Appalachian Prey. Debbie Herbert

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СКАЧАТЬ snap of her gray eyes, he added, “Please.”

      “Maybe.”

      The old oak door shut firmly behind her. Stubborn woman.

      * * *

      A LEATHER CORDED bracelet with a crimson stone, a triple-stranded necklace of multicolored glass and a tarnished silver ring with a fake cameo carving. Lilah laid the jewelry on the kitchen table and examined the pieces. They obviously held little, if any, monetary value, but they’d been carefully wrapped in an embroidered linen handkerchief inside a red silk drawstring pouch. So they’d meant something to somebody at one time.

      Curious, she’d called Mom, who’d snorted when asked if they’d once belonged to her. “Anything I wanted from that cabin, which wasn’t much, I took with me when I left your dad.” She also claimed never to have seen the jewelry. “Might have belonged to Chauncey’s mama, but if it did, I never noticed he had them, and he never mentioned it to me. Your dad wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, anyway.”

      Still, Lilah was reluctant to chuck the pieces in the charity box with everything else worth salvaging. If the jewelry had belonged to Granny Tedder, she wanted to keep it.

      At the crunch of gravel outside, she peered out the front window. Good, just Darla and Uncle Thad come to call. She opened the screen door and waved them inside. Uncle Thad hefted Darla’s overnight bag from the truck bed as her sister minced her way to the porch in high heels. Lilah suppressed a giggle. Even as a kid, Darla was into playing dress up and acting like a Hollywood ingenue instead of a hillbilly’s daughter.

      “Thanks for coming over, y’all. Harlan was over earlier and got me all paranoid about staying alone out here.”

      “Harlan, huh? He’s sexy.” Darla winked as she entered, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.

      Lilah ignored the comment.

      “Got yer shotgun, don’t ya?” Uncle Thad bellowed. “Yer safe enough.” He huffed and puffed up the porch steps. He was a giant of a man, over six feet tall, and as strong and as broad-boned as an ox.

      He always knew just what to say to make her feel better. She hugged him as he entered the cabin.

      Darla walked to the kitchen table, hips swaying. When she pulled out a chair and sat, she crossed her legs, exposing a long stretch of thigh. “You’ve been working hard. I’ve never seen Dad’s place look so tidy. At least not since Mama ran off.” She tossed her hair and sighed. “Be a love and make me a cup of coffee. Those kids ’bout ran me ragged today.”

      Lilah exchanged a quick knowing glance with Uncle Thad, who was dragging the suitcase to the back bedroom. Somehow, everything always centered on Darla and her needs. Feeling guilty, Lilah set about fixing the coffee. After all, her sister was busy with her own home life and didn’t have to come babysit a grown fraidy-cat woman.

      “What do we have here?” Darla cooed, picking up the multicolored necklace and holding it to the light.

      “Found them under Dad’s mattress. Any idea who they belong to?”

      “No, but it’s mine now.” Darla clasped the necklace around her neck and preened. “How does it look?”

      Gaudy, actually. Lilah measured the coffee and started the machine. “Mmm,” she said noncommittally.

      Uncle Thad waved from the den. “Gotta hit the road. Momma’s waiting dinner on me.”

      “Tell Aunt Vi I said hey,” Lilah called from the kitchen.

      Darla put on the bracelet and ring. “Not too shabby, I guess. Whatcha think, Uncle?”

      He stopped and stared. “Where’d ya get those baubles?”

      “Lilah found them. Do they look pretty on me?”

      “Sure, sure. Not that you need adornment.” He winked at Lilah. Uncle Thad knew how to flatter his niece.

      “You want to keep one, Lilah?” Darla asked.

      “Nah, that’s okay. They should go to someone who appreciates them.”

      Uncle Thad left, and Lilah warmed up a large pot of chicken and dumplings and another pot of butter beans. She was suddenly ravenous and exhausted as the aroma kicked in, and she absently stirred the dumplings, thinking of all the things she’d have loved to discuss with Darla. Hidden matters of the heart. But there was a layer of reserve between them. It seemed sometimes as if Darla resented her. Lilah had left Lavender Mountain years ago, finished her high school degree, and would soon graduate college with her teacher’s certificate, whereas Darla had never left, never finished her schooling and had pretty much been forced into marriage when she’d gotten pregnant at sixteen.

      Lilah set their plates on the table and sat across from her. “I know the kids keep you busy, but aren’t they fun, too? I mean, you like being a mother, don’t you?”

      Darla shrugged. “It has its moments, I suppose. But it’s lots of work. More than I realized it would be.”

      “But satisfying, right?”

      “Sure,” she said carelessly, lifting her little finger as she sipped her coffee.

      Well, that hadn’t been particularly enlightening or encouraging. What had she expected? Lilah ate, savoring the homemade food. As soon as her stomach was sated, lethargy crept in like a drug. She blinked, surveying the dirty dishes with dread. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and snuggle under the covers.

      “Hey, kid.” Darla’s hand closed over hers. “You look beat. I’ll wash the dishes.”

      “You will?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

      “Of course. You go on to bed.”

      Beat didn’t even begin to cover how exhausted she felt. For the first time since she was a little kid, Lilah had begun taking afternoon naps. “I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said.

      Darla slipped off the leather bracelet and clasped it around Lilah’s wrist. “And you keep this. Stand up for yourself now and then, girl.”

      Unexpected tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them back. Every once in a blue moon, Darla surprised her. Nodding, she got up from the table and went to the bedroom. Without bothering to change into her nightgown, she slipped between the covers and fell into the black abyss of sleep.

      * * *

      COLD.

      Lilah rubbed the goose bumps on her arm. Wind rustled through the pines and whooshed into the cabin. Darla must have opened a window, she surmised, clambering out of bed.

      The scrape of a heavy boot on the wooden floor brought her to an abrupt halt. The back of her neck prickled. Another step creaked in the hallway, and her mind raced. The shotgun was by the front door, so that was of no use. She hesitated, torn between locking her door or opening her bedroom window and hightailing it into the dark night.

      But she couldn’t leave Darla alone to face the menace.

      Lilah unplugged the lamp on her nightstand and СКАЧАТЬ