Her mouth watered immediately upon entering. The smell of food caused her stomach to cramp from hunger but didn’t deter her from her mission. And that was to grab her items quickly and run from that place as fast as her legs would carry her.
The streetlight shining through a window helped to guide Mud through the small kitchen without mishap.
She snatched up two bags from beneath a counter and began filling them with her bounty. Everything from bread to ketchup went into the bags, and anything else she figured she would need, such as a box of matches and a few towels.
Yanking open a glass door, she then grabbed a bowl containing some kind of meat. The smell of that meat nearly took Mud to her knees.
Some papers caught her eye on her way back to the exit. She snatched them up, along with an ink pen, and stuffed them into one of her bags. She recognized the pen as something to write with; her mama had stolen one a few years back, but it had long ago stopped working.
Her gaze then landed on a beautiful, shiny knife. She plucked that up as well, since the one she had was worn down to nearly nothing, and she’d buried alongside the Devil the one he had used on her mama.
Slipping the blade into her pants pocket, Mud left the barbeque shack. She stood behind the building for long moments to be sure she wasn’t seen, and then ran, not stopping until she’d made it a safe distance away.
Dropping to her knees in the bush, Mud opened the bag containing the meat and pulled out the bowl with trembling fingers. She quickly removed the lid, stuffing chunks of the delicious-tasting meat into her mouth.
She had never had anything so good in all her life. Not even the food her mama had made for her compared to the flavor now bursting across her tongue.
Mud ate as much as her body could handle without water to wash it down with. She then replaced the bowl in the bag and pushed unsteadily to her feet.
She might be young, but she was old enough to recognize her weakened state from going too long without food.
It had been far too windy to fish over the past few days. And without the guts from said fish, she had nothing to bait her traps with. Plus, since the gardens had died out, there were no potatoes or carrots to entice a rabbit with.
The walk home seemed to take forever, with Mud carrying the bags of her bounty. Her bare feet ached from stepping on rocks and twigs in her path. But that couldn’t be helped. Traveling at night was her only alternative to being seen.
Thunder rolled in the distance, evidence of another storm coming. Mud hurried her steps. The last thing she needed was to get caught out in bad weather. Her mama had told her repeatedly that the weather would make her sick. And Mud hated being sick. Especially without Flora to care for her.
She arrived home mere seconds ahead of the first drops of rain. The wind had picked up to the point where she had to strain to open the door to the shack.
Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief, set her bags down on top of her makeshift table, and yanked up the bucket resting beneath it.
She placed the bucket outside the door in hopes of it filling with rainwater, just as she’d seen Flora do again and again. It would guarantee clean drinking water for days to come.
Mud had resorted to carrying swamp water back to the shack more times than she could count. But she’d always boiled it, exactly as Flora had taught her.
Luckily, she’d managed to find several boxes of matches back at the barbeque shack, since the ones Flora had stolen from the village were nearly gone.
Pulling the door closed, Mud glanced around at the numerous bowls placed strategically around the shack to catch the water that leaked through the cracks in the roof.
Satisfied that everything was in order, she took a piece of thin rope hanging on the wall and tied the tattered door closed. It wasn’t the best lock in the world, but it would work to keep the animals out. And there were some dangerous animals in those swamps. As for people, well, she had a blade on her at all times to take care of unwanted strangers.
Mud blew out an exhausted breath and moved back to the table where she’d left her bounty. She picked up a half-empty cup of water, took a drink, and then set out to wrapping a piece of bread around some of the meat.
She ate slowly, savoring every bite. Because God knew how long it would be before she got her hands on more food of that caliber.
Chapter Three
The chime of the doorbell caught Grace off guard. She shut the lid to the washing machine and hurried from the laundry room. “Just a minute!”
A look through the peephole told her that her visitor was Opa, a beautiful Jena Choctaw Indian woman who attended Jasper’s church.
Grace opened the door, noticing the woman held a large-sized box in her arms. “Hi, Opa.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Holloway. I brought some toys for you to take on your next trip to the children’s home in Calhoun.”
Grace sent the other woman a grateful look and relieved her of the surprisingly heavy box. “Won’t you come in?”
Opa glanced behind her and then met Grace’s gaze once more. “I can’t stay but a minute. Talako is purchasing us some barbeque from Smith’s.”
Smith’s Barbeque happened to be just across the street from the Holloway’s parsonage. Though the barbeque shack was considered to be in Shipper Parish, the Holloway’s home, along with the new church, had been built on tribal lands. Which was a good thing since the Choctaw Indians didn’t charge Jasper and Grace to live there. Especially with Jasper being a man of God and heading up several missions to different countries. The Choctaws respected him.
Opa stepped over the threshold and waited for Grace to shut the door and set down the box before speaking. “Your home always feels so inviting.”
Grace softly smiled. “Thank you. Please, have a seat.”
“Oh, I can’t stay long, Mrs. Holloway. I just wanted to drop off the toys and let you know that Talako and I won’t be at church tomorrow.”
“I hope everything is all right?” Grace moved to stand in front of the other woman.
Opa nodded. “Of course. One of our young men has had his eighteenth birthday recently. We will be holding a special ceremony for him tomorrow.”
Grace would give anything to be able to attend that ceremony. But she couldn’t. Not on a Sunday. Jasper would be horrified.
Opa must have guessed her thoughts. “I will hold a place for you, if you would like to come.”
“I wish I could,” Grace answered in an apologetic tone. “But I can’t. Especially not during church service time.”
Touching her on the arm, Opa murmured, “I understand. You must be there for your people.”
“You don’t know how much it means to us to have you and Talako attend our services. Especially with our beliefs being slightly different.”
Opa’s gaze softened. “Our beliefs are not so different, Mrs. Holloway. Besides, what is inside one’s heart is truly what matters. And anyone can see that your heart is pure. Not to mention the missions that Reverend Holloway is responsible for is enough to guarantee our loyalty. Your husband is a good man.”
Touched by Opa’s words, Grace fought the tears of gratitude that threatened. She opened her mouth to thank her beautiful guest when the doorbell rang once more.
“That will probably be Talako looking for me,” Opa pointed out, a twinkle in her eye.