Cassandra Austin Read Online Free PDF Page B

the shade of the cart. Her dog’s defection rankled as much as the sheriffs interference. Muttering to herself, she found a hammer and knocked two short boards off a stall divider that she never used. With the old nails, she fashioned theboards into a cross. It wasn’t much, but it went with the cross at her mother’s grave.
    By the time she returned, Haywood had made considerable progress. It would have taken her forever to dig the grave. She would bite her tongue off before she admitted it to Haywood, though. She leaned the cross against the cart and sat down under the apple tree near Royal. Haywood didn’t seem to notice that she had returned.
    It was impossible to watch him work and not see the play of muscles across his back and shoulders as he broke dirt loose with the spade and tossed it aside with the shovel. A strong back like that could have the barn roof mended in no time, she thought. If the man felt guilty about Pa, maybe she shouldn’t discourage him. All manner of odd jobs came to mind, and she bit her lip to keep from grinning.
    With Pa gone, the farm was all she had. Somehow, she would keep what was left of it and survive with it alone. The weather was warm for September, but she knew there wouldn’t be many more days before frost. She couldn’t help feeling regret and resentment for the days she had wasted while she dreamed of rescuing Pa.
    She tried to shake such thoughts away by concentrating on her future. She had yet to dig the potatoes, and, after the first frost, she would have to carry all the pumpkins and squash into her cellar. The hayloft would be a better place to store some of these things but the roof leaked. She watched Haywood’s muscles flex as he shoved the spade into the dark earth, and imagined the roof repaired.
    Besides harvesting her garden produce, she would have to chop enough wood to last through the winter.She watched Haywood send another shovelful of dirt onto the pile. It was easy to picture him replenishing her woodpile.
    Somehow, watching him too closely made her stomach nervous and her cheeks warm. Deliberately, she pulled her thoughts back to her plans.
    She needed to put up as many jars of tomatoes from her neglected patch as she could. The money she made selling her pies and bread paid for flour, sugar and a few other supplies, but mostly she had to live through the winter on what she saved from the garden.
    Cally was used to hard work and deciding upon a plan felt better than the persistent hopelessness of the weeks since Pa’s arrest. In a way, she knew life would be easier. Pa, bless him, wasn’t really much help. Cally scolded herself for the disloyal thought. Poor Pa was right beside her!
    Haywood’s shirt had become soaked with sweat, defining those useful muscles even more. Yes, her best bet was to humor the sheriff and play on his guilt as long as it lasted. With that in mind, she scrambled to her feet. She walked to the well and brought back a tin cup full of water. She didn’t speak but stood in front of Haywood until he looked up.
    He eyed her speculatively.
    “It ain’t poisoned,” she said, thrusting the cup toward him.
    “Thanks,” he murmured. He tried to hide a grin as he brought the cup to his lips.
    That grin made Cally furious. Her one act of kindness was suspect! Well, sure, it was more an act of encouragement than kindness, but he wasn’t supposedto see it that way. Shoot! It was hard to be nice to this man! Maybe the barn roof wasn’t worth it.
    He handed the empty cup to her, and she snatched it out of his hand. She couldn’t stay here and watch him anymore. Waiting for him to dig the grave was worse than digging it herself. She stomped back to the well and hung up the cup. At the house she took her bucket from its hook on the side of the house and went to the garden.
    With a sigh she surveyed the tomatoes. Lately she had been picking only what she wanted to eat. “There are more rotten ones than good ones,” she said to Royal