Beyond the Border - Part 5

Well, um, good morning, FFFs,

I guess it is Friday, isn't it? Guess what? The sun is shining! And it's not supposed to hide behind clouds today! Or tomorrow! Or Sunday! Wow. This past week has been clouds and rain, and temperatures in the 60s. Now and then we'd get bits of sunshine, or it might reach 70º for a few minutes. Today my mom and I are planning on finally getting out to buy flowers for the yard. We've only been wanting to do that since our birthday in April.

On the writing front I've been getting at least 1k written on Secret Project Book 3 every day this week, and some last week. The story is now at 8k words and counting. Plots twists I didn't know about are up to 3, and unexpected people are 1. It's really starting to move and I am eager to get back to writing.

Hints for today are two chapter titles:

1. Aunt Bertha Takes a Hand

2. Banking on Trouble

On another note, I had my first real job offer yesterday. It's to work part time in the County Clerks office the 4 weeks prior to the August election. It sounds rather fun, but I'm still praying about it. Do you think it sounds fun? I'd be voting people absentee, and some other office stuff.

And here is the final part of this story. Enjoy!

Beyond the Border

Part 5

    “It’s coming from around that side,” Alex exclaimed, rushing off the porch with Eleanor and Catherine on his heels.
    Rounding the corner of the house, they stopped short. No one was to be seen.
    “Miss Gray,” Eleanor called, “where are you?”
    “The window,” came the voice.
    The open window was high but still allowed the two older children to see inside. The woman of the house lay on the floor, her face white. “Thank God someone came at last! Can one of you get in and–” Her face contracted in pain.
    Alex acted first. “Eleanor, let me boost you inside, and you can go open the front door.”
    This was done, and soon the three children were gathered about the woman on the floor.
    “She needs a doctor,” Eleanor stated.
    “Phone . . . over there.” A shaking finger pointed to the wall, and Alex disappeared. “Water.”
    “Yes, of course,” Eleanor said, noticing her dry lips, and brushing a hand over her hot face. “Catherine, stay here with Miss Gray. I’m going to go fetch some water.” Giving her sister no time to protest, Eleanor stood and headed for the back of the house where she guessed the kitchen was. She was right, and, after filling a glass with water, she also put water in a clean pail and carried it back to the sitting room.
    Eleanor took charge and bathed the lady’s face, and held the glass of water while Alex lifted her head, and Catherine sat still and held her hand.
    Slowly, with many pauses, Miss Gray told how she had been sick for a few days and had finally decided to call the doctor yesterday afternoon, but before she could make the call, she had gotten dizzy, and fallen,  injuring her leg. “I get faint any time I try to move,” Miss Gray murmured. “I’m so thankful you came back!”
        It seemed like a long time to the children who never once thought of fetching one of the adults from the orphanage, but at last the doctor arrived in an ambulance, and soon the three children were left alone in the house.
    “We’d better lock up,” Alex said.
    “Yes,” Eleanor agreed.
    “Can’t we pull some more weeds?” Catherine begged. “Miss Gray won’t be able to with her injured leg.”
    Eleanor looked at Alex, and Alex looked at Eleanor. Should they stay?
    “Let’s finish the garden right here,” Eleanor suggested. “We can do more another time if she’ll let us.”

*

    “You missed the excitement,” Julia said at the supper table. “There was an ambulance over at the house next door. We saw it drive by, and some of us watched it from upstairs. They took the lady away. I expect she’s going to die, and then WE can have the place.” She gave a slight toss of her head.
    Eleanor stole a glance at Alex and quickly dropped her eyes.
    “Where were you anyway, Eleanor? You and your sister are always disappearing. I think I should tell Mrs. Cobell. She might want to know where you two go and–”
    “And what?” growled Alex. “Why don’t you mind your own business for a change, Julia, instead of acting like you should know everyone else’s.”
    Julia opened her mouth, but no words came out. For once she had been silenced.

