Nightsong Read Online Free Page B

to the January sun; suspiciously discolored fists curled around the fence slats like a brown stain. Coatless and hatless, the child nonetheless wore an expression of unmistakable apathy. Phillip assimilated his first, fleeting impressions and offered a tentative greeting. “You must be A.J.”
    No answer, just a blink and a finger lifted to scratch the snub nose.
    With a frown, Phillip tried to recall some gem of wisdom on the best method of communicating with children. “Do you live here?”
    Still nothing. Just a disinterested stare and a pursing of little-boy lips as if he were about to whistle.
    “Is your mother home?” Phillip was prepared to be ignored again, and he wasn’t disappointed. Struck by sudden inspiration, he pulled a quarter from his pocket and began to toss it casually, but in clear view. There was now a definite interest in the blue eyes, and Phillip held the silence for a calculated minute. “I’m Mr. Kessler and your mother is expecting me. Why don’t you go inside and tell her I’m here?”
    The quarter dropped to the sidewalk and spun gaily, as if challenging its observers to a frantic scramble for possession. A.J. watched, his muscles tensed as if he wanted to grab the coin and run but wasn’t sure he should. Finally, Phillip bent to retrieve the coin. With a half-concealed sigh, he offered the quarter as either bribe or entry fee—he didn’t know which. As smudgy fingers left the gate slat and closed around the money, Phillip half-expected to see boyish baby teeth bite the quarter to test its authenticity. But A.J. merely concealed it in his fist and returned to guard duty.
    “I’m going to open the gate now, A.J.,” Phillip said cautiously, and advanced two steps until he could lift up the latch. The gate swung back with a squeak, giving A.J. a bumpy ride and winning Phillip a split second, and not unappealing, grin. But with that glimpse of little-boy humor, A.J. dashed to the house and left Phillip to close the gate and conduct his own way to the front door.
    As Phillip walked up the steps onto the veranda, he heard Elleny’s voice and paused outside the open doorway to listen. She was scolding her son for not wearing a coat and for getting dirty when she’d expressly told him not to. It wasn’t really what she said that kept Phillip quietly eavesdropping, it was the tone, the husky tension. As if she were uncertain about having company for Sunday dinner, as if it was more important than usual that A.J. behave. The thought brought a confident tilt to the corner of Phillip’s mouth, although he would have been hard pressed to explain it.
    “Oh, you’re here.”
    Phillip looked through the screen door and felt the doubts return like rain on parade day. She looked ... enchanting. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a more appropriate word. He noticed the complementary cling of her clothing, the upswept Gibson girl style of her hair, and the soft charm of her smile.
    Elleny stepped forward to push open the screen door and hold it as he walked into the house. “A.J. never closes a door if he can help it,” she said. “But on the bright side, at least he didn’t slam it shut in your face.”
    “He led the way from the gate.” Phillip paused to observe the interior of the house, although his instinct was to continue his observation of Elleny. “I had to pay him….” Realizing that in this situation, diplomacy was called for, he altered the sentence. “…a closer look before I decided he belonged to you.”
    She laughed quietly as she closed the door. “He favors the Damons in appearance and just about every other way as well.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I thought he seemed a little shy ... like you.” Phillip hadn’t thought anything of the sort until the words left his mouth, but with the gentle pleasure that touched her lips, he decided the result was worth the invention.
    As Elleny steered her smile and her gaze toward the living room, he took the opportunity