Buried Secrets by Barbara Cameron

Author:Barbara Cameron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gilead Publishing
Published: 2018-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Rose woke early the day before Luke was expected back. Never one to lie abed when there was work to be done, she got up and dressed. She peeked into Daniel’s room and saw he was still asleep, his quilt made of his dat’s shirts tucked up under his chin.

Tiptoeing down the stairs—avoiding the creaky step—she went to the kitchen. She loved her sohn and he was a gut one, but how she cherished that first cup of coffee and a quiet half hour to herself. It was as golden a time as the shorter and shorter period in the afternoon when he napped.

She filled the percolator and set it on the stove. A pan of water went on another burner for oatmeal. Soon the kitchen was filled with the burble of water and the scent of coffee. She poured oatmeal into the pan and stirred it before she turned down the flame and set the timer. The moment the coffee stopped perking she poured a cup and sat down with it.

Dawn light filtered through the kitchen window. She wondered when Luke would board the bus to return to Lancaster County. Then, once again, she wondered if he would return. Family was so important. Who knew better than her? As much as she had come to depend on him, as much as she needed him to help with the farm, she couldn’t blame him if he stayed. She wouldn’t blame him.

She’d just never forgive herself for telling him he should go. She put her head in her hands and called herself a fool for the hundredth time.

Something made her look up. A cardinal sat in the window and peered at her. She wondered if it was looking for breakfast. She and Daniel had filled the feeders yesterday. Thinking of him, she glanced at the clock. He was usually up by now. She rose, stirred the oatmeal, and turned off the timer before it could buzz.

And glanced out the window. The bird had flown away. Funny, she didn’t remember seeing one hang around the yard so much when she was growing up.

She had time for a second cup of coffee before Daniel came downstairs rubbing his eyes, his hair standing up in spikes.

“Hungerich, Mamm,” he told her as he climbed into her lap.

All God’s creatures were hungerich this morning, she thought as she remembered the bird. “I made oatmeal for you.”

“Mmm.”

She kissed the top of his head. “I can get it for you if you get into your chair.”

He gave her a hug, then slid down and went to his chair. She fixed him a bowl the way he liked it: with a spoonful of brown sugar and raisins and milk. Her own bowl got a spoonful of brown sugar and milk.

And so they started another day with a simple breakfast, just the two of them. It was another ordinary day, a slower-paced one now that winter had them in its thrall.

An hour later she was cleaning up the kitchen and Daniel sat coloring at the kitchen table when there was a knock on the back door.

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