River's End (9781426761140) Read Free Page A

started to grow up after her marriage to Donald had dis-integrated. She’d put aside many of her old self-centered ways, but although she was close to forty, she sometimes still acted in a somewhat childish way. However, Anna was patient with her. And sometimes she even blamed herself for some of Lauren’s narcissistic tendencies. Perhaps if she hadn’t abdicated some of Lauren’s upbringing to Eunice it would have gone better.
    Still, Anna knew it did no good to dwell in the past. Better to learn from your mistakes and move forward . . . trying not to make them again. The teakettle whistled, and Anna turned off the propane, filled the teapot with hot water, rinsed it around (as Babette had taught her to do long ago), then poured in the loose leaves and filled it again. Not for the first time, Anna was acutely aware of how so many parts of her life had been influenced by the women who had gone before her. How thankful she was for them.
    Sarah emerged from the bedroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. Barefoot and wearing Anna’s faded blue housedress, which hung on her like a sack, Sarah stood there in the doorway with a guarded expression, her arms folded across her front in a protected sort of way.
    â€œTea is ready,” Anna said cheerfully. She used a dishtowel to remove the warm plate from the oven. “And here is some breakfast. Your favorite.” She set the plate of hotcakes, eggs, and bacon on the table with a smile.
    Sarah made a slightly disgusted look. “Bacon?”
    â€œYou used to love—”
    â€œI do not eat the flesh of my fellow creatures.”
    â€œOh . . .” Anna plucked the strips of crispy bacon from the plate, tossing them from hand to hand as they cooled. Then she removed a saucer from the dish cupboard and, placing the bacon on it, set it down at the table opposite Sarah’s place. “Then I’ll just have that.” She hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. No sense to waste good food. She pulled out the chair and sat down, waiting for Sarah to follow her lead.
    Sarah almost seemed to turn up her nose as she gingerly sat down across from Anna and picked up her fork, and although she seemed uneasy, it wasn’t long before she was gobbling up the food. She was obviously hungry. Half-starved from what Anna could see.
    Anna watched furtively as she nibbled at the bacon, wishing she’d thought to bring down more food. Poor Sarah looked like she hadn’t eaten in days . . . maybe even weeks. “Can I get you some more?” she offered finally.
    â€œNo.” Sarah firmly shook her head. “That’s plenty.”
    Anna nodded. “All right . . .” Still she felt uneasy, wondering why this was so difficult. How was it possible that sweet Sarah had changed so completely . . . grown so distant . . . almost to the point of hostility?
    â€œYou know our ancestors nearly starved when they were relocated to the reservation up north,” she said absently. Really, she was simply trying to think of something innocuous to say. Something safe and removed from whatever was actually transpiring in this room right now. “Your great-grandmother, Pearl, the one who built this cabin, used to tell me how hard it was for them to find food in those days.” She sadly shook her head. “Some of the men were shot for going out in search of shellfish and berries, just hoping to feed their families. If you can imagine.”
    â€œThe white men have always hated us.”
    Anna frowned. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”
    Sarah glared at her through those dark eyes. “How can you say that?”
    â€œBecause I’ve known many good white men, including my own father.” She smiled. “In fact, I’m married to one.”
    Sarah pushed her empty plate to the center of the table.
    â€œI believe that fear and ignorance were the biggest