Read Online Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) by Ramona Flightner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ramona Flightner
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embarrassment. “Come, let’s see what we have stashed away,” Gabriel said as they entered their tiny room.
Jeremy moved over to his cot against the far wall. Now when he lay with his legs fully extended, they reached three-quarters of the way across the desk. He sat with his back against the wall, facing the rest of the room, his legs folded under him. Gabriel reached under his cot, extracting a box filled with old clothes and spare sheets. He pushed it aside and crawled farther under his cot, pulling loose a smaller box, one that would be hidden by the larger box filled with junk.
He placed it on his bed and pulled off the lid. Inside he stored their treasures. A copy of the book Treasure Island he had bought for them four Christmases ago. A map of the world that they kept rolled up to one side, as many red dots as they remembered placed on it. A book with loose binding where they’d written down memories. A picture snitched from upstairs of their mother sitting next to their aunt, with their aunt carefully folded over and hidden from view. He extracted three apples and tossed one to each of his brothers.
“It’s slim pickings tonight, I’m afraid,” Gabriel said as he slipped the lid back on the box and stuffed it under the bed, sliding the large box in front of it.
They ate their apples, the room filled with the crunching noise of each bite. Richard rose, taking the apple cores and depositing them in the rubbish bin in the kitchen. He shut the door behind him and crawled onto his cot. “I’m sorry, Jer. I know you need to eat.”
“We all need to eat,” Jeremy said.
“I’ll get more food at Mr. Smithers. He won’t mind. And, Rich? Buy something at that bakery tomorrow.”
“Bakery?” Jeremy asked, raising his head from the book he was reading, amusement lighting his face. He appeared as though filled with restless anticipation, looking for any excuse to tease his middle-born brother. He relaxed at Gabriel’s subtle shake of his head.
“It appears Rich takes a new route to work each morning and passes directly by a bakery. Buy something for our cache,” Gabriel said.
Richard nodded, watching Gabriel closely, but Gabriel met his questioning glance with an inscrutable stare.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WHY WOULD A SINGLE OLD LADY eat so many cakes?” Richard whispered in Florence’s ear, causing her to start as she stood in line at the bakery. Her tense shoulders relaxed at the sound of his voice.
“Yes, the large fruitcake,” Florence said, addressing the baker’s assistant. She turned to Richard, unable to hide the relief from her gaze. “She wants a large cake each day in case any of her old friends decides to visit her. When no one calls, even though they have sent vague notes promising a visit, she sends the rest of the cake to the kitchen where the staff enjoys it. She’s quite generous.”
“I should say,” Richard said as he nodded to the assistant, purchasing a loaf of bread and a medium-size cake. After paying, he escorted Florence out of the bakery. “I’m sorry I was late today. My aunt decided I needed another tongue-lashing for fighting with her son yesterday.”
“Your cousin.” Florence raised an eyebrow as she watched him with confusion.
“He may be considered my cousin because he is my mother’s sister’s son, but I don’t consider him, or my aunt, any part of my family. My only family is my brothers.”
“You’re lucky,” Florence murmured. “Even though you’re an orphan, you still have family.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as one, even though my aunt and cousins taunt me with the word often enough. What would you know about orphans?” Richard asked. He studied her for a moment before coming to a stop. “I see. You’re one too.”
Florence watched him with confusion. “But so are you. That’s what I don’t understand. You have no parents, just like me. Why don’t you consider yourself an orphan?”
Richard offered his arm, and she slipped
Jeremy moved over to his cot against the far wall. Now when he lay with his legs fully extended, they reached three-quarters of the way across the desk. He sat with his back against the wall, facing the rest of the room, his legs folded under him. Gabriel reached under his cot, extracting a box filled with old clothes and spare sheets. He pushed it aside and crawled farther under his cot, pulling loose a smaller box, one that would be hidden by the larger box filled with junk.
He placed it on his bed and pulled off the lid. Inside he stored their treasures. A copy of the book Treasure Island he had bought for them four Christmases ago. A map of the world that they kept rolled up to one side, as many red dots as they remembered placed on it. A book with loose binding where they’d written down memories. A picture snitched from upstairs of their mother sitting next to their aunt, with their aunt carefully folded over and hidden from view. He extracted three apples and tossed one to each of his brothers.
“It’s slim pickings tonight, I’m afraid,” Gabriel said as he slipped the lid back on the box and stuffed it under the bed, sliding the large box in front of it.
They ate their apples, the room filled with the crunching noise of each bite. Richard rose, taking the apple cores and depositing them in the rubbish bin in the kitchen. He shut the door behind him and crawled onto his cot. “I’m sorry, Jer. I know you need to eat.”
“We all need to eat,” Jeremy said.
“I’ll get more food at Mr. Smithers. He won’t mind. And, Rich? Buy something at that bakery tomorrow.”
“Bakery?” Jeremy asked, raising his head from the book he was reading, amusement lighting his face. He appeared as though filled with restless anticipation, looking for any excuse to tease his middle-born brother. He relaxed at Gabriel’s subtle shake of his head.
“It appears Rich takes a new route to work each morning and passes directly by a bakery. Buy something for our cache,” Gabriel said.
Richard nodded, watching Gabriel closely, but Gabriel met his questioning glance with an inscrutable stare.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WHY WOULD A SINGLE OLD LADY eat so many cakes?” Richard whispered in Florence’s ear, causing her to start as she stood in line at the bakery. Her tense shoulders relaxed at the sound of his voice.
“Yes, the large fruitcake,” Florence said, addressing the baker’s assistant. She turned to Richard, unable to hide the relief from her gaze. “She wants a large cake each day in case any of her old friends decides to visit her. When no one calls, even though they have sent vague notes promising a visit, she sends the rest of the cake to the kitchen where the staff enjoys it. She’s quite generous.”
“I should say,” Richard said as he nodded to the assistant, purchasing a loaf of bread and a medium-size cake. After paying, he escorted Florence out of the bakery. “I’m sorry I was late today. My aunt decided I needed another tongue-lashing for fighting with her son yesterday.”
“Your cousin.” Florence raised an eyebrow as she watched him with confusion.
“He may be considered my cousin because he is my mother’s sister’s son, but I don’t consider him, or my aunt, any part of my family. My only family is my brothers.”
“You’re lucky,” Florence murmured. “Even though you’re an orphan, you still have family.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as one, even though my aunt and cousins taunt me with the word often enough. What would you know about orphans?” Richard asked. He studied her for a moment before coming to a stop. “I see. You’re one too.”
Florence watched him with confusion. “But so are you. That’s what I don’t understand. You have no parents, just like me. Why don’t you consider yourself an orphan?”
Richard offered his arm, and she slipped
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