The Lone Texan. Lass Small
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That wasn’t suggestion, it was direction. It had the very strong sense of her mother and father. However, Ellen was not someone these persons could direct. She was a free soul. She could do as she chose.
“Since you have all that water sloshing around inside you, Ciggie will take you to the bathroom first.”
“I can take myself.”
Mrs. Keeper smiled in a very courteous manner and said, “This time, let us help you. You need to know where to go and the layout of the house and yard. Ciggie will help you today. Call me if you need me.”
She left.
Directions. That’s what Mina Keeper was doing to Ellen. She was being structured. Their way. Now. Damn.
Having been raised as she was, Ellen did manage to smile at the abandoned Ciggie as she said, “Well, that’s clear enough. I feel very like a prisoner.”
Not at all taking that as bitterness, Ciggie giggled. “She loves you. You ought to see how gentle she gets when she’s mad. Well, she don’t get mad but she can be—uh—let’s see if I can find the word. Yeah. Annoyed.” That was enunciated just right.
Ciggie made Ellen smile.
Two
With time moving into the middle of another day, it was Ciggie who led the still fragile Ellen down the hall to the side door of the Keeper house. She was careful of the guest. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
Just the way Ellen said that made Ciggie stop and eye the guest with some squinted doubt.
As happens in romances, Mina’s son, Tom, came along right then. He hesitated and looked carefully at the women. Then he asked Ciggie, “She okay?”
Being a sentimental person, Ciggie replied, “You ought to see to her getting out on the porch for some air. Be sure she’s in the shade but be surer she’s warm.” Ciggie grinned and her eyes danced...then she turned away and damned near fled!
That left a fragile Ellen standing there by the closed door, which led onto the side porch.
Tom hadn’t actually noticed that Ciggie had left them. His eyes were on the fragile woman. He said, “Tell her I’m a Keeper.”
There was no reply, so Tom looked over and found that Ciggie had vanished. She was no where around at all! How clever.
Since the two were alone, Tom looked at the guest... whoever she was...and he realized she was seriously fragile. He asked, “Are you going out into the sun?”
She altered the word rather vacantly, “Shade.”
Tom waited, but she didn’t move, so he suggested, “Let me hold the door for you.”
She nodded but she didn’t even look at him.
He opened the door, then the screen door and stepped outside as he held it for her.
She almost didn’t move. But finally she did step forward so carefully that Tom put out a hand and clasped her elbow to stabilize her.
She murmured, “Thank you.”
She didn’t look at him or flirt or anything. But she did hesitate.
He took a firmer grip on her arm and led her over to the sun side, and he seated her under a large umbrella that was tall and wide. It was also seriously anchored in the center hole of the table and was not at all movable. Winds only ruffled the fringe around the edge of the big umbrella.
Ellen sat in the shade and again said, “Thank you,” dismissing Tom.
Being independent, Tom sat down in another chair and watched her.
He wasn’t sure if she was ill or a morning drunk, but there was no smell of liquor. She was skinny and probably had been ailing. Tom wondered who had dropped her off on the Keeper doorstep. The guest had not found the Keepers by herself.
He asked her, “Are you all right?”
She nodded once.
That was supposed to be communication? He frowned at her. If she was sick, why had Ciggie directed her to come outside into the sun on the porch?
He asked the woman, “Do you want to be outside? You don’t seem strong enough to be out here alone.”
“I’ll ring the bell if I need help.” She indicated the table bell used for refilling glasses or plates.
Tom asked with narrowed eyes, “What meal are you eating?”
“None.”
“Then...why are you out here?”
That was a logical question. Their parents were friends. They were in an extended group who commented on others. They were distantly in touch. She managed to move her eyes over and look at Mina’s son. “I’ve met you in San Antonio. You were interested in some woman there.”
“Kayla.”
“Yes. She would be worth the attention. But she remarried that lawyer.”
“Yes.”
Then Ellen looked at Tom, having been rejected herself, and she asked him, “Were you—disappointed she married another man?”
He shrugged. “It happens...one way or another. To a man or a woman.” He looked around for someone who might be monitoring this fragile female and, seeing no one, it was he who stayed to be sure she didn’t faint, all alone, out on the porch.
It was difficult to see inside the house because the glass was tinted so the sun didn’t stream in too pushily. That way, Tom did not see the two women backed away and watching the couple on the porch. The two did not speak. That was because Mrs. Keeper had told Ciggie to hush. Therefore, Mrs. Keeper could strain her ears and listen.
However, it was interesting that Mina Keeper hadn’t told Ciggie to run along and mind her own business. But while they didn’t speak, they both watched the odd couple on the porch.
The reason Mina hadn’t told Ciggie to run along was if Tom left and Ellen needed help, Mrs. Keeper could send Ciggie out—casually—and in that subtle way could give help to their guest
Ciggie knew that was exactly so, but she understood Mrs. Keeper and didn’t mind at all. Anything Mrs. Keeper did was logical and planned.
How amazing that Ciggie understood Mina Keeper. Very few others did. Most thought the senior Mrs. Keeper was nosy and intrusive.
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