wondering if he had hit it hard enough to fracture it. He couldn’t afford to be injured right now. Not with so much going on.
Worse, when he reviewed the conversation he’d just had with his visitor, he groaned. There was no doubt about it. Devil Anse Scraggs thought he had just made a deal.
Seven
Farrie patted the white turtleneck top stretched across her stomach. “I can wear this with the red skirt over there, can’t I, Scarlett?” she pleaded. “We wouldn’t be taking too much.”
Scarlett knew it wasn’t a matter of taking too many of the church’s clothes; it was simply that the top didn’t fit. When the boxes had arrived Farrie had hopped like a small skinny bird from one to another, trying on everything. To judge from what the Methodist church had sent they hadn’t expected someone her size. She
“Come over here,” Scarlett told her. “Let’s try on something else.” She caught Farrie’s arm before she could scuttle away, grabbed the white knit top and pulled it over her head, leaving her little sister in nothing but her ragged underpants.
Ordinarily yanking Farrie’s clothes off like that would have brought on a fit of outraged screeching, but this time she hardly noticed. Farrie was living in another world, so happy, so charged up about everything that Scarlett knew it couldn’t last. She tossed the turtleneck into the pile of clothing that was rapidly becoming a small mountain on the Grissoms’ dining room floor.
Scarlett hadn’t mentioned Devil Anse’s visit to Farrie but it weighed on her mind. Ever since their grandpa had showed up on the Grissoms’ front porch wanting to get in, Scarlett had been unsure of how long they could really stay at the sheriff’s house. Farrie might be convinced that the big tough sheriff could handle anything, but she wasn’t so sure.
On the other hand, she told herself, Devil Anse might have come just to talk. If he’d come to take them away it could have been a whole lot different.
Still, she’d been jumpy as a cat all day long, thinking Devil Anse would come back at any minute. Or telephone. But nothing had happened.
“Oh, Scarlett, lookahere!” Farrie stepped into a pair of green corduroy overalls, hauling them up by the straps. The too-large pants almost swallowed her.
Scarlett sat back on her heels. The overalls had been made for somebody’s fat little kid, younger than her sister; there was even a duck embroidered on the bib.
“You’re supposed to wear a shirt with that,” she said. “You can’t go around with your bare shoulders and arms sticking out. Not in this weather.”
From the look on her little sister’s face nothing she could say would spoil her mood. They were surrounded by boxes from the church mixed with the Christmas decorations the sheriff’s mother had left behind. Farrie had gone from one clothing box to the other like a whirlwind. Some of the clothes, Scarlett had to admit, were nice. Some looked almost brand-new.
“What’s that?” With a cry, Farrie bent over a cardboard box to drag out a dress. When she held it up they could see it was a gown in a peach rayon satin, old, not in good condition. The sweetheart neckline was raveled and the taffeta flowers that decorated the skirt were so flattened that it was hard to tell at first what they were.
Scarlett frowned. “You don’t need that. It looks like something yore grandma would wear.”
Farrie pulled the dress over her head. The back gaped open where there were buttons she could not reach, and the squashed roses hung limply. As did the puffed sleeves. “Did you ever know my grandma?” She found a wide-brimmed straw hat with matching peach satin flowers and a huge bow in front with a rhinestone pin.
Farrie jammed it down over her ears. When she turned, arms held out, the ridiculous hat teetering, Scarlett had to smile.
“No, I never saw her.” Scarlett had always wondered about the woman who’d been foolhardy enough to marry Devil Anse, but their grandma had died long ago and now no one ever spoke of her. “You better take that thing off. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be, probably somebody’s old bridesmaid’s dress.”
Farrie came to stand in front of her. “What’s a bridesmaid’s dress?”
“You know what it is, we’ve seen ’em on TV.” She cupped one of the fabric roses in her hand. It must have been pretty once: the inside was just like a real flower with little imitation white and green stalks. “Rich people have big weddings where all the bride’s girlfriends dress up to be in the church with her when she gets married.”
Farrie flopped down on the floor beside her. “Oh Scarlett, you could have that, a big wedding with bridesmaids and all, if you married the sheriff.” She stroked a small hand down Scarlett’s sleeve coaxingly. “You’re so pretty, you’d make the best-looking bride.”
Scarlett pulled Farrie’s hand away. “I thought I told you to stop talking like that.” Scarlett was wearing a black cotton shirt that Judy Heamstead had cinched with a leather belt with a big brass buckle, and a pair of tight but becoming jeans she’d found in the clothing boxes. The minister’s daughter and Farrie hadn’t stopped talking about how good she looked.
“Go help yourself to more clothes,” Farrie urged. “There’s lots left. Look at all the things I found.”
Scarlett shook her head. She wasn’t going to go hog-wild. Jeans and a couple of shirts and sweaters were enough. She didn’t want to say it in front of Farrie, but she’d never liked wearing other people’s clothes. Everyone had their dream; for Farrie, it was to live in a big house with a bed with a ruffled tester, and have a real family. For Scarlett, who had worn used clothing most of her life, it was to have her own clothes. Just a few. But all new.
Judy Heamstead came in carrying two cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other. “Here,” she said, trying to see over them, “I hope these have got some shoes. These are sure heavy enough.”
Seeing no place to put them, Judy opened her arms and let the boxes drop to the floor. The minister’s daughter was seventeen and wore jeans with a huge oversized red sweater, a down jacket, and cowboy boots.
“Are you going to wear that?” She stared at Farrie openly. “My cousin Ina was a flower girl in that for my mamma’s wedding years ago. The hat, too.”
“A flower girl?” Farrie’s eyes were big. “In a
“Take it off,” Scarlett told her. Weddings were not a good subject. There was no need to encourage her sister. She got to her knees and pulled the boxes to her. “What I need for Farrie is a warm coat. What’s in these?”
“I hope it’s shoes.” Judy sat down on the floor beside them. “You need shoes. You can’t keep on those rubber sandals, it’s too cold.”
The minister’s daughter stopped, her cheeks reddening. The reasons why the two Scraggs girls were at the sheriff’s house were, her mother had warned, none of Judy’s business. But since she’d brought in the boxes from the church, Judy had been dying to find out. “If these boxes don’t have any shoes in them maybe we can find some of Sheila’s old ones upstairs.”
Scarlett was silent for a moment. “Do you know them? The sheriff? And his family here?”
The other girl nodded. “My mother and Alicia Grissom went to school together.” She looked around the big room. “Mamma remembers when the first sheriff gave Buck’s mother this house. It used
