Read Online The Heavenly Fugitive by Gilbert Morris - Free Book Online Page B

traces of her youthful beauty. Her skin was not as smooth as it used to be, but the large dark eyes still dominated her face. She took the kisses of her grandchildren and then said briskly, “Sit down now. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing.”
    There was a peace about her grandmother that amazed Amelia. She had seen firsthand the love that this woman had for her husband, Mark. If ever two people had beeninextricably bound together, it was Lola and Mark Winslow. Amelia had seen how they could not get close without touching each other, and she had also seen how Lola’s eyes were always fondly fixed on him whenever Mark was in view. After he had died, Amelia had expected her grandmother to be marked by grief, but there remained a sweet serenity about Lola in the midst of her loss.
    I hope someday I can be like her, Amelia thought, and then she heard her mother saying, “Now, Lola, let me get our children settled in first. Then you can have all the talk you want.”
    “All right, but don’t take long. I get to see you so seldom.” Lola smiled.
    “We’ll hurry, Grandmother,” Phil said. “I’ll even let you beat me at a game of blackjack.”
    “You never beat me at blackjack in your life, Phillip,” Lola smiled, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think we’ll play for money this time. You need to be humbled.”
    Phil laughed and moved across the room to lean down and kiss his grandmother on the cheek. “You’re right about that, but I’d rather lose to you than to anyone else I know.”
    “Come along, Amelia, Phillip,” Dorothy said. “We’ll get you settled in. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
    ****
    Later in the day, while Lola was napping, Amelia put on some boots and a heavy fur coat of her grandmother’s and went out to enjoy the crisp day. Amelia’s father and mother were talking with Phil, and Amelia felt a twinge of envy. They’re so proud of Phil. He’s doing so well at college and work. He can do anything! That thought brought another—a sense of shame that she had failed her parents. Although she did not often let it show, there was a sensitive side to Amelia that was softer, gentler, and more easily hurt than most people knew. She kept this carefully hidden, glossed over withan artificial hardness. Phil knew this tender side of her, but even her parents did not discern it as readily.
    Trying to dismiss her feelings, she wandered out onto the estate—some fifty acres, most of them covered by untouched first-growth timber. She loved being alone in the thick woods. The big trees towered over her now, their limbs rounded with snow. Her feet made no sound as she broke through the fluffy carpet that lay even underneath the trees. The snow fell gently on her shoulders and from time to time she would hear a clump as a dollop of snow fell from a branch. She liked being out alone, although it was different from the aloneness of her apartment. Here there was life. Winter birds called out from the treetops, and furry animals burrowed through the snow looking for food. She even spotted a six-point buck, which seeing her, leaped away, startled, in the most graceful of flights, making almost no sound on the carpet of snow.
    “Go on! I wouldn’t shoot you if I could. You’re too beautiful for that!” Amelia called out. Her voice disturbed the still air around her, and she turned and walked back toward the house. She went in the back door and stamped the snow off her feet. Stepping into the warmth of the kitchen, she saw her grandmother was up now, wearing a white apron and working alongside their cook. Cora had been with the family for years. She was a huge woman, tall and strong, not fat but just heavy in the way of some women. The cook shook her head as she said, “You gonna freeze yoself and get a pneumonia out there, Miss Amelia.”
    “No I won’t, Cora.” Amelia laughed. She took off the fur coat and hung it carefully on a peg beside the door. “That’s a beautiful