Diamond Duo by Marcia Gruver Page A

“Rumor has it folks have taken their own lives by jumping off the bluff. And there was a murder happened there once.” She peeked at Bertha. “Or so they say.”
    Annie’s eyes widened. “A murder?”
    “And a suicide,” Mose said over his shoulder. “Some poor muggins caught his wife on the ridge with his own brother. Rolled them off the edge and then sailed in after them.” He chuckled, raising his hand to the sky before dipping it low again. “Took him a leap, he did. I heard it wasn’t the trip down he minded so much. Just the sudden stop.”
    Bertha raised her brows at Annie and shook her head. “That story’s not true.”
    Mose turned around to look at her. “Sure is, too.”
    “Then why doesn’t anyone know their names? If there was any truth to it, someone around here could say who it was. It’s a legend, Mose. You shouldn’t spread it about.”
    Mose looked from Bertha to Annie while a slow flush colored his cheeks. Without a word, he faced the front and flicked the reins, and the old horse eased into motion.
    Rhodie reached to pat Annie’s hand. “Don’t worry your pretty self, ma’am. Even if it’s true, nothing as bad as murder happens around Jefferson anymore.”
    “Why, thank you, darlin’. I’m comforted by that thought.” The radiant smile Annie turned on Rhodie caused her to blush brighter than Mose and duck her head.
    Bertha stewed about Magda for the rest of the trip. The othersseemed lost in thoughts of their own, until Mose pulled to the side of the road at a spot where a small muddy clearing narrowed into an overgrown trail. He wrapped the reins around the post and jumped off to open the rear end and help Annie climb down. She thanked him then straightened her skirt and reached for her bag and parasol.
    Bertha held up her hand. “Wait, Annie.” She reached for Mose’s outstretched arm and scooted to the ground. “Why don’t you leave your things right here? Mose can pick us up when he’s done. Can’t you, Mose?”
    “Sure, but I won’t be back for an hour or so. And I’ll be packing wood when I come.”
    Bertha looked at Annie. “I don’t mind if she doesn’t.”
    Annie shook her head. “It’s better than walking.”
    Mose raised the tailgate. “Meet you right here, then. If you ain’t standing on the road when I come, I’ll send Sissy in after you.”
    Rhodie gasped and slapped her brother’s arm. “Nuh-uh! I ain’t traipsing through those woods alone.”
    Bertha chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ll be here. And, Rhodie, mind Annie’s nice things, won’t you? Don’t let Mose pile cypress on them.”
    Rhodie rose up on her knees and peered at the matching yellow parasol and reticule with anxious eyes. “I won’t. But they’re sure to get filthy in the bottom of this raggedy old crate. Give them to me, Mose. I’ll hold them up front.”
    Bertha tried to pass the items to Mose, but he threw up his hands and backed away. “I ain’t touching them girlie things.”
    Annie laughed aloud. “Go on. Take them. They won’t bite.”
    He retreated farther and shook his head, staring as if facing down a copperhead.
    “I swear,” Bertha cried. “The more I learn about men, the more outlandish they seem.” She shook her head and walked around to give the things to Rhodie. “Don’t let any of this yellow silk touch your brother. We wouldn’t want him to perish.”
    Rhodie grinned. “I won’t.”
    Bertha turned to face Annie. “Ready now?”
    “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
    They were halfway across the clearing when Bertha remembered. She pivoted on the ball of her foot and ran toward the road.
    “Mose, wait!”
    He pulled the horse to a stop and turned on the seat. “Yeah?”
    Bertha hurried to Rhodie’s side of the rig and reached for Annie’s reticule then held the bag aloft. “We forgot the chocolate.”
    Annie waved her hand. “Go ahead and get it, Bertha. I don’t mind. And give them each a piece while you’re at it.”
    Bertha rummaged