*

    The next day was Sunday, and there was no time to cross the border and pull weeds in Miss Gray’s garden, for everyone went to church in the morning and in the afternoon quiet play or reading was required. Late in the afternoon, Eleanor stood alone near the front gate looking out at the world beyond their confining border. Catherine was still inside reading. Alex came up and stood nearby, though he didn’t say anything.
    Eleanor looked over at him. “Alex, why are you so nice to Catherine and me? Why don’t you let Julia bother us at the table like the others do?”
    Alex’s reply was low. “You remind me of my sisters. They died of the same sickness that took my parents.”
    “Oh, Alex!” Eleanor turned quickly. “I . . . What were their names?”
    “Amelia and Elsie.”
    Stepping toward him, Eleanor held out her hand. “Can we pretend we’re your sisters?”
    Alex nodded and took her hand. “I’d like that.”

*

    On Thursday morning Mrs. Cobell requested Eleanor, Catherine, and Alex to go to the office as soon as breakfast was dismissed.
    Eleanor didn’t miss Julia’s smirk. Had she said something? They had been careful about slipping next door.
    In the office, Mrs. Cobell and Miss Stroder looked at the three children. At last Mrs. Cobell spoke. “Did the three of you go beyond the borders of the yard and into our neighbor’s property last Saturday?”
    Eleanor felt Catherine’s hand tighten on her own. “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Did you go into the house and help her?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Alex replied sturdily.
    Mrs. Cobell sighed and looked at Miss Stroder. “It seems,” she said slowly, “that you followed the Golden Rule. Miss Gray needs help for a few weeks and has requested you three. I suggested she take a few of our older orphans, but she wouldn’t have anyone else. When you leave this room, you are to pack your things and take them down to the hall. Miss Stroder will escort you next door. Don’t think this move is permanent. The lady hasn’t mentioned anything about keeping you once she is back on her feet again. That is all. You may go.”
    In a daze, Eleanor packed hers and Catherine’s few belongings, and the sisters waited in the hall for Alex.
    Julia swaggered in and stared. “Did you finally do something so bad they are sending you away?” She laughed scornfully. “Where are you going?”
    “Next door to help Miss Gray until she is well,” Alex said, coming into the hall.
    It was obvious that Julia didn’t believe them. Miss Stroder came. The walk out the gate, down the road, and up the stone path to the large house was taken in silence. A nurse opened the door at their knock and led them into the room where Miss Gray was lying in bed with her bandaged leg resting on a cushion.
    Holding out her hands, Miss Gray said, “Welcome home, children.”
    Eleanor smiled. It did feel like home. She was glad they had gone beyond the border to help someone in need.

Have you had more sun or rain this week?

Are you excited about Secret Project?

Did you enjoy this story or was it too short?

Beyond the Border - Part 4

Good morning! Happy Friday!

Guess what? It's cloudy. :P It's not really dark, but it's not sunny either. So much for having a week of sunshine. It was partly sunny on Sunday, then it was cloudy on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We would get a little bit of sun after 5 in the evening, but it usually didn't last long. Then yesterday (Thursday) we had a SUNNY morning! Blue sky with hardly a cloud in sight stretched above us, and the sun shone brightly! My sis and I took a walk after breakfast and really enjoyed the warmer weather, the sunshine, and getting to be outside. It's a good thing we went out when we did, because after lunch it got cloudy. And it rained.

But let's leave the clouds and the rain, and rumbles of thunder behind and talk about something more interesting, shall we?

Writing. This week has been a better writing week for me. Not only did I finish the Prequel for Secret Project (it still has to be read by my editor), but I started writing Book 3! And Books 1 & 2 are uploaded and ready to order the proof copies. I'm just waiting until I can order the Prequel proof too. Covers have been designed, and . . . I'm excited! It's been a while since I've been this excited about a new release. I mean I'm usually excited because it's always fun to finish another story and send it out to you readers, but this series? I can't wait!

Hints for this week:

1. Aunt Bertha doesn't make a very good first impression

2. A main character is keeping a secret

Wow, the thunder is rumbling overhead, but the birds are singing. I have a window open a little and the breeze is cool, but not cold.

