strays, and this one had come right in the front door.
She leaned down and sniffed. At least the woman didn’t smell like liquor, so she couldn’t blame her condition on that. She winced inwardly as another memory surfaced—one she tried not to think of often. Her sweet Lorilee had sometimes drunk in secret.
Don’t think about that, old woman. Not now.
Someone had obviously hurt Ms. Dearborn, and she needed some good, old-fashioned TLC. Pearl knew just the person to give it to her.
“Sounds like the storm is blowing over,” Sarah whispered.
“Good. Maybe the power’ll come back on soon. Now let’s see to our patient here. I don’t think anything’s broken.” Even so, she hesitated to move Ms.Dearborn. It would be best if she could stand up on her own. “Can you get up, honey? We’ll move you into the parlor.”
Ms. Dearborn opened her eyes, her expression frantic. “Out of here. Away from…door.”
“You got it, but first you stand up for Pearl.” She put one arm around the woman’s waist, and her shoulder braced under her armpit as she rose. Ms. Dearborn was considerably taller than Pearl, but on the slender side. The lights flickered twice more, then finally stayed on. “Let there be light. Now if only they’ll stay on for good.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a second. Amen.
“Sarah, grab a quilt from the linen closet. She’s shakin’ like a sinner on Judgment Day. But we’re gonna have to put ice on that goose egg bloomin’ on her forehead, and I’m afraid that’s gonna make her shake even more.”
Thunder rattled the house again. “After we get her settled, you’d best check on your brother and sister. Make sure the storm didn’t scare the bejeebers outta them.”
Once they had the woman settled on the sofa with a quilt wrapped around her and a pouch of frozen peas on her forehead, she looked half-alive again. The color returned to her cheeks, that desperate hunted expression disappeared from her eyes, and her shivering slowed.
Assured that Mark and Grace had—amazingly—slept through the raging storm, Pearl sent Sarah to the kitchen again, this time for hot cocoa to counteract the chill from the frozen peas.
“What brings you back out here at this hour, Ms. Dearborn?” If the woman wasn’t injured, Pearl wouldbe demanding an answer to her questions. The investigator wasn’t supposed to return until tomorrow morning. “And in this god-awful weather?”
“Well…” The woman glanced toward the doorway where Sarah had gone. “I was nearby when the storm broke, and I think—”
“I called her,” Sarah announced as she returned. She placed a tray bearing cups of steaming cocoa with floating marshmallows on the coffee table.
“Oh. I see.” Pearl knew full well how Ty felt about the children being touched by this investigation. “You put Ms. Dearborn in a nasty spot, girl.” Not just the storm, but your daddy’s temper, too.
“I—I’m sorry.” Sarah handed a cup of cocoa to the investigator.
“I’m a big girl.” No longer trembling, Ms. Dearborn took a long drink. “Mmm. Besides, anyone who brings me chocolate this rich receives instant forgiveness.”
Pearl chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth? Old family recipe, passed down from Lorilee’s great-granny.” She reached for a cup. “Creole from New Orleans, she was.”
“So Lorilee’s family wasn’t from here originally?” The investigator watched them over the rim of her cup as she took another sip.
“Oh, her daddy’s family founded Brubaker, but her momma’s side came from Louisiana.”
Pearl turned her attention to Sarah, who kept shooting nervous glances at the grandfather clock against the far wall. “Why’d you call Ms. Dearborn out in this storm tonight, Sarah?”
“I…”
“Really, I was already out,” Ms. Dearborn said.
“But Sarah must’ve had a reason for callin’ you,” Pearl said. “And she knows her daddy’s feelings on the subject. So…why?”
The clock’s
She leaned down and sniffed. At least the woman didn’t smell like liquor, so she couldn’t blame her condition on that. She winced inwardly as another memory surfaced—one she tried not to think of often. Her sweet Lorilee had sometimes drunk in secret.
Don’t think about that, old woman. Not now.
Someone had obviously hurt Ms. Dearborn, and she needed some good, old-fashioned TLC. Pearl knew just the person to give it to her.
“Sounds like the storm is blowing over,” Sarah whispered.
“Good. Maybe the power’ll come back on soon. Now let’s see to our patient here. I don’t think anything’s broken.” Even so, she hesitated to move Ms.Dearborn. It would be best if she could stand up on her own. “Can you get up, honey? We’ll move you into the parlor.”
Ms. Dearborn opened her eyes, her expression frantic. “Out of here. Away from…door.”
“You got it, but first you stand up for Pearl.” She put one arm around the woman’s waist, and her shoulder braced under her armpit as she rose. Ms. Dearborn was considerably taller than Pearl, but on the slender side. The lights flickered twice more, then finally stayed on. “Let there be light. Now if only they’ll stay on for good.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a second. Amen.
“Sarah, grab a quilt from the linen closet. She’s shakin’ like a sinner on Judgment Day. But we’re gonna have to put ice on that goose egg bloomin’ on her forehead, and I’m afraid that’s gonna make her shake even more.”
Thunder rattled the house again. “After we get her settled, you’d best check on your brother and sister. Make sure the storm didn’t scare the bejeebers outta them.”
Once they had the woman settled on the sofa with a quilt wrapped around her and a pouch of frozen peas on her forehead, she looked half-alive again. The color returned to her cheeks, that desperate hunted expression disappeared from her eyes, and her shivering slowed.
Assured that Mark and Grace had—amazingly—slept through the raging storm, Pearl sent Sarah to the kitchen again, this time for hot cocoa to counteract the chill from the frozen peas.
“What brings you back out here at this hour, Ms. Dearborn?” If the woman wasn’t injured, Pearl wouldbe demanding an answer to her questions. The investigator wasn’t supposed to return until tomorrow morning. “And in this god-awful weather?”
“Well…” The woman glanced toward the doorway where Sarah had gone. “I was nearby when the storm broke, and I think—”
“I called her,” Sarah announced as she returned. She placed a tray bearing cups of steaming cocoa with floating marshmallows on the coffee table.
“Oh. I see.” Pearl knew full well how Ty felt about the children being touched by this investigation. “You put Ms. Dearborn in a nasty spot, girl.” Not just the storm, but your daddy’s temper, too.
“I—I’m sorry.” Sarah handed a cup of cocoa to the investigator.
“I’m a big girl.” No longer trembling, Ms. Dearborn took a long drink. “Mmm. Besides, anyone who brings me chocolate this rich receives instant forgiveness.”
Pearl chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth? Old family recipe, passed down from Lorilee’s great-granny.” She reached for a cup. “Creole from New Orleans, she was.”
“So Lorilee’s family wasn’t from here originally?” The investigator watched them over the rim of her cup as she took another sip.
“Oh, her daddy’s family founded Brubaker, but her momma’s side came from Louisiana.”
Pearl turned her attention to Sarah, who kept shooting nervous glances at the grandfather clock against the far wall. “Why’d you call Ms. Dearborn out in this storm tonight, Sarah?”
“I…”
“Really, I was already out,” Ms. Dearborn said.
“But Sarah must’ve had a reason for callin’ you,” Pearl said. “And she knows her daddy’s feelings on the subject. So…why?”
The clock’s
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