Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
The next portrait was of an even younger King on a huge black horse. He had a cowboy hat on and was in mid-gallop. It was a stunning photograph.
“That boy was born loving to ride,” Maeme said from the bottom of the staircase.
I turned to look at her, and she smiled up at me.
“If he wasn’t throwing a ball back, then he was on a horse,” she said with a soft laugh. “I miss those days.” Then, she waved a hand at me. “Come on down. Let’s go have some breakfast and talk about what we’re gonna do. I reckon you can think of little else. I’m sure you’ve concocted a story that you think will convince me to let you leave. Might as well save your breath. I’m not hearing it.”
I walked slowly down the rest of the stairs, stopping at the bottom to meet her eyes. “You’ve been so kind to me. I will forever be grateful, but—”
“Not listening to it,” she interrupted, holding up her hand. “I said to save your breath. You’re gonna sit and have breakfast, and I’m gonna tell you what’s going to happen.” She started toward the kitchen. “Are you a coffee or tea drinker in the mornings?”
Unable to think of anything I could possibly say to this woman, I replied, “Coffee, please.”
She glanced back over her shoulder and gave me an approving nod, as if I had chosen correctly. I hadn’t been aware that was a test, but it felt as if it had been in a way.
The delicious smell of things I hadn’t eaten in a long time for breakfast met my nose before we even made it into the large, bright kitchen.
“Bacon, Conecuh sausage, biscuits, tomato gravy, cheese grits, and scrambled eggs,” she said as she walked over to the large island bar in the middle of the room. “It’s not as formal as dinner was last night. Just get yourself a plate and fill it up.”
Then, she picked up a plate and held it out to me. I reached for it and took in all the food that was sitting out.
“Eat all you want. King and Storm came in and ate earlier before they headed over to the ranch. Don’t reckon the others are coming, or they’d have already stopped by,” she said, picking up a slice of bacon and taking a bite of it.
I hadn’t thought I was hungry until now, but everything looked so good and completely off the list of items I was allowed to eat. Taking a slice of bacon and a biscuit, I stopped at what I assumed was the tomato gravy. I’d never heard of it, but it smelled nice.
“Tomato gravy. My granny’s recipe. It’ll have you getting a second biscuit just to soak it all up.”
Okay then, why not? I took the ladle and poured some over my biscuit, then took a small spoonful of the grits and some eggs. My breakfast was normally two egg whites, a half cup of blueberries, and one slice of low-carb whole wheat bread, no butter.
“Sugar and cream in your coffee?” Maeme asked.
“Uh, do you have any Splenda or Stevia?”
She grinned. “Can’t say I do. But I have some fresh honey.”
“Sugar will be fine,” I replied, then added, “And the cream too.” I always used almond milk, but I already knew that wasn’t going to be in her fridge.
“Have a seat at the bar,” Maeme said as she put a cup of coffee down in front of an empty stool, then went to refresh her cup.
I took the seat and waited, unsure if we were supposed to pray or not. Last night, it had seemed important, and I didn’t want to insult her after she was so kind to me. She didn’t add anything to her coffee, and it didn’t surprise me that she drank it black. Maeme might look soft and sweet, but the woman was tough. She had controlled a room full of tall, muscular, intimidating men last night with one glance. I had expected boys, but they had all been men and older than me at that.
“Go ahead and eat up. I’ll do most of the talking,” she said, walking over to stand on the other side of the island from me.
No praying over breakfast. Got it.
I picked up my fork and decided I would try the biscuit with tomato gravy first. If it was terrible, I’d get it down, then wash away the taste with the items I knew I would enjoy. Besides, I needed to eat good now because I wasn’t sure when I would get another chance to eat a real meal again.
“You’ve been abused,” she began. “Your bare ring finger has a tan line. So, the bastard is your husband. I’ve seen this before, and I know it when I see it. No use in lying to me. You’re on the run. You have no family to run to, or you would have called them already. You took off and were so desperate that you went to a service station, looking for a kind soul who could give you a ride.”