The Grave Soul Read Online Free PDF

treated accordingly.” She smirked. “Bring the bags in. I’ll tip you later, when we’re alone.”
    â€œYou better,” he muttered.
    A slight, white-haired woman stepped out onto the long, open, front porch, fingers wrapped around a mug. She smiled and waved. Guthrie found himself smiling back at her. Kira rushed up the steps into her grandmother’s arms.
    As he hefted the luggage up onto the porch, Evangeline said, “You must be Guthrie. Welcome.” Reaching out her hand, she added, “I’ve got rooms all fixed up for both of you.”
    â€œThanks,” he said, trying for, but not quite reaching, enthusiasm. The woman before him truly had been a beauty once, and in many ways, still was. With delicate features, high cheekbones, and fine white hair pinned into a loose bun at the back of her neck, she appeared rosy with health and vigor. She was dressed in a rough flannel-lined barn coat, slim-legged jeans and hiking boots, but still managed to look elegant. Except for the age difference, grandmother and granddaughter could have been sisters.
    Coming into the house, Guthrie was immediately enveloped by the smell of roasting turkey. An Airedale in a red bandana and a black Lab in a yellow bandana burst out of the kitchen. The Lab began to sniff Guthrie’s legs, while the Airedale headed straight for Kira.
    â€œWhere’s Foxy?” asked Kira, bending over to rub the dog’s ears.
    â€œOut in the barn, resting,” said Evangeline. “Our little girl is pregnant. A new litter is on the way.”
    â€œMy grandmother breeds Airedales,” Kira said to Guthrie. When the Lab nosed her hand, she turned her attention to him. “Wow, Sammy’s getting so old. He’s my dad’s hunting dog,” she explained, looking up. “Seems like he’s been around forever.”
    â€œHe can’t hear very well anymore,” said Evangeline. “But he still plugs along. He’s almost thirteen, ancient for a dog his size.”
    The interior air felt deliciously warm. Scented candles burned on the mantel in the living room. Directly to Guthrie’s right, the dining room table was decked in a fine linen tablecloth and the best family china and crystal. The furniture, he was happy to note, sacrificed beauty for comfort. The house looked lived in and loved.
    He was about to head up the stairs when a muscular, broad-shouldered older guy came out of the kitchen carrying a load of birch logs. He had on threadbare jeans, beat-up hiking boots, a brown corduroy shirt, and navy blue quilted vest. Reading glasses hung from a lanyard around his neck. Apparently, the formal table setting didn’t mandate formal attire. Score another one for the Adler family.
    â€œYou must be the boyfriend,” he said, proceeding into the living room, where he dumped the logs next to the fireplace.
    â€œYup,” agreed Guthrie. “That would be me.”
    â€œI’m Kira’s dad. Call me Kevin.” He nodded to the suitcases. “Need some help with those?”
    â€œNo, think I’ve got it covered.”
    â€œTurn right when you get upstairs. Your room is the last door on the left. Kira’s is across from you.”
    Guthrie nodded his thanks, then headed up. When he came back down a few minutes later, he found a woman dripping with gold jewelry coming through the front door, carrying a pie in each hand.
    â€œTake this,” she said, handing a pecan pie to Guthrie and motioning for him to follow her into the kitchen. “I’m Guthrie,” he said, setting the pie down on the counter next to a relish tray.
    â€œFigured.” She eyed him briefly. “You’re kinda cute.”
    â€œThanks. I think.”
    â€œI like tall and lanky. But … do you always wear your hair like that?” She twirled her finger. “Thought the ponytail look went out with the sixties.” Not waiting for an answer, she asked,