After the Frost by Megan Chance Read Free Book Online Page B

Paul nodded. "Spent the last two weeks workin' on that damn sheep's weight. You know old John Stillwell's got a Merino ram himself. Bought it at auction over in Clinton County last week . . ."
    Paul went on talking, a slow, heavy cadence that hummed in Rand's ears even though he no longer really listened. He nodded at the appropriate times, made noises of agreement, but he didn't hear what Paul was saying. He was too aware of Belle sitting silently across from him, and of Lillian's cold, stiff silence. Too aware of the fact that they had to spend at least another hour with the Millers before they could gracefully leave.
    "Oh, Paul, stop talkin' about that silly ram." Stella bustled back into the room, a steaming pot of coffee in her hands. "Not when Belle was just tellin' us what she's been doin'."
    God, the woman was relentless. Rand sat up, opened his mouth to say something, anything to head her off, but Belle beat him to it.
    "There's really nothin' to tell." She smiled. She waited while Stella poured coffee and then she reached for the sugar bowl. "I'm just glad to be back."
    Paul chuckled. "You can't ever get home outta your blood, I guess. You know, I remember when you and Cort and Rand here used to run wild on the Hocking." He poured a heavy stream of yellow cream into his coffee. "Used to scare old Henry to death."
    Rand felt a chill clear into his bones. He grabbed for his coffee, stunned to see that his fingers were shaking.
    "Yep." Paul took a sip from his cup. "You know, Stella used to say that if Rand jumped in the river and drowned hisself, Belle'd be right behind him. Ain't that right, honey?"
    Stella nodded. She pulled two pies toward her and sliced a knife into one of them. "I surely did say that. Custard or gooseberry, Rand?"
    His voice felt forced from his throat. "Gooseberry."
    "You two were never apart, that's for sure. We used to laugh at it—why, I remember Belle just sittin' on the cracker barrel at the store, waitin' for Rand to be done workin'. 'Course, that was before you went to Cleveland, Rand. For a while after that it was mostly Cort gettin' Belle outta all those scrapes." Paul shook his head. "That brother of yours was a wild one. Sad thing, the way he died."
    Rand's stomach tightened painfully. Stella handed him a piece of pie, and he could only stare helplessly at his plate, at the sticky, amber-colored filling leaking from the crust. "That was a long time ago."
    "Ummm, not so long," Stella said. "But then, I guess it seems longer, it bein' so many years since Belle was home. It must seem like ages to you, Belle—especially when you see how much your niece has grown."
    Rand's head jerked up just in time to see the surprise in Belle's face.
    "Niece?"
    "Why, yes. Sarah's just sproutin' up like a weed." Stella kept cutting the pie.
    "Sarah." Belle spoke the word on a breath of air, and her brown eyes sparkled dangerously. Rand felt her gaze on him, felt a surge of discomfort at the quick, sarcastic lift of her brow. She was going to say something, he knew it, something to tear apart the careful lie he and Lillian had spent years building and nurturing. One careless word would undo it all, and he felt helpless to stop it, felt the wave crashing over him even as she opened her mouth to speak—
    He was on his feet before he knew it, so fast, the table jiggled at his movement. Dead silence fell. They all looked at him curiously.
    "I just remembered—something—I—uh—think I left it in the wagon," he muttered. He motioned abruptly to the door. "Belle, come on out and help me."
    "I'll help you, Rand." Paul started to his feet. "Just let me get my boots on—"
    "No, Paul, I need Belle for this." Rand tried to smile, but the effort was a dismal failure. "We'll be right back."
    She sat there, staring at him, and he saw the stubborn light come into her eyes. She was going to refuse and embarrass him in the bargain, he knew it, and Rand felt the urge to go over and pull her bodily from the chair.