Killing Gifts Read Online Free PDF Page A

florist’s shop with Grady’s sister, lived in a boardinghouse for young women, and spent her off hours with Grady and his people. Gennie straightened her shoulders and lifted her small chin. She needed this trip, and nothing would stop her from taking it.
    â€œI’m fine now,” she said, handing Grady his overcoat. “Come on, let’s look around. Isn’t this the most beautiful place?”
    â€œIt’s almost time to meet Rose,” Grady said, without enthusiasm. “Let me just pick up a Cincinnati Enquirer , since we’re here.” They’d paused near a kiosk that sold newspapers, magazines, cigars, and cigarettes. “Pick a couple of magazines, Gen. It’s a long train ride.”
    Though she thought she’d be perfectly happy watching the countryside breeze by, Gennie picked up the latest editions of the Ladies Home Journal and The American Home . Might as well find out what she could look forward to as a married woman. Since the age of ten until just over a year ago, she had been living in a community where men and women slept, ate, and worked separately, joining one another only for worship—and for Union Meetings, where they could chat while sitting several feet across from each other. She’d missed the training most girls got growing up in a worldly home. Sometimes, when she was talking with her new girlfriends, she felt about twelve years old. Other times she felt much older than she was.
    Gennie stowed her purchases in her satchel as Grady paid the wizened old man sitting on a stool inside the kiosk. While she waited, she opened another magazine at random to an ad showing a woman in a figure-hugging dress with slightly puffed sleeves. The model lounged in a chair, smoking a Camel. A few pages later, several brides in close-fitting satin wedding gowns admired an ornate set of sterling silver dinnerware. This was too much for Gennie. The Shakers had taught her the value of simplicity, and the picture seemed cruel in times like these, when so many had so little. She flipped the magazine shut. As she returned it to its display shelf, a man hurried up to the kiosk and bumped Grady’s shoulder in his haste. Grady dropped his change, and both men bent down to retrieve it. Their backs were to Gennie.
    The man leaned toward Grady and mumbled something that must have been an apology, because Grady smiled, and said, “No harm down. Don’t give it a thought.” Gennie felt a rush of warmth. Grady was such a gentleman, so polite, even to clumsy strangers. The man nodded once and turned to go on his way. Gennie’s chest tightened as she saw his face. He was the same man who’d had a leisurely smoke and watched Grady and her embrace.
    Now was the time to tell Grady her fears, but still she resisted. All sorts of people lived in the world, and some of them were men with less than honorable intentions. This man might be one such. Perhaps he had listened to their conversation and knew that Grady would not accompany her on her journey. He might not know about Rose’s existence. What if he had selected Gennie for some evil purpose of his own? Would she be worldly enough to handle him? Well, I’ll just have to be, that’s all. I’m going on this trip, and that’s that! She decided not to mention the incidents to Rose, either. No point in causing her worry.
    When they reached the ticket booth, they found Rose waiting on a wooden bench, one arm draped over the satchel next to her. She looked like a visitor from the previous century. Her long, loose dress and hooded cloak might have gone unnoticed, but the palm sugar-scoop bonnet over her thin, white indoor cap gave her away. The clothing of passersby ranged from smart to worn, but they all stared. Rose seemed oblivious. Gennie was willing to bet that the book on her lap was a copy of the Testimonies of Mother Ann Lee , the Shaker foundress. Rose hadn’t been an eldress for very