Covey spat over the porch rail and settled back. It was that brat of Caroline’s of course, still running about like a wild animal. Time she was helping around the house. He began to deliberate. Might be better to get rid of her right off. She’d soon be market size, and yellow gals brought good prices. He’d speak to Caroline about feeding her up. Better bring her in the house. Mustn’t let Caroline suspect anything, though.
He pulled himself up and turned to go inside. Maybe Caroline had something for him to eat.
Amelia stopped him in the hallway. She was wearing a hat and carrying a suitcase. Covey frowned.
“Oh, Mr. Covey! I was looking for you.” Her voice had a note of urgency.
Amelia had a way of emerging from the nondescript background with startling vividness. Months passed when he hardly saw her. Then there she was jumping out at him! What the devil did she want now? He waited for her to explain.
“I’m going away.”
Just like that. No stumbling around the words. Covey let his flat eyes travel over her. Not a bad-looking woman, Amelia. More spirit than her sister. He spoke slowly.
“I ain’t putting you out.”
Amelia’s response sounded grateful enough. “Oh, I know, Mr. Covey. It’s not that. But now that poor Lucy’s gone, I’ve no right to—to impose.”
Covey remembered that he had been keeping a roof over her head all these years. And what had he got out of it? Nothing. His eyes narrowed.