Read Online Jane Austen Girl by Inglath Cooper - Free Book Online Page B

home at the edge of town.
    She flicked off the TV and dropped back against the pillows behind her, one arm flung over her eyes. The thought was too horrible to contemplate.
    She let herself remember the place now. At Christmas, during her sophomore year in high school, she’d gone there with the choir to visit with the residents and sing carols. They’d taken along hot chocolate and cookies, as well as some gifts she’d quickly realized were the only ones most of them would be getting that holiday. Before leaving they’d sung one last song, Oh Come, All Ye Faithful , and she’d stood in the back row, looking out at the faces staring up at them with such gratitude. That was the part that humbled her, lifted sobs from deep inside her so that she could only stand there, mute, tears streaming down her cheeks.
    She pictured her mother now sitting in that audience of faces, and an actual pain knifed through her chest. Even all those years ago, the place had been a rundown, sad excuse for an ending. Maybe someone had bought it and turned it into something different than what it had been then. But judging from the look on Priscilla Randall’s face when she’d mentioned it earlier, that wasn’t too likely.
    What had she expected, though? For most of Grier’s childhood, her mama had lived her life paycheck-to-paycheck, bottle of booze to bottle of booze.
    Truthfully, she guessed she’d imagined her finally finding a decent man to love her. She wasn’t sure what kind of logic she could possibly attach to this assumption, since a decent man had never once managed to find his way to her mother’s door while she’d been living with her.
    Guilt nagged low inside her now, even as she determined to push it back. Choices, she reminded herself. Life was all about choices. Every single one mattered somewhere down the line. For the bad ones, there was eventually a price to pay.
    And still.
    She was her mother.
    A knock sounded at the door. She sat straight up on the bed, startled out of her misery. Sebbie woke up and started barking. “Shh,” she said. “It’s probably just Beaner with some ice.” He’d already been up three times, once with a newspaper, once with flowers and the last time with complimentary coffee and dessert.
    Sebbie resumed his position, head on his paws, eyes wide open.
    She reached for a robe to pull over her cotton pajamas and went to the door. But the man standing outside was not Beaner. The man outside her door was Bobby Jack Randall, Darryl Lee’s brother.
    She stared at him, at a loss.
    He stared back.
    “Could I help you with something?” she finally managed, pulling her robe closed at the neck.
    He shook his head, blinked hard. “I—you’re—”
    “Grier McAllister,” she finished for him. “We met this afternoon. With Darryl Lee.”
    “Yeah. I know,” he said, running a hand through wavy black hair. “I thought you were—”
    “The current wedge in your brother’s marriage.”
    He folded his arms across his expansive chest, giving her a long look. “And you’re not?”
    “Hardly. Look, Mr. Randall, would you like to tell me how you found my room?”
    He hesitated and then admitted, “Beaner Purdy’s a sucker for banana splits.”
    “Ah. Nice to know the security here is of such high standards. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Randall?”
    “You’re doing the interviews for that show – Dream Date ?”
    He said the show’s name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I am,” she said, bristling a little.
    “Could we talk for a minute?”
    “Sure,” she said, waving a hand for him to continue.
    He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her, his green eyes lasering her to the spot. “Somewhere a little more public,” he said, his gaze lifting over her shoulder to the room behind her.
    She tightened the belt of her robe, cleared her throat. “Mr. Randall, I was about to go to bed. I’m expecting a long day tomorrow.”
    “It’s Bobby Jack. And