Chapter 18: Coffee Hour

By Sunday morning the flyer was on every windshield in the church lot.

Somebody had stuck one under the wiper of Ray's truck, and he read it standing in the gravel with his hat in his hand.

It said he had gotten a young cook with child and thrown her out of the Kell kitchen.

It said Ray Sorley was not fit to sit on the stockgrowers' board.

It said the Kells were asking the county to vote on it Monday morning.

It had no name on it, and it did not need one.

"I should stay home," my father said.

"You should come in with me," I said.

"Annie, they'll stare."

"They'll stare if you stay home, too. You might as well be standing up."

He looked at me, and for the first time all week he looked like the man who had taught me to ride.

"All right," he said.

Boone parked the truck, and Brooke stepped down from the cab.

She wore a plain blue dress, and her hand went to her stomach and stayed there.

"I don't have to come," she said.

"You do," I said. "It's your story on that page as much as his."

The church hall smelled of coffee and cinnamon rolls.

Sixty people stood at folding tables, and the room went quiet in a ring as we came in.

Constance sat at the long table by the pulpit steps.

She had a cup in her hand and a stack of flyers at her elbow, and three women in good wool coats leaned close on either side of her.

She looked up and smiled.

"Ray," she said. "Annie. I didn't think you'd have the nerve."

"Good morning, Constance," my father said.

"We were just talking about a petition."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Cheated on Our Wedding Night, I Canceled His Fortune from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.