The Mirror by Marlys Millhiser Read Free Book Online
Authors: Marlys Millhiser
on the porch. That's the one that'd been in my room, it ... oh, look. A deer. I saw a deer. And there's another, by the creek."
"You saw a deer." He didn't bother to look at the deer. His expression didn't change.
Frustrated tears all over her face. "It's no use, is it? You don't believe me and I don't know how to prove it." She fished the hanky out of the beaded bag. "Wait, I know. I can tell you of things that will happen in the future."
"You foretell the future."
"Listen, wise guy. Last Sunday when I came up with Marek, he's the fiance I told you about, this road . . ." When she'd finished with the improvements to the canyon she went on to dredge up what little she could remember of her history studies. History had bored her all through school and she'd memorized enough to pass tests, then cleaned out her mind for more interesting details. She skimmed over the depression Oh, how Rachael'd carried on about that and the two world wars . . .
"All over the world?"
"No, just Europe and Asia mostly and there'll be wars in Korea and Vietnam."
Corbin had never heard of either.
"They used to be called something else, I can't remember now." Shay went on to cars and television sets . . . the wildness of the canyon really did have a beauty of its own. How did they ever clear away so much of the tumbled rock and fallen trees to make the canyon that she knew?
Corbin kept his deadpan in place through airplanes but when Shay reached the point of women wearing pants and skirts above the knee he broke into sudden laughter.
Shay drooped. Well, what'd you expect, dumb-dumb? At least he'd heard her out. But how did one explain the impossible? How explain the future to someone who hadn't lived it or with its consequences?
Corbin's laughter died as suddenly as it'd come, replaced by thoughtfulness and then suspicion. "You aren't one of those lady authors, are you? In secret?" Disapproval in his tone.
"No." She shrugged Brandy's shoulders. "I'm just old crazy Brandy. And this is hopeless." She reached again for the handkerchief.
The road rose precipitously away from the creek on a narrow bank supported by a rock wall and tree-trunk braces. From around the curve ahead came the sound of bells.
"Damn!" Corbin glanced at her. "Sorry."
"What is it?"
"Freight wagon." He put his hand to the side of his mouth. "Whoa up, ahead!"
"But nobody can pass here."
"I'll have to back to a turnoff. You get up the hill and out of the way."
Shay ripped the hem of her grandmother's skirt as she left the wagon, fought the troublesome garment as she scampered up away from the road. She collapsed into the shade of a boulder in time to see six horses, two abreast, pull a wagonload of massive machinery around the bend. The horses stopped and the driver put his foot out on the brake to wait as Corbin backed his team down the incline.
When the wagon hit the canyon wall and a front wheel almost went over the ledge opposite, Shay was thankful he'd let her out first. She drew in a noisy breath and the driver of the freight, who was calmly dumping tobacco from a pouch onto a thin paper, looked up with a lazy smile.
He lifted his hat and nodded. "Ma'am."
Shay nodded back and let out her breath slowly, catching a glimpse of platinum blond hair before he replaced the hat.
He licked the paper, smoothed it and lit it with a wooden match he'd scraped under his boot. Taking a long puff, he looked up again.
The tanned face and sandy mustache didn't match the hair, neither did the insolent gold-brown eyes. Instant dislike mingled with the shock of recognition as Shay straightened her back at the hard stare below her.
Here, at last, was the man in Grandma Bran's wedding picture in the hall.
7
At a shout from Corbin, somewhere down the canyon, the freighter released the brake enough to let his horses move away.
Shay sat listening to the boiling creek over Brandy's heartbeat, telling herself she'd imagined the similarities between the man in the old wedding
"You saw a deer." He didn't bother to look at the deer. His expression didn't change.
Frustrated tears all over her face. "It's no use, is it? You don't believe me and I don't know how to prove it." She fished the hanky out of the beaded bag. "Wait, I know. I can tell you of things that will happen in the future."
"You foretell the future."
"Listen, wise guy. Last Sunday when I came up with Marek, he's the fiance I told you about, this road . . ." When she'd finished with the improvements to the canyon she went on to dredge up what little she could remember of her history studies. History had bored her all through school and she'd memorized enough to pass tests, then cleaned out her mind for more interesting details. She skimmed over the depression Oh, how Rachael'd carried on about that and the two world wars . . .
"All over the world?"
"No, just Europe and Asia mostly and there'll be wars in Korea and Vietnam."
Corbin had never heard of either.
"They used to be called something else, I can't remember now." Shay went on to cars and television sets . . . the wildness of the canyon really did have a beauty of its own. How did they ever clear away so much of the tumbled rock and fallen trees to make the canyon that she knew?
Corbin kept his deadpan in place through airplanes but when Shay reached the point of women wearing pants and skirts above the knee he broke into sudden laughter.
Shay drooped. Well, what'd you expect, dumb-dumb? At least he'd heard her out. But how did one explain the impossible? How explain the future to someone who hadn't lived it or with its consequences?
Corbin's laughter died as suddenly as it'd come, replaced by thoughtfulness and then suspicion. "You aren't one of those lady authors, are you? In secret?" Disapproval in his tone.
"No." She shrugged Brandy's shoulders. "I'm just old crazy Brandy. And this is hopeless." She reached again for the handkerchief.
The road rose precipitously away from the creek on a narrow bank supported by a rock wall and tree-trunk braces. From around the curve ahead came the sound of bells.
"Damn!" Corbin glanced at her. "Sorry."
"What is it?"
"Freight wagon." He put his hand to the side of his mouth. "Whoa up, ahead!"
"But nobody can pass here."
"I'll have to back to a turnoff. You get up the hill and out of the way."
Shay ripped the hem of her grandmother's skirt as she left the wagon, fought the troublesome garment as she scampered up away from the road. She collapsed into the shade of a boulder in time to see six horses, two abreast, pull a wagonload of massive machinery around the bend. The horses stopped and the driver put his foot out on the brake to wait as Corbin backed his team down the incline.
When the wagon hit the canyon wall and a front wheel almost went over the ledge opposite, Shay was thankful he'd let her out first. She drew in a noisy breath and the driver of the freight, who was calmly dumping tobacco from a pouch onto a thin paper, looked up with a lazy smile.
He lifted his hat and nodded. "Ma'am."
Shay nodded back and let out her breath slowly, catching a glimpse of platinum blond hair before he replaced the hat.
He licked the paper, smoothed it and lit it with a wooden match he'd scraped under his boot. Taking a long puff, he looked up again.
The tanned face and sandy mustache didn't match the hair, neither did the insolent gold-brown eyes. Instant dislike mingled with the shock of recognition as Shay straightened her back at the hard stare below her.
Here, at last, was the man in Grandma Bran's wedding picture in the hall.
7
At a shout from Corbin, somewhere down the canyon, the freighter released the brake enough to let his horses move away.
Shay sat listening to the boiling creek over Brandy's heartbeat, telling herself she'd imagined the similarities between the man in the old wedding
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