Read The Scarlet Thread Online
Authors: Francine Rivers
rockin chair near the stov feeding Joshua and
singing Mamas song. I cried. I cud not stop. I just
sat in the warm water and the tears kept running.
Aunt Martha give me a real bed to sleep in and
a room of my own. Joshua slept with me. He aint
never ben in a bed before. For that matter, I aint
never seen one the likes of it. It is shiny brass like
gold with a lacy tent over head. Aunt Martha said
it belonged to Mama before she run off with
Papa. She said her own Papa ordered it and had
it shipped all the way from New York.
I wunder if James ever made it to New York
like he wanted. He mit even be in China by now.
Aunt Martha dont ask me a lot of questions.
And she dont look at me like most foks do. The
Reinholtz were in church today and they wud not
look at me at all. On the way home I told Aunt
Martha Joshua is Sally Maes son. It is half-true.
She cried and kist me. She said she loves me and
I can liv with her forever if I want. She said
You
are not to worry what people say. The truth always comes
out in the end.
I hope this truth dont.
Aunt Martha thinks as much of edukashun as
Mama did. She says I got a good mind that needs
fillin with good things. To that end, she is tutorin
me in reding, riting, and numbers and teachin me
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this life is to know the word of God. Mama knew
the Bible front and back and it did not do her
much good at all. I did not tell Aunt Martha this.
I wud rather eat stones than hurt her feelings.
Life does that easy enuf as it is.
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8
state fair with its carnival atmosphere, but here few people were
over the age of thirty and everyone dressed in suits.
Big booths lined both sides of the carpeted aisle. Videos of new
games were going. Neon and vibrant-colored cartoonlike artwork
was everywhere. It was dizzying to the eye and ear. She saw a
short man wearing funky clothes and glitter-framed glasses talking with several taller men in suits. She could tell by the deference
paid him that he was somebody important in the industry.
Sometimes she could tell who was important, sometimes not.
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He’d looked ordinary enough until he’d left them, then Alex
informed her the man’s company had built a two-million-dollar
studio in his home just so he could work on sound for games.
Someone bumped her, glanced at her badge, mumbled an
apology, and moved on. Everyone looked at badges. Alex could
sniff out sales reps and reporters like a hound in the hunt. Not
that he had to work very hard at it. Reporters from
Game Informer,
Blaster
magazine, and
Next Generation
were fighting to make appointments with him.
Lost in the maze of booths and people, Sierra tried to get her
bearings and figure out how to get back to the Beyond Tomorrow booth. It was almost five o’clock and Alex had told her to
meet him there. They needed to go up to their room and change
for a business dinner. The Beyond Tomorrow booth was near
the center with big television screens displaying Alex’s new
game: Camouflage.
Everywhere she turned she heard computer jargon.
“They’ve got the best FMV in the business,” one man crowed,
referring to full-motion video. Alex had explained to her that with
FMV, actors did the fighting and then the sequences were plugged
into the computer to make lifelike graphics. Companies then used
cut-and-paste methods to stick the FMV on top. She heard people
talking about “texture mapping” and “polygon graphics” and hadn’t
the foggiest idea what they were talking about.
Over dinner, she had listened to Alex talk about his work and
his new game. He exuded confidence as he answered questions
and explained his theories and plans. He held his guests’ rapt
attention, fanning their interest. This was a side of her husband
she’d never witnessed before. She was proud of him, of his obvious achievements and his ability to sway others. Yet she had felt
set apart as well—like some kind of nice-looking but totally unnecessary adornment. After the introductions and pleasantries,
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she sat listening. The conversation went on around her, but
hardly a word was directed her way. Half the time she didn’t
even know what they were talking about.
“Do you play your husband’s game, Sierra?” one of the young
men asked her as their dinners were being served.
“No. I’m not much for video games. They’re too quick and
complex for me.”
Alex laughed. “Sierra prefers physical pursuits, like tennis at
the country club, manicures, and shopping.”
The other men laughed with him. She laughed, too, pretending
to share the joke while doing all she could to conceal the surprise
and hurt she felt at his remark. He said it lightly, as though affectionately amused. Yet she felt belittled.
Was that how he saw her? As a shallow young woman with
nothing important to do?
The thought had plagued her all night and most of the day.
God, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Ahead of her now was a big screen with vividly colored warriors using medieval weapons to hack at one another. One split
the other in half with an axe, sending splashes of neon-red blood
in a shower. Repulsed, Sierra looked away and kept walking. At
least she knew where she was now. Beyond Tomorrow was
down two aisles to the right.
