Ladd Springs (Ladd Springs, Book #1) Read Online Free Page A

took the leather strap to her. Delaney grabbed a sanded smooth
railing, kicking her boots hard against the top porch step to remove as much
dirt as she could.
    Thinking
back, Delaney couldn’t imagine her mom enduring anything so brutal, yet she
never once mentioned it, never once spoke a cross word against her father. Granted
her mom didn’t speak many kind words either, but from what Delaney had learned,
the man deserved a tongue lashing and then some. Checking her boots, she
grunted. The stuff stuck like glue, more a mix of wet dirt and heavy clay. Nothing
short of scrubbing the boots clean or soaking them in the creek would do the
trick, but she kicked off as much as she could.
    Whatever . She jogged up
the steps. None of it would see the inside of the cabin. Delaney had a rule
against shoes in the house, same as her mother before her. Stopping at the
engraved glass front door—the glass panel an antique she picked up at a local
junkyard—Delaney tugged her boots free and set them alongside the welcome mat. Felicity
could sweep the rest of it off the porch this evening, once she returned from
her visit with Ernie.
    Carrying
her gun inside, she indulged in the smooth wood floors beneath her socked feet.
Turning on the chandelier, a petite wrought iron piece she’d picked up at an
antique store in town, she breathed easy. Coming home was like stepping into
another world, a world free of trouble and stress, where she could unplug and
get back to the basics of living. Like food. The bag of fresh okra in her
refrigerator promised a delicious addition to her fried chicken tonight. Her
energy pitched and heaved in a sudden wave of exhaustion, but she had to hurry.
Felicity would be home shortly and she needed to get dinner started.
     
    An
hour later, Delaney reached into the oven and pulled the tray of cornbread from
the oven, the sweet scent of corn billowing in a hot cloud around her face. At
the sound of scuffling on the porch deck, she turned to see her daughter’s
slender figure through the glass.
    Within
seconds, Felicity let herself in, her pink socks stark against the wood floors
as she breezed indoors. “Smells good in here.”
    “Best
air freshener known to man,” Delaney replied, bumping the oven door closed with
her knee, placing the pan of golden bread loaves on the waiting quilted pad. The
fried chicken was cooling on a platter lined with paper towels and covered with
foil while the okra continued to sizzle stovetop in a cast iron pan.
    “You
won’t hear any complaints from me.” Easing the backpack from her shoulder,
Felicity set it down beside the leather sofa and joined her mother in the
kitchen. “I’m hungry.”
    “Good.
I made extra. Thought you could take a few with you for Ernie.”
    She
nodded. “He loves your cornbread.”
    But
never said a word to her about it. Not once, not ever, not so much as a thank
you. He reserved compliments for one person only. Felicity. Delaney considered
her child. From her delicate features and soft-spoken manner to the tender
shade of strawberry blonde hair currently pulled back into a ponytail, Felicity
reminded Ernie of his sister Susannah. Not only was she the spitting image, she
treated him with the same gentle affection, despite his carrying on. Delaney
lightly pinched Felicity’s chin. “He’s lucky to have you.”
    She
waved off the praise. “He’s not so bad. And he gives me an opportunity to
practice. Let’s me play anything I want.”
    “Because
everything you play is beautiful.”
    She
rolled her eyes. “Mom.”
    It
was a ritual Felicity had begun less than a year ago, but one Ernie now lived
for. Each and every night, she sat and played her flute for him. Soft and
serene, like a beast lulled to submission, he sat and listened to her play. Song
after song, she practiced her craft. Fluting was Felicity’s passion. One day,
she hoped to play professionally as part of an orchestra, but that was only a
dream. Her grades were good, earning her a