The Singing River by R.K. Ryals Read Free Book Online Page B

for five hundred dollars out of someone’s front yard. Even as ugly as it was, it was the nicest thing Mom had ever owned, and the first time she’d ever owned a car with electric windows. I had been excited, sticking my head out to watch as she drove it through the neighborhood. Mom had been playing with all of the new buttons and somehow managed to close my head in the window. A little crying—and maybe a little laughter—later, Mom had gotten the window back down. At church the following Thanksgiving Sunday, when the preacher asked if anyone had anything to be thankful for, I’d stood—to my mother’s horror—and shouted, “I sure am thankful my mama got my head outta that car window.” It would forever remain a joke between us.
    “It’ll make me feel better to see you off,” Mom said, her voice breaking through my thoughts.
    I looked over at her, at the way the early morning light danced on her glasses as she drove, highlighting the deepening wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Mom had been thirty before she ever had children, and she’d lived a hard life, even harder than ours. It had aged her.
    I patted her free hand where it lay on the seat between us. “I’m excited.”
    Mom grinned. “Good! That’s what I was hoping.” She glanced at me as she pulled over at the fork. “ But if you happen to decide you don’t want to go—”
    “Keep an eye on Mr. Nelson while I’m gone,” I interrupted.
    Mom sighed. “It’s just till Wednesday.”
    “I know, but he gets lonely with only his plants to talk to.”
    Mom threw me a look. “You’re a strange kid, Haven. Shouldn’t you have young friends?”
    I grinned. “Peculiarity runs in the family.”
    The sound of an engine caught our attention, and we looked up, our eyes meeting a gleaming pick-up truck coming down the right fork. Black and new, the Dodge Ram 1500 looked like it had been bought simply for a trip to the river. A canoe was tied to a rack on the top, and I eyed it.
    “That’d be him,” Mom said. “It’s the truck from the office.”
    “Wonder if he’ll trade it when we get back?” I muttered.
    Mom bumped me with her knee. “Hush, Haven.”
    Opening her car door, Mom nodded at the canoe. “I hope they have life jackets.”
    Now it was my turn to hiss, “Hush, Mom!”
    I stepped out of the car just as the truck pulled to a stop.
    An older man with salt and pepper hair climbed out of the passenger side, his face strained but excited. “Ho, there!” he waved. “Susan Ambrose?” His eyes studied me as we approached the vehicle.
    Mom’s arm went around my shoulder. “ I’m Susan. This is Haven.”
    “Oh, right, right. I remember now.” He shook Mom’s hand, and then turned toward me. “Hello, I’m Marley Brayden. Ready for a trip to the river?”
    Peering around him into the truck, my eyes widened when I caught sight of the driver.
    Marley’s gaze followed mine, and he winced. “My nephews will be joining us,” he explained. “The driver is River, and the young man in the back seat is Roman.”
    I glanced at River’s brother, my gaze taking in his angry expression before traveling down his arm.
    I coughed. “Um, is he handcuffed?”
    Mom’s hand tightened on my shoulder, and she fought to see around me. “ What ?” Her squeak was loud in the still morning.
    Marley sputtered.
    River, who’d seemed as surprised to see me as I had to see him, grinned. “It’s a forced family vacation. He didn’t want to go. We’re making him,” he said.
    Mom peeked into the backseat, her mouth near my ear. “They’re insane.”
    “And here you called me peculiar,” I whispered.
    Marley retreated, pulling open the back door before motioning at me, his expression full of apology.
    “Boys,” he muttered.
    Mom’s eyes were full of uncertainty when she looked at me.
    “I’m not sure ...” she began.
    I waved her off. “It’ll be fine, Mom.”
    Hugging her quickly before she had a chance to change her mind, I climbed