No Way Home by Patricia MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

started to protest but Gray interrupted her. “He wouldn’t leave.”
    Lillie looked up and saw the man standing in the doorway behind Grayson. The first thing she thought was how odd it was to see Jordan Hill in a tie. He never wore a tie, not even on the day they were married. His eyes were puffy, but his drawn, handsome face was composed.
    Brenda slapped the curtain down on the ironing board and jerked the iron off the trivet. “Well, well,” she said in a chilly voice. “Nice of you to come.”
    “Hello, Brenda,” he said, but he was looking into Lillie’s eyes. Then he shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Lillie,” he said in almost a whisper.
    She could feel the inflection of his voice like a dark, silent bell, sounding all the way through her, her name spoken as if it were a plea. There was a blissful time in her life, a rapturous time when Michele was conceived, when she could deny him nothing if he spoke her name. The odd sense of déjà vu died away, and her heart felt wintry and gray again.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    Lillie shrugged and looked away from him.
    “Is there any news?”
    “No, nothing.”
    “My mama wanted to come but the doc made her take a sedative. She’s taking this so hard.”
    “I know, I called her,” Lillie said numbly. “I don’t want her to get sick. The funeral will be bad enough for her.”
    “I need to know the arrangements,” said Jordan. “Is everything settled?”
    Lillie looked faintly surprised. In a cool voice she said, “If there’s anything special you want for her…”
    “No, no, whatever you decide will be fine.”
    The room fell silent and then Gray said in a loud, stilted voice, “My mother is tired.”
    “The funeral is tomorrow,” said Lillie. “There will be no viewing. That’s all we know right now. I’ll call you with all the arrangements.”
    “Okay,” said Jordan. “I’m over at my mother’s.” He looked from Brenda to Grayson, who had edged over to Lillie and were surrounding her like sentries. “I better be going.”
    “Give Miss Bessie my love,” Lillie said stiffly.
    Jordan nodded. “Her only grandchild.”
    “Don’t,” said Lillie, holding up a hand as if to stay him.
    The back door opened and Pink came in. He stopped short at the sight of Jordan Hill in his house. The two men stared at one another, neither one sure whether to offer condolences or to accept them. Jordan broke the silence.
    “Do we know anything yet?”
    “They haven’t caught that bastard yet,” said Pink, “if that’s what you mean.”
    “So the sheriff’s pretty sure it was Partin,” said Jordan.
    “Of course it was Partin, for chrissakes,” Pink muttered.
    An uneasy silence fell over the room. Lillie glanced up at Jordan. “We’ll be in touch with you,” she said stiffly.
    Jordan nodded and turned to go. Then he looked back at Pink. “You always took such good care of her, Pink,” he said. “She always said so.”
    Pink looked as if he wanted to lunge at the other man’s throat. “What’s that? A sick joke?” he cried.
    Jordan shook his head wearily and looked back at Lillie. “Never mind,” he said. “I’ll be at my mother’s.”
    Lillie could feel his eyes on her but she did not look up. She understood what he meant. He had only been trying to console Pink. But there was no point in trying to explain it. His words of consolation were not welcome here. She thought how old and haggard she must look to him right now and was relieved when she heard the door close behind him.

Chapter 4
    A STEADY DRIZZLE BEGAN BEFORE DAWN on Tuesday morning, and it was still coming down as people gathered outside the River of Jordan Baptist Church, patiently waiting their turn to be seated inside for the funeral service. It was a chilly rain, the first harbinger of autumn in Cress County, and it seeped under the collars of the waiting mourners, as church elders, soberly dressed in