Stranger in Camelot by Deborah Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

Pogo and one of your princesses?”
    “Not unless somebody gives him a box to stand on.”
    John’s hearty, astonished laugh made her grin, while at the same time she kicked herself for being so blunt. “Excuse me,” she added. “I used to be more delicate. Now I spend too much time in the barn.”
    “It’s a pleasant place, your barn.”
    “It’s better with company. I mean … oh, hell. Open mouth, insert foot. You know what I’m trying to say.”
    “I wish you meant it the way it sounded.”
    She stomped on the accelerator. He was helping her dig herself in too deep, but she was doing most of the shoveling. “So let me finish telling you about Ida and the ducks. People bring the ducks to Ida’s pond. Ida loves the ducks. I don’t know why, because they are, without a doubt, the nastiest, ugliest ducks in the known world. These are escapees from Easter baskets or something. No one’s sure. They hatch little ducks like crazy and take over every lake, pond, and puddle of fresh water. There’s a battle between people who want the ducks left alone and people who want the ducks roasted over an open spit. Grandpa was a roaster.”
    John was laughing silently. “So he and Ida clashed?”
    “Yeah. Locals would sneak into the campground with ducks they’d captured. They dumped them in our lake. Grandpa would round up the ducks and sell them to an alligator zoo over in Ocala.”
    “Where they enjoyed long, happy lives as companions for the alligators, of course.”
    “Of course.”
    “And Mrs. Roberts objected?”
    “Yeah.”
    “She’s not selling roast duck on the sly, is she?”
    “Oh, no. She’s a vegetarian.”
    “Good thing she’s not an alligator.”
    Aggie began grinning. Suddenly, because John was with her, she wasn’t dreading Ida’s tirade anymore. “I’d rather deal with a gator. A kinder bite than Ida’s.”
    John laughed again. She was beginning to love the sound. A giddy wildness was growing inside her. “And you?” he asked. “Where did you stand in the duck war between Mrs. Roberts and you late grandfather?”
    “I think Ida’s an impractical fool for thinking she can give every duck in the country a permanent home, but I sort of hated for the ducks to become alligator munchies. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no softie where ducks are concerned. I can’t afford to be. I’ve got my own tail feathers to worry about.”
    “It’s all right to be a softie at heart, Agnes. You love animals, even ducks. I think that’s marvelous.”
    His admiration made her tingle, even though she suspected it was only flattery. Well, she could use some flattery, she told herself—as long as she enjoyed it but didn’t believe it.
    “My mother’s parents were Quakers,” she told John. “I used to visit them up in Pennsylvania when I was little. That is, whenever I wasn’t working out in California. I really loved their farm. They weren’t sentimental about their animals, but they respected them. They had a live-and-let-live attitude toward things.”
    “Your mother was a Quaker too?”
    Aggie chewed the inside of her mouth for a moment. “Not when it interfered with what she wanted. No. Mom didn’t get along with her folks.” She made her voice breezy and changed the subject. “So maybe those kindheartedQuaker instincts jumped a generation, and I got them.”
    She made a disgusted sound at her whimsical explanation and realized that being with John made her think about who and what she was—and how different her background was from his.
    “Tell me about your parents,” he prompted. “Are they both living?”
    “Oh, let’s stop talking about my family,” she said lightly. “Take my word for it. You and I don’t have much in common. When it comes to family histories, you got the Broadway production and I got the road company.”
    “And we speak different languages, too, because I’m bewildered again.”
    “My parents weren’t a class act. I’m ashamed of them. Enough