Once Upon a Summer by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online Page A

She deliberately looked around at the other ladies present to see just what kind of an impression this had made on all of them. She wasn’t disappointed.
    I headed for my spot at the back of the wagon and got set to remove my shoes jest as soon as the church was out of sight.
    I knew that Auntie Lou was in a real hurry to get home so that she could finish the dinner preparations. The table was already laid and a fine bunch of mixed flowers stood on the small table by the window. The meal had been left in big simmerin’ pots on the fire-banked kitchen stove. Things would be nigh about ready to tie into when we got home. Grandpa pushed the team a bit. He was in a hurry, too.
    The wagon had hardly stopped rollin’ when Auntie Lou’s feet hit the ground and she was off to the kitchen almost on the run. Grandpa sort of misread her eagerness, and I saw him give Uncle Charlie an elbow and nod toward Auntie Lou. They grinned like two schoolboys who had jest put a garter snake in the teacher’s desk.
    We didn’t have to wait too long for the Rawleighs. I guess they were kinda excited about the whole thing, too. By the time they arrived Auntie Lou had everything in order. She appeared as cool as though she had spent the day swayin’ in a hammock in the shade instead of rushin’ around a kitchen over a hot stove.
    Grandpa made short work of the preliminaries. He was about to seat the folks at the table when Lou stepped over and did it with such grace that no one could question her right to do so. She placed Grandpa at his usual place at the far end of the table with Mrs. Rawleigh to his right. Beside Mrs. Rawleigh sat Uncle Charlie. Jedd was seated at Grandpa’s left and beside Jedd, me. Lou took the hostess’ chair opposite Grandpa.
    We all bowed our heads while Grandpa said grace. As well as bein’ thankful for the food, he thanked the Lord for “kind friends to share our table and our fellowship.” I’m sure that the widow Rawleigh thought that was awfully cute of Grandpa, for she slipped him the most meaningful little smile when he raised his head.
    The meal went well enough. The grown folks did most of the talkin’. Occasionally Jedd made a comment. It was usually a little off-beat, it seemed to me, and I got the impression that in spite of his prospect of becomin’ a rich farmer, the guy really wasn’t too bright. The widow Rawleigh didn’t see it that way, and no matter what Jedd said she beamed her smile of approval. The whole thing sorta rubbed against me. There was no way that I wanted this guy for an uncle—no matter which way it might come about.
    After the dinner and all the comments about how fine the food was, Lou suggested that everyone have their second cup of coffee on the back porch. That way we could all get out of the over-warm kitchen. Folks agreed and soon everyone was seated on the porch sippin’ coffee—except Uncle Charlie. He gulped his.
    A bit of a breeze rustled through the leaves of the honeysuckle vine. It played with Lou’s hair, too—whispin’ it in little curls around her flushed pink cheeks. As I looked at her I thought that her eyes seemed even bluer—maybe because of the blue dress that she was wearin’. I held my breath, hopin’ that Jedd wouldn’t take a good look at her. A fellow would have to have corn cobs in his brain not to see jest how pretty Auntie Lou was. I was about to blurp something out to Jedd to try to keep his attention when Auntie Lou herself saved the day.
    “If you’ll all jest excuse me,” she said, “I think I’ll put the food away.”
    The widow knew perfectly well that a woman couldn’t properly put away another woman’s leftovers, so she gave a sweet smile and remarked, “When you’re ready to wash up, dear, just call.”
    Lou only smiled, then was gone. I followed her in. She glanced back at the porch.
    “Josh,” she said, “I know that it’s a heap to ask, but do you s’pose you could find some way to entertain Jedd?”
    I thought