Read Ride the River (1983) for Free Online Page B

White, I am not a very patient man. As I grow older, I find time very important. I also have had occasion to discuss some of your activities with various members of the bar. Miss Sackett has apprised me of your attempt to get her to sign away most of her inheritance, and I am in no mood for dillydallying. The money, sir!"
    Reluctantly White got up and went to his safe. For a moment he hesitated; then he turned the handle and opened the door.
    When he had counted the money, he pushed it across the desk. "There!" he said. "Now, here's the receipt."
    "One thing more." Finian Chantry's voice was cold. "The iron puzzle cube."
    White gripped the edge of his desk. He stared at Chantry, trying to frighten him. "That cube? It's nothing but a child's toy."
    "My client likes toys, and she is very good at puzzles, Mr. White. The cube, please."
    White returned to the safe and brought the cube to the desk. "It isn't anything." He waved a careless hand. "Just a sort of puzzle for youngsters."
    "Thank you, Mr. White." Chantry turned to me. "Now, Miss Sackett? Will you sign his paper?"
    When we were seated in the carriage, Finian Chantry suggested, "Now that your business is over, would you consent to have dinner with me? You have no idea what it would do for me to be seen with such a young and beautiful lady."
    Well! An elegant supper with Finian Chantry! When I was back in my room, I got out the dress I had made for just such an evening. It was not a dress made for this trip, but one I had made after dreaming of all those fancy places Regal had talked about.
    Godey'shad a lot of pictures of dresses, although none of them had much of an explanation, and Regal was no help at all.
    Amy Sulky helped, and then - and I was fairly amazed - the tall woman who I'd said looked like she was weaned on a sour pickle, she came to help. She was much better at pressing than I was, and she ironed out my dress. Then she said, "Where are your gloves?"
    "Gloves?" I stared, in a sudden panic.
    "You must have gloves. No lady of fashion appears in public without them!"
    In the end, she loaned me a beautiful shawl. "From India," she said, with no explanation at all. And she loaned me some lace mittens which were all the fashion. The shawl was rich cashmere, almost too beautiful to touch.
    The dress was a full triple skirt, blue as the sky. I'd only two petticoats, so the sour-pickle lady, whose name turned out to be Alicia, loaned me another. Oddly enough, although she was tall, the petticoat was perfect for me.
    When I spoke of it, she said, with never a flicker of expression, "It belonged to my daughter."
    "Oh! I hope she won't mind."
    "My daughter is dead." She spoke flatly and turned away. I did not know what to say, so I said nothing at all.
    When I was all ready and waiting for Mr. Chantry, both Amy and Alicia stood waiting with me. "You are very beautiful," Alicia said. "You should stay in Philadelphia. "
    "I love the mountains, and besides, while Regal is laid up, who would hunt for them?"
    "You mean youhunt ? You? You actually kill things?"
    "Yes, ma'am. Whatever meat we have is wild meat, shot by me when the boys are away. We have hogs, razorbacks they call them, but they run wild in the forest and we only gather them up to sell them in town. There's no more fun ever than being on a hog or turkey drive, going miles across the hills to the towns.
    "That is, it's a sight of fun while the weather's nice, but if it comes on to rain, it can be awful. We have to find a place to pen them for the night. Mostly folks along the way are helpful, but if a body's caught in the forest, it can be right mean."
    There I was standing in my triple skirt with lace mittens and all, that auburn hair which everybody says is beautiful falling over my shoulders, and talking of driving wild hogs and hunting game.
    "If I were you," Amy advised, "I'd say nothing of driving hogs to the people you may meet tonight. They wouldn't understand."
    "Yes, ma'am, but ever'body in the