A Man for Annalee
“Listlessly stirring the soup and glancing around the beautiful room, she thought of her residence in Chicago. The narrow clapboard apartment, one of several above her father’s grocery store, had been her home since she was seven. Now it was charred rubble.
Grief had followed her to Cicero Creek as though it were a living creature, riding on her shoulder, plucking at her heartstrings, making a mournful tune that drowned the enjoyment of seeing new places and experiencing new things. Coming to Wy...oming had been no escape, for more pain awaited her. Tears overflowed her eyes and moistened her cheeks.
“How are you doing, dear?” Cora poked her head in the room. “Feeling any better?”
Annalee swiped at tears. “I’m too tired to notice if I am or not.”
Cora stepped farther into the room, taking the bowl Annalee held out to her. “Well, it’s no wonder. Doc Lufkin said you were running a fever. Drink this. It’s chamomile tea.” Her hostess handed her a cup and saucer.
Annalee sipped the hot brew and wiped more tears.MoreLess
Grief had followed her to Cicero Creek as though it were a living creature, riding on her shoulder, plucking at her heartstrings, making a mournful tune that drowned the enjoyment of seeing new places and experiencing new things. Coming to Wy...oming had been no escape, for more pain awaited her. Tears overflowed her eyes and moistened her cheeks.
“How are you doing, dear?” Cora poked her head in the room. “Feeling any better?”
Annalee swiped at tears. “I’m too tired to notice if I am or not.”
Cora stepped farther into the room, taking the bowl Annalee held out to her. “Well, it’s no wonder. Doc Lufkin said you were running a fever. Drink this. It’s chamomile tea.” Her hostess handed her a cup and saucer.
Annalee sipped the hot brew and wiped more tears.MoreLess
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