Alex was talking with two men in business suits, while Elizabeth Longford, Beyond Tomorrow’s hotshot merchandising
director, stood alongside him with a clipboard. The young
woman was dressed in a designer suit of deep green. It fitted
her slender body like a glove. No sign of a single wrinkle or
crease, even after a full day of standing on the floor and talking
to sales reps. Elizabeth’s long blonde hair was permed into
kinked tendrils that tumbled down her back.
Sierra had only met Elizabeth a few times and found her cool
and remote. She was very attractive, professional, and ambi1 2 3
saw Alex talking with her so easily.
“Yes, she’s young,” Audra said that evening at a party. Sierra
stood beside her near the hors d’oeuvres, sipping champagne.
“She just turned twenty-six a few weeks ago.”
Alex and Steve stood not far away talking business to several
sales reps, who seemed more interested in admiring Elizabeth
in her sleek low-cut black gown. The simple, elegant design
bespoke money. Lots of it.
“She graduated from Wellesley,” Audra said, setting her
champagne down so she could put caviar on a small circle of
melba toast. “She took her masters in marketing at Columbia.”
Sierra watched the younger woman move out onto the dance
floor with one of the reps. Elizabeth’s graceful undulations were
in stark contrast to the enthusiastic gyrations of her partner.
“She’s very lovely,” Sierra said, noticing how Alex and Steve
were both watching her.
“Indeed,” Audra said enigmatically. “She knows how to present herself. She went to finishing school in Switzerland and was
a debutante.” She took up her glass of champagne again. “I asked
her about it, but she disdains the whole thing. Family pressure.
Understandable.” She ate the cracker delicately. “Her father is a
descendant of one of the crew of the
Mayflower.
” She looked at
Sierra. “She works very closely with Alex.”
Somehow, Audra’s words held warning. They planted doubt
and fear.
“Do you like Elizabeth?” Sierra asked Alex later in their hotel room.
“She’s good at her job,” he said, loosening his tie.
Hanging up his suit jacket, Sierra waited for him to say more.
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When he didn’t, she looked back at him standing near the windows overlooking the lights of Las Vegas. He was so handsome,
her heart ached. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to him? He
pulled his shirt free of his suit trousers and unbuttoned his collar.
Sierra’s stomach fluttered. How long since they’d come together in passionate need for one another? How long since he’d
held her and kissed her and said he loved her? She loved him so
much. She needed him. Yet he seemed so distant, so distracted.
Whatever thoughts were running through his mind clearly troubled him. Hadn’t things gone as well as expected tonight? Or
was it something else?
Her throat ached. She wanted to say something but couldn’t
trust her voice. They had been fighting so much lately, usually
about the most trivial things. She wasn’t sure what Alex would
do if she reached out to him. She wanted to be close to him again,
the way they used to be when they could talk about anything,
when just being together and touching one another had been
heaven. Now it took all her courage to cross the room.
Brushing his hands away, she unbuttoned his shirt for him. “I
love you, Alex.” He didn’t say anything. He didn’t touch her. But
he didn’t turn away either. When she finished, she looked up at
him. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
Frowning, he searched her eyes.
She couldn’t read his expression. Fear suddenly overwhelmed
her, and she couldn’t even say why.
His eyes softened. Sighing, he cupped her face. “You’ve always driven me crazy, Sierra,” he said, his voice deep and rough
as his fingers stroked her skin. He didn’t look happy about it.
“Te amo muchísimo,”
she whispered.
He loosened her French braid. Combing his fingers into her
hair, he kissed her.
Sighing in relief, she let the passion sweep through her.
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It has been a long time since I wrote in this journal.
I have had little time to do anything over the
past months except complete the work Aunt Martha prepares for me. I am not complaining. She
says she has Great Expectations for me. When I
do well, she is more pleased than I. While everyone else in this town seems to look upon me as
Mary Magdalene still possessed of demons, Aunt
Martha sees me as Pure Delight. It is beyond me
why. I question everything she teaches me. She
listens and makes no condemnations while others
would not even give me the time of day.
Aunt Martha tells me I was God’s gift to her.
She has never been married and therefore has
never had children of her own. Now, she has two,
me and Joshua.
Joshua is growing so quickly. Sometimes I am
afraid. I can see Sally Mae in him. He has her
blue eyes and gold hair. I see Papa, too. But it is
the other things in him I see that disturb me. He
has Papa’s hot temper and Sally Mae’s lust for
life. I love Joshua so much. But I wonder what
he will become.
Everyone in Galena thinks Joshua is my child.
It is well they do. They think less of me, but treat
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