Read Online The Search for Belle Prater by Ruth White - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruth White
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nephew Joseph.’ And I mailed it and the watch to y’all at Christmas, along with the letter.”
Joseph’s head shot up. “What letter?”
“There was a letter to you and Ethan from your daddy in that package. If your mama didn’t give it to you, well, I can’t fault her for that, either.”
“What did the letter say?”
“He asked your forgiveness and asked if he could come and see you.”
“But he never got an answer, did he?” Joseph said.
“No,” Miz Lincoln said sadly. “And it was just as well. He couldn’t stay clean. Gambling is a powerful addiction. He didn’t last six months.”
“So when I came to your door,” Joseph said, “did you know me by the coat?”
“Yes, I did. The minute I saw that coat, I said a silent prayer, ‘Thank you, God, for bringing this boy to me.’ How did you get here?”
“Came on a bus,” Joseph said.
“Did you run away from home?”
“Not really,” Joseph said.
“Then your mother knows where you are?”
It was then that I saw in Joseph’s dark eyes the grief that he had so carefully concealed from us until this moment.
“Mama died the last of October,” he said in a quivering voice.
I felt a hot stinging behind my own eyelids.
“Oh, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Joseph,” said Miz Lincoln as she touched his arm. “How did she die?”
“Heart attack.”
“Tell me about it.”
Joseph told his story with lots of feeling, specially
when he came to the part where Ethan dumped him at the home of a man he hardly knew.
“Your father first, then Ethan abandoned you, too,” his aunt said softly.
“Ethan and me, we coulda made it together,” Joseph said. “But I couldn’t make it by myself.”
“Course not,” Miz Lincoln said sympathetically. “But you and me, Joseph? I’m sure we’ll do just fine.”
For a minute there was no sound except for the crackling of wood in the fire and the ticking of a miniature grandfather clock on the mantel. The rain had slowed.
“I don’t want to be a burden to you, Aunt Carlotta,” Joseph said.
“A burden?” his aunt said with a funny, strangled sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “My boy, you couldn’t be a burden to me if you worked at it. Don’t you know the years I spent caring for your father were my happiest? Having you here will be like having him with me again. It will give my life new meaning. Besides, I have a bedroom all ready for you.”
“A bedroom?” Joseph said. “For me?”
“Yes, I had it papered with cowboys and Indians for you and Ethan. I was hoping you two would come looking for your daddy or me someday. Now you, at least, are here to stay.”
Joseph glanced around the living room. I wondered
what he thought of his new home. Was he thinking he was safe at last? Was he imagining what it would be like to live here, and maybe see his father someday?
“I’m sure Reeve will contact me eventually, Joseph,” Miz Lincoln said, “and we can tell him you’re here. You can decide if you want to see him or not. Whatever you decide, you will always have a home with me.”
Woodrow went to the window and looked out. The rain was still pouring down. He glanced at his watch, then resettled himself beside me in front of the fire. I was relieved he did not suggest going out into the weather again.
Miz Lincoln invited us to have an early supper with her, and presently we found ourselves seated around her table, enjoying a pot of navy beans, with cole slaw, corn bread, and butter. Woodrow, Cassie, and I made pure tee pigs of ourselves, but I noticed that Joseph merely picked at his food. I imagined he had too much emotion in him to taste anything proper. He didn’t say much at all, but he hung on to every word his aunt said.
“So why did you kids come into Bluefield today?” Miz Lincoln finally turned her attention to me and Woodrow and Cassie.
Woodrow began his story once more. As we sat around the table listening to my cousin again recalling the
Joseph’s head shot up. “What letter?”
“There was a letter to you and Ethan from your daddy in that package. If your mama didn’t give it to you, well, I can’t fault her for that, either.”
“What did the letter say?”
“He asked your forgiveness and asked if he could come and see you.”
“But he never got an answer, did he?” Joseph said.
“No,” Miz Lincoln said sadly. “And it was just as well. He couldn’t stay clean. Gambling is a powerful addiction. He didn’t last six months.”
“So when I came to your door,” Joseph said, “did you know me by the coat?”
“Yes, I did. The minute I saw that coat, I said a silent prayer, ‘Thank you, God, for bringing this boy to me.’ How did you get here?”
“Came on a bus,” Joseph said.
“Did you run away from home?”
“Not really,” Joseph said.
“Then your mother knows where you are?”
It was then that I saw in Joseph’s dark eyes the grief that he had so carefully concealed from us until this moment.
“Mama died the last of October,” he said in a quivering voice.
I felt a hot stinging behind my own eyelids.
“Oh, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Joseph,” said Miz Lincoln as she touched his arm. “How did she die?”
“Heart attack.”
“Tell me about it.”
Joseph told his story with lots of feeling, specially
when he came to the part where Ethan dumped him at the home of a man he hardly knew.
“Your father first, then Ethan abandoned you, too,” his aunt said softly.
“Ethan and me, we coulda made it together,” Joseph said. “But I couldn’t make it by myself.”
“Course not,” Miz Lincoln said sympathetically. “But you and me, Joseph? I’m sure we’ll do just fine.”
For a minute there was no sound except for the crackling of wood in the fire and the ticking of a miniature grandfather clock on the mantel. The rain had slowed.
“I don’t want to be a burden to you, Aunt Carlotta,” Joseph said.
“A burden?” his aunt said with a funny, strangled sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “My boy, you couldn’t be a burden to me if you worked at it. Don’t you know the years I spent caring for your father were my happiest? Having you here will be like having him with me again. It will give my life new meaning. Besides, I have a bedroom all ready for you.”
“A bedroom?” Joseph said. “For me?”
“Yes, I had it papered with cowboys and Indians for you and Ethan. I was hoping you two would come looking for your daddy or me someday. Now you, at least, are here to stay.”
Joseph glanced around the living room. I wondered
what he thought of his new home. Was he thinking he was safe at last? Was he imagining what it would be like to live here, and maybe see his father someday?
“I’m sure Reeve will contact me eventually, Joseph,” Miz Lincoln said, “and we can tell him you’re here. You can decide if you want to see him or not. Whatever you decide, you will always have a home with me.”
Woodrow went to the window and looked out. The rain was still pouring down. He glanced at his watch, then resettled himself beside me in front of the fire. I was relieved he did not suggest going out into the weather again.
Miz Lincoln invited us to have an early supper with her, and presently we found ourselves seated around her table, enjoying a pot of navy beans, with cole slaw, corn bread, and butter. Woodrow, Cassie, and I made pure tee pigs of ourselves, but I noticed that Joseph merely picked at his food. I imagined he had too much emotion in him to taste anything proper. He didn’t say much at all, but he hung on to every word his aunt said.
“So why did you kids come into Bluefield today?” Miz Lincoln finally turned her attention to me and Woodrow and Cassie.
Woodrow began his story once more. As we sat around the table listening to my cousin again recalling the
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