The Widows of Braxton County Read Free Page B

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    “Hey,” Joe, with his arms full of luggage, hollered from the front porch, “are you going to sit there all day, or do you want to see your new home?”
    Laughing, Kate scrambled out of the car and joined him on the porch. She waited for him to set the luggage down and carry her over the threshold—and when he didn’t, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, silently preparing herself for the shouts of “surprise.”
    The small hallway with stairs leading up on her right was empty. Perplexed, she glanced over her shoulder at Joe, who’d followed her through the door and was now stacking the luggage by the stairs.
    “Come on,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her through a large doorway to her left.
    She found herself standing in the living room, or parlor as she supposed it should be called. A large brick fireplace dominated the far wall and its mantel was covered with ornate frames holding pictures of past generations of Krauses. The golden pine floor was partially covered by an area rug. Around the rug sat a couch and two armchairs, definitely Victorian by the looks of them. On all three, the arms and backs were protected with lace doilies. Small tables crowded the room—their surfaces covered with more pictures. With all the froufrous sitting around, this room had to be a nightmare to clean .
    Her attention moved to the windows. Dark floral drapes with heavy, braided tiebacks hung over the lace curtains Kate had already noticed. All in all, the whole atmosphere was dark and fussy, and Kate felt she’d stepped back in time.
    Her eyes narrowed. This would never do. She appreciated history as much as the next person, but there was no way she could imagine herself curling up on that stiff couch to enjoy one of her favorite books. She’d want to keep the same Victorian feel to the room, but make it more comfortable. If the rest of the house looked the same, she had her work cut out for her—turning this museum piece of a house into a home.
    An antique music box on one of the end tables caught her eye. She lifted the lid. “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” began to play, but she noticed some of the notes were skipped. Joe quickly joined her and, with a grimace, shut the box, silencing it.
    “That’s been in the family for a long time,” he said, swiftly, “and some of the notes miss. We don’t handle it.”
    “I’m sorry,” Kate said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
    He threw an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I acted out of habit.” He chuckled. “If you knew the number of times Ma dusted the seat of my pants for doing the same thing, you’d understand my reaction.”
    Kate smiled up at him.
    “Well, what do you think?” Joe asked with his voice full of pride.
    “The architecture is lovely,” she replied, gauging her words, “but—”
    Suddenly, an elderly woman appeared in the doorway leading into the dining room and cut off Kate’s words.
    “It’s about time you got here,” the woman said, her voice critical.
    “I thought we agreed—” Joe began.
    “We’ll talk about it later,” the old woman said, cutting him off as she looked directly at Kate.
    Her gray hair was gathered tightly away from a face webbed with wrinkles. She wore an apron over her plain housedress and her support stockings were rolled just beneath its hem.
    Kate took a step back as she looked into the woman’s narrow brown eyes—eyes that were sizing her up. Kate shifted uneasily. From the rigid lines around the woman’s mouth, it was apparent that she wasn’t impressed with what she saw.
    Kate shot her husband a questioning look. He hadn’t mentioned a housekeeper, but it only made sense. A man as busy as Joe would need someone to look after his home.
    The old woman’s gaze shifted from Kate to Joe. “I expected you an hour ago.”
    Joe exhaled slowly and, taking Kate’s arm, pulled her toward the woman. “Sorry, we got a late