Golden Dreams by Darlene Franklin

Author:Darlene Franklin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

What a difference a week had made, Winnie mused as she walked to the kitchen to use the phone. Life and death, love and loss—the children had bounced back quickly. Howie seemed the most distressed at the loss of baby Evelyn, visiting the new grave a couple of times. Betty stayed content, helping Clarinda with the surviving twin. Wrapped in warm red flannel, Anita looked like the baby Jesus might have looked in his bundling clothes. Each time her strong cries woke Winnie during the night, she said a prayer of thanks for a living, breathing baby, able to demand that her needs be met.

As busy as the week had been, Winnie had missed her daily routine. Even more than the hugs of the children from the soup kitchen, she had missed the hours with Frank. She hadn’t heard from any of the Sawtelles all week, which surprised her.

When Winnie reached the kitchen, she found Clarinda on the phone. Cupping her hand over the receiver, her sister asked, “Do you need the phone?”

“I need to tell Preston to expect me in the morning.”

Clarinda’s mouth pursed in the small pout that accompanied any mention of Winnie’s skating, but she nodded.

Winnie took her place at the kitchen table and picked up the Sunday paper, checking to see if the crossword puzzle had been completed yet. Of course it was, but someone had thoughtfully erased the words so someone else could try her hand at it. The first clue, for a three-letter word for “temple student,” would take some thinking. She would look at the first “down” clue to see if she could get the first letter. A four-letter word for “where cookies might crumble.” Mouth, except that had too many letters. Hmm, four letters. Oh, oven. That wasn’t bad. That made the first letter for “temple student” an O.

While she was contemplating a four-letter word for “unaccompanied,” Clarinda hung up the phone.

“Do you need to call anyone else?” Winnie held her breath, hoping she would say no. Talking with Preston was almost as good as showing up at the rink in the morning.

The phone rang several times before Preston picked up. “Ayuh.”

Preston was short, as usual. No one had drilled telephone manners into him, unlike the graduates of the Maple Notch Female Seminary. Finch residence, Winnie Tuttle speaking.

“Preston, it’s Winnie. I plan on coming back to the mill in the morning. I wanted to let you know, in case Frank doesn’t call.”

“Huh.” Coming from Preston, the single word could signify anything from assent to an objection.

“That is, of course, unless you can’t accommodate us.” What if he couldn’t? She reminded herself of what a blessing the year-round rink was. Few towns in the United States had such a facility, let alone small communities such as Maple Notch.

“No, I don’t have a problem. But have you talked with Frank since last Sunday?”

“No.” The breath left Winnie’s chest. Had something happened?

“You go on over to the Sawtelle farm. There’s things goin’ on, and it’s not my place to tell.

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