Morning Song Read Online Free PDF Page B

personage trampled in the dust brought a grim smile to Jessie's lips. She would shoot him, if she had to, to preserve her home. But it was likely that nothing so drastic would be required. In all probability she had merely to tell him about Celia's proclivity for men, and he would be so shocked that e would hastily decamp. Jessie hated to be the bearer of tales, but in this case she felt she had no choice. Celia certainly did not deserve her loyalty.
    Then Jessie noticed that all the lights in the house were lit, and Jasper had abandoned them to go to the stable and his dinner. With a gentle nudge of her knees Jessie set Firefly in motion again.
    There was no need to despair. Celia and her beau weren't wed yet. As the saying went, there was many a slip betwixt cup and lip—and she meant to provide the necessary joggle of the elbow to cause this particular brew to spill.
    Progress, thin, bent, and ancient-looking—which he had been for all the years she had known him— stood at the door of the stable, looking anxiously around as Jessie approached. His wrinkled coffee-colored face relaxed visibly when he saw her riding toward him.
    " 'Bout time you was gettin' home, Miss Jessie," he greeted her as she drew rein beside him.
    "I took her into the swamp, Progress. She's covered with mud, and I'm ashamed of myself." Jessie slid down from the saddle, patted Firefly's neck in contrition, and handed the reins to Progress.
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    "I c'n see that, Miss Jessie." Progress would ordinarily have expressed his disapproval with the freedom of one who had been in the family since before Jessie's mother's birth, but since he did not volubly scold her for her foolishness, Jessie realized that he must have heard of her upset. "Don't you worry none, I'll take care of her."
    "You heard about Miss Celia." It was as much a sigh as a question. The news would have spread through the house like wildfire, and from there to the stable was a very short step, especially considering that Tudi was Progress's sister.
    "Yes'm, I did."
    "I'm not going to let it happen, Progress."
    "Now, Miss Jessie..."
    "I'm not! I'm not, do you hear?" Her voice was fierce. Progress sighed.
    "I hear you, Miss Jessie, I hear you. But sometimes there's not a whole lot we c'n do to prevent other folk from doin' what they take it in their minds to do."
    "I won't let it happen! I can't, don't you see? Celia never cared anything about Mimosa, and he won't either, and they might even sell it and—"
    "You always were one to jump your fences before you got to
    'em, Miss Jessie, even as a chile. Miss
    Celia's not going to sell Mimosa! Why should she? It's the best cotton producer in the valley, and has been since your grandpa's time. Now, quit borrowin' trouble and run on up to the house and get your supper. Tudi's done been down here three times, lookin'
    for you. She's mighty anxious, I c'n tell you."
    "But, Progress—"
    "Go on, now. Shoo."
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    "Oh, all right. I'm going. You give Firefly a warm bran mash, you hear?"
    "I will, Miss Jessie. And, uh, lookee here . . . "
    "What?" Already several steps on her way, she glanced over her shoulder at him. It wasn't like Progress to be at a loss for words.
    "If'n I were you, I'd go get my supper in the cookhouse and then head on up to bed. Send word down to Miss Celia that you're home, so she won't worry none, and just stay out of her way 'til morning."
    "Why should I do that? I have some things to say to her." Progress sucked his lower lip thoughtfully. When he spoke, it was with reluctance, as if he was not quite sure of the wisdom of saying what he was about to say. "He's still here—Miss Celia's beau. I don't reckon it'll do you no good to have another quarrel with the pair of 'em tonight."
    "Still here!" Jessie's head snapped around and she stared up at the house, her fists clenching at her sides. "Why? Does he think he owns the place already?"
    "I don't know whut he thinks, Miss Jessie. I only know that you're gonna cause a heap o'