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    Relative Connections
    Relative Connections
    Relative Connections
    Ebook111 pages1 hour

    Relative Connections

    By F. Sharon Swope, Genilee Swope Parente and Allyn M Stotz

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    About this ebook

    These nine stories look at the bonds that occur when circumstances, bloodlines and social situations toss us together.

    • What happens when a baby is thrown over a cliff to be rescued by a lonely bachelor?
    • What does a farm girl running away from her overbearing family find when she meets a friendly, but scarred stranger on t
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGSP Publishing
    Release dateOct 17, 2018
    ISBN9780999503638
    Relative Connections
    Author

    F. Sharon Swope

    Sharon ran her local hometown newspaper The Edgerton Earth with husband Robert W. Swope for many years and wrote a popular local column for that paper. She always wanted to write fiction, so at age eighty-two, she sat down at a computer and started writing. She is now in her nineties and still passionate about words.

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      Book preview

      Relative Connections - F. Sharon Swope

      Fleeing the Nest

      F. Sharon Swope

      THE DRIVER PUT HIS GIANT BUS in reverse and backed out of the parking slot. Sophie Blackwell let out a huge sigh of relief. I’ve done it. I’ve really done it.

      Four years of planning and saving money hadn’t been easy given the fact she didn’t work outside the home. Her family had discouraged it. You’re too small and vulnerable, was a constant refrain from her brothers, her dad, her uncle and most of her cousins. It’s dangerous and we can’t be out there to take care of you. They seemed to think she had everything she needed right there on the farm. They used the same excuse to discourage her from moving away to attend college, though Sophie suspected part of the truth was the farm had fared too poorly to provide money for further education.

      She was sick of hearing how defenseless and diminutive and vulnerable she was just because she was the only woman on the farm—dwarfed by the giant, strong men who worked the land. She started stashing away money the day she graduated from high school, finally saving enough to get on a bus. She was twenty years old and had never been out of her area for more than a day. Sophie did not care how long she was gone or what happened next. She was doing what she wanted at last. 

      Sophie gazed left out her window at the unfamiliar landscape and wondered at this scenery: she was used to seeing flat farmland boxed in by the lines of trees that were field windbreakers—property delineated by fences. The rolling hills and meandering patches of trees she saw out her window now reminded her of her current situation: free from the bonds of northern Ohio’s neatness.

      Sophie reached up to touch her cheeks, shocked to find wetness. Why am I crying?

      Are you all right? the man to her immediate right asked.

      She turned to study her seatmate and wondered how she’d failed to note his presence. She’d been asleep when he sat down and lost in her thoughts since she woke. His scarred face and wild brown hair could have been frightening if not contrasted by gentle blue eyes rounded slightly by what looked like genuine concern. He would be handsome if not for those horrible scars, she thought, then felt guilty for her thoughts.

      I’m fine, she whispered. She sat up straighter and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Really.

      Are you running away? he asked, shocking her with his frankness.

      Yes, she answered. She wondered why she’d been honest. Probably because she didn’t really have a reason not to be. She’d done nothing illegal, and he certainly didn’t look like a police officer. He was probably just curious or thought she was younger than she was.

      If he could be blunt and nosey, why couldn’t she?

      Are those burn scars on your face? she asked.

      His expression reflected no insult. Instead, he smiled and answered: It seems we’re both good guessers. The remark made her laugh and relax against her seat.

      Husband trouble? he asked next. She sighed deeply and looked back out her window.

      More like brothers and father and too-much-testosterone troubles.

      It was his turn to laugh, and the deep-toned, musical sound surrounded her and somehow soothed her nerves.

      Big families can be a challenge, can’t they? he said when his laughter abated. The words drew her eyes back to his face.

      As if he could feel her studying the scars, he said, The barn caught fire when I was nine. I tried to save the horses, but I was too young to know what to do.

      Sophie didn’t even know what to say to that. His explanation meant he’d had to contend with disfigurement all his adult life. Yet he was accepting enough of his looks not to take offense at her abrupt question.

      They were quiet for a few miles, each lost in thought. His next question broke the silence.

      How far are you going? he asked, as if it was time for lighter conversation.

      As far as a $152 bus ticket would get me. I think my stub says Fredericksburg.

      He smiled again, and the warmth of that smile erased the scars completely. He really did have an interesting face.

      Ah, a beautiful town. You’ll love it. It’s my hometown and I’m headed back. What are doing once you get there?

      I’m finding a job…and hopefully an apartment. At least, that’s the plan, she said.

      Sounds like a good plan, he said.

      They relaxed back against their seats, staring straight ahead and letting the quiet of their individual thoughts rise up around them. Somehow the silence wasn’t awkward.

      What kind of job will you look for? he asked after a few minutes.

      I have no idea, she said. I’m not really qualified for much. I can cook, and I can clean, but I have no desire to do either for a living. I only know the basics of computers. I’ve never been a waitress or a sales clerk. I don’t have the strength or size for physical labor. But I know I’ll find something.

      She sensed him turn towards her, and when she looked his way, she saw a spark of excitement in his eyes.

      What about a receptionist position? You have a beautiful smile and your voice is pleasant. It’s a job you learn as you go.

      "Well that sounds good, but what made you think receptionist?"

      He pulled at his lower lip as if letting his thoughts gel. My brother is looking for someone to work at the front desk of his auto supply shop, he said. It’s a starter position, but he’s a great guy to work for. I could introduce you.

      Sophie felt the tears returning to her eyes but turned quickly away to hide them. Was this stranger sincere? His thoughtfulness touched her, but should it have frightened her as well? She rubbed away the tears and turned back to him.

      That sounds wonderful, she said. But you don’t even know me. And your brother. You don’t think he’ll consider me too inexperienced or even too small for a front desk job? I’m twenty but many people think I’m a child because my feet don’t touch the ground.

      Oh … you consider yourself small?

      Really? she thought and glanced his way. She saw a teasing grin but didn’t return the smile this time. Her size had caused her too much grief.

      Most people think I’m a dwarf or a midget, but I’m really just petite. Still, it makes it hard for people to take me seriously.

      He continued to grin. You’re just perfection in a smaller package, he said.

      She accepted his compliment by joining him in laughter, then they settled back into their seats again.

      Are you happy to be going home? she asked. Have you been away long?

      Just a few days at a pharmacy convention, he said. I own a small drug store in Fredericksburg. I could have taken a plane, but this is a pleasant ride and I avoid crowds … for obvious reasons.

      She turned to study his profile. Do your scars bother you? she asked.

      "Of course, but I’ve gotten used to it. Staring people are a fact of life. I actually find it refreshing when, instead of wondering, people like you just ask me what happened."

      I’m glad because I thought it was pretty rude of me, she said. 

      His illuminating smile returned.

      It’s nice to talk to someone frankly, isn’t it? To be this open, he said. His right hand came up and crossed his body to offer her a handshake. David Franklin, at your service. She took the hand and squeezed it gently.

      Sophie Blackwell. A pleasure to meet you.

      With that comment they both sat back again and closed their eyes, letting

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