Charity by Paulette Callen Read Free Book Online Page B

Batie’s office. In another half hour, she was without the papers and tying her mare to the rail in front of O’Grady’s General Store.
    Gustie entered, grateful to be the only customer. She could conduct her business quickly and be gone, she hoped, before anyone came in.
    “Afternoon, Miss Roemer.” From behind the counter, Kenneth O’Grady greeted her pleasantly, closed the ledger book he was writing in, and stuck the pencil behind his ear. Morgan slid a box he was unpacking out of the way so Gustie could walk by. With his curly hair, rolled up shirt sleeves and suspenders holding up loose serge trousers, Morgan was a seventeen-year-old version of Kenneth. All he lacked was the broadness of maturity and the lines in his face to be the mirror image of his father.
    “I need quite a lot of things today, Kenneth.” He took the pencil from behind his ear, tore off a small piece of brown wrapping paper and wrote as Gustie briskly gave her order: two bags of flour; a pound of salt; five pounds each of sugar and coffee; tins of dried fruit—peaches, apricots, prunes, and apples; a large bag of oatmeal; a pail of eggs; a chunk of butter; a box of tea.
    She took some satisfaction in the surprise on Kenneth’s face as he began to write. She usually ordered only a few things measured out in ounces.
    Among the barrels of dry foods lined up against the back wall stood a barrel of bologna packed in salt brine and another of the evil-smelling fish that the Norwegians loved. She ordered some of the bologna and passed on the fish.
    While Kenneth and Morgan scrambled to measure out each item, wrap or bag it, and load it onto her wagon, Gustie wandered over to the racks of ready-to-wear: pants, shirts, and overalls for men; dresses, skirts, and blouses for women. In glass cases were displayed handkerchiefs, gloves, ornamental hair pins and combs, even a fan and a parasol.
    She held up the skirts and the blouses looking for the largest size available. She found several items she thought would do. Under the glass she spied something that made her smile: a pair of enormous bloomers, trimmed with lace and ribbons. She pointed to them, and Kenneth brought them out and wrapped them along with the other garments in brown paper. She went back to the rack where a nicely tailored split skirt had caught her eye. She bit her lip, then impulsively whipped it off the hanger, chose a high necked yellow blouse to go with it, and added it to her other purchases.
    Behind the display cases, on a corner shelf, lay stacks of paper in creamy linen finishes, matching envelopes, and notebooks, lined and thick. Since coming to Charity, Gustie had never indulged herself in such things. Now, with a subtle trembling joy, for herself alone, she chose a supply of paper, envelopes, notebooks, and a handful of pencils and pens, and two jars of ink—one black, one blue. She brought them to the counter to be added to her already lengthy bill. She thought Kenneth O’Grady was looking worried, knowing as he did how frugally Gustie had lived since coming to Charity. Gustie’s account was up to date, but last night she had purchased three times as much in groceries as she usually did, and now this. He added the sum of her purchases and, with an effort, kept his mouth closed as she counted out new bills in full payment.
    “One more thing.” She looked up. “That. Morgan, can you tie it in my wagon securely so it doesn’t bump around? I have a long road ahead of me.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” Father and son stood on chairs and cut loose the bentwood rocking chair that was suspended from the ceiling. The heavy, beautifully crafted oak chair, Kenneth had despaired of selling. They lowered it carefully. Kenneth wrapped it in sacking material so it would not get scratched and Morgan tied it in the back of the wagon.
    Gustie counted out more bills to cover the cost of the chair plus a few extra. “This is for Lena Kaiser. The next time she comes in, tell her you made a