God Bless Us Every One. Eva Marie Everson

God Bless Us Every One - Eva Marie Everson


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sighed. “Only two more months and then . . .”

      “And then,” Sis added, “you’ll really have an excuse to be late.”

      Charlie peered beyond William’s shoulder to see Dusty walking toward them against the direction of the small crowd of exiting parishioners. She smiled.

      He returned it.

      Ashlynne and William noticed her gaze and turned. “Dustin,” Ashlynne said as William extended his hand, and Dusty took it.

      Charlie glanced at the young tyke standing next to his father, hands held together in a protective fist. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Charlie, an old friend of your dad.”

      “Miss Charlie,” Dusty interjected quickly.

      Charlie smiled as the young boy turned pink, feeling certain her cheeks matched his own. “Miss Charlie,” she corrected herself. She looked at the adult faces. “Sometimes I forget where I am.”

      Dusty cleared his throat. “This is my son,” he said. “Jeremy.”

      “I’m five,” the child said.

      Charlie sat on an arm of the pew so as to bring herself to an equal eye level with him. “Then I suppose you’re in kindergarten.”

      Jeremy grinned, exposing a gap where a front tooth had once been. “And I like Miss Thornton a lot.” Without the tooth, the name came with an emphasis on the th, which brought an easy smile to Charlie’s face.

      “His teacher,” Dusty said. He squeezed his son’s hand. “We all like Miss Thornton, don’t we, son?”

      Charlie searched her memory for the name. “I don’t remember a Miss Thornton, I’m afraid.”

      “She’s new at the school,” Sis said. “Like Dustin.”

      A hint of jealousy tickled the back of Charlie’s neck. Was Miss Thornton someone who might have caught Dusty’s attention? And, if so, why should she care, really? She wasn’t staying long, after all . . . only until—

      “I guess you’ll be shoving off sometime today,” William said suddenly.

      Charlie glanced up, then stood. “No, actually. I—”

      “Charlie has decided to stay until after Christmas,” Sis said.

      The crowd in the center aisle of the church had thinned to only two or three. Charlie raised her chin toward it. “I suppose we are free to move about the cabin,” she joked.

      Their small cluster moved farther into the aisle, then ambled slowly toward the front door. Dusty asked, “What was that funny look about?”

      Charlie cut a sideward glance. “What look?”

      “When Jeremy mentioned Miss Thornton.”

      Charlie stopped. “I had a look?”

      “Green-eyed. And over a woman who is fifty-five if she’s a day.”

      Charlie opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. “And she’s new here?” she asked innocently enough.

      Dusty laughed in answer. As they continued forward, he added, “I know he’s not your type,” Dusty said, his attention fully on Charlie, “but if you’re going to be here until the first of the year and you want to help with the play . . .”

      “Who’s not your type?” Ashlynne asked her.

      “Dickens.”

      Will chuckled. “How can Dickens not be anyone’s type?”

      “Hear, hear,” Dusty exclaimed over his shoulder.

      “Hear, hear,” Jeremy parroted.

      Dusty stopped and turned. “We’re planning to form a Dickensian choir of sorts.”

      “Of four or—?” Charlie asked.

      “Four. Yes.”

      “Then you won’t have a Dickensian choir per se. You’ll have Dickens carolers.”

      Dusty feigned a cough into his fist as he said, “You got me there.”

      Sis placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “What do you think? You’re certainly suited for it and—”

      “The entire event is for such a good cause,” Ashlynne said, her face lighting up. She beamed at her husband, and he smiled back.

      “Which is?” Charlie asked.

      “The homeless shelter over in Morganton,” Dusty answered. “And the indigent here. Your grandmother’s idea really.”

      “But isn’t that over in Burke—”

      Sis pushed them onward. “If we don’t hurry up and leave this church,” she stated with authority, “we won’t get home in time for supper, much less Sunday dinner.”

      Charlie frowned at her grandmother. Knowing her as well as she did, Sis’s behavior meant she was hiding something. Some reason why she didn’t want her granddaughter to know she’d come up with a donation to charity.

      And more to the point, why that particular charity? And why in Burke County?

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