Embers of Love by Tracie Peterson Read Free Book Online

father was left crippled after an accident in the rail yard.”
    “How tragic,” the woman replied. “I often worry after Zed at the sawmill, although he’s not nearly so busy with the day-to-day running as he used to be. But I am concerned for my sons. Injuries happen all the time.”
    “Well, that’s why we brought in a doctor, Mrs. Perkins,” Zed told his wife. “So you would stop fretting so much.”
    Everyone chuckled at this. Sissy placed the last bowl of food on the table and stood aside with folded hands as was her traditional signal that it was time to pray. Deborah bowed her head, finding even this simple reminder of home to be a blessing.
    Grace was offered by Uncle Arjan and conversation was put aside to focus instead on fried okra, rice and beans, and of course the promise of dessert. Deborah smiled appreciatively at the sight of her mother’s buttermilk biscuits. How she’d missed the food of her childhood.
    The conversation picked up a bit after the eating began. Once their initial hunger had abated, folks began to discuss the issues of the day between bites. Deborah listened with great interest as Mrs. Perkins addressed her desire for a larger school.
    “I believe with the growing number of children in our community, it would serve us well to build a school separate from the church. I’ve been after Mr. Perkins for some time now to consider the matter. The schoolmaster agrees it is a much needed project.”
    “I think that would be grand,” Euphanel Vandermark replied. Deborah knew her mother’s longtime friendship with Rachel Perkins often had the women seeing eye-to-eye on town matters. “Education has long suffered in this area.”
    “Too many folks associate free school with the Reconstructionists and their impositions on our society,” Mr. Perkins stated.
    Mrs. Perkins nodded. “People are inclined to cut off their noses to spite their faces. Still, I think if we offered a nicely built school with quality desks and good books, educating children through the eighth grade would be no problem at all.”
    “Rachel is good about spending my money before I make it,” Zed Perkins said, laughing.
    “Aren’t all women?” Rob questioned with a wink at Lizzie. “It’s because they’re so pretty, though, that we don’t seem to mind too much.” He smiled at the Perkins sisters, causing them to flush and giggle all the more.
    “Why not take them beyond eighth grade?” Deborah asked.
    Everyone looked at her for a moment, and then Annabeth shrugged. “Not many folks are even interested in education beyond that point.”
    Mrs. Perkins nodded and looked to Deborah. “It’s true. I doubt there’s much of an interest. It’s hard enough to get the people around here to spare their children for six years of education, much less eight. I’m hopeful, however, that we can make it more appealing.”
    Deborah held her tongue. No sense in appearing too confrontational on her first full day back. If the last four years away had taught her anything, it was that sometimes it was best to watch and listen. Popping a piece of buttered biscuit into her mouth, Deborah closed her eyes and savored the flavor. It was just as good as she remembered.
    “Miss Vandermark, you have an expression that suggests pure euphoria.”
    Deborah’s eyes snapped open to find Dr. Clayton watching her. Actually, everyone was now watching her. Apparently Dr. Clayton’s comment had interested them all. She fought her embarrassment and swallowed.
    “My mother makes the best biscuits in the county – probably even the state, although I’ve not attempted to verify that fact.”
    Dr. Clayton grinned. “I would agree.” He turned toward Deborah’s mother. “I’ve never eaten anything quite so delectable. If my mother had made biscuits half so well, I might never have left home.”
    “Why, aren’t you just the kindest man to say so,” her mother declared. “I shall have to make sure you get an extra large piece of pie