“The next time I get my hands on him…”
“…he won’t stand a chance.”
Rebekah Weaver took careful aim at the dark green oval in the center of the rug, then swung the beater with all her strength.
Whack! That was better. Right on target and sure to be felt. She struck the rug two more times for good measure, then stood back and observed her handiwork with a satisfied smile.
“You keep hitting the rug that way, Rebekah, and there won’t be much of a pattern left.”
At her mother’s voice, Rebekah’s smile dissolved. She turned and lifted her apron to wipe the perspiration from her forehead and neck. “I didn’t hear you get back.” She must look a sight—what with all the dust she’d removed from the rug reattaching itself to her skin. “Do you need help unloading the supplies?”
“If it keeps you from stripping my favorite rug of every thread, yes.” After setting one large basket on the porch, her mom headed back for another. “What’s got you riled? I know that poor carpet is innocent.”
Rebekah leaned the rug beater against the house and emulated her mother’s regal walk as she followed her to the buggy. “Your son...” She blew out a breath that could start a windstorm.
Laughing, her mother handed her a sack of flour before grabbing the sugar and a package wrapped in brown paper. “Well, let’s see. Since Michael is studying law in St. Louis, I guess you must be talking about Andrew.”
“Who else? Mama, trouble sticks to him like stink on a pig.”
“Now, Rebekah, he’s only ten.”
“I’m serious.” They plunked their loads beside the basket on the porch and returned for the last of the supplies. “Andrew doesn’t have to go looking for trouble—it stays with him like they’re best friends.”
Janelle is giving away a copy of her book, Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho. Be sure to stop by The Borrowed Book on Friday for your chance to win!