Tears threatened to spill out, but Zillia held them back. She wouldn’t cry in front of Jeb.
The man reached over and touched Mama’s cheek, smoothing a golden curl back into place above her forehead. “You was a good woman, Marjorie,” he muttered.
“Jeb.” Zillia stretched out her hand, but she didn’t dare to touch him.
When he turned, his jaws were slack, and his eyes had lost their normal fire. “You stupid girl. Couldn’t even save her.”
Zillia flinched. A blow would have been better. Surely the man isn’t completely addled? Not even the doctor could have helped Mama. She shrank back against the wall, and swallowed words dangerous to her own self.
Jeb stared at her for another moment, then bowed his head. “I guess that’s that.” He turned on his boot and walked out of the room.
Find out more about this book, and Angela Castillo’s
other writings, at http://angelacastillowrites.weebly.com
The River Girl's Christmas (Texas Women of Spirit Book 4) Page 10