Read Online In the Land of Tea and Ravens by R.K. Ryals - Free Book Online
Authors: R.K. Ryals
Ads: Link
them!”
She shuffled into the house and Grayson followed, the door slamming behind them. His grandfather was mysteriously absent, but it had always been that way. When his grandmother was angry, people made themselves scarce.
“What did they do to you?” he asked. “What was so bad that you’d call the sheriff to pull me out of that house?”
Mildred blinked, her wrinkled hands gripping a kitchen chair. Yahtzee was set up on the table. Wheel of Fortune played on the small TV on the counter, the volume turned down.
“They killed my brother!” she hissed.
Startled, Grayson froze. “Killed? Which brother?” He searched his memory—the stories he’d been told over the years—for anything about murder. Only one memory, one uncle stood out. “ Polie ?” he asked. “Uncle Polie ?” Grayson sighed, his hand finding his grandmother’s shoulder. “He killed himself, Mamaw .”
Mildred shook his hand loose. “Because of them!” She turned to look at him. “He killed himself because of them !”
The anger in her eyes was too much, the hatred a poison that had eaten away all of her compassion. For a woman who often loved too much and forgave too easily, it took Grayson aback.
“You don’t know what they did …” Mildred released the chair, her hands shaking. Slowly, she made her way to the refrigerator, pulling it open just long enough to grab a carton of milk and a Saran-wrapped sandwich. “You missed supper,” she murmured.
Grayson waved off the food. “Tell me,” he insisted.
Mildred left the milk and sandwich resting on the counter, her frame bent wearily as she found the table again, her old body sinking slowly into the chair she always sat in. She clasped her hands, her eyes sliding to his. “There was nothing wrong with my brother. Nothing! He was strong, hardworking, and smart … until he met Violet Miller.” She wrung her hands. “She bewitched him …” She reached for the Yahtzee game, picking up the dice as if she needed something to do with her hands. “She made him fall in love with her.”
Grayson sat across from her, his gaze on her hands, on the dice she shook and then released. A six and a two.
“People aren’t forced to fall in love,” Grayson said carefully.
Mildred snorted. “Maybe not, but those women are masters at using love to drive people mad.” She scooped up the dice. “ Polie was a decent man. He wasn’t always an honest one, but he was a good one.” She threw the dice. A four and a three. “Like our father before him, Polie made and sold moonshine. It wasn’t always decent work—”
Grayson stood, his chair scraping back, his gaze on the table, on his grandmother’s wrinkled hands and the dice. “What did the Miller woman do?” he interrupted.
Mildred released the dice again. Snake eyes. “A year after they married, he started drinking his own moonshine and spending hours out walking in the fields. No one knew why. He wasn’t a drinker despite what he did for a livin ’. Never had been. Until her.” Her gaze slid up to Grayson’s. “He started murmuring to himself and took to sleeping in the fields. He even sat at the end of the road—a rifle across his lap—and held up drivers. He wouldn’t let anyone use the road unless they drove him around or paid him a toll, his gun pointed at the back of their heads.”
Grayson moved behind his grandmother, his eyes on the top of her bent head. “He was drunk—”
Mildred’s fist came down hard on the table, and the dice fell to the floor, rolling until they rested against the kitchen’s whitewashed cabinets. Double sixes. “He was possessed!” She stood, her chair slamming into Grayson’s shins as she rose. “He wouldn’t have done it otherwise! He wouldn’t have gone into the field that day, he wouldn’t have shot Violet Miller, he wouldn’t have stuck a pistol in his mouth, and he wouldn’t have taken his own life! You understand me! My brother was not a murderer, and he wasn’t a
She shuffled into the house and Grayson followed, the door slamming behind them. His grandfather was mysteriously absent, but it had always been that way. When his grandmother was angry, people made themselves scarce.
“What did they do to you?” he asked. “What was so bad that you’d call the sheriff to pull me out of that house?”
Mildred blinked, her wrinkled hands gripping a kitchen chair. Yahtzee was set up on the table. Wheel of Fortune played on the small TV on the counter, the volume turned down.
“They killed my brother!” she hissed.
Startled, Grayson froze. “Killed? Which brother?” He searched his memory—the stories he’d been told over the years—for anything about murder. Only one memory, one uncle stood out. “ Polie ?” he asked. “Uncle Polie ?” Grayson sighed, his hand finding his grandmother’s shoulder. “He killed himself, Mamaw .”
Mildred shook his hand loose. “Because of them!” She turned to look at him. “He killed himself because of them !”
The anger in her eyes was too much, the hatred a poison that had eaten away all of her compassion. For a woman who often loved too much and forgave too easily, it took Grayson aback.
“You don’t know what they did …” Mildred released the chair, her hands shaking. Slowly, she made her way to the refrigerator, pulling it open just long enough to grab a carton of milk and a Saran-wrapped sandwich. “You missed supper,” she murmured.
Grayson waved off the food. “Tell me,” he insisted.
Mildred left the milk and sandwich resting on the counter, her frame bent wearily as she found the table again, her old body sinking slowly into the chair she always sat in. She clasped her hands, her eyes sliding to his. “There was nothing wrong with my brother. Nothing! He was strong, hardworking, and smart … until he met Violet Miller.” She wrung her hands. “She bewitched him …” She reached for the Yahtzee game, picking up the dice as if she needed something to do with her hands. “She made him fall in love with her.”
Grayson sat across from her, his gaze on her hands, on the dice she shook and then released. A six and a two.
“People aren’t forced to fall in love,” Grayson said carefully.
Mildred snorted. “Maybe not, but those women are masters at using love to drive people mad.” She scooped up the dice. “ Polie was a decent man. He wasn’t always an honest one, but he was a good one.” She threw the dice. A four and a three. “Like our father before him, Polie made and sold moonshine. It wasn’t always decent work—”
Grayson stood, his chair scraping back, his gaze on the table, on his grandmother’s wrinkled hands and the dice. “What did the Miller woman do?” he interrupted.
Mildred released the dice again. Snake eyes. “A year after they married, he started drinking his own moonshine and spending hours out walking in the fields. No one knew why. He wasn’t a drinker despite what he did for a livin ’. Never had been. Until her.” Her gaze slid up to Grayson’s. “He started murmuring to himself and took to sleeping in the fields. He even sat at the end of the road—a rifle across his lap—and held up drivers. He wouldn’t let anyone use the road unless they drove him around or paid him a toll, his gun pointed at the back of their heads.”
Grayson moved behind his grandmother, his eyes on the top of her bent head. “He was drunk—”
Mildred’s fist came down hard on the table, and the dice fell to the floor, rolling until they rested against the kitchen’s whitewashed cabinets. Double sixes. “He was possessed!” She stood, her chair slamming into Grayson’s shins as she rose. “He wouldn’t have done it otherwise! He wouldn’t have gone into the field that day, he wouldn’t have shot Violet Miller, he wouldn’t have stuck a pistol in his mouth, and he wouldn’t have taken his own life! You understand me! My brother was not a murderer, and he wasn’t a
Similar Books
