Well of Secrets by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn [Galenorn, Yasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw
Tags: Temp
Published: 2021-05-11T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

While Harlow made lunch, I told Joe about what had happened. A shadow of worry fell across his face. I kissed him on the lips.

“I’m all right, truly,” I said.

“I know, but you could have been killed.”

As James and Joe began to discuss what might be down in the well, I crossed the kitchen to where Harlow was making a salad to go with our soup and sandwiches. I took over grating the carrots. We were far enough away from the guys and they were immersed enough in their conversation so that if I spoke softly, they wouldn’t hear us.

“Joe has to go out with us to see the well. He needs to be part of what we’re doing,” I said, trying to avoid grating my knuckles along with the vegetables.

James turned around. “We’ve decided to take Em and Joe’s van out there when Murray and Jimbo get here. We’ll need to schlep ladders and ropes and lights, as well.”

I paused for a moment, wondering if they had heard me, but I knew they hadn’t. Sometimes coincidence was just that. And I realized that Joe didn’t look depressed at all. Had I projected feelings onto him? It was a disconcerting thought, but entirely possible.

“Fine, that sounds good,” I said, glancing at Harlow, who gave me a little shrug.

She opened several cans of chunky chicken soup and poured them in a pan, adding water, and then setting the soup to heat. “Turkey and ham sandwiches sound good?”

I nodded. “Yeah, why don’t we just put all the fixings on the table and then people can make them however they want.”

“That’s a good idea. Let’s see,” she handed me a tray and opened the fridge. “Turkey breast, sliced ham, cheddar, provolone, Swiss…mustard, mayo—”

“Ketchup,” I added.

She shook her head, grinning. “You and your ketchup. All right, ketchup. Lettuce and sliced tomatoes. Avocado—”

“Are we making sandwiches or are you just trying to clean out your refrigerator?” I snorted. “Butter. I’m not a huge fan of mayo.”

“Butter…that should do.” She slid the butter dish into one last little open space on the tray and I carried the precariously balanced pile o’ food over to the table, where James jumped up to take it from me. He set it down and Joe began to spread the food out on the table. I returned to Harlow for the dishes. She handed me a stack of six plates, then placed six bowls atop the plates.

“Enough. I know how expensive your wedding china was and I do not want to wipe out half of it if I stumble.” I winked at her.

Harlow laughed. “I don’t care. Good china is meant to be used, not just admired, so we’re using it.” She went back to stirring the soup and added a handful of herbs and spices to it, to give it a homemade touch.

The doorbell rang and James went to answer it. Joe helped me sort out the plates and bowls, and Harlow brought over silverware and a tray full of glasses, along with juice and milk.

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