Read Online The Devil You Know by Jo Goodman - Free Book Online Page B

the first word and the last. All in all, a satisfactory encounter.
    *   *   *
    Israel had alternated once between lukewarm white willow tea and cold oatmeal and was set to take his second sip of tea when he remembered that Annalea was still waiting outside. She had been quiet so he considered there was at least some chance that she had wandered off to find her dog. The hope that this was true decided him in favor of calling for her, although he hedged his bet by not calling very loudly.
    He was not inclined to favor children, although he had nothing specific against them. True, they tended to be sticky and inquisitive and unruly and more often than not they got underfoot, but any of those traits, whether alone or in combination, was not enough to put him off them entirely. His awareness of his unsuitability as a parent did that. It made him a careful partner in bed, even with women who assured him that they were past their childbearing years.
    He wondered again what he might have done in Jupiter, if indeed he had been there. Bedded the mayor’s wife? The preacher’s daughter? The sheriff’s niece? Had he been so foolish or desperate or both that he had abandoned precaution for a tumble?
    He was following this line of reasoning when Annalea burst in the door, throwing it open so wide that it slammed against the wall. That thud brought his head up and effectively put a period to his thoughts.
    She was wearing an apple green gingham dress with a full apron stamped with tiny blue flowers. Those flowers fairly danced until she ground to a halt in front of him. Without preamble, she said, “What did you do with it?”
    It took him a moment to realize she was asking about the piss pot. “No,” he said firmly. “Leave it.”
    She took her hands out of her deep apron pockets and set them akimbo. Her chin came up in a manner he was beginning to think was a family trait.
    The pot was under the foot of his bunk, and Israel realized he must have slanted his eyes in that direction because she was on it like a beggar on a penny. She had it halfway to the door before he thought of anything to say, and by that time it hardly seemed worth saying. In short order, she returned it empty, pushed it under the bunk, and joined him at the table. She rested her elbows on top and her chin in her palms and regarded him openly.
    â€œDon’t you have chores to do?” he asked, resuming his meal.
    â€œDone. Or mostly done. I have things to do when you finish your breakfast. I already made my bed, washed the morning dishes, blackened the stove, swept the kitchen and front room, collected eggs and fed the chickens, and took out your pot. Now I’m keeping you company.”
    â€œThat’s a chore?”
    â€œToday it is.”
    â€œHmm.” He swallowed a spoonful of congealed oatmeal made slightly more palatable by the dollop of strawberry preserves that had been stirred into it. “I already guessed you blackened something this morning. I thought it might have been your shoes, but they could still use a good polishing.”
    Annalea pressed her lips together, thinking. “Do I have a smut on my nose?”
    â€œThose are freckles. You have a smut on your cheek.” He shook his head when she knuckled her right cheek. “Other one. You got it.”
    â€œYou have the kind of smuts that don’t come off when you rub them.”
    â€œI’m sure. Do you suppose you can find a mirror for me? I’d like to look.”
    â€œNot while you’re eating.”
    â€œThat bad?”
    â€œWorse.”
    He nodded. “It feels worse.”
    â€œI am supposed to ask about your knee.”
    Israel flexed it under the table. It hurt, but he had beenable to put weight on it when he answered nature’s call and when he dressed. The clothes that had been left for him were well-worn but clean, and they fit reasonably well. The faded chambray shirt was loose and