Chesapeake Tide Read Online Free PDF Page B

no less, a self-absorbed, shallow shell of a boy-man who lived in the imagination of the moment pretending to be someone other than himself, traits that did not lend themselves to his settling into being a serious marriage partner.
    Cole sat beside her, relaxed, back curved, elbows on his knees, one hand under his chin, lean, flat-bellied, with all his original hair. He wasn’t a man given to excesses. He rarely drank, never smoked and ate only to fill the emptiness in his stomach. He was as different from Eric Richards as a man could be. Women were supposed to marry men like their fathers. Nola Ruth would have liked to see Libba marry someone like Cole, only more ambitious. She would have liked her daughter to be appreciated, even treasured.
    â€œDo you still blame me for her leaving us?” he asked.
    To be kind or to be truthful, that was the question. She decided on honesty. “Not directly.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œYou didn’t send her out the door, Cole. She brought Eric home. She was attracted to him. You were as unhappy about it as I was. We pushed her away with our disapproval. I let her go because I wanted her to come home on her own. I didn’t want history to repeat itself. Neither of us can help what we are.”
    He looked surprised. “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”
    She shrugged, a ragged painful lifting of one shoulder. “She’s coming home. That’s all that’s important.”
    Coleson Delacourte struggled within himself. She could see it in the folding skin between his eyebrows, in the tense line of his jaw and the rigid set of his shoulders. “She’s a thirty-seven-year-old single mother with a Ph.D. in biochemistry. What in the hell will she do with herself in Marshyhope Creek?” he asked at last.
    Nola Ruth frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
    â€œWho will she talk to? I can’t think of a single woman her age in this town who’s done what she has.”
    â€œWomen are different, Coleson. She’ll do fine. This is Libba’s home. She’ll find her place.”
    A shadow darkened the blinding brightness of the walkway, diverting their attention. A small, cocoa-skinned woman carrying a basket hobbled toward them.
    Nola Ruth stiffened. “It’s Drusilla Washington trying to pawn off more of her vegetables.” She gripped her husband’s arm. “Send her on her way, Coleson. I don’t want her to see me like this. We don’t need anything from her.”
    Cole frowned. “What’s gotten into you, Nola? She’s a harmless old woman. I’ll send her around the back. Maybe Serena needs something for dinner.”
    Nola Ruth closed her eyes and turned her head away. Her grip on her husband’s sleeve relaxed. She pretended the woman wasn’t there.
    â€œGood evenin’, Mr. Delacourte, Miz Delacourte.” The old woman nodded her head and offered up the basket. “I grew me a fine crop of sweet potato plants, tasty as they come. Serena might like to stir some into a pie or two if you’re thinking of company.”
    Nola Ruth willed her hands to stay motionless. There was no point in asking how she knew Libba was coming home. Drusilla always knew everybody’s business.
    Cole rose, lifted the towel and looked into the basket. “They look good, Drusilla. Go on around to the kitchen and tell Serena to buy up the whole bunch.”
    The black woman grunted and smiled. Her gums were black and one front tooth was missing. “You won’t be sorry, Mr. Delacourte.” She turned and shuffled toward the back of the house. “Verna Lee says hello.”
    â€œTell her I’ll be in for some more of that tea. It helps me sleep like a baby.”
    â€œI’ll do that, sir. She got some healing potion for you, too, Miz Delacourte. I’ll bring it next time I come.”
    Nola Ruth waited until she was sure the woman was barely