The Mirror Read Online Free PDF Page B

starched curtains.
    Corbin Strock stood on the front porch facing John McCabe.
    Brandy's father pulled a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Strock. He worked his tongue under his lower lip and spit brown juice over the porch railing while Corbin read the paper.
    "It's drawn up legal. The Brandy Wine's yours," John said as Shay wrote with her finger in the dust on the windowsill, "John McCabe chews," and thought of using another term, the humor of which had probably not yet been invented.
    "And so is my daughter." He fished in his jacket for an envelope and slapped it against Corbin's chest. "I want children from this match, Strock. We'll prove to the county there's nothing wrong with McCabe's girl. And there isn't. Nothing a strong man and hard work won't cure."
    "John," Sophie called from the doorway. "Can you help Elton with Brandy's things?"
    "In a minute, woman." He turned back to Corbin. "My fault. I spoiled her terrible. Couldn't help myself. I'm paying you good money and the Brandy Wine to straighten her out. It's gotten beyond me."
    While Corbin counted oversized bills, Shay wiped her writing from the windowsill. Brandy's father loved his daughter. Enough to pay someone to marry her. In John McCabe's world he was doing his best for Brandy. Shay knew she couldn't exist in John McCabe's world.
    "Brandy? Oh, here you are." Sophie carried a beaded purse with drawstrings. "Your gloves are in your bag. You don't want your hands to freckle."
    Through the dining-room archway and over Sophie's shoulder Shay saw Elton and John inching their way down the staircase with the wedding mirror on its side between them . . .
    And then Shay saw her own face, not in the mirror, which was turned with its backside to her, but interposed on the room and the form of Sophie . . . her own face . . . straight blond hair flying about it, eyes wide and blank, mouth rounded in a silent scream.
    The image warped . . . wavered . . . vanished, leaving Shay sticky with sweat. Her breathing struggled against the corset.
    "You're shaking." Sophie led her from the room. "Is there something about the mirror that disturbs you?"
    If you only knew.
    On the porch, Corbin and John lifted a trunk and carried it down the steps. The mirror stood alone and Shay watched Brandy's image, hoping the vision in the dining room meant she was to return to herself. But the mirror remained passive.
    "Strock says he can't take the mirror, Ma. He needs the space for supplies."
    Sophie gave Shay an odd look. "Perhaps it's for the best."
    Shay floated trancelike between them down steps which were wooden instead of concrete, along pink stepping-stones instead of sidewalk, through a familiar gate which now had an unbroken latch, across wooden planks that spanned a narrow ditch running full with water, and to a dirt road.
    "Elton, we must open the sluices when they've gone. It's our time for water and we've missed half of it."
    The trees in the parking were little more than saplings.
    "And, Brandy, send letters down by coach. I've put writing paper in your trunk."
    The trunk sat in a wooden wagon behind two horses.
    "Put down your veil when the road becomes dusty, and give my regards to Mrs. Strock." Brandy's mother hugged Shay, stifled a sob and whispered, "Be brave, dearest."
    Then Shay was crushed in the arms of Brandy's father. "Sorry about the mirror. We'll send it up. You work at being a good wife now, little one, and put to rest all these rumors about McCabe's daughter having a tile loose." He kissed her cheek, his breath strong with tobacco. Turning his back, he drew a handkerchief from a pocket under his coattail. "Take her away, Strock."
    Brandy's brother lifted Shay to a hard wooden seat beside Corbin. "Good-bye, Bran. I'll be up to see you when I can."
    Corbin slapped long reins down on the horses' rumps. The wagon moved forward.
    In a state of shock, Shay looked back at Sophie crying on her husband's shoulder, at Elton standing forlornly by the ditch of