Home to Walnut Ridge

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Book: Read Home to Walnut Ridge for Free Online
Authors: Diane Moody
Tags: Romance, Christian, second chances
nice to
see different parts of the world. But it can be rough at times. A
drag, y’know? Same thing day after day, night after
night.”
    “ Then why do you do
it?”
    “ Because it’s what I
do.”
    Wondering what that meant, she turned
to face him. He smiled back at her, but it was the kind of smile a
guy slaps on his face when he’s said all he’s going to
say.
    “ Noah!” Buddy shouted. “I
was wondering what happened to you. I see you met my
daughter.”
    As they approached the back of the old
building, Noah finished the rest of his coffee, then said, “I had
the pleasure, yes. Though I’m afraid I gave her a bit of a
start.”
    Tracey stepped into her father’s
outstretched arms. “Morning, Daddy.”
    “ Morning, sweetheart.” He
held her close, then kissed the top of her head. “Y’all come in and
take a look. Alex is so excited, she’s like a kid in a candy shop.
Except there’s no candy. Just a lot of dust and ancient
cobwebs.”
    They followed him through the rustic
back door. She could already smell the familiar smoky scent.
“Daddy, how long’s it been since they stopped curing meat in
here?”
    “ Ah, this old shack hasn’t
been used for smoking meat since the fifties, I guess. Long before
you were born.”
    “ Maybe so, but I sure
remember the smell. Always makes me think of Granddaddy’s
barbecues. Like he used to say, ‘that was some good
eatin’.”
    Alex came through the front door with
several guys. She brushed her hands on her jeans. “Tracey! What do
you think? Isn’t it perfect?”
    “ Yeah, I mean, it needs a
lot of work, but I can see some possibilities.”
    “ Where are my manners?”
she said. “Have you met the Elders yet?”
    “ She met Noah up at the
house,” Buddy said. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my guys.
This half-pint here is Earl Givens, but we call him
Stump.”
    Tracey shook hands as her eyes trailed
the long way up to the face of a gentle giant. He had to be at
least six-eight, maybe six-ten, with the breadth to support every
inch. “Well, hello up there. I’m Tracey. Nice to meet you, Earl.”
He pulled his hat off which had covered a mass of thick,
black-brown hair. His beard covered most of his face and reached
somewhere near mid-chest.
    “ Pleasure’s all mine, Miss
Tracey. It’s okay if you wanna call me Stump. It don’t matter none
to me.”
    “ Good to know.”
    “ And this good man here is
Greg Sells. He goes by Gristle.”
    “ Gristle?” Tracey asked as
she shook hands with the young African-American.
    “ My mama called me that
ev’ since I was just a lil’ snot-nosed kid. Said I was always tough
like that chewy stuff you sometimes get on a steak. Not that we ever ate no steak.
Mamma just liked ev’body thinkin’ we dined on t-bones and rib-eyes. Name just
stuck.”
    “ Well, Gristle, if it’s
good enough for your mama, it’s fine by me. Nice to meet
you.”
    “ You ev’ bit as pretty as
they says you was.”
    “ Now, don’t you start
charmin’ my girl like that, Gristle,” Buddy said. “And certainly
not while I’m standing right here.”
    “ Trace, you’ll have to
watch out for Gristle,” Alex chimed in. “He could charm the trunk
off an elephant.”
    “ Ah, go on. Y’all know I’m
just playin’ w’cha.”
    Buddy tossed Gristle a pair of work
gloves then glanced back at Tracey. “You’ll never find a man more
gifted with a saw. Puts on his tunes and I mean, he tears it up.”
Buddy turned to the last one, a stocky young man with a shock of
wild red hair. “And this is Hank Biddle.”
    He reminded her of the troll dolls
they sold at flea markets. Tracey took his outstretched hand.
“Wait‌—‌let me guess. They call you Red, right?”
    “ No ma’am,” he said,
looking somewhat bewildered. “Folks just call me Hank
Biddle.”
    “ Well. Okay then, Hank
Biddle, nice to make your acquaintance.”
    He didn’t respond. Just stared at her
like she’d sprouted a third eye on her forehead.
    “

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