Twenty Three

Once I was alone, after Mamma and Rose had gone, I sat at the kitchen table cradling a cup of coffee in my hands. Mind whirling, emotions churning, I didn't hear the door open. Too many confused thoughts were milling around in my mind. Only when the shadow fell across the table did I look up, and stiffen.

"Well, ain't got nothin' better to do that sit around?" Al Baily's voice cut through the silence, thick with disdain.

"Get out of my home." Rising to my feet, I faced him, glaring. He sauntered toward me, but I moved, keeping the table between us. The fact that he'd likely come in for a cup of fresh coffee held no relief for me- I hated him!

"Scared, squaw?" Putting his hands on the wood, he leered at me.

"Of what?" Curling my lip, I felt my heart race as anger came to the surface. I wanted to strike him. "You disgust me."