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The Stolen Canvas(10)

By:Marlene Chase


“Oh. Thank you.” She took a small pimento cheese sandwich from the tray that Annie held toward her. “I guess I am a little hungry.”

Annie sat in a chair across from her and set her own teacup on the tray table. Boots quickly leaped upon her now unencumbered lap, and Annie stroked her soft fur. It was quiet in the living room except for the steady ticking of the mantel clock. Annie had never known it to be so loud before. What had brought Tara Frasier to her door? Why had she simply left her car without calling a tow truck or arranged for a ride to a hotel or something?

“Tara, do you want me to phone someone for you?”

“No. There’s no one. I …” She broke off and set her cup down on the coffee table in front of her. She let the afghan fall around her and folded her hands nervously in her lap. “My cellphone died, and I realized I didn’t have my charger cable with me.” She pushed a swirl of misplaced hair back with her index finger and clasped her hands together once more. “You see, I …” Once again she let the sentence drift into space. Her wide brown eyes filled.

“Never mind,” Annie said gently. “We can deal with it in the morning. You can stay here tonight. There’s plenty of room.” Aghast, Annie listened to the words coming out of her own mouth. This woman could be anyone! A thief … an axe murderer! What was she saying?

A small sob escaped Tara’s lips. She nodded her head back and forth as though in dissent or dismay. Annie couldn’t tell which, but she found herself reaching across the space between them to cover the small clasped hands. “Whatever it is …”

“I’m really sorry. I’m not usually so emotional. It’s just that my mother …” She paused, ringed her lips with her tongue once more, and fixed her eyes somewhere over Annie’s head. “My mother just died. She—she’s been ill, really, for some time, and I …” The words fell away again in another half sob.

“Oh my dear,” Annie said, struck by the girl’s vulnerability. “I’m so sorry.” Indeed, Annie did know, for she had lost both mother and father. She was still working through the two latest losses in her life—her beloved Wayne and Gram. Darkness crept around the windows of Grey Gables. She pulled a clean tissue from her pocket and gave it to Tara. A lamp on an automatic timer breached the encroaching night.

“I just had to get away. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do. I just got in my car and drove up the coast.” Tara dabbed at her eyes. The skirt of her pale blue sundress was torn near the hem, perhaps from climbing up the rugged path from the road; a green stain smeared the bodice. “I—I should have known my old car wasn’t up to another road trip. I’ve been meaning to trade it in, but I lost my job, and then Mother …”

Annie patted Tara’s clasped hands and remained silent. It was no wonder she was a bit disoriented after what she’d been through. In a broken economy, a lost job was not unique, but for each person it happened to, it was a new and wrenching story. Then to lose someone important to you was a double sorrow.

“My car broke down in Petersgrove; then I took a bus. I didn’t have enough cash to go farther than Stony Point, so I just started walking. Then, when I saw your light …” Tara didn’t finish the sentence. “You’ve been so kind, and I really don’t want to impose. Is there a hotel or a bed and breakfast nearby?”

Annie drew in her breath, pursed her lips. Was she serious? From the look of her, she couldn’t afford a cheap room—even with a credit card. And it was clear that her health was anything but robust. She shook her head slowly from side to side but gave Tara an encouraging smile. “There’s no need for that. It’s late, and you’ve been through a lot. I have a perfectly good bedroom upstairs. I used to sleep there when I visited Grey Gables as a child. You see, I’ve only come to live here recently, after my grandmother passed away.”

The brown eyes widened with something like curiosity or camaraderie. “It’s a beautiful house. When I saw it from the road, it was so grand and inviting. I thought it might even be a bed and breakfast.” She paused; the eyes softened. “I’m sorry about your grandma. I had one too …Well, everyone does, don’t they?” Her lips formed a self-deprecating smile. “But I—never knew mine.”

“Well, mine would tan my hide if I let you go off to a motel. So it’s settled.” Annie got up and pushed the tea service off to one side. She held out a hand. “Come on now. You need your rest. In the morning, we can talk some more.”