Letters From My Sister by Valerie Fraser Luesse

Author:Valerie Fraser Luesse [Valerie Fraser Luesse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Christian fiction;FIC042030;FIC042000;FIC044000
ISBN: 9780800741600
Amazon: 0800741609
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2023-08-14T23:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Callie had fallen back to sleep after talking with her mother and Emmy. She didn’t stir again till the next day. But now she was wide awake and felt like herself for the first time since the accident—whatever it was.

Sitting up slowly, she gingerly touched her head, feeling a smaller bandage than before. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, cautiously stood up, and made sure she could balance before walking to the window and looking out on a beautiful fall day. To her surprise, the sun lay low in the sky. She had expected morning.

At the washstand, Callie poured a basin full of water and bathed as best she could. A tub bath would have to wait. She put on a powder-yellow cotton dress and gathered her hair over one shoulder, tying it with a ribbon just as she had done the day she met Solomon on the creekbank. Or did she? Callie didn’t trust her own memory right now.

Reaching down for her shoes made the room spin. Her head felt light, and a dark tunnel began to close in around her. She grabbed hold of the bedpost to steady herself while her head cleared and the darkness dissipated. Shoes and stockings would have to wait for a better day. Opening the bedroom door, she stepped barefoot into the central hallway of the house and followed voices to the front porch.

“There’s my girl,” her father said as he came to her and gently put his arms around her. “How are we feeling, Miss Callie?”

She smiled up at him. “Much better now, Daddy. I think I’ve had enough of the Rip Van Winkle life.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Come on over and join us.”

Her parents were sitting on the front porch with Solomon, who stood up from the porch swing when he saw her. His brow was furrowed as his eyes darted from the bandage on her head to her hands, to her bare feet peeking from beneath her skirt, and finally back up to her eyes—perhaps assuring himself that all the pieces were there.

Callie’s mother came and kissed her on both cheeks. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Callie?”

“I’m ready, Mama.”

“Come over to the swing. I’m sure Solomon won’t mind sharing.”

“Not at all.” He steadied the swing for Callie and held her hand as she sat down.

“Do you feel surefooted?” her mother asked, standing next to Callie’s father.

“Barefooted but surefooted,” Callie said, slightly lifting one foot.

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You would never get away with that if I weren’t so relieved that you’re up and around. Since you’re in good hands here, I’ll go and see how Hepsy’s coming with supper. You need some solid, nourishing food to get your strength back. Solomon, I’m so glad you could join us.”

“Thank you, Miss Aurelia,” he said. Callie noticed the shift from “Mrs. Bullock” to the more familiar “Miss Aurelia” and wondered how that came about.

Callie’s mother touched her father’s shoulder. “Ira, would you be good enough to help me?”

“Right behind you.

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