Magnolia Dawn by Erica Spindler Read Free Book Online Page B

laying a slab of ham on each. “There’re some carrot and celery sticks in the fridge,” she said, her voice wobbling with fatigue.
    He made a face. “Any chips?”
    â€œSorry.” She watched as he piled the sandwiches on a plate and set it on the table, then went to the refrigerator for the pitcher of iced tea.
    â€œIt’s okay to be weak sometimes,” he said softly, taking the seat across from hers. “To be frightened. It’s part of being alive.”
    A shudder ran through her, and she shook her head and met his eyes. “Not from where I’m sitting.”
    He held her gaze a moment, his own inscrutable. Then he selected a sandwich and began to eat. “How long has Ashland been your responsibility?”
    â€œTotally mine for just over ten years. Since Daddy died. Before that…” Anna shook her head. “Never mind.”
    â€œBefore that, what?”
    She selected a carrot stick, toyed with it for a moment, then tossed it down, untasted. “After Mama died, Daddy needed a
lot of help with Ashland. I was the natural choice.”
    He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “And you didn’t expect that?”
    â€œNo. I…I thought he had everything under control. I thought he ran things. But it was always Mama. Even when we were young. So when she died—”
    â€œThe load shifted to you.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œNo other family members around to help out?”
    Lowell. Their argument came crashing back, with it a biting sense of betrayal. Anna tensed and met Rush’s eyes. “You met my brother Lowell the other night. And I’m sure, after having spent a week in Ames, you know a fair bit about him. Including the fact that he has no interest in Ashland.”
    â€œI do know that,” Rush said, toying with a teaspoon. “I was referring to other relations. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Surely you and your brother aren’t the last of the Ameses.”
    â€œBut we are. Mama was the only child of only children. Daddy lost one brother when he was in his teens, the other before he and his wife had children.”
    Rush frowned. “No cousins at all? It’s hard to believe.”
    Anna arched her eyebrows. “You must be one of those people with an army of relations.”
    â€œActually,” Rush said quietly, “I have no one.”
    No one. Something in the way he said the words, the look in his eyes as he’d said them, plucked at her heartstrings. She lifted her eyebrows in feigned outrage. “Mr. Cousins, I find your curiosity most untoward.”
    Rush laughed. “Untoward? I didn’t think people talked like that anymore.”
    She laughed. “Down here we do.”
    â€œThat’s right. All that highfalutin language and manners.”
    â€œAnd all that Yankee care-be-damned brashness.”
    â€œYankee?” Rush leaned toward her, amused. “Honey, didn’t anybody tell you, that war ended years ago.”
    â€œNot down here.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes. “I was ten before I realized that damn and Yankee were two words.”
    He tipped his head back and laughed. “You all don’t say?”
    She patted her mouth with a napkin. “It’s y’all. And I do say.”
    For a moment their eyes held, the silence between them heavy with awareness. As if uncomfortable, he caught her hand and inspected her thumb with exaggerated seriousness. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to hers. “You’ll live.”
    She swallowed. “I told you.”
    â€œThat you did.”
    Instead of releasing her hand, he continued to hold it in his, moving his fingers over the delicate ridges of her knuckles, studying, exploring. Her pulse fluttered and heat moved languorously over her.
She told herself to draw her hand away from his; she hadn’t the strength of will. She hadn’t the desire.
    He laced their fingers, meeting her gaze