Dorothy Garlock Read Online Free PDF Page A

and down in such a way that she fought the urge to cross her arms protectively over her chest. Her hair had come loose from the pins again. She lifted her arms to poke the errant strands in place, not realizing how the movement outlined her firm, high breasts, and not seeing the man’s eyes flick down to them.
    Owen Jamison also noticed Ana’s trim waist, the soft skin of her face and neck, and the resentment in the eyes that stared back at him.
    “Did you bring me a pretty, Owen?” The whining voice of the woman in the chair broke the silence. “What’s she got in the trunk?”
    “Mind me, Hettie. Take her upstairs.”
    The man in the overalls came in and the door slammed behind him. He stood leaning against the doorjamb, his hands still in the bib. His hair was iron gray, his face lined. His faded eyes, once as blue as Owen’s, watched the scene with interest.
    “Esther won’t like it,” Hettie said stubbornly.
    “Gowdamighty! Don’t you ever do anything you’re told to do without arguing about it?”
    The trunk hit the floor with a loud thump.
    Hettie burst into tears.

 
     
Three

    O wen
took the lamp from the kitchen table and motioned for Ana to follow. She hurried after him, noting that he limped even more than he had in Lansing. They passed down a narrow hallway to a door at the end. Owen flung it open and handed Ana the lamp.
    “She’s up there.” He turned on his heel, and left her.
    Ana went up the steep stairway holding her skirt up with one hand and the lamp in the other. The upper hall was as narrow as the lower one. A light shone from beneath a door at the far end. Ana’s heels on the wooden floor echoed as she hurried down the hall and pushed open the door.
    The room was dimly lit, but what Ana saw caused her eyes to go wide with surprise and horror. Harriet lay writhing on the bed. Her hands were tied to the iron bedstead above her head. A rag was tied over her mouth. The girl’s eyes rolled with crazed terror. A woman in a black, high-necked, long-sleeved dress stood beside the bed, her arms folded across her flat bosom. She jerked around to face Ana.
    “Who are you? What are you doing here?” The woman’s hair was parted in the middle and slicked back into a knot at the back of her head. Her face was sharp and bony, and her ears large.
    “I’m Harriet’s mother,” Ana said in a no-nonsense voice, setting the lamp on the washstand and hurrying to Harriet’s bedside. “Oh, honey—” Her nervous fingers began to work at the knot tied in the rag holding the gag in place.
    “Stop that!” The woman’s heavy hand came down on Ana’s shoulder. “If she can’t keep quiet, the gag stays.”
    Ana reared up in surprise. Her arm went flying out across the woman’s chest, shoving her back.
    “Get your hands off me! I’ve never heard of such inhumane treatment in all my life. If you don’t want to hear her screams, get out!”
    “It’s disgraceful the way she’s been carrying on.”
    “You’d carry on, too, if your body was being torn apart. Now stay out of my way.” Ana had never been so close to hitting anyone in her life.
    The instant Ana pulled the rag from Harriet’s mouth a powerful contraction shook her. She let out an agonizing scream as pain took over her body and mind.
    “See what I mean? It ain’t decent.”
    “M-ma . . . ma! M-ma . . . ma!” Harriet rolled her head on the pillow while Ana worked to loosen the bonds that held her arms above her head.
    “I’m here, honey. I’m here,” Ana crooned.
    “M-ma . . . ma! M-ma . . . ma!” Harriet’s eyes, glazed with pain, looked right through Ana without seeing her. Her face was white and slick with perspiration.
    “My word!” Ana gasped when she threw back the covers to lift Harriet’s legs and bend them at the knees. The girl lay on an oilcloth in a puddle of blood, water and excrement. A stench arose that almost choked Ana. She looked into the dark, glittering eyes of the woman who stood like a black