Read Online Welcome to Harmony by Jodi Thomas - Free Book Online
Authors: Jodi Thomas
Tags: Contemporary
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believe in the lie.
Reagan didn’t look at the sheriff as they drove back to his place. McAllen was saying all the things she figured a sheriff would say. Reagan tried to think of where she could go next. Oklahoma City wasn’t an option, and when Jeremiah told the sheriff she wasn’t his niece, staying here wouldn’t be possible, either. Reagan knew that clinging to the hope he’d go along with her lie now was about as likely as trying to convince herself he liked having her around.
She had two dollars in her pocket and nowhere to go from here.
They got to the farm so fast she swore they must have teleported. Reagan kept her head down as she followed the sheriff up the steps where Jeremiah and the fire chief who’d given her a ride out last week were waiting. There was no telling if Truman was furious. He looked angry on good days.
Hank Matheson nodded at her in greeting, but didn’t speak as Reagan passed him and faced the old man. If Hank planned to complain about her not returning his flashlight, he’d have to get in line. A wholesale load of trouble was already headed her direction.
“I’d like to talk to my niece alone.” Jeremiah looked over Reagan’s head at the sheriff and Hank. “You two can take the cart and go see how the apple trees are doing. Hank, I expect your aunt Pat will want some this year as always. I put in a gate in the fence between your land and mine. She’s getting too old to climb over the fence and check on the trees.” He waved them on with one bony hand. “You tell her I’m taking good care, and both of you stay out of the mud where I’m irrigating.”
Reagan fought down an unexpected smile. Jeremiah was treating the sheriff and the fire chief like they were ten years old.
Jeremiah motioned her into the house as the cart pulled away toward the apple trees. For a second she thought about calling them back, but something inside her knew she had to face the old man alone. She owed him that much. He had a right to have his say after what she’d done.
He went to the first room to the left of the front door. It looked like an old parlor Reagan had seen once in a movie set. She’d never set foot in it and, from the layer of dust, she guessed he hadn’t either in years.
He ordered her to open the shutters. “We got some things to straighten out, girl. We might as well do it in the light.”
“Yes, sir,” Reagan said, giving him a mock salute. If she was going to get kicked out, she’d go her own way.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he said as he pulled the cover off an old rolltop desk. “We ain’t got time.”
He sat in an office swivel chair while Reagan fought with the shutters for several minutes. When the room finally flooded with sunlight, she took a seat on the nearest window bench and waited. About the time she decided he must have slipped into a coma, Jeremiah reached for something.
Reagan stared as he retrieved a roll of bills tied with a rubber band from one of the pigeonhole drawers.
He looked up at her and, for the first time, she saw sadness in his eyes. The kind of sadness that made her heart hurt to look at it. She dropped the attitude and leaned closer, recognizing grief so deep he couldn’t speak of it.
No word she could have said would have helped.
Finally, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. The mask of anger returned to all of his face except his eyes. “I have no desire to go to town and have folks hugging on me just because Beverly died. It won’t bring her back. She was a silly woman who should have stayed here with her family.”
“She wasn’t silly,” Reagan corrected. “I think she just liked her privacy.”
He glared at her. “So you did know her. That much at least isn’t a lie.”
“I cleaned her room at the nursing home where I worked after school and read the paper to her. Sometimes I even read her letters to her. We’d talk about Harmony.”
“She tell you why she left?”
Reagan shook her head. Miss
Reagan didn’t look at the sheriff as they drove back to his place. McAllen was saying all the things she figured a sheriff would say. Reagan tried to think of where she could go next. Oklahoma City wasn’t an option, and when Jeremiah told the sheriff she wasn’t his niece, staying here wouldn’t be possible, either. Reagan knew that clinging to the hope he’d go along with her lie now was about as likely as trying to convince herself he liked having her around.
She had two dollars in her pocket and nowhere to go from here.
They got to the farm so fast she swore they must have teleported. Reagan kept her head down as she followed the sheriff up the steps where Jeremiah and the fire chief who’d given her a ride out last week were waiting. There was no telling if Truman was furious. He looked angry on good days.
Hank Matheson nodded at her in greeting, but didn’t speak as Reagan passed him and faced the old man. If Hank planned to complain about her not returning his flashlight, he’d have to get in line. A wholesale load of trouble was already headed her direction.
“I’d like to talk to my niece alone.” Jeremiah looked over Reagan’s head at the sheriff and Hank. “You two can take the cart and go see how the apple trees are doing. Hank, I expect your aunt Pat will want some this year as always. I put in a gate in the fence between your land and mine. She’s getting too old to climb over the fence and check on the trees.” He waved them on with one bony hand. “You tell her I’m taking good care, and both of you stay out of the mud where I’m irrigating.”
Reagan fought down an unexpected smile. Jeremiah was treating the sheriff and the fire chief like they were ten years old.
Jeremiah motioned her into the house as the cart pulled away toward the apple trees. For a second she thought about calling them back, but something inside her knew she had to face the old man alone. She owed him that much. He had a right to have his say after what she’d done.
He went to the first room to the left of the front door. It looked like an old parlor Reagan had seen once in a movie set. She’d never set foot in it and, from the layer of dust, she guessed he hadn’t either in years.
He ordered her to open the shutters. “We got some things to straighten out, girl. We might as well do it in the light.”
“Yes, sir,” Reagan said, giving him a mock salute. If she was going to get kicked out, she’d go her own way.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he said as he pulled the cover off an old rolltop desk. “We ain’t got time.”
He sat in an office swivel chair while Reagan fought with the shutters for several minutes. When the room finally flooded with sunlight, she took a seat on the nearest window bench and waited. About the time she decided he must have slipped into a coma, Jeremiah reached for something.
Reagan stared as he retrieved a roll of bills tied with a rubber band from one of the pigeonhole drawers.
He looked up at her and, for the first time, she saw sadness in his eyes. The kind of sadness that made her heart hurt to look at it. She dropped the attitude and leaned closer, recognizing grief so deep he couldn’t speak of it.
No word she could have said would have helped.
Finally, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. The mask of anger returned to all of his face except his eyes. “I have no desire to go to town and have folks hugging on me just because Beverly died. It won’t bring her back. She was a silly woman who should have stayed here with her family.”
“She wasn’t silly,” Reagan corrected. “I think she just liked her privacy.”
He glared at her. “So you did know her. That much at least isn’t a lie.”
“I cleaned her room at the nursing home where I worked after school and read the paper to her. Sometimes I even read her letters to her. We’d talk about Harmony.”
“She tell you why she left?”
Reagan shook her head. Miss
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