Rae Lynn didn’t want or need to see more, nohow. She went across the yard, avoiding looking at anyone directly. There was a pause, her movement momentarily distracting the men, and she hurried to get out of sight.
Cornelia came behind her, and when they got to the house, she said, “Could you feel all them eyes on you?”
Rae Lynn squirmed and said, “Kind a hard not to.” She got out the lard and flour to make the biscuits. “What should we fix for supper tonight?”
Cornelia didn’t answer the question, instead she said, “You’re a wonder to’em. Some can’t get over the fact you lived.”
Rae Lynn sniffed. “You mean Crow.”
Cornelia huffed. “Him. Who cares about him?” She came close, bumped Rae Lynn’s shoulder with her own, and said, “You don’t find him handsome?”
Rae Lynn wasn’t in the mood, but she went along with Cornelia’s playfulness. “I have no idea who you mean.”
“Sure you do.”
“Del Reese?”
“Gosh, Rae Lynn. You got blood in them veins, ain’t you? I think you might consider him, is all. I think he’s interested.”
Rae Lynn was quiet as she dumped a measure of flour into a bowl. She cut in the lard and began blending it in with her fingers. Cornelia stoked the fire in the stove and moved some pots around, all the while sneaking peeks at Rae Lynn.
Finally, Rae Lynn said, “Nellie, there’s things you don’t understand.”
“What? You married already, or something? You got a husband trying to find you? Is that why you played like you was someone else?”
Rae Lynn faced Cornelia with the weight of what she knew, her past corralled within the fence of her mind. All she had to do was open the gate, let it flow from out of her, let it go, and maybe, just maybe, she could quiet her mind. Out of anyone, it ought to be Cornelia she should tell, the one who’d taken care of her, the one who’d whisked her from Death’s very hands. She owed her that much, didn’t she?
She tried a bit of the truth. “I was married. Once. We lived in North Carolina, in Harnett County.”
Cornelia puffed up, almost preening.
She said, “Ha. I knew it. You’re too pretty not to have been attached to somebody. Harnett County?”
The compliment made Rae Lynn blush.
She said yeah to Cornelia’s question, then focused on making a pit in the bowl of flour with her fist.
She reached for the clay pitcher of milk, and before she poured, she met Cornelia’s eyes, soft brown as a wren’s feathers, gazing at her in a manner not unlike the way Warren had sometimes when he was of a mood. It was disconcerting, and she dumped the milk too fast, adding more than she should have.
“Shoot!” She set the pitcher on the table. “I got to add more flour and lard.”
“Rae Lynn?”
Rae Lynn wiped her hands off and reached for the flour, disturbed by the uncanny look.
“What?”
“You said, ‘once.’”
Rae Lynn hesitated, then finally said, “He’s gone on to his Reward.”
“Oh, honey. I’m real sorry.”
Rae Lynn kept working, adding what she needed to her bowl. She supposed she could say a bit more that wouldn’t point to anything of consequence.
“He fell off our roof trying to fix it and got hurt.”
“How awful!”
Rae Lynn said, “It was the most awful thing I ever been through. He got hurt bad.”
“What you reckon was wrong with him?”
“Some internal injury, though I don’t really know. He wouldn’t let me get no doctor. He was stubborn as the day is long. Set in his ways. He was older’n me. He had him a son from a first marriage, named Eugene. I reckon he was probably closer to my age, though I never met him. He’s a lawyer, and didn’t seem to care much about nothing his daddy had, not ’til he was gone.”
The more she talked, the easier her words came, but also memories she didn’t like. The ones that forced her to relive the moment she’d taken up Warren’s pistol. The tragedy played out in her head, and she struggled with it, her breath coming faster as she concentrated on controlling her emotions. She pressed her fingers to her lips, as if physically preventing the rest of her story from spilling out. Cornelia grabbed her hand away from her face.
“Rae Lynn? You all right? What happened? Won’t you tell me?”
Rae Lynn wished she could convey the agony of it all without having to say it out loud. She couldn’t imagine what Cornelia might say, or what she might think. She pulled her hand away and went back to fixing the biscuit dough. She tried not to shake.