Just Above a Whisper by Lori Wick

her, even giving up his job at the bank, but it had taken its toll. The fact that she was like a small child when she died had hurt all of her children, but especially Conner, since he had been with her so much at the end.
    “I hate to ask this of you, Conner,” Dalton added, “but I feel this has to be handled by a family member. I would go if Jamie’s condition hadn’t just worsened.”
    Jamie, Dalton’s youngest daughter, was very ill.
    “I understand, Dalton,” Conner said softly, which was his way. “Don’t worry about it.”
    “I’ll get a letter off to the bank manager tomorrow. When do you wish to leave?”
    Conner thought about it, named a date he thought he could manage, and fell silent.
    “How will you do in Tucker Mills, Conner?” Dalton asked when the silence lengthened. “It’s been a long time.”
    Conner smiled a little. “I guess I’ll find out.”
    “Thank you, Conner,” his brother told him sincerely, the two men embracing when Conner stood to leave.
    The younger man climbed into the waiting coach, thinking about what needed to be done to leave Linden Heights and trying not to think about how draining the last months had been. His brother needed him to do this, and he would. He’d take Troy Thaden—a friend and coworker—with him, and that would make a huge difference.
    For a moment his mind was assailed with memories from the past, but he pushed those thoughts away. It was not time to think about them. He would be forced to deal with his past in Tucker Mills soon enough, but not today.

     
    Tucker Mills
    “It’s a hot day,” Mrs. Greenlowe told Reese about a week after she moved in. “I’m going to check on you at Zantow’s.”
    “I’m done at Mr. Zantow’s. I’m headed to the bank to see what needs to be done.”
    Mrs. Greenlowe frowned. She wanted to tell Reese to check in with her but knew that wasn’t practical.
    “Well, drink plenty of water” were her only words.
    Reese thanked her with an amused smile and headed out. The walk to the bank didn’t take long, Reese’s long legs eating the distance, and before she was ready, she was giving a small wave to Mr. Leffler behind the counter and heading toward the alcove that was Mr. Jenness’ office.
    “Come in,” Mr. Jenness commanded as soon as he spotted her. No greeting, no invitation to sit down, no attempt at formality— just an order. “Is the house complete?”
    “Yes, Mr. Jenness.”
    “Very well,” that man said, standing and going to the coat rack for his hat. “I shall go directly there. You will accompany me,” he stopped long enough to say, and then finished pompously, “ I will be the one to judge if you are finished.”

     
    Reese did not follow Mr. Jenness around the house. He had an adverse effect on her emotions. She stayed in the kitchen, not because she’d been told to, but because she hadn’t been told to follow. She had no desire to trail after Mr. Jenness, whose mere presence made her tense and irritated.
    Hearing him on the stairs, Reese tensed all over again and waited for him to enter.
    “This will do,” he condescendingly announced as he stepped across the threshold, and Reese knew that it pained him not to find something to criticize. “You may go to my home now and help my wife. Return to the bank promptly at 4:00. I will give you one hour to clean there.”
    Reese didn’t comment but nodded silently and headed for the door. It occurred to her as she exited that, negative or not, this had been her home for more than five years. Memories of the early days, days when her father was still alive, came rushing to her, swiftly followed by the days and years after his death.
    “Reese!”
    In her preoccupation with leaving Mr. Zantow’s house, she forgot that reporting to the Jenness home would take her directly past Mrs. Greenlowe’s.
    “Where are you headed?” that lady demanded. Reese moved closer so as not to shout her answer.
    “You don’t want to know,” Reese