Keeping Secrets Read Online Free

warm, sweet breath whooshing in and out close to Sadie’s shoulder. Then Sadie would cup her hand beneath Paris’ nose and tell her everything that caused a dark mood to settle down over her, this cloak of grayness that made her breathe heavily, evenly, not wanting to perish because of it, but feeling as if she might.
    Why couldn’t she let go of Mark Peight? Here he was again, having bought the small, tumbledown place on the other side of Atkin’s Ridge, and there she went riding happily along with Reuben one sunny afternoon, not a care in the world. And who should be up on the roof of the old Zimmerman place but Mark Peight himself?
    Then that dry-mouthed, heart-hammering nonsense started all over again simply by the mere sight of him on that roof—the breadth of his shoulders, the way he turned his head, his blue-black hair tousled by the wind, his deep brown eyes looking straight into her heart. Suddenly she couldn’t find one word to say.
    He came back to Montana because of her, but what good did it do? Dat and Mam stood together as immovable as a rock. A fortress of parents. Staunch, and side by side. She was not allowed to date this mysterious stranger.
    Was he a stranger? He had lived within their community for quite a while. He attended church, went to the hymn-singings, and joined the youth. He said he was raised Amish back in Pennsylvania.
    But was he raised Amish, really? Who could know if he was telling the truth?
    He had a past, that was sure. He was a troubled man, had been troubled in his teen years. But why? He had come so close to telling her his life’s story, but then left suddenly to return to Pennsylvania. He sent a brief note to her but with hardly any explanation inside.
    Sadie sighed, looked out the dirty window, and wished Mark Peight would get out of her life. But she knew if he did, her world would be completely devoid of meaning, as gray and miserable as the surface of the moon.
    She was pulled back to reality when the truck came to a stop.
    “There ya go, little lady.”
    “Thanks, Jim. See you in a little while.”
    A shifting of the toothpick was her only answer, but she knew he’d soon be in the kitchen to see Dorothy, the love of his life.
    The long, low ranch house was as beautiful as ever that morning, the yellow glow of the morning sun casting it in gold. The yard was immaculate, the shrubs and perennials tended lovingly by the aging gardener, Bertie Orthman.
    Bertie rounded the corner of the house, his shoulders sloped and stooped with age, his blue denim shirt hanging loosely on his sparse frame. His hair was as white as snow, and probably just as clean, his mustache trimmed just so, just like the shrubs he kept in perfect form. He stopped when he saw Sadie.
    “Now, ain’t that a sight for an ol’ man’s eyes?”
    Sadie turned to look behind her.
    “What?” she asked, her blue eyes two beautiful pools of innocence.
    Bertie grinned, then shook his head.
    “Sadie girl, you really are one different person. Don’t anybody ever give you no compliment? I meant you . You look so pretty wearing that there bluish dress. Just reminds me o’ my Matilda, God rest ’er soul.”
    “Why, thank you, Bertie. I thought you meant someone or something was behind me.”
    Bertie bent to pluck a weed, then tenderly ran a hand over the top of a boxwood.
    “Watch this!”
    Sadie watched as he showed her his technique for running the gas-powered trimmer. He was so precise that the shrubs looked like a horticulturist’s dream.
    “You’re good, Bertie. You really are. You have this place looking wonderful.”
    “Yep, I do.”
    Bertie grew visibly taller at Sadie’s compliment, straightening his shoulders, puffing out his thin chest.
    Not much humility in that one, Sadie thought as she smiled at Bertie. Still, he was a dear old man who would never hurt a flea. She felt blessed to work with people who truly were the salt of the earth.
    Sadie went around to the side of the house, stepped up