Oh, and if anyone is interested in maybe being a part of the Five Fall Favorites blog party this year, fill out this form.

Enjoy this next part of the story.

Beyond the Border

Part 4

    “You should talk, Julia. Your background is just as questionable as anyone else’s. And there’s no need for any of it. If you don’t leave Catherine and Eleanor alone I’ll speak to Mrs. Cobell myself.” The boy’s eyes flashed.
    “Well! You are rude!” But Julia didn’t say anything else.
    Eleanor stretched her foot out and nudged her sister’s leg, while Alex patted her shoulder.

    The large dorm was dark and still. Eleanor lay awake and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe they did have some friends. Alex had at least acted like a friend. And he had known their names. Some of the other children didn’t call them by name. Eleanor didn’t blame them, for she herself didn’t know everyone’s name yet.
    At last, when she was sure everyone else was asleep, she crept from her bed and over to the window. Not a breath of air stirred the muslin curtains. Outside fireflies flashed and flickered their lights. The house beyond the bushes was dark.
    No, not completely dark.
    Eleanor leaned closer. There was a faint light in one of the windows. Miss Gray must be home. Or had she only just arrived home that evening?
    “Please, Dear Lord, show us what to do.”
    After one final look at the dim light, Eleanor left the window and crept back to bed.

*

    Seated at the breakfast table, her hands folded neatly in her lap, Eleanor stared at the table cloth and listened to Mrs. Cobell read the morning’s verse from the Bible.
    “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” Mrs. Cobell looked up and pushed her glasses down on her nose so he could look over them. “All of you children remember that today.”
    After a few words of prayer, the children were dismissed and sent to complete their chores. Eleanor began clearing off the tables while Catherine gathered the napkins to be washed.
    “Can I help you carry those plates?”
    Eleanor turned and saw Alex standing beside the table. “Don’t you have your own chores to do?”
    Alex shrugged. “I did my part in the garden early before it was hot.” He picked up the larger stack of plates.
    Picking up the other stack Eleanor started for the kitchen. “Thank you for sticking up for Catherine last night,” she said softly, glancing across the room and seeing that her sister was out of earshot. “Julia’s words hurt her.”
    “What about you?”
    Eleanor looked surprised. “What about me?”
    “Don’t they hurt you too?”
    It was Eleanor’s turn to shrug.
    After leaving the plates in the kitchen, Eleanor, with Alex beside her, walked back to the dining room to gather the last few dishes. “Thank you for helping me.”
    “You’re welcome. Thanks for getting my ball for me the other day.”
    Eleanor almost dropped the glass she had just picked up as she whirled around to stare at Alex. How had he known?
    With a soft chuckle, Alex whispered, “I had seen you and Catherine disappear into the bushes for several days and guessed it was you who did it. What is it like on the other side?”
    “Alex,” Miss Stroder’s voice called, “don’t bother the girls when they are working. You will have time to talk later if you wish. Now run along.”
    Giving Eleanor a slight grin and wink, Alex turned toward the door. “Yes, ma’am.”
    During the rest of her chores, Eleanor's thoughts were busy. If Alex saw them go to their special hideout, who else saw them? Would it be all right to tell Alex what they had been doing the last few days? But why was Alex being so friendly to them? Surely he wasn’t going to tell on them.
    When Eleanor and Catherine were at last free to go outside, there was no sign of Alex. Hand in hand, the sisters crossed the yard to the bushes. When she was sure no one was looking, she nodded to Catherine to slip inside. Then she followed. Alone in the shade, Eleanor looked into the neighbor’s yard. There was no sign of Miss Gray.
    “El,” Catherine whispered, “what are we going to do? Do you think she went away?”
    “No, I saw a light in a window last night. I think she’s sick.”
    “Who’s sick?”
    The question made the girls jump. Eleanor turned her head quickly and scratched her cheek on a twig. Outside the bushes sat Alex with a book in his hand. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
    “Trying to finish our conversation. Who’s sick?”
    “Miss Gray,” Catherine whispered. “That’s what we call the lady next door.”
    “Oh.” Alex didn’t ask any more questions but sat in silence waiting.
    Catherine smiled. “Are you going to tell on us?”
    “No.”
    Eleanor looked again at the silent house, her thoughts conflicting. “We have to go check on her. I would want someone to check on me if I were alone and sick. But what if she’s not sick? She might get mad at us, and Catherine might get frightened. But I can’t go alone because we aren’t supposed to leave the yard alone. What if Alex comes with us? He said he wouldn’t tell, but then he’ll find out that we’ve been weeding the flower gardens.”
    Alex’s quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. “Can’t I do it too?” There was something almost wistful in his tones.
    Drawing a deep breath, Eleanor nodded at her sister. “All right. We have to go make sure Miss Gray doesn’t need help, and I suppose, if you can get through the bushes without being seen, you can come with us, Alex.”
    Alex didn’t lower his book. “You two crawl out first, and then I’ll come in, unless there is room for three of us at once.”
    Eleanor crawled out first and Catherine followed. A few moments later Alex appeared beside them, minus his book. He looked around with wide eyes but didn’t say anything.
    With firm steps, but with a rapidly beating heart, Eleanor led the way to the large porch. She was thankful for the shade of the roof, as the stone walkway was hot under her bare feet. She knocked softly, but no one answered.
    After waiting a few minutes, Alex knocked.
    Eleanor cringed at the sound, afraid those in the next yard would hear it.
    “Help.” The call was almost too quiet to hear. “Please, come help me!”

