Free Allie's Moon by Alexis Harrington Page B

Althea, I thought you’d never finish
with that man.” Olivia met her in the kitchen. Her baby-fine,
uncurled hair hung loosely around her waist, and she wore only her
shift and an old shawl. Her feet were bare.
    Startled, Althea demanded, “What on earth are
you doing up at this hour? It isn’t even eight o’clock yet.”
    “ I couldn’t sleep so I came downstairs
looking for you, and I saw you outside with him, that—that
handyman. You were there for an hour. You touched him.” Olivia’s
eyes had a distraught look to them that made Althea wary. She’d
seen that look in her sister’s eyes many times before—it signaled
an upsurge of emotions that nearly always led to one of her spells.
It might not happen right away; sometimes days might
pass.
    Anxious to soothe Olivia, Althea immediately
changed her tone. “Remember, dear? Last night I mentioned that I
was going to cut Mr. Hicks’ hair this morning.”
    “ Yes, I remember. But Althea, I saw
your face. You looked as if you were enjoying it.”
    Althea dropped her gaze to the scissors she
still held. Enjoyed cutting Jeff’s hair, the feel of the clean, wet
strands in her fingers? And the warmth that radiated from his big
frame while she stood behind him?
    “ Nonsense, Olivia. It was just another
job to do, like the laundry or the cooking.” Was that why she’d
asked him about a wife, double-checking what she already
knew?
    “ But you weren’t here. And I wanted to
help with the picnic food.”
    It didn’t sound rational to Althea, but when
Olivia got this way she didn’t sound rational. Althea’s stomach
sank to her knees. Oh, please, she thought, please don’t let her go
into the declines again.
    “ That’s fine, I’d love your help. But
don’t you want to wash and get dressed first? I haven’t even cooked
breakfast yet. We have plenty of time to fix lunch.”
    Olivia glanced out the window again, and
Althea followed the path of her gaze. His face full of white
lather, Jeff Hicks stood outside the lean-to, staring into the
mirror she’d given him. He’d hung it on a nail next to the
door.
    “ I don’t think he should be here,”
Olivia murmured. “I don’t think any good will come of
it.”
    “ He’s just helping us. You go on, and
I’ll have pancakes ready for you when you come down
again.”
    Finally Olivia nodded and padded to the back
stairway.
    Althea watched her sister climb the steps and
she released the breath she’d been holding. Olivia hadn’t suffered
from a convulsion in months. Althea hoped with all her heart that
she wasn’t going to begin having them again. Maybe she hadn’t slept
enough, or perhaps the change of having Jeff on the property had
upset her a little. She’d be fine, Althea assured herself. She just
had to be.
    Turning, she began to gather flour, eggs, and
the other necessary ingredients to make pancakes. With an extra
mouth to feed, she’d have to remember to tell Mr. Wickwire to send
more food out.
    An extra mouth.
    . . . you were enjoying it.
    Oh, well, maybe she had found satisfaction in
cutting Jeff Hicks’ shaggy mop, she admitted to herself, but only
because it gave her a sense of accomplishment and order. She
cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork.
Revealing the shape of his head hiding beneath almost made him look
younger. Now his hair just brushed his collar—or where she’d
estimated that his collar would reach. He’d been wearing no shirt,
after all. Although she’d tried, she couldn’t ignore the
sharp-edged wings of his shoulder blades, or the shadowed hollows
they created. His skin had been cool and damp from his bath, but it
soon warmed under the sun. And he’d smelled good—different from her
father or Lane.
    Glancing at the eggs again, she realized
she’d whipped them into a high, pale-yellow froth. “For heaven’s
sakes,” she muttered. She measured flour, baking powder, and a
little milk into the bowl.
    Soon she had bacon and eggs frying while