Stripped Bare by Shannon Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

flip-flops tossed underneath. I peeled off my coat and manure-crusted boots, kicked them out of the way, and padded to the back door.
    I entered the sunny kitchen and slid along the old linoleum. I only got as far as the fridge before I stalled out. Most of my brothers and sisters have real, grown-up refrigerators. The kind that stand taller than a barefoot preteen. A modern appliance with two doors and shelves and drawers and even a separate freezer compartment. I was sure my fridge was the same as the model in I Love Lucy ’s kitchen. I couldn’t use the freezer nestled in the top because it frosted over so quickly.
    I slipped from the kitchen. The house, not counting the unfinished basement, was probably spacious by homesteaders’ standards. I loved all one thousand square feet of it, even if most folks would find it dowdy and cramped.
    The silence nearly crushed me. Was it only yesterday that Carly’s annoying rap music competed with Ted’s complaints that we were out of eggs? What had Carly said about her plans? She wasn’t much of a morning person. But she’d seemed even more growly than usual. She’d refused breakfast, finished off the milk by drinking from the carton and shoving it back in the fridge. With a “See ya,” she tromped out the back door. Ted hadn’t been far behind her. Then, I’d been happy for the peace.
    How would I tell Carly she’d lost another loved one?
    A creak from above sent a zing shooting through me. I tore through the dining room to the short hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. I wrenched open the door to the attic. “Carly?”
    â€œYeah,” she hollered back.
    Cool relief showered me. “I didn’t know you were home.” I started up the steep stairs where I piled her folded laundry, books, shoes, and any other things I cleared from the rest of the house. “Where’s your pickup?”
    Her head appeared around the top of the stairs, long blonde hair draping across her face. Puffy eyes and a red nose paired with her hoarse voice. “By the fuel tanks. Just a sec. I’ll be down.”
    She knew. I’d dreaded telling her, but I didn’t trust the job to anyone else. What had they said? What would I say now? I backed down and waited for her by the front door, where I strained to see to the far side of the barn, to the fuel tanks.
    The attic door clicked shut and Carly trudged from the hall, shoulders slumped under her backpack, hands thrust deep into her jeans pockets. “Hey.”
    I stood in the living room between the office we’d converted from a closet, and the couch. I held my arms out and she walked into them. But she seemed done crying and impatient with my touch. She straightened quickly.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Bird,” I said.
    Her eyes swam, but the tears stayed put. “Yeah. It sucks.” She looked above my head, out the window.
    I gave a quick glance outside, then back at her. “Is someone filling up your pickup?”
    Her gaze dropped to the floor, over to the wall, and with a sigh of resignation she answered, “Yeah. Danny.”
    Danny Hayward. Her sometimes boyfriend. Though not since last spring. I didn’t put much effort into hiding my surprise or disappointment. “He’s the one who told you?”
    She frowned. “He called me from town last night and I went to get him.”
    â€œAnd you stayed out all night?” That wasn’t what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the words to show how sorry I was for not being here to tell her. Sorry it happened at all.
    Carly’s sweet face hardened in defense. Most folks said Carly took after the Edwardses, with her Swedish blonde, blue-eyed beauty. But one look in her intelligent, fiery eyes branded her as a Fox, and more specifically, as my oldest sister, Glenda’s, daughter. “We sort of needed each other.”
    As Rope and Nat’s grandson and ward, Danny