Are you excited about my Secret Project?

Any ideas of what it might be?

If you were one of the children and heard that call, what would you do?

Beyond the Border - Part 3

Good morning, Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,

This morning is cloudy. It's sprinkled a little, but the birds are still singing. It rained Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The fun finally came out Wednesday evening, and then it was out most of yesterday. Yay! But now we get clouds and rain again for today and tomorrow. Anyone have a boat? We might need it. ;)

This week started out very nice. We went to my brother's on Saturday and got to enjoy time with them. Then on Sunday we went to church!!!! Oh, it was wonderful to see people again! Yes, we'd seen some of them last Wednesday, but not everyone.

I've been working on Secret Project this week. I have the cover for Book 1 done. And no, I'm not going to show it to you  . . . yet. Book 1 is also formatted. Book 2 is ready to be formatted and the cover finished. I'm back to writing the prequel. My original thought was to have it be 5k words. But it wasn't working. Sorry, you'll have to settle for longer. ;) I can't wait to share these stories with you all! If any of you are possibly interested in helping spread the word about these later, just let me know.

Here are you weekly hints.

• Aunt Bertha is in there! She plays a more prominent role in Book 1, but she's in Book 2.
• I got to use my Montgomery Ward catalogue. :)
  

Okay, here is part 3 of this story. I hope you enjoy it.

Beyond the Border

Part 3

    “Only pull what you know are weeds, Catherine,” Eleanor reminded. “We don’t want to pull up any flowers by mistake.”
    Catherine nodded and knelt in the grass. “Smell them, El; they smell like . . . home.” And she buried her nose in a pansy.
    “I know.” Eleanor quietly began pulling weeds as she blinked back tears at the thought of Mama. No matter where they had lived or where they had traveled, Mama always had a pot of pansies.
    It was exciting to see the garden take on a neat and tidy appearance. The longer they worked, the more nimble their fingers became at pulling only the weeds. Soon the flowers were freed from the weeds and given more space to breathe and grow. The weeds were piled in a heap, and at last Eleanor sat back to wipe her hot face.
    “It looks so much better, Catherine.”
    “Uh huh. Can we start on another one?”
    But Eleanor shook her head. “No, we should get back and sit in the shade a little while, or someone will notice how hot we are.”
    “What do we do with the weeds?”
    That was a puzzle. Eleanor remembered Miss Gray had put the weeds in a basket, but what she did with them after that, she didn’t know. “Let’s put them in the hole under the porch. They can’t grow there.”
    Quickly the girls stuffed the weeds through the lattice and then scurried back to the bordering bushes. Both were red faced and damp from sweat, and four hands were dirty. But the flower garden looked lovely.

