Dust Eva Everson (story reading txt) 📖

Justine Knight stood no more than five feet tall—five-foot-five if one counted the teased red hair and high-heeled shoes—and she held on to the petite frame of a woman who’d always been small but who had also borne children. Her creamy complexion only made astute, dark eyes beneath arched brows all the more pronounced. But her smile—crooked and framed by deep red lipstick—warmed me immediately. “Right on time they are, Rose Beth,” she said from beside a round wicker table topped with crisp linen and three place settings of fine china, silver, and crystal. She clapped as her gaze met Westley full-on. “There you are, dear boy. There you are.”

Westley stepped away from me long enough to wrap the woman in a bear hug, then kissed both of her cheeks. “Look at you,” he said. “You’re as pretty as a picture, not that you haven’t always been.” After she gave him a good-natured swat, he turned to me. “Miss Justine, allow me to introduce my fiancée, Miss Allison Middleton.”

Justine Knight reached for me with a stack of bracelets jangling from both wrists and most of her fingers decked in gaudy rings. Her scent, rich and heavy, enveloped me as she clasped my hands in hers, and more so as she drew me to her softness. “Land’s sakes, Rose Beth, is she not darling?” She patted my cheek. “And much more child than woman, I’d venture.”

“Yes’m,” Rose Beth said. I looked back in time to catch a single nod. “I thought so soon as I saw her standing out there on your front stoop.”

Miss Justine touched Westley’s arm. “Westley, this is Rose Beth. She’s been with me for a couple of years now, haven’t you, Rose Beth?”

Westley smiled. Nodded. Then turned back to our hostess. “What happened to Olive?”

“Passed on,” Miss Justine whispered, as if speaking the words loud enough might possibly raise her back from the dead. “Some time back now.”

“Mm-mmm-mmm,” Rose Beth chimed in. “Sweet Jesus, that one just dropped dead on the spot and went on to her glorious reward. May we all be so blessed.”

Miss Justine shooed the maid with a wave of her hand. “Now, Rose Beth, let’s get lunch served so Westley and I can have a talk.” She smiled at me. “And you, too, of course, sweet child,” which led me to wonder if I was supposed to go help Rose Beth or if I had been invited to be a part of the conversation between her and Westley.

Her brow went up in knowing. “Darlin’, just how long have you been aware of my offer to your sweetheart here?” she asked, which quelled my wondering. “Because if I know Westley—and I do—you found out less than twenty-four hours ago.”

I laced my fingers low and in front. “Yes, ma’am. He told me last night.”

“Good land of the living, Westley. Son, will you ever change? Life is not to be lived by the seat of your pants. A grown man of your breeding should know that.”

For a brief moment I thought Miss Justine might retract her offer, what with Westley being, in her eyes, so fly-by-night. But in the next moment she slid one arm around his waist and laughed. “God love it. If you weren’t such a fine pharmacist and cute to boot, I’d throw you out right now and tell you to have your lunch at the Burger King.”

I forced a smile while Westley’s laughter came easily. Something in Miss Justine’s voice let me know right away she had always been in on my future husband’s ways. Ways I wasn’t privy to. Yet. Ways his family kept mentioning and I kept telling myself were endearing. A part of his charm. One of the reasons I loved him so much.

And I did.

As lunch was served and conversation buzzed around me about the drugstore and those in neighboring towns, as talk went from profit and loss statements to salary and future expectations and the church we were slated to join, I listened. One hundred percent aware that this was my future being discussed and yet feeling completely not a part of it. Like I wasn’t going to be Westley’s partner in all this. I was no more than a textbook or a china doll that would be boxed up with the rest of our things and brought to town with him. For a moment, as my heart began to race and the lines around me started to blur, I thought to run. To jump up from the round wicker table against the glass wall overlooking a lush lawn full of gardens and statues and detailed wrought iron benches alongside a dark and brooding lake, and bolt to the car where Westley would find me, and I would beg him to take me home.

And then … “What do you think about that, Ali?”

I startled, my eyes jerking to Westley’s. “About what?”

Westley laughed, then reached over and took my trembling hand in his steady one. “She’s a bit overwhelmed,” he said to Miss Justine.

Miss Justine’s shoulders leveled. “As well she should be. Young bride-to-be. When’s the wedding, did you say?”

“December,” Westley said.

I supplied the rest of the answer. “Seventeenth.”

“And you must simply have scads to do. Well, this will be one less thing.”

I blinked several times. “What will?”

Westley squeezed the hand he continued to hold. “The house, sweetheart. Miss Justine has found us a house.”

“Completely furnished,” she said. “Now the furniture is not new, but it’s clean and I’m sure it will be to your liking. You’ll have lots of bridal showers and whatnot, so you’ll have plenty of your own nice things to make it feel less like a house and more like a home.”

“A house?” I said, my voice a squeak.

“Small,” Miss Justine said. “But just what you’ll need for now.” She leaned toward me. “Sweetheart, I hope you don’t mind, but I thought—”

I stole a glance at Westley, who appeared pleased beyond words. “No, I—it’s just that I haven’t