Misplaced (63 page)

I
t
w
a
s
eas
y
t
o
se
e
wher
e
Be
a
go
t
he
r
looks
.
Beyon
d
he
r
infirmities,
Celeste
w
as
still
beautiful.
She
might
ha
v
e
been
in
her
early
sixties
or
ten
y
ears
younger,
but
aged
by
disease
and
th
e
shadow
y
light
.
V
ictori
a
doubte
d
sh
e
ha
d
e
v
e
r
bee
n
much
o
v
e
r
fi
v
e
fee
t
tall
,
an
d
sh
e
ha
d
delicat
e
feature
s
an
d
un
w
a
v
ering
blu
e
e
y
es
.
He
r
hai
r
w
a
s
blond
e
o
r
gray
,
an
d
fel
l
i
n
sof
t
curls
just
below
her
ears.
She
wore
an
ivory
wool
robe
o
v
er
a
ruffled,
white
flannel
gown.
In
her
earlobes
w
as
a
pair
of
magnificent
diamond earrings.

Sh
e
caugh
t
the
m
starin
g
a
t
he
r
righ
t
leg
,
whic
h
w
a
s
two,
m
ayb
e
thre
e
ti
m
e
s
th
e
s
i
z
e
o
f
th
e
le
f
t
.
“
I’
m
gue
ss
in
g
y
o
u
’
v
e
ne
v
er
seen
someone
who’s
cheated
death
so
many
times,”
she
teased,
her
smile
mischievous.
“Now,”
she
began,
easing
into
the
chair,
“make
yoursel
v
es
at
home.
Y
ou,”
she
said
abruptly
but
not
unkindly,
w
agging
her
cane
at
V
ictoria,
“look
familiar.
Ha
v
e
w
e met?”

“No, though Bea speaks of you often.”

“Does
she?”
She
appeared
wistful.
“What
a
wild
child
she
w
as.
Couldn’t
get
her
a
w
ay
from
the
barn;
she
practically
slept
with the horses.”

“Horses?
”
Khar
a
crep
t
closer
,
kneelin
g
o
n
th
e
hooke
d
ru
g
in
front
of
the
fire.
“No
wonder
your
niece
and
I
see
things
with
the same e
y
es.”

“I
taugh
t
he
r
t
o
rid
e
myself
.
A
rea
l
T
exan
,
sh
e
is
.
Bac
k
then
,
I
w
a
s
a
s
tal
l
a
s
yo
u
are,
”
sh
e
recalled
,
aimin
g
he
r
can
e
a
t
V
ictoria,
“and
I
had
a
good
deal
more
cur
v
es.
It’s
no
wonder
men
fell
all
o
v
er
themsel
v
es
for
me.
But
you
don’t
w
ant
to
hear
about
that
now. I
’
ll make some cocoa.”

“W
e
’
r
e
fine
,
really,
”
V
ictori
a
assure
d
her
.
“
P
leas
e
don’
t
go
to any trouble. I can’t tell you how grateful
w
e are to be here.”

Ignoring
the
tactful
refusal,
Celeste
began
the
monumental
task
of
hoisting
herself
up
again.
V
ictoria
and
Khara
follo
w
ed
her
down
a
narrow
hall
w
ay
to
a
farmhouse
kitchen,
ca
v
ernous
b
y
contemporar
y
standards
. A
fortun
e
ha
d
bee
n
spent
modernizin
g
i
t
wit
h
a
restaurant-size
d
rang
e
an
d
a
pai
r
of
built-i
n
refrigerators
,
th
e
door
s
matchin
g
th
e
room’
s
wooden
paneling
.
Butcher-bloc
k
countertop
s
gleame
d
i
n
a
n
L-shape,
an
d
i
n
th
e
cente
r
stoo
d
a
n
old-fashione
d
dinin
g
tabl
e
with
generou
s
chair
s
upholstere
d
i
n
gree
n
an
d
whit
e
checks
.

“I
rarely
sleep
more
than
a
few
hours
at
a
time
anymore,”
Celest
e
confessed
,
lookin
g
u
p
a
t
th
e
cloc
k
an
d
shakin
g
her
head.
“It’s
sort
of
a
treat
to
ha
v
e
someone
to
talk
to.
Of
course,
I
al
w
ay
s
ha
ve
m
y
cats
.
They
’
r
e
bette
r
compan
y
tha
n
most
people,”
she
told
V
ictoria
as
she
fumbled
for
a
pot,
which
she
fille
d
wit
h
milk
.
Sh
e
place
d
i
t
o
n
a
ga
s
burner
,
whic
h
sh
e
turned
up alarmingly high.

“
Aha
!
I
kno
w
wher
e
I’
v
e
see
n
you!
”
sh
e
exclaimed
.
“B
e
right
b
ac
k
,
”
sh
e
adde
d
an
d
ho
bb
le
d
in
t
o
t
h
e
hall
w
a
y
,
leavin
g
t
he
girls alone in the kitchen.