Of Needles and Haystacks by Ann Fryer (interesting novels to read .TXT) 📗

and wouldn’t be around to receive me. I am staying at a hotel, alone, since Mrs. Smith is also away. I might get around to Mrs. Dearberg, but she will ask too many questions. Frankly, I am glad to be here alone.

Before leaving, Chess and Philip tried their best to talk me out of my plans. I emphatically refused their insistence. I do believe Mrs. MacDonald has a more authentic view of my personhood now. She might not, perhaps, like to have so stubborn a daughter-in-law.

I hope to make it to the bank in the morning and have a chat with Father’s closest associate. Perhaps he’d help me go through Father’s box and understand the details. Mr. Bleu still kept to himself on the matter. Still, I wanted to know exactly how much Father paid out and then bury the box beneath some of his old things. Maybe I’d even make a bonfire of the papers. My first night in the cottage, I’d toss the slips of paper right into my stove, and set the tea kettle to heat by its flame.

My hand is frightfully uncomfortable, though healing. The doctor says Mr. Bleu knew what he was doing and the stitches may come out before I travel back to Cedar Gate. From there, I’d go directly to the cottage. My new home.

I wonder how he fares? Mr. Bleu... Silly thoughts, I’ve only been out of town for a few days, but I can’t forget the way he patched me up, setting aside his own discomfort for mine. Clearly he cares. Cradling my hand as though sacred...

My Uncle is foolish to toss his stalwart friendship aside.

Am I foolish to think of him so often?

Father’s friend was also away on summer holiday, such was my fate. I tried to get some sort of assistance, but the offices had enough to do without assisting their co-worker’s daughter. Was I in financial trouble? Far from it. All papers appear to be in order as they were a few months ago. I am not to worry. A kindly hand pat and I was ushered to the door.

Leaving the countryside for a few days had seemed such a pleasant idea! A step back from my warring feelings with regard to most of my acquaintances in Kentucky. Except Reverend Meade and his wife. Their special lot in life is to be agreeable and understanding to everyone and never to take sides, though they treat me with equal parts remorse and helplessness. What else can they do? I know very well it is not their special duty to see me settled. It was my choice to reject Uncle’s home and Cedar Gate.

I went to see Mrs. Dearberg after all. She welcomed me and pronounced that I should live with her. On the positive side, there are not as many cats as before. A few left and returned with mewling litters of their own. Mrs. Dearberg, her wide frame and rosy cheeks drooped in bewilderment when she recalled how the neighbors had complained and sent the law to her doorstep. They carried off most of her dear ones. Left her with five, and a small litter. Perhaps the law had been overly kind. The smell would have been unbearable if the windows had not been thrown open.

I couldn’t resist. She gave me one, for the cottage. I accepted the tiny orange-striped thing. Change this city kitten into a country creature as I have become, strange as it seems. I hadn’t noticed the quiet I’d enjoyed until coming back here. All rattle and shouts, this place.

The kitten hid beneath my bed. I shall leave her playing until she is ready to face the ride home. Home...

JAMES WATCHED FOR THE train, anxious every moment since Dorothy left. That girl had absolutely tangled his brain. What was he to do? Appear a suitor, waiting for her at the station?  Or appeal to friends for help? He chose the latter and loitered around the back of the station, scuffing his feet.

Charles and Kate Birch had been all too eager to help. They’d noticed her friendless state. “Do you really think she wants to see us?” Charles said. “She seemed terribly apprehensive of our family connections—the way things are.”

“You aren’t the ones being unreasonable about that tiny parcel of land, are you?”

Charles shook his head. “Heavens, no. Don’t know what Grannie would do with it. We’ve got enough land between us cousins.”

Kate piped up. “I’m glad she’s putting that old rat trap in order, but are you sure? Does she really want to see us?”

James nodded firmly. “She may not realize she can trust you yet, but she does need friends. Family life isn’t too good right now, you could say.”

“We heard.” Charles glanced at his sister. “Can’t say we blame her for what she’s done.”

Well, that fact still galled him. James inhaled fresh air.

“We’ll be there. Charles’ll bring one of the pups. A welcome home present.”

James smiled. A dog. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Perfect.”

James grabbed a ham sandwich from the boarding house and stood munching, waiting for the locomotive’s steam to announce her arrival.

Kate and Charles sat on the bench. He held the rope tight, keeping the prancing pup safe from the tracks, Kate held a modest wild-flower bouquet. A kinder pair of siblings he’d never met. He hoped Dorothy would warm up to them.

Too bad Ernest hadn’t come.

The train whistled its imminent arrival, moving steadily in with a loud, lurching halt.

The subsequent scene played out over and over in his mind as he later tried to get some sleep.

Dorothy appeared, flushed from the heat, and descended amid hot steam. Satchel in hand and basket over her arm, she stepped onto the boardwalk looking, no doubt for the MacDonald’s familiar wagon. It wouldn’t be there. He’d taken care of that.

Her gaze swept right to left, then stopped in surprise when Kate and Charles stepped forward. A small smile lit her face. In response, Charles and Kate’s welcome grins grew