Free What She Left for Me by Tracie Peterson Page A

don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “You should,” he said, letting his eyes travel the full length of her body.
    “What’re you doin’ here, Eleanor?”
    Her father’s tone told her he wasn’t pleased. Eleanor wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong, but she shrugged it off. “Mom sent this stuff,” Eleanor replied, placing the bag on the counter.
    Her father, hair just below his collar and his face bearing a beard and mustache, was Eleanor’s favorite person in the entire world. She adored the man. He picked up the bag, undid the twist tie, and sorted through several small clusters of dried herbs.
    “Is that pot, Doc?” Coon’s eyes widened.
    “No, it’s medicinal herbs. I’ll see you later, Coon. Go take care of your hand.”
    The man frowned, definitely disappointed in the dismissal. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
    Eleanor’s father waited until Coon was gone before he closed the bag. “This is exactly what I needed.” He put it aside and offered his daughter a smile. “So how’s your day, Ellie?”
    “Rotten.” She jumped up on a bar stool and frowned. “I’m afraid. I don’t like what happened last night.”
    Her father crossed his arms against his chest. “I didn’t either. Those were good men who didn’t deserve to be hassled.”
    “Well, I heard now that Marty might have to leave because of it.”
    Her father seemed to consider her words a moment. “Seems gossip gets around fast, but the truth of it is, she might. The fuzz wasn’t at all happy with her father or her mother. When her mother went to see about the arrest, she was threatened with jail too.”
    “Why?”
    Her father sighed. “They’re worried that Marty’s at risk by living like we do.”
    “But what’s wrong with how we live?”
    “There’s nothing wrong with the way we live. But the way we live tends to annoy those who aren’t living that way.”
    “Mom said they were living in chains.” Eleanor shifted, thinking back over the things she had wanted to ask her father. “But why can’t they live the way they want and we live the way we want?”
    “A good question. We keep asking that too.” He sat down on a stool opposite her. “You don’t remember when we came here or why, do you?”
    “I only know what you have told me.”
    “Well, we lived in a big city and it was horrible. There was so much pollution in the air and war talk all the time. People were afraid of everything. Crime was really getting bad. People were killing each other over the stupidest thi—”
    “Nobody has ever killed anybody here,” Eleanor interrupted. “A lot of people got born, though.” She was thinking of her brothers and the many other children in the community. Her father had boasted of delivering more than forty kids over the last eight years.
    “That’s right. We have no reason to kill. We’re at peace with nature and one another. We aren’t harming our bodies, we eat good food, and we use the remedies offered by mother earth for our medicines. That’s not at all the way the world is outside of our commune.”
    “But why? If we have a good life, why don’t they want to have a good life too?” To Eleanor’s logical mind, it didn’t make sense that a person wouldn’t want to have the best—to be happy.
    “Ellie, the world is full of unhappy people. They aren’t necessarily bad people, although they do bad things. But their unhappiness makes them do it. People rob one another because they’re sure that what somebody else has will make them happy. People kill because they believe if that other person is gone, things will be better and they’ll be happy. Every bad thing done is because someone is desperate to be happy. Yet day after day, they continue in their sorrow and bitterness. They judge one another’s motives, positions, and hearts as if they were God and could see the truth about each person all at once.”
    “But the rest of the world thinks we’re bad. I heard them call us ‘stinkin’ Commie