“We could if we had more time,” he retorted.
“Right—”
“And something decent to eat.”
Chet sniffed the air before glancing toward the kitchen. “What is that smell?”
Sissie’s cigarette, Harper thought, until she realized the oven was smoking.
Turning swiftly, she threw on the mitts and rescued the pigs and their blankets before she managed to burn herself and the whole house down.
5:Olivia
The fog in Olivia’s mind cleared as her train rambled its way across Pennsylvania. Underneath was the inkling of a story.
She’d only slept a few hours since leaving Winfield, spending most of the night scribbling notes on her tablet. By the time the train arrived at the Lititz station, she was wide awake and ready to write, speeding the three miles in her Plymouth along familiar back roads, past farmlands and through the sleepy town of Catawba before reaching her beloved home on the hill.
Dawn cast light over her trees as she stepped out of the sedan. She should have been tired, but the morning air breathed life into her like she was waking up from a long sleep, stretching her muscles, preparing to run. She longed to be seated at her Royal KHM, working out her story on the worn keys.
After dropping her suitcase in the foyer, she tossed her shawl over a peg and unbuckled her shoes. Then she scaled the thirty-six steps from the foyer to the second floor.
Hattie was asleep, her hair tucked beneath a muslin bonnet with a white ribbon tied under her chin. Olivia listened to her aunt’s breathing from the doorway, relieved when no cough interrupted her rest. She stepped toward a pitcher of water on her aunt’s bedside table and quietly refilled Hattie’s cup before turning to leave.
“Olivia?”
She whirled on her stockinged feet. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Hattie blinked before smiling. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”
Olivia was happy to see a faint pink tingeing her cheeks. “Are you still feeling under the weather?”
“I’m much better now.” Hattie shifted onto her elbows. “I’ll fry eggs and toast for our breakfast.”
“I ate enough food on the train to last me through the day,” Olivia said. “And I can manage my own tea just fine. You rest.”
Hattie shook her head. “There’s no reason to rest when my body has recovered.”
“I’ll make you breakfast,” Olivia insisted. “Then, if you’re feeling well enough, you can put together something simple for dinner.”
“You’re the one who needs to sleep.” Hattie downed the water and reached for her dove-gray housecoat, pulling on the sleeves and tying the belt at her waist. “The work will keep me occupied.”
“I’m not tired.” Exhilarated, actually. The kind words from the students and Professor Farrow had bolstered her. For the first time in three years, she had a story begging to be told.
When she looked back, Hattie was studying her face. “What happened on your trip?”
“So many things,” she said. “The students were gracious and so were some of the professors. The entire evening was...”
“Was what?”
Olivia smiled. “Enlightening.”
“Apparently.” Hattie’s eyebrows raised. “You’re practically glowing.”
She took a deep breath, afraid the beginnings of her story would disintegrate if she dared to speak of them, but her aunt knew her better than anyone. “I have an idea.”
“An idea...” The word lingered on Hattie’s lips like she was equally afraid of cursing the seedling with her inquiry. “For your next book?”
“A small one.”