*

    The next day there was only a little time to slip through the bushes and pull weeds in another garden. Once again there was no sign of Miss Gray.
    “What if she’s sick, Eleanor?” Catherine asked on the third day. “Maybe that’s why she hasn’t come outside.”
    Eleanor gave no reply but pulled a few more weeds in silence. Stopping, she sat back on her heels and looked at the house. There was no sign of life. “Maybe–” she hesitated and looked all around. “Maybe I should knock on the door.”
    Catherine gasped.
    “She probably isn’t home.” Though she said the words as firmly as possible, there was a slight quiver to her words. “If we don’t see her tomorrow, I’ll knock. But Catherine, we should see if we see any light in the windows at night.”
    Suddenly both girls turned their heads and looked above the bushes to the orphanage. It had never occurred to them that someone looking out of the girls’ room on the second floor could see right over the bushes and into Miss Gray’s yard.
    Neither one spoke.
    Should they go back to their hiding place and stay there day after day? Should they knock on the door and find out if Miss Gray was all right? What should they do?
    “Come on.” Eleanor beckoned to her sister and slipped away from the house and behind the shelter of a lilac bush which would shield them from anyone looking out the orphanage windows. “Catherine,” she said soberly, “we’ve forgotten something.”
    Catherine started to look around, as though wondering what had been forgotten.
    “We’ve forgotten to pray.”
    “No, we haven’t,” protested the younger girl. “We pray before we go to bed, and Mrs. Cobell prays at meal times.”
    “I don’t mean that.” Eleanor gently stroked a green leave on the bush. “I mean like we used to pray before Mama died. About everything. We didn’t pray about coming over and helping Miss Gray, but I think we should pray now.”
    Catherine nodded at once.
    Together the sisters knelt in the grass, folded their hands and bowed their heads.
    “Dear Jesus,” Eleanor began, “we’re sorry for not asking You if we should come here and help Miss Gray before. You said we are to take care of the widows, though I don’t know if Miss Gray is a widow, but she’s all alone. But we also don’t want to get in trouble for helping. And we don’t know if Miss Gray is sick or not. Please help us know what to do.”
    “And Jesus,” Catherine added, “if Miss Gray is sick, please don’t let her be sick like Mama was because . . . well, because I think I like Miss Gray. She has the same flowers as Mama.” Her voice died away in a sniff.
    “Please show us what to do. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.”
    They didn’t think anyone heard them but God, but someone did. On the far side of the house, a window was open. A soft breeze stirred the curtains and brought the sweet petition into the room.
    A ringing bell sent both girls racing for the bushes.

    At the supper table, Eleanor noticed the smudge of dirt on her sister’s face. Why hadn’t they paid more attention and come back before the bell rang? Someone was sure to notice.
    Almost as thought reading her thoughts, Julia started right in. “I can’t believe Mrs. Cobell would allow someone as dirty as you are, Catherine, to come to the table. Why, you have dirt on your face! Or did you get in a fight and bruise it?”
    Catherine kept her head down and said not a word.
    “And you, Eleanor, you look like you’ve been out playing in the dirt all day. Your hair is a mess and you have dirt down the side of your face. Ugh! I don’t know why I have to sit next to you.”
    “Maybe so you can, oh so kindly, point out all the things they are doing wrong, so you’ll look good,” Alex replied sarcastically.
    Julia tossed her head. “They need someone to point out their errors. Who knows where they came from. They were probably found in an alley from the grungy way they always look.”
    A sniff came from Catherine, and a tear dropped on her plate. Eleanor opened her mouth to defend her little sister, but before she had a chance to say a word, Alex draped an arm around Catherine’s shoulders and spoke in a low voice.

Have you had lots of rain this week?

Are you excited about Secret Project?

Would go with the girls to help Miss Gray?

Beyond the Border - Part 2

Hello, FFFs,

How can it be Friday again already? It was just Friday!

