Free Untethered by Marcia Lynn McClure Page A

finally have the door to confessing his own feelings flung wide open by Marie’s courage.
    As for Heathro Thibodaux and his welcome to Pike’s Creek—there was nothing to do but wait until the moment arrived and hope that the brooding ex-Texas Ranger wasn’t startled into shooting the girl who meant to welcome him to town by stealing a kiss.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Cricket clamped one hand over her mouth to keep from squealing with amusement as she, Ann, and Marie watched Vilma quietly tiptoe up Mrs. Maloney’s front porch steps. Her delight was nearly euphoric. Oh, how thoroughly Mrs. Maloney would love the teapot! No teapot in the world had ever been or would ever be so treasured and cared for. Cricket felt a pinch in her happy heart—painful gratitude for Vilma and her sacrifice for Mrs. Maloney’s sake. Oh, certainly Vilma’s hair would grow back. But Cricket knew how vain Vilma Stanley was about her beautiful auburn hair. It was truly a heartfelt and humble forfeit.
    “I’m so excited I think I’m gonna cry,” Ann whispered.
    “Hush, Ann,” Marie gently scolded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’ll have me bawlin’ like a calf if you start.”
    Cricket blinked away the moisture in her own eyes as she watched Vilma carefully situate the teapot on Mrs. Maloney’s front porch. She bit her lip with impatience as Vilma took entirely too long in placing the accompanying note just so on its spout.
    “Oh, she’s gonna get caught,” Marie groaned. “She always draws it out so dang long!”
    “It’s part of her way of doin’ things,” Cricket whispered. “Remember when we were in school and her cat died?”
    “How could we ever forget?” Ann sighed with mild exasperation. “Standin’ out in the rain in the dead of night…all four of us bawlin’ our eyes out over that silly cat.”
    “Herman,” Marie offered quietly. “His name was Herman.”
    “Oh, believe me, Marie,” Ann giggled. “I’ll never forget his name or the two hours of standin’ in the rain bawlin’ over him.”
    “Shhh!” Cricket suddenly shushed. “She’s gettin’ ready to knock on the door.”
    Simultaneously, Cricket, Marie, and Ann dropped to their bellies in the cool, sweet-scented grass across the street from Mrs. Maloney’s house. There was the echo of Vilma knocking on Mrs. Maloney’s front door on the air and then the comical sight of Vilma hightailing herself across the street to join the others.
    Cricket couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Vilma—all dressed in black underthings, leapfrogging across the street like a bullfrog with a firebrand at his behind.
    “Here she comes!” Ann giggled. “Look at her go!”
    Marie laughed so hard she snorted a little and sent Ann and Cricket clamping their hands over their mouths to ensure Mrs. Maloney wouldn’t hear them sniggling with overpowering mirth.
    “It’s done!” Vilma panted as she plopped down on her stomach in the grass next to Cricket. “Do you think I knocked loud enough? I think the ol’ gal has trouble hearin’ sometimes. Daddy said she slept clean through his sermon last Sunday.”
    Cricket smiled when Marie leaned over, whispering in her ear, “Well, then half the congregation in Pike’s Creek must have trouble hearin’…’cause the snorin’ durin’ her daddy’s sermon last week was nearly deafenin’.”
    “Shhh!” Ann whispered. “The door’s openin’!”
    Sure enough. Cricket’s eyes widened with wild anticipatory excitement as Mrs. Maloney’s front door swung wide to reveal Mrs. Maloney standing just inside, dressed in a gingham nightgown and holding a lamp in one hand.
    “Hello?” the elderly woman called into the darkness of night. “Who’s there?”
    “Oh, look down, woman! Look down!” Vilma whispered with impatience.
    Almost as if Mrs. Maloney had heard her, the lovely old woman glanced down, spying the teapot.
    Mrs. Maloney gasped—placed a hand to her bosom. “What in tarnation?” the