Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western by Samantha Warren Page A
Authors: Samantha Warren
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what they wanted.
She sidled up next to David and held out the plate. “For you, my darling.” She batted her lashes and held her smile firmly in place. He stared at her for a moment before reaching out to take it. Her fingers opened and the plate tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere..
"Oops," she said, the smile never leaving her face. With a not-so-apologetic shrug, she turned and walked back to the house with her head held high. The hearty chuckles of the ranch hands followed her all the way to the steps.
Isabelle was out of the cupboard when Charity came back in the house. "I'll take my supper now, Isabelle."
She heard some banging and scampering in the kitchen as she settled into her chair in the dining room. The setting sun streamed onto the table. Charity gazed out the window and curled her nose. Fields as far as the eye could see. The nearest neighbor was more than an hour's carriage ride away. Not that she would ever visit them by choice. The woman was a breeding factory. They had six children already and another on the way. She fawned over her husband, who adored her just the same, and it was the picture perfect family. David hadn't touched Charity in months. Every child reminded her of her failed marriage. She would just as soon stay away from everyone as subject herself to that again.
"M'lady." Isabelle kept her eyes on the table as she set the plate in front of Charity.
Charity picked up her fork and knife as she examined the plate. Roasted chicken, corn, and some green stuff that she didn't recognize. She poked at it with her fork.
"It's greens, m'lady."
Charity curled her nose. "I know what it is. And you know I don't like them."
"Yes, m'lady. Mr. David asked for them."
Charity's teeth clenched so hard they ground audibly. Isabelle had put them on her plate on purpose, out of pure spite. The anger boiled over and got the better of her. "Hold out your hand."
Isabelle hesitated. “I'm sorry, ma'am?”
Charity turned her head slowly and caught the maid in her glare. “I said... Hold... Out... Your... Hand.”
She stared the girl down as a shaking hand slowly made its way toward the table. Charity snatched it and jerked it over so it was facing palm up. Then she scooped the greens off her plate with her fork and plopped them right onto Isabelle's waiting hand.
The young woman gasped as the hot food scalded her skin. The look of sheer horror on her face cooled Charity's anger a bit, but she forced back the guilt that was rising in her chest. She let the woman stand there with the burning pain for another thirty seconds before she waved at her with her fork.
“ Well?”
Isabelle's mouth snapped shut and she scampered out of the dining room into the kitchen. Charity allowed herself a small, bitter smile. It felt good to have power, even if it was just over someone like Isabelle. She was sure she'd hear about it from David in the morning, but at least it would force him to talk to her.
Charity finished her dinner and left the plate for Isabelle to clean up. In the sitting room, she wandered around, looking at the few books on the sparse shelves. She loved the sight of them, but she had already read the ones she could read and David wouldn't help her with the others. She trailed her fingers along their spines. She pulled out one book and thumbed through it before putting it back. David had refused to buy her more that she could read, instead holding to his father's claims that women didn't need to read. She decided she didn't care what he thought. On their next trip into town, she was going to buy more, regardless of his wishes.
With a small sense of satisfaction at her rebellious decision, she sat in her chair and picked up her sewing. She stared at the half-finished piece for awhile and set it back down. Then she went to the back window and watched the wheat sway gently to the horizon. She wandered to the front window and watched one of the hired men working with the new colt
She sidled up next to David and held out the plate. “For you, my darling.” She batted her lashes and held her smile firmly in place. He stared at her for a moment before reaching out to take it. Her fingers opened and the plate tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere..
"Oops," she said, the smile never leaving her face. With a not-so-apologetic shrug, she turned and walked back to the house with her head held high. The hearty chuckles of the ranch hands followed her all the way to the steps.
Isabelle was out of the cupboard when Charity came back in the house. "I'll take my supper now, Isabelle."
She heard some banging and scampering in the kitchen as she settled into her chair in the dining room. The setting sun streamed onto the table. Charity gazed out the window and curled her nose. Fields as far as the eye could see. The nearest neighbor was more than an hour's carriage ride away. Not that she would ever visit them by choice. The woman was a breeding factory. They had six children already and another on the way. She fawned over her husband, who adored her just the same, and it was the picture perfect family. David hadn't touched Charity in months. Every child reminded her of her failed marriage. She would just as soon stay away from everyone as subject herself to that again.
"M'lady." Isabelle kept her eyes on the table as she set the plate in front of Charity.
Charity picked up her fork and knife as she examined the plate. Roasted chicken, corn, and some green stuff that she didn't recognize. She poked at it with her fork.
"It's greens, m'lady."
Charity curled her nose. "I know what it is. And you know I don't like them."
"Yes, m'lady. Mr. David asked for them."
Charity's teeth clenched so hard they ground audibly. Isabelle had put them on her plate on purpose, out of pure spite. The anger boiled over and got the better of her. "Hold out your hand."
Isabelle hesitated. “I'm sorry, ma'am?”
Charity turned her head slowly and caught the maid in her glare. “I said... Hold... Out... Your... Hand.”
She stared the girl down as a shaking hand slowly made its way toward the table. Charity snatched it and jerked it over so it was facing palm up. Then she scooped the greens off her plate with her fork and plopped them right onto Isabelle's waiting hand.
The young woman gasped as the hot food scalded her skin. The look of sheer horror on her face cooled Charity's anger a bit, but she forced back the guilt that was rising in her chest. She let the woman stand there with the burning pain for another thirty seconds before she waved at her with her fork.
“ Well?”
Isabelle's mouth snapped shut and she scampered out of the dining room into the kitchen. Charity allowed herself a small, bitter smile. It felt good to have power, even if it was just over someone like Isabelle. She was sure she'd hear about it from David in the morning, but at least it would force him to talk to her.
Charity finished her dinner and left the plate for Isabelle to clean up. In the sitting room, she wandered around, looking at the few books on the sparse shelves. She loved the sight of them, but she had already read the ones she could read and David wouldn't help her with the others. She trailed her fingers along their spines. She pulled out one book and thumbed through it before putting it back. David had refused to buy her more that she could read, instead holding to his father's claims that women didn't need to read. She decided she didn't care what he thought. On their next trip into town, she was going to buy more, regardless of his wishes.
With a small sense of satisfaction at her rebellious decision, she sat in her chair and picked up her sewing. She stared at the half-finished piece for awhile and set it back down. Then she went to the back window and watched the wheat sway gently to the horizon. She wandered to the front window and watched one of the hired men working with the new colt
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