Yesterday's Stardust by Becky Melby Read Free Book Online Page B

lunch pail. The crisp air turned heavy. She’d known Theo since she was five and he was six. He’d asked her to marry him when he was twelve. She’d said yes. Since then, they’d held hands every day on the way to and from school. Never, in all that time, had she felt awkward around him. But never before had his eyes simmered like Rod La Rocque’s in
The Ten Commandments.
She took the pail.
    “Earl is just
dumme.
”
    She kicked moss off a rock and shrugged. “Sticks and stones.”
    Theo laughed. Gentle. It rumbled in her belly. “You do not always need to be strong,” he said.
    “I just…don’t care. You’re right—he’s dumme.”
    One corner of his darkened lip rose. Because she’d gotten the accent right or because she’d failed? His head tilted to one side. “Vhy—” His brow furrowed as he reshaped his mouth. A summer at home with a mother who spoke little English had deepened his accent. “Why would Earl say something like that?”
    She took two steps, head down as if she were searching for something. Like an answer that wasn’t a lie. Or the truth.
    “Francie?” His man voice slid over her like summer sun. “It is not true, is it?”
    Bread crumbs skittered in the bottom of her pail as it banged against her hip.
    She slowed and glanced at Theo. His father’s eyes looked back. Grown-up eyes. She watched a squirrel dig a hole at the base of an oak tree, hiding his plunder from the world.
    “Is it true?” Theo touched her arm. “Your father is bootlegging?”
    In her head, Earl’s jeers drowned the concern in Theo’s new, strange voice. Eyes smarting, she ran up the hill toward home. Reaching the top, she scanned the valley. A truck sat in front of the barn. Gold letters painted on the shiny black side spelled out H ENDERSON M APLE S YRUP Co. E ST. 1919. Theo wouldn’t know not all the gallon cans held syrup, but the sight made her skin prickle.
    She whipped around, almost banging into him, took him by the hand, and led him to her rock. Sitting down, she patted the flat slab and Theo joined her, his arm almost touching hers as they faced into the sun.
    “What are you going to do when you spring this place, Theo?”
    He ran his hand through hair streaked with blond. It fell back over his forehead. “You know vhat I am going to do. But I am not in a hurry. I do not see this as a prison. I wish you did not.”
    Drawing her knees to her chest, she pulled her dress down to her ankles and wrapped her arms around her legs. “After I leave here, I’m never going to shuck another ear of corn or slop another pig or muck another stall or churn butter or—”
    Theo laughed. “Who is this very, very rich man you vill marry?”
    “I’m going to Chicago, Theo.” She spoke softly, looking away from the hurt in his eyes. She couldn’t tell him she was leaving next week. Theo had the power to make her change her mind. “And after that, New York. And then I’ll study art and fashion in Paris.”
    His chin rose suddenly. Wide eyes turned on her. “France?”
    “Of course, France. I’m part French, you know.”
    “You are part Chippewa. Why not go live on a reservation for adventure?” He picked up a chunk of sandstone and chucked it down the hill.
    “Come with me.” Her voice rose just barely above a whisper.
    He stood. “God has called me to India, Francine. You have known that for years.” He turned his back and spoke over his shoulder. “And I believe, with all my heart, that He has called you to be a missionary’s wife.”

C HAPTER 5
    E van steered Agatha away from Dani’s apartment on Saturday afternoon. “Are you sure about this?”
    “No.” She turned to the second page in the diary. “Listen to this.”
    “You’re sidetracking.”
    “I’m not. You’ll see. It’s actually kind of a setup for what we’re doing.” She angled the book toward the window. “‘January 11, 1924. Massive snow last night. Drifts to the top of the chicken coop. Storms are bad for business. No