After the Frost Read Online Free PDF

desperation in his voice. "What else can we do? We can't—"
    The sound of Sarah's footsteps pounding down the stairs stopped him, and Rand swiveled in his chair, looking toward the doorway to see his daughter burst into the kitchen, clutching Janey, the headless doll. She skidded to a stop just in front of him, and it was as if she brought sunshine into the room.
    "I'm gonna be a monster now," she declared, shaking back her head and baring her teeth. "An' everyone has to do what I say, or I will—eat them."
    "You will, huh?" He smiled. "Well, I'll show you what we do to monsters here—" and before she could move, Rand lunged forward, grabbing her and pulling her to him, burying his face in her neck and feeling her warm, wiggly vibrance clear into his bones.
    Sarah giggled in his arms, a pure, happy sound that made her whole body squirm. "Papa!" she said. "You're s'posed to be scared of me!"
    "Oh, I am scared." He pulled away, making a face. "See? I'm shaking."
    Sarah roared, curling her fingers in pretend claws and launching herself forward to bite his neck. "I've got you forever!" she declared. "You can't escape!"
    He threw a glance at Lillian over Sarah's head, saw her watching them with a small, satisfied smile, and Rand closed his eyes.
          "Papa!" Sarah protested. "You're s'posed to be screamin'. I've got you!"
          "You sure do, Little Bit," he said slowly, feeling desperation and fear and longing sink inside him. He buried his face in her hair, held her tight. "You've got me."

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
     
          O rgan music was swelling from the open doors of the Salem Church by the time Rand finally maneuvered the buckboard into the yard. They were late. The morning had been filled with little frustrations —not the least of which was Sarah's sulking about her new haircut—and he was exhausted. Too exhausted even to look up when Lillian grabbed her woolen shawl and climbed from the seat. She gripped the splintery gray wagonside and leaned over Sarah, who was a ball of blue gingham in the corner. Her voice held the sharp edge of impatience. "Sarah, come along, now, you'll miss Sunday school."
    "I don't wanna go. I look like a boy."
    "I've had about enough of this, young lady." Lillian's voice brittled with exasperation. "Come along."
    "No." Sarah stamped her foot against the floor. The wagon shook. "I look like a boy!"
    His daughter's voice shrieked in his ears, making Rand's head pound, and he looked up wearily. "No, you don't, Sarah. Do as your grandma says. Please."
    Sarah didn't budge. Her sunbonnet was hanging uselessly around her neck, her fingers clenched Janey. Her face was set in a look he knew well—too well. She was prepared to sit there all morning.
    Not today , he prayed silently, uselessly. Please, God, not today .
    Rand rubbed his eyes. The prayer didn't help, just as he'd known it wouldn't. Sarah's expression didn't change. Damn, he was too tired to deal with this today. He tried to ignore the pain in his head as he climbed down from the seat and went to her. "Come on, Little Bit," he cajoled impatiently. "You're the one who wanted your braids cut off. You liked it last night. Remember?"
    Her lower lip protruded farther. "I thought it would come back. You said it would."
    "It will," he said wearily. "It just takes awhile to grow."
    "I want it back now!"
    "Sarah—"
    Rand silenced Lillian with a look and turned back to his daughter. He held out his hand. "Come on."
    Sarah threw him a tentative glance, and then she shook her head. "I don't want to."
    Christ, what he wouldn't give for a few hours of sleep. For a moment Rand toyed with the idea of climbing back in the wagon and going home, but a quick glance at Lillian put an end to that idea. She and Sarah were in a test of wills—again. His stepmother was prepared to stand there until dark if she had to. Once again she was expecting him to be on her side.
    And once again he was somewhere in the middle.
    Rand sighed.