deserves,” she sniffed.
Lincoln didn’t think the dent would be too much trouble.
“Sure is a shame someone marked up this beautiful car,” Lincoln remarked with a grin. “Look here, hardly even scratched the paint. You must have been travelin’ kinda slow.”
A plumber’s helper was all that was necessary to make the car like new again. Save for the few scratches we waxed out, you couldn’t even tell the Duisenberg had been hit by a delinquent child driver.
* * * * *
When the mail came, a little past noon, there was a letter from the Waldorf Astoria in New York City, one of the most famous hotels in the world.
Dear Frances and Sarah,
How we love you both and miss you dearly…
The traffic never seems to stop here. You awaken to its rhythm in the early morning and it rocks you to sleep at night. Your mother and I became instantly accustomed to the sounds and hardly notice them after only 20 hours!
The smells overtake you on every street corner, where small groceries, called “delicatessens” flourish, selling exotic delights from many cultures.
The city is patrolled by men on horseback and your mother and I took a ride through Central Park in a hansom cab, pulled by a sweet-coupled bay …
We set sail tomorrow.
Love to you both, from our hearts to your hearts.
After reading the letter two or three times, I folded it carefully and put it into my treasure chest. I still have all the letters I received from my parents that summer .
I wasn’t so keen on our next chore. It was time to post notices around and about that we had found a small, reddish female dog. The good news was there would be no truck-driving lessons for me today. Instead, we saddled up RedBird and Miss Blossom and ambled down the highway, nailing the flyers on telephone poles and fence posts as we went.
I fastened mine where I thought it would be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to see. Francesca noticed but said nothing.
When we returned to Main House, Matthew Mosley's car was gone, an occasion for gentle rejoicing on my part.
Since Lincoln was still at the house doing chores, we invited him to have lunch with us — left-over chicken and mashed potato sandwiches — open-faced ones. Although this was a common meal in Lost Nation, I haven’t seen it anywhere else. Their loss!
As the afternoon heat swelled, it was time for a swim. Using the shortcut, Francesca beat Babe and me to the pond. As per usual, she dove in head first while I wriggled in one inch at a time. Babe delighted in the water, too, slapping at it with her paw, barking as she played.
It was the perfect, glorious, lazy afternoon. Nearing sundown, we dozed underneath the oak, letting the warm air dry us. It was positively paradise … or so it seemed.
At first, I thought I was imagining it, since Francesca didn’t stir. It felt like someone was watching us.
What was that?
I heard a twig snap. That’s when Babe took off barking, tearing in the direction of the escalating noise. It sounded like someone stomping quickly through the undergrowth. I started to go after Babe, but Grandmother grabbed my arm.
We gathered our things and
She clattered the dishes as she put them away and slammed the cupboard doors as she continued ranting: “It was an accident!”
Bang! More clatter.
“The way he spoke to me!
Another Bang!
“The way he spoke to you!”
Clash! Bang!
“How did I ever let myself get into this?”
Clatter! Bang! Now, she was working on the pots and pans.
“Matthew and Daniel Mosley can both go straight to Hell!”
Bang!
I sat silently, waiting for Francesca to calm down, as I knew she eventually would. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge … unless Maude was involved.
“Maybe we can have Lincoln fix the dent in Matthew’s car,” I suggested, when relative calm had been restored to Home Farm.
“I suppose so, although it’s more than that cretin deserves,” she sniffed.
Lincoln didn’t think the dent would be too much trouble.
“Sure is a shame someone marked up this beautiful car,” Lincoln remarked with a grin. “Look here, hardly even scratched the paint. You must have been travelin’ kinda slow.”
A plumber’s helper was all that was necessary to make the car like new again. Save for the few scratches we waxed out, you couldn’t even tell the Duisenberg had been hit by a delinquent child driver.
* * * * *
When the mail came, a little past noon, there was a letter from the Waldorf Astoria in New York City, one of the most famous hotels in the world.
Dear Frances and Sarah,
How we love you both and miss you dearly…
The traffic never seems to stop here. You awaken to its rhythm in the early morning and it rocks you to sleep at night. Your mother and I became instantly accustomed to the sounds and hardly notice them after only 20 hours!
The smells overtake you on every street corner, where small groceries, called “delicatessens” flourish, selling exotic delights from many cultures.
The city is patrolled by men on horseback and your mother and I took a ride through Central Park in a hansom cab, pulled by a sweet-coupled bay …
We set sail tomorrow.
Love to you both, from our hearts to your hearts.
After reading the letter two or three times, I folded it carefully and put it into my treasure chest. I still have all the letters I received from my parents that summer .
I wasn’t so keen on our next chore. It was time to post notices around and about that we had found a small, reddish female dog. The good news was there would be no truck-driving lessons for me today. Instead, we saddled up RedBird and Miss Blossom and ambled down the highway, nailing the flyers on telephone poles and fence posts as we went.
I fastened mine where I thought it would be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to see. Francesca noticed but said nothing.
When we returned to Main House, Matthew Mosley's car was gone, an occasion for gentle rejoicing on my part.
Since Lincoln was still at the house doing chores, we invited him to have lunch with us — left-over chicken and mashed potato sandwiches — open-faced ones. Although this was a common meal in Lost Nation, I haven’t seen it anywhere else. Their loss!
As the afternoon heat swelled, it was time for a swim. Using the shortcut, Francesca beat Babe and me to the pond. As per usual, she dove in head first while I wriggled in one inch at a time. Babe delighted in the water, too, slapping at it with her paw, barking as she played.
It was the perfect, glorious, lazy afternoon. Nearing sundown, we dozed underneath the oak, letting the warm air dry us. It was positively paradise … or so it seemed.
At first, I thought I was imagining it, since Francesca didn’t stir. It felt like someone was watching us.
What was that?
I heard a twig snap. That’s when Babe took off barking, tearing in the direction of the escalating noise. It sounded like someone stomping quickly through the undergrowth. I started to go after Babe, but Grandmother grabbed my arm.
We gathered our things and
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