Read Waiting for Morning for Free Online Page B

till later. She turned to the two men.
    “Thank you.”
    “Glad to help,” Stretch said. He and Feedbag left and Molly took in her surroundings. The entry hall opened to a large spacious room.
    Compared to their tent home, the house was quite grand with its red tile floor, stone fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases. A stuffed steer head hung over the mantel and Indian rugs adorned the adobe walls.
    Donny gazed longingly at the overstuffed bookshelves.
    “This way,” Rosita said. She started down a small hallway and then waited for Molly to follow with the wheelchair. Though the doorway was wider than average, the chair caught on the jamb, leaving a dent in the wood. Molly wiggled the chair back and forth until she was able to push it through.
    Donny’s room was in the same wing as the kitchen. It was a small room, obviously meant to be used by a cook or housekeeper. A single window faced the front of the house, shaded by the roof overhang. There were no stairs to worry about and for that Molly was grateful.
    After settling Donny in his room and giving him his medicine, Molly followed the Mexican housekeeper upstairs to the second floor. The woman led the way to the end of the hall. Molly’s room was considerably larger than Donny’s and opened onto a lovely balcony that stretched the length of the house.
    The cheerful room was furnished with a single bed, chest of drawers, washstand, and desk. Molly ran her hand across the bed, absorbing the smooth softness of the quilt. She couldn’t imagine sleeping in such luxury.
    Molly’s spirits rose for the first time since the fire. Suddenly aware that the housekeeper stood staring at her, Molly smiled.
    “Have you worked here long?”
    Rosita gave a curt nod. “Long enough.” Her formal manner and stiff voice seemed designed to discourage unnecessary conversation. She pointed to the garments on the bed. “Miss Walker sent clothes. I’ll fetch hot bath.”
    A hot bath? That was a luxury Molly hadn’t counted on. Back home she managed to heat water for a bath with hot rocks, but if she was in a hurry, she settled for the cold stream that ran outside their tent.
    Even more amazing were the indoor privies, one near Donny’s room and the other just down the hall from hers. She imagined this was how kings lived, not ranchers.
    “A bath would be most—”
    The housekeeper left the room, slamming the door shut with a bang and leaving Molly’s sentence half-finished.
    Molly shrugged. No matter. She glanced around, unable to believe her good luck. She touched the walls, the floor, the door leading to the balcony. She never thought to live in a house with plaster walls, wooden floors, and glass doors and windows. Strangest of all was having a room to herself. A blanket strung across the tent from a rope was the only privacy she’d ever known. She wasn’t sure she liked being so far away from Donny, though. What if he needed her in the middle of the night? Or his asthma grew worse?
    Pushing her worries away, she opened her valise and lifted out a scarlet frock.
    Even as a child she insisted upon wearing bright clothes and refused to wear the sedate hues her mother favored. Her father flinched whenever he saw her coming, raising his hands in front of his face as if to ward off a bright light.
    “You look like a peacock,” he’d say fondly. Or “Put a star on top and you’d pass as a Christmas tree.” But he always sided with her whenever her mother complained, calling her his little sunshine.
    “When a man spends his days in a mine, he welcomes a bit of color,” he’d say.
    “I can understand a bit of color,” her mother would reply, “but does she have to wear all the colors at once?”
    What neither parent had known, had no way of knowing, was that her flashy clothes, and later her makeup and hearty voice, had all been cultivated to protect her brother. No one stared at him withpitying eyes when she was around. No one stared at him at all. People were too