Daughter of Twin Oaks by Lauraine Snelling

Author:Lauraine Snelling
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2000-03-24T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Gordonsville, Kentucky

It can’t be him. It can’t be.

Jesselynn took the stairs to the store in a rush, checking herself before bursting through the door. Don’t call attention to yourself. Take it easy. Thank God those two old men are gone. She pushed the door open to the sound of the bell tinkling above her and crossed the store to stand behind a woman wearing a dark shawl and chatting at the counter with the proprietor.

“Land sakes, you’d think they would know better, don’t you think?”

“Yes, ma’am, I agree.” He tied a string around her brown paper parcel. “Will there be anything else?”

Jesselynn almost grabbed the packet by the string and the woman by the arm and threw them out the door. What if indeed that man in the saloon was Dunlivey and he walked in here right this minute? What could she do?

She shifted from one foot to the other and cleared her throat.

The woman turned, gave her a dirty look, then shaking her head, picked up her package. “Thank you, Mister Charbonneau, and greet your dear wife for me. I do hope she is feelin’ better soon.”

Oh, please, just hurry and leave. Jesselynn could feel someone drilling holes in her back. Surely he was right behind her. But she knew no one had come in after her; the bell hung silent. But knowing and feeling had nothing to do with each other right now. Maybe she should have just left the order and headed out.

“I will do that. Thank you, and good day, Missus Levinger. I’ll let you know when your order arrives.”

Fine, good, now go.

The woman started to turn, checked herself, and leaned back across the counter. “You heard about …” Her voice dropped to a whisper that even Jesselynn couldn’t hear, not that she wanted to. Sweat drizzled down her back.

The woman was shaking her head again. “Well, I better get on home and get some supper on the table.”

Yes, your family is starving and your house is burning.

Missus Levinger gave her a baleful stare as if she’d been listening in on Jesselynn’s thoughts, sniffed, and sailed out the doorway.

“Kin I help you? Oh yes, the young man with the order. I surely do hope there was no one on the casualty list that you knew.” While he talked, he set her supplies on the counter and motioned to the white tow sack. “I saw that you rode in, so this will be easier for you to carry.”

“Thank you.” She kept from looking over her shoulder through sheer muscle-cramping determination. Digging her ten-dollar gold piece out of her pocket, she laid it on the counter.

“That’ll be one dollar and seventeen cents, please.” He took the coin and, turning to the cash register, pulled out Confederate dollars and change.

“Could I have that all in silver or gold, please?”

He looked at her over the tops of his glasses, raised an eyebrow, and went back for the change. “If you want a job, young man, you could come work for me anytime.

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