The Bridal Veil Read Online Free PDF

spoon in one hand. Her sleeves were rolled up to
her elbows, as if she’d been working hard since sunup ten years
ago.
    Luke set the wagon brake and jumped
down from the high seat, then came around to help Emily to the
ground. Rose scrambled over the wheel and ran toward the
house.
    “ Grammy, Grammy, guess
what?” she bugled. Her tangled coffee-colored hair flew behind her,
and she managed to find every puddle in her path, splashing more
mud on her shoes and stockings. “This is—”
    “ Rose, that’s not your
business to share,” Luke called after his daughter. “We’re going to
have a talk, missy. You get into the house and wash up for supper,
then wait for me in the kitchen.” Apparently deciding she’d pushed
him far enough today, the girl obeyed and disappeared inside. He
escorted Emily to the porch, where the scent of cooking eddied with
the wind currents. Then to the waiting woman, he said, “Cora, this
is Emily Cannon—well, Emily Becker, now.”
    Up close, Emily realized that Cora was
a bit shorter than she’d first seemed. But she was sturdy and
big-boned, with large, work-reddened hands. She bore the faint
scent of lye soap, starch, and wood smoke. Her small blue eyes, as
hard and round as two marbles, missed nothing.
    Cora raked her with the same rude
up-and-down gaze that Franny Eakins had. “I thought you said her
name was Alyssa,” she said, her tone accusing. “I thought you said
she was small-built and dark-haired.” She spoke to Luke as if Emily
were not there.
    Emily refused to be discussed like a
piece of furniture brought home from a merchant’s shop. Not certain
how Luke would explain her presence, she interjected, “Alyssa was
my sister, Mrs. Hayward. I’m very pleased to meet you.” Briefly,
she described coming in her sister’s place, leaving out the more
painful details of the day.
    Cora’s hard gaze fixed on her but her
stern face softened just a bit, and she uncrossed her arms. “I
don’t much like surprises. I want to know what’s coming and I had
my mind all arranged to meet someone else. But I’m sorry to hear
about your loss. I’ve buried kin—I know what that’s
like.”
    Another memory of Chicago flashed
through Emily’s mind, this time of Rosehill Cemetery. Of the
winter’s last snowfall settling lightly on Alyssa’s headstone,
plain and small and new. It had been just before Emily left, when
she’d gone there to say goodbye. She swallowed and nodded at Cora,
unable to speak.
    Luke left the porch to pull Emily’s
trunk from the wagon. “Emily was an etiquette teacher in Chicago.
It’ll be good for Rose.”
    “ Etiquette! ” Cora hooted. Her voice
sounded like a rusty nail being pulled from a weathered plank.
“Well, that’s about as useless as teats on a boar. I’ve taught that
girl all she needs—” A look from Luke stopped her. Carrying the
trunk on his big shoulder, he took it inside and Emily followed it
with her gaze, a feeling of panic elbowing the composure she was
trying to maintain. That trunk was the only familiar thing she had
in this strange new place.
    “ Manners and gentle behavior
are important for every young person, Mrs. Hayward.”
    The older woman waved a dismissive
chapped hand. “Bah! ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ are good
enough!”
    Only manners, gentle
behavior and years of enforced self-control kept Emily from
replying that stealing and a sassy mouth could not be prevented or
cured with the mere use of please and thank
you . No matter how she might want to, a
lady did not give voice to every thought that came into her head.
Apparently Cora Hayward had not learned this rule, or passed it on
to Rose.
    Luke reappeared, and just briefly
their gazes touched. Once again, Emily was struck by what she saw
in the depths of his eyes. It was more than just weariness. She saw
a raw flicker. Too shy to maintain their eye contact, she broke
away first.
    “ I’ll leave you to get
settled, then, while I see to the stock,” he