Whiskers of the Lion by P. L. Gaus

Author:P. L. Gaus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2015-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

• • •

When Fannie returned to the parlor, the professor asked her, “Fannie, is someone other than Teresa Molina trying to find you?”

Fannie sat down beside Reuben again and said, “Just a friend.”

“Will you tell us who that was?” Branden asked.

“I don’t want to. It was just a friend.”

“There may be a lot of bad people looking for you,” Branden said. “More than just Teresa Molina.”

“This was a good friend,” Fannie said. She passed an annoyed glance to Reuben. “She just calls to chat, so I don’t think it’s anything you should take an interest in.”

Branden looked to Caroline, arched a brow, and turned back to Fannie. Careful not to upset her further with his tone, Branden said gently, “OK, Fannie, but now perhaps you could think about the FBI. The sheriff wants you to go into their protective custody, and they will probably be getting here in the next couple of hours.”

Broadcasting nervous anxiety, Fannie popped off her Shaker chair and paced in the center of the room. The professor stood, too, and held out Sheriff Robertson’s letter. “Please, Fannie,” he said. “At least read what the sheriff wrote to you. Then if you don’t like any of this, we can talk about it.”

“And what?” Fannie demanded in place. “Do it my way? Do what I want? Well, I want Howie back! Tell that to the sheriff!”

Caroline and Irma rose together. Reuben Gingerich stood and tried to embrace Fannie. With her hands raised, palms out, Fannie held them off. “Just tell me what’s in the letter!” she shouted into the room. “What in the world does he want from me, now that Howie is dead?”

Softly, Irma said, “Fannie, at least you could read what he has written to you. Maybe that’s not asking too much.”

“Why can’t anybody just tell me what’s in the stupid letter?” Fannie argued, clenching her fists. “What’s so hard about that?”

Caroline answered, “None of us has read it, Fannie.”

Irma reached out for Fannie’s elbow. “Please sit down. You’re angry.”

Reuben sat back on his chair and said, “‘Be ye not angry,’ Fannie. You know this as well as anyone.”

Startled, Fannie spun around to Reuben. She formed a reply with the leanings of a snarl, but she did not speak it. She looked to Irma, and Irma nodded her agreement with Reuben as she sat back down next to her husband. Abel had held to his seat on the deacon’s bench, staring sadly at the floorboards while Fannie fumed.

Caroline reclaimed her seat, and the professor sat again, too. In the middle of the room, Fannie stood alone with soft tears spilling from her eyes. She looked long at her fiancé, wrestling with a tangle of anxieties that showed plainly in the mix of her expressions. She struggled for a moment and then seemed to acquire some degree of resolution. When she sat next to Reuben, she said simply and serenely, “I am sorry, Reuben.”

He took her hand into his lap without replying.

Fannie sat with her head bowed

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