Joelle's Secret Read Online Free

carefully.”
    Finally the churning was done, and she put the butter into a mold, one she had seen her mother fill thousands of times. She turned it over and studied the geometric perfection in the beautifully wrought yellow mound. It gave her satisfaction to make small things like this. She stepped outside to the spring house. The air was cold, and she put the butter inside. When she came back in, she saw that Harper had returned. He was wearing a heavy coat, and his cheeks were flushed from the exercise.
    “I’ve been hunting,” he said. “I didn’t get nothing though.”
    Joelle nodded but didn’t answer. She started toward the bedroom door, but as he passed by, he reached out and caught her arm. “Ain’t you ever going to talk again?”
    “Don’t have anything to say, Harper.”
    “I don’t like it when you call me Harper,” he said. “I never have.” His eyes narrowed, and then he grinned, his thick lips twisting upward at the corners. “One of these days you’ll call me something a lot sweeter than Harper.” She didn’t answer.He was so strong that she knew she could not break away. “People die, Joelle. You just have to get used to it.”
    Suddenly Harper reached out and caught her in a bear hug. His strength was frightening, and all she could do was turn her head to one side so that his lips missed her mouth. “Let me go, Harper!” He was very strong, and she drew back her foot and kicked him in the shin. She was wearing sharp-toed boots, and the pain caused him to turn her loose.
    “Ow!” he cried. “You little vixen!”
    He advanced toward her, and Joelle backed away. Her eyes lit on the kitchen knife that lay on the table. She picked it up and said, “You stay away from me or I’ll cut you!”
    Harper was big, but he was quick. His hand shot out, and he grabbed her wrist. He wrenched the knife away from her and said, “I’m going to have you one way or another, Joelle. I promised your ma I’d marry you. She said that would be good.”
    “That’s a lie! She never said that!”
    “Sure she did. I’m telling you.”
    “I’ll never marry you!”
    He stared at her, and his eyes glowed like miniature furnaces with the lust that was always barely below the surface. “You’re going to be in my bed, Joelle, married or not. Better we marry, and that’s what we’ll do.”
    Joelle saw the determination in his gruff, blunt features. She twirled and ran out of the kitchen. He called out to her. “Make up your mind to it. I’m going to have you, Joelle!”
    * * *
    THE REVEREND EDWARD CAMPBELL sat at his desk, working on a sermon for Sunday. He wrote slowly with the Bible and a concordance on the desk before him. A small kitten on the desk was as white as the snow that had fallen lately, and she kept snatching at the pen as Campbell wrote.
    “You’re a pest, Charlotte. Go away.” He shoved the kitten, but she came back at him and threw herself on his hand. Campbell smiled, leaned back, and watched the kitten as she struggled to hold his fist. He loved animals, and for a time he watched her until a knock came at his door. He crossed the room that served as his study and as a Sunday school room during the Sunday morning church meeting.
    When he opened the door, he saw Joelle Mitchell. “Why, Joelle, come in.” He saw the strain on the young woman’s face and said, “Sit down over here. I made some coffee. Would you like some?”
    “No, thank you, Pastor.” Joelle took her seat and clasped her hands together. They were not steady hands, Campbell saw, and as he took his seat, he thought he knew what the young woman was going to say. Her face was pale, and there was a twitch in her lip that revealed her unsteadiness. “I’ve got to talk to you, Pastor.”
    “Of course, Joelle. What’s the trouble?”
    “It’s—it’s my stepfather.” She tried to speak, but she turned her eyes away from his staring as she twisted her fingers. “He—he says he’s going to make me marry him. He