Well, the big news from this week is that the Show-Me state opened up! Maybe not completely and totally like it was before, but we got to go to church on Wednesday night! It was SO nice to see folks again! There were more people than are usually there when there's no Awana or children's church.

This week I've been working on different projects like editing, formatting, planning, and blog posts.

I'm feeling like I have nothing to say this morning. Why, I don't know. It's cloudy, windy, and in the low 50s. I have things to work on, so maybe I'll just let you read this next part of the story.

Beyond the Border

Part 2

    That evening Eleanor found one of the older girls alone in the hall. Kate was the closest Eleanor and Catherine had to a friend at the orphanage. “Could you, I mean, would you show me–” She stopped and bit her lip and stared down at her shoes.
    “I will if I can,” Kate said. “What do you need?”
    Her kind words and manner erased the butterflies in Eleanor’s stomach. “Catherine ripped a tiny hole in her sleeve today, and I don’t know how to mend it.”
    Kate smiled. “Why don’t you show it to me.”
    When the torn dress was shown, Kate pulled out a small mending basket from under her bed. “This won’t be hard. See, I’ll show you how to fix it.”
    Under Kate’s instructions, Eleanor soon had the small rip mended. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “You’re welcome, Eleanor.”

*

    The hot summer sun shone down from a bright blue sky. Puffs of dust rose with each bare foot that slapped the ground in the noisy game of ball. Sheltered in the shady hollow, Eleanor sighed. She was hot even in the shade. If only there was something to do besides watching the others or staring at the old house next door.
    “El, why doesn’t Miss Gray come outside and pull more weeds?”
    “Maybe it’s too hot.”
    Angry shouts drew the girls’ attention to the ball players. A group of boys stood shouting and gesturing. Several girls edged up closer to the tumult, and Eleanor saw Julia arguing with Benji. From the crowd came Alex, holding Victor tightly by the hand. The little boy was crying. They came close to the bushes where the girls were sitting, and stopped.
    “Stop crying, Victor. You aren’t too small to play; those guys just want their own way. See,” he held out a ball, “this is my ball, and I’ll teach you how to catch. Now, you stand over here, so if you miss a ball it will get stopped by the bushes, see.”
    “I might break a window,” sniffed the little boy, pointing to the house.
    “Aw, you can’t throw that far yet. I can’t even throw that far. Besides, I’ll catch your balls. Now dry your eyes and lets get busy before Mrs. Cobell comes out to settle that mess over there.” And he jerked his head toward the heated argument that looked like it might turn into a fight.
    Thus urged, Victor, who was only six, scrubbed his face with his hands and nodded. Alex was eleven and one of the older boys, and Victor looked up to him.
    Eleanor looked at Catherine and smiled. The boys weren’t too close to their hiding place, but close enough for the girls to enjoy their game of catch. The tumult among the other children was quickly forgotten.
    Alex was very patient with the younger boy and started off close to him. Then he moved a little farther away and continued to throw the ball and praise his catches. “You’ll soon catch well enough to be the catcher.”
    “Throw me a fancy ball, Alex,” Victor begged. “I know I can catch it now.”
    Alex hesitated. “Well, if you’re sure you’re ready for it.”
    For answer Victor held his hands out in front of him to catch the ball.
    “All right,” Alex laughed. “Here goes.” With that he drew his arm back and let the ball fly. “Oh no.”
    His groan almost made Eleanor wish she was out of the bushes and could see what was happening. Then the thud of the ball told her. It had gone over the bushes.
    Quickly, without giving herself time to think, she slipped from the hiding spot and into the yard beyond the bushes. The ball lay in the grass a few feet away. Darting forward, she snatched it up and threw it back over the bushes before creeping back into their shelter.
    “Hey,” Victor said. “She threw it back!”
    Alex had come running over and picked up his ball. “Thank you!” he called.
    Eleanor looked at Catherine, and both girls pressed their hands over their mouths to keep back the giggles.
    “Come on, Victor,” Alex said, “maybe we’d better do something else for a while.” Together the boys walked away, leaving the bushes to the girls.
    When it was safe to talk without being discovered, Catherine whispered, “He’s nice.”
    Eleanor nodded and looked toward the silent house. Now that she had ventured once beyond the border, she had a longing to do it again. “I wish we could help Miss Gray weed her flowers.”
    “Oh, El, could we?” Catherine loved flowers, and there was not a single one to be had at the orphanage. “Couldn’t we just go pull some weeds? No one told us we couldn’t leave the yard, did they?”
    Eleanor thought hard. No, that had never been a rule. “Miss Stroder said we weren’t to leave the yard alone.”
    At that Catherine’s face lit up. “Could we do some now?”
    “I don’t know. What if the bell rings and we are over there? We might not make it back without someone noticing where we came from. But perhaps we can tomorrow. And maybe Miss Gray will be there, and we can ask her if we can help.”
    With that Catherine had to be satisfied, but she couldn’t help remarking almost to herself, “It would be fun to weed the flowers and not let her know who did it.”

