St. John, Cheryl by Prairie Wife

Author:Prairie Wife
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-09T05:26:57+00:00

Chapter Eight

The room was warm and cozy, a fire flickered in the grate. Cay was a bright young man and already read well, but he needed help with numbers. Amy was pleased with the effort he made and with how well he remembered their teaching.

As the evening stretched out, Amy made hot cocoa. Jesse had taken to pacing the room like a trapped cougar. He used the poker to stab at the fire when it didn't need tending, then stood over Amy where she sat on the floor beside Cay. She looked up and tried to interpret his mood.

He had run his hands through his hair so many times, it stood up in wild disarray. He hadn't shaved that day, and the shadow of his beard lent him a dispirited appearance.

After another half hour of him pacing and torturing the burning logs, she closed the book she and Cay had been looking at. "Cay's been yawning. Jesse, why don't you light the lamp in his room while I put these things away?"

She picked up the books and slates and carried their mugs to the kitchen.

Minutes later, Jesse's boots sounded on the stairs. She turned to find him standing on the other side of the kitchen.

"Would you like coffee or anything?"

He shook his head.

She set a kettle on the table. "Would you mind bringing me water? I'm going to soak beans for tomorrow."

Without bothering to grab his jacket, he picked up the pan and headed out the back door. When he returned he set the full pan on the back of the stove, then took a seat at the table.

Amy went to the pantry for beans and just as she returned, the back door banged shut. "Jesse?"

After pouring the beans into the kettle and adding salt, she placed the lid on top, then took a wrap from a hook. His erratic behavior this evening had been disturbing, and she hadn't figured out what was bothering him. Grabbing the lantern from the table, she followed.

Moonlight illuminated the front of the boardinghouse. Stepping off the back porch onto the board walkway, she glimpsed Jesse carrying something to the barn, Biscuit running at his heels. The door opened, then closed man and dog inside. If Jesse'd gone to do last-minute chores, she would feel silly for following him, but something unexplainable drew her.

She reached the barn and let herself inside. The scents of animals and hay were familiar, but the sound she heard wasn't. Jesse cursing.

Amy hurried her steps.

He was in the tack room, just rising after having bent to pick up a crate. She'd seen a similar crate before, the night he'd cut his hand and sent her to fetch whiskey.

"What are you doing?"

He carried his burden past her. "I have something to take care of."

Biscuit tagged along, tail wagging.

Again she followed Jesse, this time out the back and across the dark yard to a stand of young maple trees on the slope that led down to the creek.

There was already one crate on the ground, and he placed the second one beside it.

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