Sweet Annie Read Online Free PDF

everyone who knew her. Her very zest
for life and liberty drew people and made her a prominent community figure.
She and Burdy had a child now, and with Will's birth, Burdy had pampered and
catered to his wife even more.
    Annie
loved Diana, too.
    The
ceremony ended and, to the strains of the organ music, the newlyweds linked
arms and strolled from the church.
    All
around, guests stood and spoke in excited voices, milling toward the door, ready
for the rest of the festivities to begin.
    Annie
sat, waiting for one of her family members to come for her. Occasionally
wedding guests greeted her on their way past. Times like these, she wished she
could fade into the background, where she and her cumbersome chair weren't an
eyesore.
    Growing
impatient, she rolled herself to the back of the building, and as the crowd
thinned, toward the door to the small foyer and the three stairs. She knew
there were three because her father always found someone to assist him in
lifting her and her chair up and down those stairs.
    Today
it was Ike McPhillips, but his help came too late for her to see the newlyweds
depart.
    Father
pushed her to the social hall building which sat beside the church. The
doorways and tables were festooned with swags of white tulle and pink paper
flowers. The smooth wooden floor provided space for Annie to push herself
independently, and she did so, wheeling away from her parents toward the
gathering of young ladies near the refreshment tables.
    "May I help?"
    Mary
Chancelor and Doneta Parker glanced at each other and at the tables. “You can
sit right here at the end of this table and pour punch," Doneta told her.
    "Okay."
Annie accepted the assignment gratefully and took her position.
    Though the other girls
carried glass bowls and silverware and dashed about arranging things just so,
Annie was content to sit at her station and wait for the opportunity to serve
someone. She had time to watch the musicians set up and to see people arrive
and greet each other. Her mother checked on her, found her occupied, and moved
on into the growing throng.
    Eventually the food and
cake were ready, and guests were encouraged to move through the line. Annie
poured punch, while on her left, Charmaine had assumed the coffee duty.
    Annie noticed Luke in the
line moving toward her, and her heart beat double-time. Handing Mrs. Whit-more
a cup, her sudden trembling caused punch to spill over the side.
    "I'm so sorry,"
she said, quickly handing the woman a napkin and wiping her own fingers.
    "That's quite all
right, dear," she said, in a kind, yet condescending tone. "Accidents
happen to all of us, don't they?"
    She hadn't meant it
unkindly, but she'd meant that even regular people—people who could
walk—spilled things, and the meaning sliced Annie's pride. She blinked back the
sting of tears, folded the napkin and poured punch for the next person.
    When Luke reached her, she
had composed her hands and her feelings.
    "That's a pretty color
on you, Miss Annie," he said in his soul-pleasing voice. "It does
something that brings out the fire in your hair."
    Annie looked up, wishing
she didn't have to, wishing she could look him in the eye without craning her
neck. Her mother had taught her that when approached with flattery, a young woman
should never encourage painted words with a smile or a blush. Annie didn't encourage
the flattery or blush, but she responded immediately with, "I didn't know
I had fire in my hair."
    "Oh, yes," he
said, extending an empty cup.
    She
reached to take it, but he held on, their knuckles grazing.
    "Sometimes I see a
little in your eyes, too," he said. "Before you have a chance to look
away or hide it."
    His
words were disturbing, and she started to tear her gaze away, then caught
herself, challenged in some way she couldn't have explained. Was this the
flattery she was expected to discourage? She held his stare, his fingers
touching hers until she thought she felt the same fire he claimed was in