Catching Moondrops Read Online Free Page A

better.”
    â€œGemma Teague!” My whisper came out sharp between clenched teeth. “Them boys is just tryin’ to get somethin’ more out of life.”
    â€œOh, they’ll get it, all right. They’ll get it at the end of a gun barrel . . . or a rope.”
    â€œAnd what about Doc Pritchett? You’re plannin’ on workin’ for that colored doc, and you know good and well folks in this town don’t take kindly to what they see as a colored man goin’ above his proper station.”
    She didn’t look at me, so I knew I had her. “That’s different.”
    â€œAin’t different nohow.”
    Gemma couldn’t say much back. She couldn’t argue with me once I made it personal.
    I stood up and remembered why I was out here waiting on the porch in the first place, then went back to pacing the whitewashed floorboards just like Momma always does when she’s anxious. It didn’t escape my notice how much I became like her as I grew older, but Lord knows I didn’t model her in all ways, and Gemma was first to say it.
    â€œI swear you’re the edgiest woman I ever done seen. Why can’t you be more calm and peaceful like your momma?” She glared at me from her post on the rocker. “You got to do that? You’re makin’ the porch shake.”
    I didn’t pause or reply. I just dug my eyes into hers as I paced in her direction, then spun around and headed back, nearly tripping over Duke, our ages-old basset hound. Years earlier, he would have scurried under the porch to escape my worrisome mood, but now it was all he could do to lift his eyes and glance at me.
    â€œThat dog may as well be nailed to the floor.” I looked down the road both ways. “You sure there weren’t any calls?”
    â€œWould’ve told you if there were.” She had her needlepoint in her hands, her face so close to it I was surprised she wasn’t cross-eyed. “You ain’t gone nowhere all day, anyhow. Think you would’ve heard if the phone rang.”
    I studied her face with squinty eyes, hands balled up on my hips. “You need spectacles. You can’t see a thing two feet in front of your face.”
    Gemma rubbed the space between her eyes, though I guessed it was more in exasperation than eye fatigue. “You ain’t got to boss me, Jessilyn. They’re my eyes. I ought to know when they need fixin’.”
    â€œYou know full well they need fixin’; I ain’t arguin’ that. It’s just you won’t admit to it. You worried about lookin’ funny around Tal Pritchett?”
    â€œI ain’t so vain as that, Jessie.”
    I backed away from the fiery stare, worried she might prick me with her needle. “Then you’re worried about money.” I tapped my toe waiting for her to answer, but she ignored me and went back to her needlepoint. “I’m full aware why a colored doctor won’t be able to pay much, but I already told you I’d help buy you some spectacles. I been workin’ for Miss Cleta more and more, and she’s as generous as the day is long. I got me more than I need.”
    Her pointed focus on that needlework got under my skin, and after a good minute of silence broken only by the squeak of the rocker, my nerves were so raw my palms itched. But I was determined to play at nonchalance.
    â€œFine, then. Let yourself go blind. Next thing you know, you’ll be sewin’ your fingers together with that there needle. I reckon you’ll think twice then.”
    A tuneful whistle off in the distance broke through our quarrel, and I nearly jumped out of my new shoes. I tipped a finger under Gemma’s chin and made her look at me. “How do I look? Is my hair still put up nice?” I pulled my skirt out by the sides and inspected it. “My dress wrinkled?”
    Gemma sighed and set her needlework on the table beside her.