Half Past Mourning by Fleeta Cunningham Read Free Book Online

from the cottage. He hadn’t really appreciated the girl’s situation, he realized. It must be hell for a pretty young woman, once vibrant and alive with hopes and plans, to be caught in the web that entangled Nina. Neither married nor single, not matron or maid, but closed out of the normal activities of both. By some definition Nina was a married woman, though no definition would describe her as a wife. She couldn’t let herself be attracted to a man. She was a lovely, intelligent person, warm and caring, who sat at home and graded papers or spent her free time with her uncle. Not a normal social life at all for a girl her age. No decent man would approach her knowing she was married, and nothing less than an honorable man would do for a small-town schoolteacher. Her courage and the steady look in her caramel eyes spoke of her strength and character. Peter had to admire the young woman’s determination, but something more, a subtle attraction, underlined his compassion.
    Nina called her life limbo, but it’s got to be just plain hell for the girl. Wonder if the mother-in-law had a real reason to think her son left Nina at the church? Was he that irresponsible? Or that callous? If he didn’t want to marry her, why go through with the ceremony? The whole situation is confused. The only way it makes sense is if someone stopped Danny from coming back, attacked him or took him. Ransom? Maybe, but why take the car, too? Seems like an unnecessary complication, and apparently there’s never been a demand for money. Enemies? What kind of enemy could a guy like that make? He was almost an invalid much of his life, the way Nina tells it. No, there’s too much we don’t know, too many unseen factors, to draw any conclusions. I have to get more information. And pretty Nina is the only place I can get it. I pressed about as far as I could tonight, but she knows more than she realizes. She’ll just have to come to trust me enough to talk freely.
    Peter’s questions and half-drawn suspicions churned in his mind as he made the drive back to Pueblo and the house he rented from the physics professor. The street, quiet and badly lit, was lifeless this time of night. People had retreated to their bedrooms, windows closed against the spring chill and hint of rain in the air. Soon those windows would be flung open, curtains fluttering from the swish of oscillating fans, as the inhabitants tried to find a way to lessen the oppressive heat of a Texas summer. Kids would be chasing fireflies, their folks would linger on the porches, and the click of ice stirred into tall glasses of sweet tea would fill the evening. Not tonight, though, Peter mused. Tonight held no more hint of the summer to come than the scent of newly blooming honeysuckle filling the air.
    The house was older than its neighbors, with native stone walls that kept in the heat during winter and harbored what coolness could be found in summer. Peter liked the place, had made the second bedroom a functioning office and ignored the shortcomings of the kitchen and antiquated bath. The furniture came with the lease, sturdy, scarred, mismatched, but serviceable. Taking care not to bend Nina’s photographs, he stacked them on his makeshift desk with the pages of notes he’d taken as she talked. Absently pulling his tie loose, he settled into the creaking office chair, flipped on the desk lamp, and looked down at the top photograph.
    Danny Wilson at twenty-five still had an unfinished, boyish look to his face. From the picture, Peter couldn’t tell if the eyes were brown or blue. A certain heaviness in the lids masked them, but Peter thought the driver’s license had said brown. Danny’s hair was light, a flaxen blond combed smooth and parted to the side. The face hadn’t seen enough life to have much character to it. Just a fresh-faced young man about to begin life’s journey with a pretty girl who loved him. That Nina loved Danny was clear even in the picture. She had the