Morning Glory Read Online Free PDF

winced.
    She thought it was because of what she’d said, but it’d take some time before she’d trust him in the house nights. And besides, she might be crazy, but she wasn’t loose.
    “Nights are plenty warm. I’ll make you a shakedown out there.”
    He nodded silently, fingering the brim of his hat as if anxious to put it back on.
    She told her older son, “Go fetch Daddy’s pillow, Donald Wade.” The little boy hugged her shyly, staring at Will. She reached for his hand. “Come along, we’ll get it together.”
    Will watched them leave, hand in hand, and felt an ache in his gut that had nothing to do with green apples.
    When Eleanor returned to the kitchen, Will Parker was gone. Thomas was still in his high chair, discontented now that his biscuit was gone. She experienced a curious stab of disappointment—he’d run away.
    Well, what did you expect?
    Then, from outside she heard the sound of retching. The sun had gone behind the pines, taking its light with it. Eleanor stepped onto the sagging back stoop and heard him vomiting. “You stay inside, Donald Wade.” She pushed the boy back and closed the screen door. Though he started crying, she ignored him and walked to the top of the rotting steps.
    “Mr. Parker, are you sick?” She didn’t want any sickly man.
    He straightened with an effort, his back to her. “No, ma’am.”
    “But you’re throwing up.”
    He gulped a refreshing lungful of night air, threw back his head and dried his forehead with a sleeve. “I’m all right now. It’s just those green apples.”
    “What green apples?”
    “I ate green apples for lunch.”
    “A grown man should have more sense!” she retorted.
    “Sense didn’t enter into it, ma’am. I was hungry.”
    She stood in the semidark, hugging Glendon Dinsmore’s pillow against her swollen stomach, watching and listening as another spasm hit Will Parker and he doubled over. But there was nothing more inside him to come up. She left the pillow on the porch rail and crossed the beaten earth to stand behindhis slim, stooping form. He braced both hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His vertebrae stood out like stepping-stones. She reached out a hand as if to lay it on his back, but thought better of it and crossed her arms tightly beneath her breasts.
    He straightened, muscle by muscle, and blew out a shaky breath.
    “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked.
    “I thought it’d pass.”
    “You had no supper, then?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “No dinner either?”
    Again he remained silent.
    “Where did you get them apples?”
    “I stole them off somebody’s tree. A pretty little place down along the main road between here and the sawmill with pink flowers on a tree stump.”
    “Tom Marsh’s place. And good people, too. Well, that’ll teach you a lesson.” She turned back toward the steps. “Come on back in the house and I’ll fix you something.”
    “That’s not necessary, ma’am. I’m not—”
    Her voice became sharper. “Get back in the house, Will Parker, before your foolish pride pushes your ribs right through your thin skin!”
    Will rubbed his sore stomach and watched her mount the porch steps, treading near the edges where the boards were still good. The screen door whacked shut behind her. Inside Donald Wade stopped crying. Outside, night peepers started. He glanced over his shoulder. The shadows lent a velvet richness to the dusky clearing, disguising its rusted junk and dung and weeds. But he remembered how sorry it had looked by daylight. And what a wreck the house was. And how worn and lackluster Eleanor Dinsmore looked. And how she’d made it clear she didn’t want any jailbird sleeping in her house. He asked himself what the hell he was doing as he followed her inside.

CHAPTER
2
    She left him sitting in the kitchen while she put the boys to bed. He sat eyeing the room. The cabinets consisted of open shelves displaying cookpots and dishes beneath a workbench crudely