God Bless Us Every One. Eva Marie Everson
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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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