Mary Connealy by Golden Days Read Free Book Online Page A

window just made it all the more certain from whom this family drew its strength.
    The front door stood wide open, and Meredith worked outside, leaning over a table.
    Amy wanted to go to Braden and thank him for getting her here yesterday. She couldn’t remember anything after she left her father’s house. Braden had stepped in, as he had the whole trip, and taken care of her. She felt shy to talk to him for some reason, so she took a step toward Meredith and froze.
    For the first time, she noticed the crates Braden had brought up the river with him. They were piled high throughout the cabin. Amy’s eyes widened at the things that draped out of the boxes and sat here and there on the floor.
    Pure garbage.
    A white and gold china figurine of a fine lady, her hair piled high on her head, holding out her long skirts as if to curtsy. Bolts of cloth—pretty but lightweight and impractical. A set of glass dishes. Only a few plates and cups survived intact.
    A mantel clock, large and ornate. Amy shook her head. The clock ticked away on the roughly built kitchen table that took up half the room. But what did time matter in Alaska? Time was simple: dark and light, winter and not winter. Besides, the Raffertys didn’t have a mantel. She remembered the Simonovich cabin did. The beautiful mantel in her father’s cabin had been carved by her grandfather. The contents of its hidden drawer might prove her father hadn’t sold the cabin.
    She had to go back. She had to open that secret drawer. If her father had sold the cabin, the deed would be signed over to the new owner. If the deed still lay hidden in that drawer, then the man had taken the cabin and perhaps even killed her father.
    A wave of grief stopped her from charging outside and heading straight for her father’s house. She wasn’t even sure how much farther they’d come upstream, although she had no doubt she’d find her way home without trouble. She needed to wait until she’d regained her strength, and she needed to repay the Raffertys for their kindness.
    Amy walked outside in the spring warmth and sunlight, savoring the feel of a cool breeze against her damp hair. She noticed Braden splitting logs and approached Meredith. “Why is Braden doing that, Meredith?”
    Meredith, standing over a cobbled-together table and slicing sheep steaks, straightened. “Call me Merry, please. He’s chopping wood.” Meredith smiled. “Who knows why? Ian told him to pick it up off the ground, but Braden seems determined to do it the hard way.”
    Amy glanced at the tidy stone fireplace on the side of the cabin. “What he’s splitting is too fresh. If he picks up windfall branches, they’re already cured. The fresh wood smokes.”
    Meredith, her hands covered in blood from her carving, looked a little pale, but she smiled. “We told him all that. He just said he needed to work off some energy, and it’d be cured by winter. Which is true. Ian told me to leave him to it. I think it has something to do with Maggie. He must need to keep busy.”
    “Who is Maggie?”
    Meredith’s eyes widened. “I thought you’d traveled here together. He said he met you on the ship.”
    “We did.”
    “He never told you that his wife died three months ago, giving birth to their first child?”
    Amy’s grief, fresh and deep, swept over her. She remembered that moment when Braden had faced her at Papa’s cabin. She’d known he mourned someone. Tears burned her eyes. “No, he never told me.”
    Meredith shook her head. “I’m sorry to have spoken of it. You’re thinking of your father now; I can see.”
    There was no time to spare for tears. Amy dashed to wipe them away, then straightened her spine and turned to the day’s chores. “Why are you having sheep again? It’s tough, and they’re heavy to cart home. The skins are nice, but I prefer bearskin or sealskin.” Amy clamped her mouth shut, realizing she sounded rude. She’d always had trouble not speaking her mind.
    Meredith