really don’t see how that concerns you, Gabe,” Richard said, disgruntled.
“You’re welfare has been my concern for nine years,” Gabriel snapped. “Don’t think now as though that is going to change anytime soon.”
“Like I said, Gabe, we’re friends, and I’m seeing if it becomes more. I hope it does. And I hope you can come to like her. Think of her as a friend.”
“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Jeremy said as he looked up from his book and winked at Richard.
“Jer, you’re not helping,” Gabriel said. He cast a disgruntled look at his youngest brother, but Jeremy just smiled back with an impish grin.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Gabe. Rich’s found someone he’s interested in. Good for him. I hope we’ll both be so lucky. And I hope we like her. But it’s really up to him to figure it all out.”
“Thanks, Jer,” Rich said.
Gabriel sighed and returned to his paper.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GABRIEL STRETCHED HIS SHOULDERS and lowered his chisel. Bright autumn sunshine brightened the room. The sounds of gentle snoring rose and fell in a melodious cadence from the pallet in a far corner where Mr. Smithers took his habitual afternoon nap. Gabriel moved quietly to the stove, setting a pot on to boil and to prepare a simple repast for his brothers. He heard the clunking of footsteps up the stairs and knew one of them was to arrive momentarily.
The door burst open, letting in a waft of cold air, the hint of autumn clinging to Jeremy. Jeremy glanced toward Mr. Smithers’s sleeping form and grimaced at the amount of noise he’d made upon entering the room. He mouthed the word “sorry” to Gabriel as Jeremy took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair at the table. Gabriel fixed the pot of tea, placing the pot, cups and sugar bowl on the table soundlessly. He watched as Jeremy fixed himself a cup and wolfed down a piece of the soda bread Mr. Duncannon had brought during his visit.
“This is nearly as bad as Mum’s,” Jeremy whispered as he choked down the bread with a swig of tea.
Gabriel grunted his agreement. “I think that’s why Mr. Duncannon was so relieved to give it away. Mr. Smithers was out this time, and I’d always wondered why he’d been so cagey on refusing Mr. Duncannon’s offer of baked goods in the past.”
Jeremy gasped, nearly choking on a piece of bread. Gabriel pounded him on the back, and Jeremy swallowed the piece of bread. “Seems like the man wants to continue living and so gives the bread away.”
“Doesn’t much care for his friends though to keep trying to gift us with that slop,” Mr. Smithers said from his pallet. “I dread his weekly visits. For days before he comes to the workshop, I think of reasons why I can’t accept his offerings. I’ve about run out of ideas.”
“You could tell him the bread about killed me,” Jeremy said.
“Do you think the man’d care? He’s trying to prevent his own death.” Mr. Smithers sighed as one does when relaxed and with friends. “No, he’s no regard for those around him. Knows the longer it’s in the house, the staler it will become and the more difficult to swallow.”
“This can’t be freshly baked,” Jeremy said incredulously, holding up the crumbly bread and staring at it.
“She baked it this morning, son. Imagine how much worse it would be tomorrow, toasted? That’s poor Duncannon’s fate. Married to a buxom woman with no ability in the kitchen and no sense to know it. Thus, she’s nearly poisoned him on six occasions that come to mind. I have a feeling there’s more, but he’s not as quick to share them anymore as I laughed a bit too heartily at his last tale.”
“Poor man,” Gabriel said.
Mr. Smithers sat up, his gaze meeting Jeremy’s. “Brave man, for eating her food.”
Jeremy paled as he set down the piece of bread he’d been gnawing on.
“So, sonny, are you here to learn more from your brother?” Mr. Smithers asked as he rose with a groan,
“You’re welfare has been my concern for nine years,” Gabriel snapped. “Don’t think now as though that is going to change anytime soon.”
“Like I said, Gabe, we’re friends, and I’m seeing if it becomes more. I hope it does. And I hope you can come to like her. Think of her as a friend.”
“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Jeremy said as he looked up from his book and winked at Richard.
“Jer, you’re not helping,” Gabriel said. He cast a disgruntled look at his youngest brother, but Jeremy just smiled back with an impish grin.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Gabe. Rich’s found someone he’s interested in. Good for him. I hope we’ll both be so lucky. And I hope we like her. But it’s really up to him to figure it all out.”
“Thanks, Jer,” Rich said.
Gabriel sighed and returned to his paper.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GABRIEL STRETCHED HIS SHOULDERS and lowered his chisel. Bright autumn sunshine brightened the room. The sounds of gentle snoring rose and fell in a melodious cadence from the pallet in a far corner where Mr. Smithers took his habitual afternoon nap. Gabriel moved quietly to the stove, setting a pot on to boil and to prepare a simple repast for his brothers. He heard the clunking of footsteps up the stairs and knew one of them was to arrive momentarily.
The door burst open, letting in a waft of cold air, the hint of autumn clinging to Jeremy. Jeremy glanced toward Mr. Smithers’s sleeping form and grimaced at the amount of noise he’d made upon entering the room. He mouthed the word “sorry” to Gabriel as Jeremy took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair at the table. Gabriel fixed the pot of tea, placing the pot, cups and sugar bowl on the table soundlessly. He watched as Jeremy fixed himself a cup and wolfed down a piece of the soda bread Mr. Duncannon had brought during his visit.
“This is nearly as bad as Mum’s,” Jeremy whispered as he choked down the bread with a swig of tea.
Gabriel grunted his agreement. “I think that’s why Mr. Duncannon was so relieved to give it away. Mr. Smithers was out this time, and I’d always wondered why he’d been so cagey on refusing Mr. Duncannon’s offer of baked goods in the past.”
Jeremy gasped, nearly choking on a piece of bread. Gabriel pounded him on the back, and Jeremy swallowed the piece of bread. “Seems like the man wants to continue living and so gives the bread away.”
“Doesn’t much care for his friends though to keep trying to gift us with that slop,” Mr. Smithers said from his pallet. “I dread his weekly visits. For days before he comes to the workshop, I think of reasons why I can’t accept his offerings. I’ve about run out of ideas.”
“You could tell him the bread about killed me,” Jeremy said.
“Do you think the man’d care? He’s trying to prevent his own death.” Mr. Smithers sighed as one does when relaxed and with friends. “No, he’s no regard for those around him. Knows the longer it’s in the house, the staler it will become and the more difficult to swallow.”
“This can’t be freshly baked,” Jeremy said incredulously, holding up the crumbly bread and staring at it.
“She baked it this morning, son. Imagine how much worse it would be tomorrow, toasted? That’s poor Duncannon’s fate. Married to a buxom woman with no ability in the kitchen and no sense to know it. Thus, she’s nearly poisoned him on six occasions that come to mind. I have a feeling there’s more, but he’s not as quick to share them anymore as I laughed a bit too heartily at his last tale.”
“Poor man,” Gabriel said.
Mr. Smithers sat up, his gaze meeting Jeremy’s. “Brave man, for eating her food.”
Jeremy paled as he set down the piece of bread he’d been gnawing on.
“So, sonny, are you here to learn more from your brother?” Mr. Smithers asked as he rose with a groan,
Similar Books
