Read Online Stay a Little Longer by Dorothy Garlock - Free Book Online Page B

with someone who appreciates you for what you truly are.
     Run away with me… let us start a new life together far away from this godforsaken place.”
    “Let go of me this instant!”
    Just as Rachel was ready to scream out for help, the door to the rear of the boardinghouse again slammed shut. Her earlier
     hopes were finally answered; her uncle Otis stumbled down the short steps and out into the yard. The dark whiskey bottle hanging
     from his listless hand gave every indication of his condition; he was already three sheets to the wind, his cheeks burning
     as red as his nose. Though he was drunk, Rachel had never been happier to see him in her life.
    Looking over his bony shoulder, Jonathan released his grip on Rachel so quickly she would have thought her blouse had burst
     into flames. He was once again the traveling salesman, his face as innocent as newly fallen snow. Rachel moved away from him,
     gently massaging her arms where he had grabbed her.
    “Just the fella I was lookin’ for,” Otis said gruffly when he’d reached them.
    “Me?” Jonathan asked in surprise. Briefly, a shadow of worry crossed his face, a fear that maybe he had been caught doing
     something he shouldn’t. “Whatever for?”
    “For the four bits you been owin’ for rent on that there room,” the drunken man said before taking yet another swig of his
     liquor. “Seems like every damn time I been up a-poundin’ on your door, there ain’t nobody there. Thought I heard your voice
     out here…”
    Jonathan looked from Rachel to Otis, expecting her to tell him all that had occured, but she held her tongue. She knew that
     he’d understand her silence to be some sort of returned affection, but the truth was much simpler; times for her family were
     tough, and kicking out one of their few boarders would only make them tougher.
    “How… how much did you say I owe you?” Jonathan muttered.
    “Four bits,” Otis repeated.
    “I might have that much on me,” the skinny man said, checking his pockets.
    “You best be knowin’ that this here ain’t no charity house, Mr. Moseley.” The words fell out of Otis’s mouth as slurred as
     if they themselves were drunk. “What with all the work poor ol’ Rachel here is doin’, it just wouldn’t be right of you not
     to pay what you done agreed to. The way some of us is headin’, why, our word’s gonna be all we got left!”
    “Quite right, Mr. Simmons,” Jonathan agreed.
    For a moment, the salesman looked hopeful that Otis would let him bring the money to him later, but the large man didn’t budge,
     fixing a determined yet unfocused stare upon him. “I guess I’ll need to fetch my money purse, then,” Jonathan finally said
     with a huff. His eyes lingered on Rachel for a moment longer before he set off back toward the house.
    As she watched him go, Rachel knew that she would have to keep a close eye on Jonathan Moseley. He obviously had bolder plans
     for her; but if he put his hands on her again, she would be ready.
    In his room on the top floor of the boardinghouse, Jonathan Moseley seethed. All of his many intentions for the day seemed
     to have been going well until that obese drunkard had come out and ruined everything! If it hadn’t been for him, why, he could
     have been down on the lakeshore frolicking with Rachel instead of digging for money he didn’t have.
    “Damn that man and his poor timing!”
    Cluttered and cramped, Jonathan’s room looked as if it had been struck by a tornado and earthquake all rolled into one. Cascading
     piles of books, bundles of brushes, and bottles of hair tonic vied for whatever space could be found on the floor and the
     small table near the window. His lone chair and bed were both covered in clothing; shirts and dirty socks were tossed willy-nilly
     and shoes were underfoot.
    Even if I had any money, I wouldn’t know where to find it!
    Though he portrayed himself as a man of great prospective wealth, the fact was that Jonathan Moseley