Bent Road by Lori Roy Read Free Book Online

you so early, Ruth. I’ll see myself out.”
    Ruth tightened her robe. “No bother.”
    “One more quick question.” Floyd slapped his beige hat against his left thigh a few times. “You say you were busy at your brother’s all afternoon.”
    Ruth nodded, swallowed and continued to watch the bedroom door.
    “And you folks came home around five o’clock?”
    Again, Ruth nodded.
    “Didn’t stay for supper?”
    “Arthur’s family had such a long day and Mother made a late lunch. Didn’t bother with eating again. Left them alone to a quiet evening.”
    “So, you and Ray were home here all night?”
    Behind Floyd, the bedroom door opened.
    Floyd turned. “Morning, Ray,” he said. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
    Ray ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it off his face. “First thing home, ate some of Ruth’s meat loaf,” he said. Both eyes, even the gray overcast one, settled directly on Floyd. “Leftover pie for dessert.”
    “She does make a fine pie,” Floyd said and at the same time studied Ruth as if waiting for her to confirm Ray’s story.
    Ruth cleared her throat and nodded again. “Pie wasn’t so nice. Strawberries were tart.”
    Lowering her eyes to avoid Floyd’s stare, Ruth tried to remember the last time she had seen little Julianne. Church, probably. Most likely, last Sunday. Julianne, with silky blond hair that hung to her waist, always wore a pink dress to services. She’d wear it until she outgrew it or until the weather turned too cold.
    “Guess you heard, then,” Floyd said because it seemed that Ray had listened to their conversation. “You know the girl? Know what she looks like?”
    “Sure do,” Ray said, nodding once.
    “Good enough.” Floyd pulled on his hat. “If you don’t mind, give things a good going over. I suspect someone’ll show up with her at church this morning. Probably found her out wandering, gave her a bed to sleep in and a warm breakfast. But in case that doesn’t happen, Father’s going to cut the service short and I’ll be gathering up some more fellows. Continue the search. Suppose you can give a hand if it comes to that?”
    “Will do,” Ray had said. “Won’t leave a stone unturned.”
     
    R uth smiles one last time at Evie, who is chewing on her lower lip as if she is still worried about disappearing like Julianne, and then lifting her face into the hot, dry wind that blows through her open car window, Ruth tightens the knot on her scarf so it won’t slip from under her chin. It’s been a long time since she’s bothered with one, but she doesn’t want Arthur and Celia to see her bruises. All through church, she wore the scarf. Most of the other ladies slip theirs off once inside and tie them on again as services end. Ruth’s scarf, however, draped over her head and tied under her chin, covers the red spot on her lower jaw where Ray struck her with the back of his hand when Floyd left the house that morning. Without the hangover that Ruth could smell on Ray even after his shower, he might have ignored Floyd’s visit. But wherever Ray had been the night before, which was not at home eating strawberry pie, he had drunk plenty.
    “I think you’re right, Celia,” Ruth says, smiling back at Evie again. “Julianne will be home by supper.”
    But two months later, Julianne Robison is still not home.

Chapter 5
    Standing at her own kitchen sink, Celia pushes aside the yellow gingham curtains and white sheers and takes in her first icy breath since moving to Kansas two months earlier. Outside the window, the waxy leaves of a silver maple filter quiet rain. The leaves flutter in the gentle breeze, their silvery white undersides sparkling beneath the gray sky. Even on the hottest August days, the tree had cast a cool, heavy shadow over the kitchen but the sprinkling of golden leaves among the green reminds Celia that soon the tree will be bare. Leaning on the counter, rinsing a colander of white beans that have soaked through the night,