Untethered

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Book: Untethered Read Online Free PDF
Author: Marcia Lynn McClure
Sighing with relief that at least their four choices as to who to do kind things for that week had been made, Cricket reiterated, “So, we’ve got Mr. Keel gettin’ a new quilt. Mrs. Maloney is gettin’ her teapot, Hudson Oliver is gettin’ the biggest and best surprise of his life, and Heathro Thibodaux is finally gettin’ properly welcomed to Pike’s Creek.” She looked to Vilma, asking, “What are our assignments then, Vilma?”
    Vilma thought for a moment, dipped her ink pen in the inkwell at her feet, and said, “Well, since I have the best penmanship, I’ll write Mrs. Maloney a little note to go with the teapot. But I do think Ann should write the note to go with the quilt for Mr. Keel.”
    “Anything else?” Marie prodded. “What should Cricket and I do?”
    Vilma smiled. “Build up your reserves of courage and determination, I would think.”
    “Fine,” Cricket agreed. “Then if we’re finished plannin’ for Friday, I’m just dyin’ to strip my clothes off and get to swimmin’!”
    “Me too!” Marie giggled, taking the ribbon from her hair and beginning to unbutton her blouse.
    “And I am not wearin’ my corset this time,” Cricket announced. “I was wet to the skin for two days last time.”
    “Do you mean we should go swimmin’ in just bloomers and camisoles?” Vilma gasped with an expression of horrified astonishment.
    “I absolutely do,” Cricket confirmed with a giggle.
    “Me too,” Ann added. “After all, no one comes out here…not ever.”
    “Well, whether they do or not, I just don’t know if it’s proper to—” Vilma began.
    “Oh, Vilma, please,” Marie whined. “We’re hot, and this old house is so stuffy. No one is gonna catch us. Let’s just have some fun for once without you naggin’ on and on at us. All right?”
    Cricket giggled as she watched Vilma huff and puff for a few more seconds, until at last she conformed, “All right then. Bloomers and camisoles it is. But if we get caught, I swear I won’t ever forgive you all.”
    “We won’t get caught,” Cricket assured her. “Nobody’s around close. And certainly not in the heat of the day like this.”
    “Fine then,” Vilma said, laying her pen and pad down on the floor. “Last one to the swimmin’ hole is an old maid!” Leaping up from her chair, Vilma laughed as she bolted out the door of the old Morgan house.
    Cricket giggled with amusement as she followed Marie and Ann out of the house. As all four girls raced for the Morgan swimming hole, Cricket’s frustrations, fatigue, and worries seemed to scatter—dissolved somehow by the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day.
    She could smell the cool water of the swimming hole as they neared—was delighted by the scent of warm summer grass, green cottonwood leaves, and wild summer roses. She thought for a moment that perhaps the roses had only grown wild since the Morgan house had been abandoned. Perhaps, and even most likely, they had been planted long ago by loving hands that had cared for them for ever so long. Perhaps they had once been pruned back or trained to cling to a bright white wooden trellis. But now they’d grown wild for years and years, and though they may have missed the tender hands that once cared for them, Cricket imagined that their existence in lingering freedom now inspired them to bloom all the more fragrantly.
    Cricket splashed into the water just after Ann and Marie. Vilma was already wading up to her neck out farther from the shore. The water was so cool and refreshing! The warmth of the sun was ambrosia to Cricket’s soul, and she turned her face heavenward, allowing the sensation to calm her. As she dipped her head back into the water, she exhaled a sigh of reprieve. She wasn’t quite sure what had caused her to feel so bothered before—perhaps all the chores her stepmother had demanded she finish up or all the planning and coaxing for their Friday night shenanigans—perhaps anxiety for what might or might
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