Small Town Girl by Ann H. Gabhart Page B

demanding she be a better person than she knew how to be. Kate took pity on him and tried to change the subject before Aunt Hattie got really wound up preaching.
    “My mother didn’t offer you a job at the store, did she? She might do that if she thought you’d keep talking poetry with her.” Kate smiled at him.
    “Maybe there will be some time for that too. A man will need to wet his whistle with a soft drink now and again.” His smile eased back out on his face. “But no, it was Graham Lindell who offered me a bed and a job. Seems he’s taken on a bigger painting job than he wanted.”
    Aunt Hattie chuckled and leaned back over to hold the ice higher on Jay’s cheek. “That Graham Lindell.” She looked over her shoulder at Kate. “Looks like he’s up to something. And from the look on your face, I’m thinkin’ you might not mind.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Aunt Hattie.” Kate willed herself not to blush. But she did know exactly what Aunt Hattie meant and exactly what Graham was up to as well. It appeared Jay Tanner had charmed Graham too.

8

    C arl was on the front porch when Kate, her mother, and Lorena finally walked home after helping Aunt Hattie clean up. Her father had come home earlier, but he wasn’t keeping Carl company. He was probably out back milking the cow. Tori wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. No doubt she was off walking in the twilight with Sammy and dreaming about the day they could follow Mike and Evie down the church aisle. Carl was all alone, sitting stiff and straight on the swing, his feet planted on the plank floor to keep the swing from swaying the slightest bit.
    It was plain he was stewing about her talking to Jay Tanner. Actually Carl had been right. She had been close to doing more than talking, but Kate wasn’t about to admit that to Carl. Or to Jay Tanner either. If she ever saw him again. Jay had held Aunt Hattie’s ice to his cheek for a while before saying his goodbyes and heading down to the church for his car. He hadn’t asked the way to Graham’s room above her father’s blacksmith shop.
    In spite of what he said, she couldn’t see him staying there. Not really. What she could imagine was him laughing all the way down the road as he drove toward whatever town was next on his list. Rosey Corner was no more than an amusement for him. She was no more than a challenge. One she’dalmost shamelessly let him win. Just the thought of it made her cheeks burn.
    She wasn’t happy to see Carl. She was tired. She was unsettled. She had no idea what she was thinking or how she was feeling. Not the best time to let an old friend down easy.
    When he saw them coming across the yard, he jumped to his feet, making the swing jerk up and down on its chains. On the porch, her mother squeezed Kate’s arm in a silent gesture of understanding before she nodded at Carl and hustled Lorena past him into the house. Kate wanted to follow them, but unpleasant things couldn’t be avoided forever. Toilets had to be cleaned out, floors scrubbed, and fishing worms squished on hooks. And she’d rather be doing any of those than facing Carl Noland on her front porch at that moment.
    He was frowning. Obviously mad at her but at the same time looking uneasy. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands as he stood like his shoes were tacked to the porch and peered over at Kate. She knew he was expecting her to say something to smooth down his ruffled feathers, but the only words that came to mind were “Go home.” She couldn’t say that. Not without at least an attempt at being nice.
    A full minute ticked past after the screen door bounced closed behind her mother and Lorena. She had to say something.
    “Carl . . . ,” she started, as though she needed to let him know she remembered his name. Normally words didn’t desert her so completely. She rubbed her thumb and fingertips together and wished for a pen and paper. It would be easier to write him a letter