peace prayer always brought her. But she couldn’t forget the way Mary had looked at her just now. She had the feeling that whatever the “something else” was, it wouldn’t be good news for her. She climbed into bed and extinguished the light.
THREE
“Could you finish these for me, Carrie?” Mary set the rolling pin aside and brushed flour from her fingers. “I haven’t felt well all morning.”
In the week since the wedding Mary had come up with a thousand excuses rather than help with chores. So far, making biscuits was her only contribution. Now apparently the poor dear wasn’t even up to rolling out dough for their midday meal.
Carrie bit back a refusal. Last Sunday’s sermon had been about serving others, being the hands and feet of Christ. How could she refuse to follow his perfect example?
“In a minute.” She shifted the heavy bucket of water she’d just drawn from the pump and headed for the stove.
“Mama, look what we found.” Caleb yanked the door open and rushed inside. “Ain’t he a beauty?”
Carrie dropped the bucket and let out a loud scream. Water poured over her shoes and soaked the hem of her skirt. “Get that snake out of my house this instant.”
“For mercy’s sake, calm down, Carrie,” Mary said. “It’s only a common garden snake. It’s harmless. I figured a farm girl like you would know that.”
“I don’t care. I want it out. Now.”
Caleb stood there, letting the lime-green snake wind through his fingers. He turned his freckled nose up at Carrie. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Henry came in with a load of wood for the cook stove, Joseph at his heels. “Mary, honey? What’s all the commotion? What’s going on here?”
“Your sister had a screaming fit because Caleb brought in a little-bitty snake.” Mary set the half-empty pan of biscuits in the oven and slammed the door. “I realize she hasn’t spent much time around little boys, but honestly, she simply must adjust. She’s making my children fearful. I won’t have it.”
Henry sighed and dumped the wood into the box. “Just give her some time. This is a big change for all of us.”
“Excuse me, Henry,” Carrie said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking about me as if I’m feebleminded or not even in the room.”
“Now, Carrie, don’t get your dander up.” He motioned for Caleb to take the snake outside. “I’m simply trying to make peace in the family.”
“We’re not a family.”
Henry picked up her overturned water bucket and set it on the table. “You know that isn’t so.”
“A family takes care of each other. Accommodates each other. But the only one who has been doing any accommodating around here is me.” Carrie turned away and busied herself with setting out their glasses.
Mary spun around, her calico skirt swirling, and took a stack of plates from the shelf beside the sink. She plopped them onto the table, fetched a pot of coffee from the stove, and tossed a bowl of diced potatoes into the skillet. “Don’t bother yourself about these potatoes, Carrie. I’ll accommodate you and fix them myself.”
Henry cleared his throat. “You’ll never guess who showed up at the mill yesterday.” He sat down at the table, poured himself a cup of coffee, and opened the Knoxville newspaper that had arrived at the post office on Thursday. “Wyatt Caldwell stopped by. I think he misses the mill, despite loving his ranch down in Texas.”
“Really.” Mary salted the potatoes and flipped them with her spatula. Steam wafted through the room. “Was his fancy stuck-up wife with him?”
Carrie bristled. Mary Stanhope found some reason to dislike everyone. “If you think Ada is stuck-up, then you don’t know her at all.”
Through the kitchen window, she watched bright-blue morning glories trailing along the backyard trellis Henry had made for her birthday last year. Caleb and Joseph, bareheaded and shoeless, were chasing the chickens around the yard. “Ada