The Carson Springs Trilogy: Stranger in Paradise, Taste of Honey, and Wish Come True by Eileen Goudge Read Free Book Online

nod.
    Laura lowered herself onto the grass under the live oak where her grandmother used to make special picnics for Alice and her, with sandwiches and cookies on little flowered plates. A few yards away, in the rose bed off the porch, a tiny skeleton lay buried, a pet canary named Winkie. She remembered the mock funeral they’d staged, with Grammy bearing the tiny cardboard box as solemnly as a casket, while Alice brought up the rear, her small hand cupped about a guttering candle.
    “You should try the guacamole,” she said, pointing at the girl’s plate, on which the dip sat untouched.
    Finch nudged it dubiously with her fork. “It doesn’t look like the kind you get at Taco Bell.”
    “That’s because it’s the real thing. Made with avocados from our own trees.”
    Finch brought a tiny forkful to her lips. “It’s pretty spicy.”
    “In this part of the world everything is spicy. You’ll get used to it.” Laura nibbled on an empanada. Ever so casually she asked, “Where did you say you were from?”
    “I didn’t.” The girl’s face closed as abruptly as a door slamming shut.
    Careful, a voice in Laura’s head warned. She tried a different tack. “I was just thinking that if you needed a place to stay I could put you up for a day or two. My ranch is just a few miles down the road.” She knew she ought to have her head examined—didn’t she have enough to juggle as it was?—but the girl looked so damn…bruised. Like a horse that’s been mistreated and is letting you know not to even think of getting near it with a saddle. How could she not offer?
    Finch perked up a bit. “You have a ranch?”
    “I guess you could call it that. I keep a couple of horses. Do you ride?”
    “I…I’ve always wanted to,” she confessed shyly.
    “Well, here’s your chance.” Laura kept her voice light, remembering how skittish her Appaloosa had been when she’d first taken him in, all oozing sores and exposed ribs. She flashed the girl what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I think you and Punch would get along just fine.”
    “That’s a funny name.”
    No more so than Finch. “My mare’s named Judy. Get it? Punch and Judy.” No, she thought, Finch wouldn’t get it. That was way too dated for someone her age.
    But the girl surprised her by saying, “Oh, yeah. Like the puppets. I saw this show on the street once.” She caught herself, as if fearing she’d revealed too much.
    Laura’s gaze wandered to the tent, where nearly every seat was filled. Wes’s friends and relatives mostly—he seemed to have quite a few—with a respectable showing from her own family. Uncle Ray, fat and bald as ever, and Aunt Dolores, trim as in their wedding photos, only a little blonder. Seated on either side were Laura’s married cousins, Jen and Kristy, both coincidentally pregnant. Jen just beginning to show, while Kristy looked about to give birth.
    Laura felt a twinge of guilt. She’d been avoiding her cousins all morning. It was simply too hard, having to act excited for them when she was eaten up with jealousy inside. If she’d been able to have children of her own maybe Peter wouldn’t have left.
    “I could sleep in the barn if you have one.” The voice beside her was soft and tentative, not that of the tough girl who’d been cursing a blue streak just minutes before.
    Laura turned to Finch, her heart constricting at the hesitance in those bruised-looking eyes: that of someone used to second best. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “There’s an extra bed in Maude’s room.”
    “Is she your daughter?”
    Laura laughed. “Lord, no. She’s…well, that’s Maude over there.” She pointed her out at one of the tables. Maude was going on and on about something to Uncle Pernell and Aunt Florine, who wore slightly dazed looks, as if they didn’t quite know what had hit them.
    “Oh.” Finch nodded, as if needing no further explanation. Clearly, she was used to homes that were anything but