Read Online Jaded by Varina Denman - Free Book Online Page B

but JohnScott snapped, “Ruthie, don’t.”
    As the Cunninghams approached the driver’s side of the truck, Dodd called, “It’s JohnScott, right? Is this where you live?”
    â€œNaw, this is Ruthie’s house.” JohnScott pointed his thumb toward me, and Dodd and Grady bent to look into the truck.
    The preacher glanced at me, making brief eye contact before focusing his attention on something down the street.
    Well, that was subtle.
    Grady grinned. “Hey there, Ruthie-the-checker-girl. We meet again. I didn’t know you lived here. Our house is just a few streets over.”
    He sounded ridiculous. Not only did everyone in Trapp live a few streets over, but the church had used the same house as a parsonage for as long as I could remember.
    â€œRight, Grady,” I answered. “I know where you live.”
    JohnScott tapped his fingers on the seat, warning me to behave.
    â€œCan I ask you guys a question?” Grady said. “What’s the deal with all those cows on the edge of town?”
    â€œYou mean the feedlot?” asked JohnScott.
    â€œThat’s quite a smell you’ve got there, Coach Pickett,” Grady said.
    JohnScott bobbed his head. “When the wind blows just right, it’ll knock you down.”
    Grady snickered. “Maybe this town should’ve been named Crap instead of Trapp.”
    JohnScott’s shoulders shook with stifled laughter, not because of what Grady said—we’d heard it a million times—but because it came from Grady. The goody-goody preacher’s brother saying a dirty word. JohnScott collected himself. “You ready for the game on Friday?”
    â€œThe jury’s still out,” Grady admitted. “I’m not big on football, but it appears I ought to play regardless.”
    â€œYeah,” replied JohnScott. “Everybody who’s anybody plays football. In Trapp, at least. No pressure or anything.”
    â€œOh no. No pressure at all.” Grady smiled. “I’m thinking it’s a good deal, though. Dodd said it’ll be like becoming all things to all men.”
    JohnScott looked from Grady to Dodd. “I’m not following you.”
    The screen door thumped, and Momma appeared in the doorway, sending a surge of condemnation from her heart to mine. “Ruth Ann, come in the house. Now.”
    Grady poked his head into the truck and whispered, “Is that your mom, Ruthie? I’d love to meet her.” But the screen door had already slapped against the frame, prompting Grady to hurriedly add, “Never mind, maybe later.”
    I slid out of the truck, miffed at Momma but grateful to have a reason to get away. As I tramped across the yard, JohnScott and Grady continued their conversation. The teenager asked if JohnScott had ever been to church, and my cousin replied, no, his family wasn’t the churchgoing type. Apparently this was Grady’s standard break-the-ice question.
    I looped my finger through the cool metal handle of the screen door and glanced over my shoulder. Grady leaned against the driver’s-side door, but Dodd still hovered a few feet away. When our eyes met, the preacher held my gaze, as though he was going to say something, and a ripple of raw curiosity sloshed through my nerve endings, sickening me. But I waited a second or two, not wanting to seem bad mannered.
    Sweat had dampened his hair, and he breathed irregularly because he’d been running. He took a half step toward me but appeared to change his mind and moved to the shadows of the truck, where he could join the discussion.
    I entered the house with a shrug.
    Momma lay on the couch watching a rerun. “Stay away from them, Ruth Ann.”
    â€œI will.”
    â€œThey’re nothing but trouble.”
    Getting irritated with her always produced more problems, so I perched on the arm of the couch. “Everything go all right at the diner today?”
    Her eyes