*

    Their chores were light the next morning, and the two girls slipped outside and over to their special bushes before it was too warm. They expected to see Miss Gray outside, for it was cooler, and clouds stretched lazily across the sky. But she wasn’t there.
    Almost timidly, Eleanor crept out and looked around. No one was to be seen, and she motioned to her sister. “Maybe she went away for a few days,” she whispered.
    Hand in hand, the girls crossed the yard, their bare feet marveling at the feel of grass instead of dirt and rocks. Reaching the flower garden near the wide porch, the girls stopped and looked around. All was quiet and still in the yard. No curtains moved in the windows, and the two young orphans squeezed hands.

How was your week?

Would you go pull weeds in someone else's garden?

Have you ever had a secret hiding place in a bush?

Beyond the Border - Part 1

Good morning and happy May!

Yeah, I know, I can't believe it's May either. We thought April would drag with having to stay at home and not going to church, but it didn't. Thankfully. It just vanished and left completely befuddled about what day and month it is. ;) Our state is opening up on Monday! Yay!!!

This week has been good. I've gotten some things done and worked on that needed done and worked on for quite some time. Like organizing some files on my computer. I still have more to organize, but at least the desktop doesn't look as bad. ;) I'm also slowly working on updating things on my Read Another Page website. Right now all the newsletter sign up forms have been updated and should look good on a computer or a mobile device. I still have more updates to do like adding audio books and my three newest Christmas Collection books from December. Yeah, I'm a little behind the times.

I haven't written quite as much this week because I reached my 30k goal on Monday and the end of the Secret Project (at least until my editor has read it) on Tuesday. But I did work on the prequel for this project on Wednesday and Thursday.

Anyway, this story was written for a "title challenge" that some other writer friends and I decided to do. We all had the same title and anyone who wanted to wrote a story to go with the title. Then we had readers (not the authors) vote on aspects of the story and their favorite. This title was for March and this story ended up with the most points of the 4 stories entered. I hope you enjoy it.

Beyond the Border

Part 1

    Eleanor slowly parted the branches and peered out. “She’s there,” she whispered.

    The tall bushes which formed the border of the orphanage yard shook a little, as though a light breeze stirred them, as seven-year-old Catherine wiggled closer to her sister to see too. “What’s she doing?”

    “Weeding probably.” Eleanor was nine.

    All was quiet in the little sheltered nook as the two sisters, much alike, with brown eyes and mousy brown hair braided in two braids watched the woman next door with interest. The little hollow among the branches was the sisters’ favorite hiding place, away from the noise and commotion of the other orphans. They had discovered it only a week after they had arrived at the orphanage left there by a kind policeman who had found them hungry and alone after their mother had died.

    Since it was summer and there was no school, the children at the orphanage had plenty of time to play in the yard after their chores were finished. The children all worked in the large garden, kept the home clean, and helped in the kitchen. Eleanor and Catherine didn’t made friends easily and were often left to their own devices when play time came. This didn’t bother them, but if Mrs. Cobell saw them alone, she would deliver a lecture on participation.

