Pieces of Dreams by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online

and were only pretending now as an excuse to linger. And a good thing they had finished, too, considering the subject under discussion. Not that it bothered him a bit, but Melly's straight little nose was wrinkled in such a comical expression of distaste that it made him long to kiss it.
    “It was not Caleb!”
    He pointed the chicken leg at her. “You just don't remember. You were only five years old; you said so yourself. You didn't learn to tell us apart until you were at least six.”
    “And you were almost fifteen—old enough, surely, to have some consideration for the feelings of a little girl. I was so mortified by the experience that I cried for hours. And I still check my shoes every time I come in from the street.”
    “Oh, Melly,” he said quietly, his chest tight. “I'm so sorry.”
    “There! You did do it!”
    He gave a definite shake of his head. “I meant I was sorry it happened, not that I take responsibility.”
    “Well, Caleb would absolutely never have done such a thing.”
    “My brother may be a paragon, but he's still human. He makes his share of mistakes, certainly did when he was younger. And he's never been above pretending to be me when it suits him. Anyway, it has to have been him who called you smelly because there are only two of us and it sure wasn't me! I would never have dreamed of it because I used to think you were the sweetest-smelling little thing that I—”
    He stopped abruptly as she swung her head to stare at him there in the dimness.
    “You what?” she demanded.
    “Absolutely. And I still do.” He folded his lips over the words, stubborn and unrepentant, though he shielded his gaze with his lashes. “Lavender and roses and spice. The scent is always with you; it's one of the things I remembered most when I was on the other side of the world.”
    “I—It must be Aunt Dora's potpourri. She puts it in the dresser drawers, the wardrobe, everywhere,” Melly said almost at random.
    “Don't ever let her stop.” Avoiding her gaze, he reverted to the previous subject out of sheer self-protection. “Anyway, I've done enough in my short life that I deserved a good hiding for without taking the blame for things I didn't and don't do. It plain wasn't me called you names.”
    She watched him a moment, then took another pickle slice on the end of her fork and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed it, she shook her head. “I can't believe it. All this time I thought...”
    “Don't be too hard on old Caleb. It was only a tiny slip of the halo.”
    Melly watched the crooked smile that curved Conrad's mouth, hearing the trace of bitterness and old pain in his voice. With their families living so close together on Main Street, they knew a great deal about each other's lives. She could remember Conrad always being in trouble of some kind, remember people calling him a scamp and worse, while Caleb was known for being polite and staying out of trouble.
    She could also recall angry scenes when Conrad had shouted at his father, protesting at being blamed for everything. Once, she had come upon him crying after a terrible quarrel over some misdeed that had ended in a visit to the wood shed for a whipping. She had wanted to go to him and put her arms around him, to help ease his awful grief. But he had been older, and she knew he would not like knowing she had seen the tears in his eyes. She had crept away without a sound. Yet she had felt a special sympathy for him afterward, even when everyone else in town shook their heads over him.
    She said now, “Caleb doesn't claim to be an angel.”
    “No,” he said on a sigh, “a body can't even hold that against him.”
    “Still...”
    “What?” he said when she did not go on.
    “It makes me wonder what else there might be that I don't know about him.”
    He watched her a long moment before he tossed the chicken leg away and began to wipe his fingers on his napkin. “Not a thing,” he said deliberately. “Or if