Plague Cult Read Online Free PDF Page B

your room.”
    They hugged, just a little awkward.
    “I’m staying at Rose House,” Ruth said, and hesitated, wondering if she needed to explain, to confess that she owned it.
    “That dump.” Peggy snorted.
    But neither woman showed any surprise. It seemed Ruth’s brothers had passed on the news that she’d bought the town’s haunted house.
    That didn’t mean Peggy could insult her home. Ruth stiffened and pulled back from her mom’s hug.
    Her mom, Helen, frowned at Peggy, and the frown lingered as she turned back to Ruth. “You know we keep your room for you at the farm.”
    “I know, Mom. But…” Ruth was suddenly grateful that Shawn was there, even if it was because of the infinitesimal risk of a plague. His presence was an excuse to avoid the minefield that was interacting with her family. “I’m just popping in for a couple of days to get a friend settled. Mom, this is Shawn, Shawn Jackson. He’s going to be renovating Rose House for me. He’s an ex-marine.” And that strangled Peggy’s second snort. The people of Bideer respected those who served. “Shawn, this is my mom, Helen Warner.”
    “Mrs. Warner.” Shawn nodded respectfully and shook hands, ignoring her mom’s flustered attempts to wipe her floured hands again on her apron.
    “I’ve been making biscuits,” she said. “It’s good to meet you, Shawn.”
    Silence descended.
    “We need to buy a few things for the house, some groceries,” Ruth said. “Then we’ll come back, have an early dinner. It’s been a long day.”
    Helen rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture. “I’ll be busy, honey. We won’t have a chance to chat. If you come over to the farm, tomorrow, for lunch…” Her voice faded, her attention going to the door.
    Ruth didn’t need to turn around to know who’d entered. “Lunch at the farm sounds good. We can catch up, then.” She ignored the soft sound of rubber on the diner’s hardwood floors, the hushed whisper of movement. Determinedly, she kept her voice even. “Tonight, we’ll just eat and run. I want Shawn to try your brisket.”
    “Is that what I can smell? Smells good.” Shawn couldn’t know why the atmosphere was suddenly electric with tension, but he backed her up.
    “People drive for miles for it. That and the blueberry caramel pie.” Ruth turned slowly. “Isn’t that right, Mason?”
    Her cousin looked up at her, the usual hate and spite in his eyes. Green eyes, like hers. “If you say so, Ruthie.”
    She smiled tightly at him. “Perfect weather for Mom’s comfort food.” She knew better than to ask Mason how he was or to present any sort of target for his attack. Especially this visit, when she and Shawn would have to spend time in the diner.
    Mason had claimed the diner as his space. Ruth existed on the outskirts of the family. He rolled his wheelchair forward, and she, perforce, stepped out of the way.
    Shawn didn’t. “Shawn Jackson.” He held out his hand to Mason. “I’ll be renovating Ruth’s house for her.”
    “Is that what they call it these days?”
    “Mason,” his mom hissed. Even for Aunt Peggy, that was going too far. And Mason had pitched his voice so that other diners could hear.
    Shawn withdrew his hand. He didn’t keep his voice down either. It remained level, but it had force. “If you’re implying Ruth and I are lovers, you’re wrong. I’m a former marine. I need a quiet place to stay and some hard work to occupy me while I sort out my head. Ruth understands.”
    It was Mason who looked away from that staring contest. And the fair skin that Ruth shared, that gave away every emotion, flushed red.
    “If it’s hard work you’re after, Rose House will supply it. I don’t know why Ruth bought such a large house, and one no one’s lived in for years. She didn’t consult us.” Helen nervously filled the silence. “There’ll be cobwebs everywhere. And worse. What state are the drains in? I could come over and help clean things