    It was Catherine who had first discovered the shelter in the bushes. Upon closer examination, the girls found that both of them could fit comfortably, and the branches sheltered them from observation. Together they would sit like two little gray birds and watch the rowdy play of the other orphans on one side, or would gaze at the large Victorian mansion on the other and imagine what it would be like to live there.

    For two weeks the house stood empty. No curtains hung in the windows and the gardens were overgrown. Then a change happened. A woman arrived at the house. Soon curtains hung in the windows, and the large front porch was swept.

    “Do you think she’s the housekeeper?” Catherine had whispered.

    “Maybe. She doesn’t look rich enough to own the house,” Eleanor replied. “I wonder who else will live there. I wish we could.”

    Eagerly the girls watched and waited, but no one else arrived. Now, from their hidden room, they watched the woman working in the flower garden near the porch.

    “Perhaps the others will come after everything looks nice.” Catherine hugged her knees and glanced at her sister.

    “What others?”

    “Why, the ones Miss Gray is preparing the house for.” And Catherine pointed toward their neighbor.

    “How do you know her name?”

    “I don’t. But she always wears gray. Like we do.”

    Eleanor didn’t have a reply for this, and she had to admit that it was easier to think of the lady next door with a name than to always be referring to her as “that lady” or “the lady next door,” which got cumbersome after a while.

    The sudden ringing of the bell startled both girls, and they quickly but carefully scrambled from their hiding place and joined the other children heading toward the house and supper.

    After washing their hands, Eleanor and Catherine filed into the dining room and stood behind their chairs at their assigned table. The other children found their tables and all waited. Mrs. Cobell said grace and then, at Mrs. Cobell’s nod, the children hurried to sit down and begin eating.

    “Catherine, your sleeve is torn,” Julia criticized. “What were you doing? Mrs. Cobell won’t be happy. And where were you, Eleanor, when we were picking beans this morning?”

    “Miss Stroder told me to help wash the windows.” Eleanor stole a glance across the table to Catherine. Her sleeve was torn a little, right at the shoulder. It was just a small tear, and she wondered if one of the older girls would help her mend it before tomorrow.

    Julia went right on talking. “Someone moved into that ugly old house next door. I heard Mrs. Cobell talking with Miss Stroder and Mrs. Cobell this morning. They wanted to buy the house so we could have more room, but this other lady had inherited it or something, and she’s moved in. Mrs. Cobell talked to her about selling it and the lady refused! You’d think that she wouldn’t want such a large place for just one person. I mean, what is she going to do, sleep in a different room each time?” She laughed scornfully.

    “Maybe she has servants,” Alex ventured with his mouth half full.

    “Ha!” Julia sniffed. “And don’t talk with food in your mouth, Alex, it isn’t polite.”

    “You do it.” Alex retorted as Julia took a bite of her bread.

    “Do not!”

    Eleanor had a hard time not joining in the laughter that echoed down the table at Julia’s denial around her bread and butter. Alex had been right. Julia did talk with food in her mouth quite often.

    “That was mean, Alexander Luntz!” Julia threw her napkin at him and glared.

    Eleanor felt a kick under the table and glanced up quickly. Catherine had dropped her eyes to her plate and the laughter died at the table.

    “What is the meaning of this commotion?” Miss Stroder’s voice was firm. Only silence greeted her question. “Is no one going to talk voluntarily? Do I need to withhold cake from the entire table?”

    “No, ma’am,” Alex spoke up quickly. “It was my fault. I was teasing Julia. I’m sorry.”

    For a moment Miss Stroder stood silent. “What did you say?”

    Alex dropped his eyes to his plate. “I’d rather not say, Miss Stroder.”

    “He said she talked with her mouth full of food too,” piped up Victor. “And she said she didn’t while she was eating her bread.”

    “I think,” Miss Stroder said quietly, “that there needs to be less talking and more eating at this table. Is that understood?”

    “Yes, ma’am.”

    Eleanor returned to her supper. Beside her, Julia muttered something under her breath but didn’t talk any more.

Did your April drag or fly?

Who do you think Miss Gray is preparing the house for?

Did you enjoy the first part of this story?