The Promise of Forgiveness Read Online Free PDF Page A

the staircase. When she entered the kitchen, a mongrel the size of a Great Dane
woof
ed at her. The ugly mutt sniffed the air but didn’t budge from his bed pillow in the corner.
    â€œFound him wandering in the road,” Hank said.
    â€œWhat’s his name?”
    â€œDidn’t give him one.”
    He cared enough to rescue a homeless hound but not enough to name it?
    Hank struggled to hold a can of dog food, while his gnarled fingers fumbled with the opener. A short-sleeved cotton shirt and worn jeans hung on his scrawny frame, and his saggy skin was mottled with moles and scabbed-over sores. His shoulders curved inward, forcing his torso toward the floor, gravity tugging him closer to the grave—half buried already by the fine layer of dust that coated his skin and clothes. He dumped the moist food into a bowl, mashed it with a fork, then bent, his knees crunching, and placed the meal before the dog.
    While the mutt ate, Ruby scrutinized the kitchen. Burn marks marred the linoleum floor—ash from Hank’s cancer sticks. The aging vinyl curled up along the baseboards, and the pattern had been worn off two of the squares in front of the cast-iron sink. The black refrigerator clashed with the white stove. No dishwasher. A table and four chairs sat in front of the window overlooking the backyard. A crock of cooking utensils and a tin canister set—their faded red letters spelling
Flour
,
Sugar
and
Tea
—sat on the gold-flecked Formica counter next to the toaster. Decades of frying food in the kitchen had coated the maple cabinets with a thick sheen of grease. Even though there was no trace of a woman’s touch, the shabby room possessed a homey feel.
    Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. The Devil’s Wind wasn’t home and never would be.
    â€œDidn’t expect you this soon,” he said.
    That Hank had expected her to show up at all pissed Ruby off. Had it never crossed his mind that maybe she wouldn’t want to meet the man who’d given her away?
    His eyes studied her. “Where’d you get the necklace?”
    â€œFrom my parents. Why?”
    He shrugged.
    â€œHow do you know for certain that I’m your daughter?”
    â€œYou look like your mother.”
    â€œWhere is my mother?”
    He wet a dishrag, then rubbed at an invisible spot on the counter. “Haven’t seen Cora since right after you were born.”
    So her birth mother had left him, too? “Where did she go?”
    â€œSometimes a person doesn’t want to be found.” He pressed his bony hand against his chest and stared into space.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    â€œHad a pacemaker put in a while back.”
    Suddenly Ruby understood why he’d tracked her down. “You sent for me because you’re going to die soon and you want to clear your conscience.”
    â€œMy conscience is clear.”
    â€œYou have no regrets about putting me up for adoption?”
    â€œDidn’t have a choice.”
    â€œEverybody has a choice.” Ruby choked back a curse. So much for pretending she was tough enough to handle the truth. “I became pregnant with my daughter by accident, but I kept her.”
    â€œI got things to settle before I leave this earth.”
    She didn’t want to care about Hank’s health. But the fact that his heart needed help beating properly was cause for concern. She’d hate to see him keel over before she learned more about him and Cora, not to mention other health issues aside from a weak heart that she and Mia needed to be aware of.
    He pointed to the door on the opposite side of the kitchen. “Made the back porch into a bedroom. Cooler out there at night.” He picked up the empty dog bowl and rinsed it in the sink. “Joe’ll clear his things out later. You ’n’ . . . What’s your daughter’s name?”
    â€œMia.”
    â€œCan bunk down on the porch.”
    Ruby