When the Tide Ebbs: An epic 1930's love story (A Grave Encounter) by Kay Chandler Page B

the reins and Dolly lit out like her tail was on fire. The wagon jerked and bolted over the bumpy clay road. Mama grabbed her hat, leaned across Dabney and shot me a look which I’d learned to interpret at a very early age. I pulled back on the reins. “Whoa, Dolly. Whoa, Babe.” I looked at mama. Neither of us said a word. We didn’t have to.
    I didn’t pay much attention to the female chatter as we rode along until I heard Mama ask about the Christmas party. My ears perked.
    Dabney said, “We had a good turn-out. I ’spect there were fifty people or more there. It was a shame that Zann and Mrs. Pruitt weren’t able to go. Zann had a pretty dress her mama made for the occasion—it was white with baby blue netting and a wide, satin cummerbund. I ain’t never seen nothing to beat it.”
    “Sure sounds pretty, all right,” Mama said. “I once had a pretty blue dress made outta satin. Made it myself, but things didn’t turn out the way I planned, so I never got to wear it. But that’s all water under the bridge, as they say. Too bad Zann didn’t get to wear hers.”
    Dabney giggled. “The parson didn’t take too kindly to it being strapless. I think he thought it was scandalous, but Mrs. Pruitt convinced him it was nothing of the sort.”
    My irritation mounted. I wasn’t interested in a silly old dress. I wanted to know why Zann wasn’t at the party.
    I tried to sound only casually interested. “Too bad she was sick.” I cut my eyes to the side and observed Dabney’s reaction. She worked for the Pruitt’s. If anyone knew what was wrong with Zann, she’d know. When she failed to comment, I tried once more. “Uh, I reckon she was sick. Why else would she have missed a chance to wear her new dress?”
    Dabney frowned. “Yeah. Sick.” There was something strange about the way she said it. I could think of no other reason Zann would’ve missed the party, but why was Dabney acting so mysterious?
    I pulled the wagon up to the end of the lane and helped the ladies down. “I’ll be waiting in the pecan orchard across the road, when church lets out.” I recognized a couple of boys from school, walking toward the church. I swiftly looked in all directions to make sure no one had seen me driving up with Dabney Foxworthy.
    Mama’s never been one to give up easily. “Kiah, you’re likely to get cold sittin’ here in the wagon with the wind whipping through the trees. Don’t you wanna come with us, shug?”
    “I’ll be fine, Mama.”
    “But won’t you get bored? The Pageant’s likely to last longer than an hour.”
    “No problem.”
    Dabney thanked me for the ride and commented she was glad they arrived early so they could sit on the front. Was she serious? I figured the gossipy old ladies would certainly have plenty to talk about next week with Fendora Grave and Dabney Foxworthy sitting shamelessly on the front pew. There was nothing I could do about it. Mama had been bound and determined to go to church. When she made up her mind to do something, a pack of wild wolves couldn’t stop her.
    I parked the wagon directly across from Zann’s house and watched the door. I too, was glad we were early, but not for the same reason as Dabney. I watched for Zann’s mother to walk out the front door of the parsonage, on her way to the church. If Zann was still sick, she’d be home alone. I’d sneak over and explain to her that I went to the bridge as soon as I read her letter, and how sorry I was to have missed her.
    I heard the piano playing. Church had already begun, yet Mrs. Pruitt never left her house. Maybe Zann was sicker than I imagined. I could stand it no longer. I didn’t care if her mother was with her. I had to see her—talk to her. I tied up the mule and darted across the road to the parsonage.
    Her mother answered the door. “Ma’am, my name’s Kiah Grave. I’m a friend of your daughter’s. Is she home?”
    The pupils in her eyes darted back and forth. She whispered, “Yes, but she