Free Enchanted Spring by Peggy Gaddis Page A

thought were worthless. That’s all. I have no job now, but I’ve got an annuity — it pays me eighty dollars a month. I can’t live on that alone; you and your father can’t live here on approximately fifty dollars a month. But if we combine the two incomes, the three of us can get by on one-hundred and thirty dollars — that is, of course, until you marry.”
    Carey ignored that and said thickly, “You are capable of earning a good salary, Margaret. Why should you want to bury yourself here?”
    “Because Silas is here, of course. And I’d rather starve where Silas is than be fed on plover’s eggs and caviar where he isn’t,” Margaret said swiftly. “See here, Carey, we can make a go of it. He likes me. I amuse him and keep him interested. And I can do my share — more than my share — of the housework and cooking. Then you can get out and around and have some fun. You’ll want to marry — I saw the way Dr. Hunter looked at you — and when you do, your father will be completely alone. Unless you let me stay.”
    “It’s — something we can’t decide — all of a sudden like this,” Carey said after a moment. “We’ll have to talk things over with Dad. Meanwhile — we’d better get some sleep, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, of course, Carey — and we won’t say anything more about things until after Christmas. Shall we just sort of keep it in mind?”
    In bed that night, Carey thought of what a thorn in her side Margaret would be. But Margaret had given up a good deal to be in this barren spot with the man she loved.
    Ronnie Norris. Carey wondered what it would be like to share a place like this with Ronnie Norris. And knew that Ronnie would see to it that he was never in such a spot.
    Joel Hunter, now. There was an entirely different sort of person. Joel — well, there wasn’t anybody quite like him, she told herself comfortably, and jerked herself painfully awake from the first drowsiness of the evening, startled at the way her heart had stirred at the thought of Joel. High time, she told herself severely, that she forgot about Joel Hunter before she had a brainstorm and believed herself in love with him, And found herself married to him and chained to Midvale for life.

Ten
    IT WAS LATER than usual when Carey woke up. She lay still for a moment, looking at the sunlight that spilled into the room. And then, she swung herself out of bed, shivering, clutching for her clothes, her teeth chattering as she dressed hurriedly, her eyes on the clock. It was after seven — and poor Pops was hungrily awaiting his breakfast.
    But she paused at the head of the stairs, sniffing. A strange but delicious odor crept up to her; coffee, of course; and the scent of crisping bacon. And then she heard her father laugh, a startled, light-hearted shout of laughter such as she had not heard him give in months.
    She heard Margaret’s voice as she went along the hall and, as she pushed open the kitchen door, Margaret was just sliding a golden brown waffle from the smoking iron to her father’s plate. They both looked up, welcoming Carey with almost guilty glances.
    “Hullo, kitten — did we wake you?” Her father sounded very gay. “Margaret insisted we let you sleep. You’ve had a pretty hard pull of it these last few weeks.”
    Margaret said nothing but her smile, her manner, most of all that almost pleading look in her dark eyes, begged Carey to let her stay.
    “You’ll have a waffle, Carey, won’t you?” she asked eagerly.
    “A
waffle? She’ll have half a dozen of them, after she tastes the first one. Carey, you wouldn’t believe anything could be so good,” Silas said happily, and sloshed cane syrup over his plate.
    Carey said something meant to be gay. But she was remembering the breakfasts she had cooked so awkwardly, but so lovingly, for her father. She watched while Margaret picked up the old, blackened coffee-pot and poured a cup that was golden brown, steaming hot, gloriously