Skip Rock Shallows by Jan Watson Read Free Book Online

was hard. She’d gone with Myrtie Sunday last, and even in Myrtie’s company, folks barely acknowledged her. But she had smiled and soldiered through. Maybe next Sunday would be different.
    A woman swept her wooden porch. She leaned on her broom, her face lost in the shadow of a shapeless bonnet, watching as Lilly passed by.
    “Good morning,” Lilly said.
    Her reply was a barely audible “Morning.” She turned her back, brushing vigorously at something under the porch swing with the stub of a straw broom.
    A white-and-tan dog sauntered up, sniffing at Lilly’s heels. She stopped and offered her hand. He looked up at her with soulful brown eyes before taking a tentative sniff. When she walked on, he followed. All along Main Street, dogs popped out from underneath porches and behind houses, happily joining their parade. She might as well have been the mayor. All they needed was a brass band.
    One of the dogs was sleek and muscular with a blue-black coat. She figured him for a coonhound. He edged out her first companion, asserting his authority, strutting next in line behind her. A hapless cat saw the procession coming and quick as a wink darted up an ash tree. The coonhound peeled away and treed the cat, baying like it was the full of the moon and the cat was a masked raccoon.
    Poor kitty, Lilly thought. She’d check on it when she came back this way. The dog would surely get bored by then. She’d have to remember to keep a biscuit in her pocket for her morning companions.
    “Get!” Stanley James yelled as he joined her, swinging his booted foot at the dogs, carefully not making contact. One by one they slunk away back to their outposts, back to their private territories.
    “I didn’t mind their company, Mr. James,” Lilly said.
    “Always liked dogs myself,” he said.
    “I didn’t think you and Mrs. James had any pets.”
    “Lost Sam round about a year ago now. He was a smart one.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “That’s the way, ain’t it?”
    Lilly took three steps to his every one. He might have joined her, but much like the coon dog, he was dominating. “What happened to Sam?”
    “Took on the wrong varmint. Dog’s no match for a bear.”
    Lilly’s hand went to her throat. “Oh, dear.” She had to suppress the urge to touch Mr. James in sympathy. “Will you get another?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. Ain’t ready to take on that sorrow yet.”
    “But don’t you think the joy of having one outweighs the grief of losing one?” Lilly asked.
    “Yeah . . . well, I ain’t certain sure of that. Sounds like you been there yourself.”
    “I once had a beagle. I named her Steady and she was just that. She never let me out of her sight. She was the truest friend I’ve ever had.”
    “So what happened to steady Steady?”
    “Old age sneaked up on her, but she was happy right to the end—chasing rabbits in her dreams.” Lilly sniffed. Steady always brought tears.
    “Humph.” Mr. James cleared his throat and walked ahead. Lilly wondered if he was discomfited to be seen having a conversation with her. It might put him at a disadvantage with the other men. Women in their place and all that. She was swimming upstream here for sure. She wondered if she would ever find her place among these people.
    Darrell’s face was lathered for a shave when Lilly got to the clinic. Ned Tippen was sharpening a straight razor on a leather strop. He ran his thumb over the razor’s bright edge. “I wrote down what the thermometer told me this morning,” he said, glancing at a scrap of paper on the invalid tray. “It was 99.8.”
    “That’s the same as last night,” Lilly said. “Very good.” After taking the pearl-headed pin from her hat, she took it off, stuck the hatpin into the crown of the castor-brown felt, and hung it on the coatrack just inside the door. She slipped a fresh apron over her head, tied it at the neck and waist, and then peered into a hanging mirror to smooth her hair. She liked everything