The Longest Road by Jeanne Williams

Author:Jeanne Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 2016-03-08T05:00:00+00:00

16

The first evening Way was gone, Clem drove Laurie and Buddy home from the Redwine House. “Reckon I could have a cup of coffee?” he drawled as Buddy escaped with a whoop to join Billy and the other boys. “This sharp weather’s nibblin’ at my bones.”

“I’ll have a cup, too,” said Laurie, though she didn’t much like coffee. Clem never came in like this; he was doing it so the house wouldn’t feel so lonesome.

“No lock on the door?” asked Clem as Laurie opened it and led the way in.

“When the walls are thin enough to kick in, locks aren’t much use.” She’d left the guitar on her cot that morning. When she saw it, her heart leaped. She wanted to hold it, listen to the strings. Suddenly she wasn’t fearful or anxious and almost wished Clem hadn’t come in so she could right away practice the way Marilys had suggested that day. Marilys said not to bring the guitar to the hotel—Mr. Redwine was upset about it—but she, Marilys, would come over when she could and teach Laurie. Turning to laugh up at Clem, Laurie added, “Anyhow, folks in Sludge Town may live in shacks and tents but they don’t steal or break into each other’s homes.”

“Guess not,” chuckled Clem. “Takes a higher type of society to do that.”

He got the heater going while she lit a burner on the cook-stove, set on the coffeepot, and got out sugar and evaporated milk. They had a companionable cup of coffee, hers mostly milk.

“The Harrises know your Grandpa’s away?” Clem asked as he rose to leave.

Laurie nodded. “Mrs. Harris promised to keep an eye out for us and she said we could come stay with them anytime we want.”

“Then I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.” Clem grinned. “You can quit fidgetin’ now, Larry, and get at that guitar.”

He left, chuckling. Laurie blushed at being so transparent but the second the door closed, she had the guitar in her arms.

It was strange that night to eat supper without Way, and worse to get ready for bed. Laurie debated about leaving a lamp burning but since there were no curtains, that would let any passerby see in, and it was foolish to increase the risk of fire in the flimsy building. No, the best thing was to turn off the heater, blow out the lamp, and go to bed as usual.

Only it wasn’t usual. She had got out of the habit of saying her prayers at night. The God she had grown up fearing while trying to love didn’t seem very real since she’d left Prairieville. In the dark, kneeling beside her cot, she prayed that night, but her asking that Way be all right and that she and Buddy would be safe till morning seemed to reach no higher than the Sheetrock ceiling and mockingly return.

The guitar leaned against the cot. She had the harmonica beneath her pillow. Holding it, she fixed her thoughts on Morrigan. If they met again, wouldn’t he

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