Читать книгу At Home in Dry Creek - Janet Tronstad - Страница 14

Barbara’s alarm clock went off at five o’clock in the morning and she groaned as she reached over to turn it off. It was dark and her children were still asleep. Fortunately, it wasn’t cold inside the room she now called home. Not that it was warm either. She sat up on her cot and pulled a blanket around her shoulders.

Her alarm clock gave off a green hazy light so Barbara could see the two lumps in the bed next to her cot. Both Amanda and Bobby were curled in on themselves as they slept. They’d been tired enough last night that they would sleep another few hours.

Barbara yawned as she remembered last night.

The wedding reception had become more enjoyable after she had asked to work on the sheriff’s re-election campaign and she’d spent more time talking with Mrs. Hargrove about local politics. Mrs. Hargrove had gotten so involved in the conversation, she hadn’t seemed to notice that Barbara was helping clean up the refreshment table.

The two of them had cleared off the cake crumbs and picked up empty punch cups while they talked. Barbara had learned enough about local politics to know that she probably didn’t need to campaign for the sheriff to win the election.

Of course, Mrs. Hargrove encouraged her to work on the sheriff’s campaign anyway.

“Campaigning is more like fun than work, isn’t it?” Mrs. Hargrove had anxiously asked her for the second time as she looked over to where the sheriff stood.

Barbara had nodded.

“Well, then I guess it’s okay—it’s a great way for you to meet people. Besides, it never hurts to remind people to vote,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she turned her attention back to the table and scraped some white frosting off the cake knife before wrapping the knife in a wet paper towel.

“I’d enjoy it,” Barbara said. “Really I would. I want to do something for the community.”

Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “We’ve become a little lazy around here when it comes to voting for the sheriff. And it’s an important job—we can’t have just anyone as our sheriff. I’ve known Carl Wall since he was a teenager, and he’s a good man.”