by Rebecca York
It appeared that Jack wasn’t home. But what if he were in there—hurt?
She tested the doorknob, and it turned. Stepping inside, she looked around at primitive surroundings. A pallet lay near the fireplace—which must be where he slept. But she saw no sign of him.
“Jack,” she called out.
When he didn’t answer, she stepped outside and tried again. Cupping her hands around her mouth to make a megaphone, she called, “Jack.”
From far away, it seemed like she heard a muffled answer. It wasn’t coming from the house or anyplace she could see.
Again, she shouted his name.
“Over here.” She thought it was his voice, but she still didn’t know where he was.
Somewhere outside.
“I don’t know where you are. Keep talking to me so I can find you.”
“If you’re facing the house, turn left and go toward the woods.”
She heard the strain in his voice as he continued, “You’ll see where a tree has fallen. But don’t get near it until I tell you what to do,” he added, his voice urgent.
“Where are you?”
He made a frustrated sound. “In the well.”
Her heart started to pound. “Oh, my Lord. What happened?”
“Tell you later.”
It sounded like he didn’t have the energy to keep talking.
As she followed his directions, she saw the tree he was talking about. It was huge and sprawled across the ground like a tornado had ripped it up and thrown it down again. Some of the limbs had been knocked off in the crash and were scattered around the ground.
“I hear you up there.” Jack’s voice turned urgent. “Be very careful. Don’t come too close. You could fall in, too.”
“The well is under the branches?”
“Yes.”
Heeding his warning, she picked her way carefully through the debris, her eyes probing the tangle of broken wood. She wanted to run toward him, but she knew she couldn’t.
As she moved carefully forward, she kept her eyes peeled for the well cover. After what seemed like centuries, she spotted it. Only about a third of it was visible. The rest must have been pounded into the ground.
Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled closer until she could look over the concrete lips and down into blackness. A shudder ran through her. “You’re down there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I stopped myself from falling to the bottom by grabbing some bricks sticking out, but I can’t climb up.”
“Should I run back and get Mr. Conway?”
He puffed out a breath. “No. I can’t hang on much longer.”
She went cold all over, then forced herself to calmness. “What should I do?”
“There’s rope in the toolbox in the truck bed. If you tie it to a branch, I can haul myself up.”
Quickly she reversed her course, scrambling back through the ruined giant.
When she reached open ground, she stood and hurried back to the truck, then fumbled with the catch on the huge toolbox that spanned the width of the open bed. Pawing through the contents, she couldn’t see any rope and felt her panic swell.
Stay calm she told herself.
Making a quick inspection of the box, she realized she was only looking at the top tray. When she swung it forward, she found the rope and snatched it up before running back toward the tree.
As quickly as she could, she looped the rope around a sturdy branch near the gaping hole of the well, then tied a square knot, After testing to make sure that the knot would hold, she dragged the rope to the well.
“Almost ready,” she called out to Jack.
“Thanks.”
“I’m going to lower the rope.”
She dangled it over the side and played it out, lowering it a couple of yards before she heard him call out. “I’ve got it.”
The rope went taut, and she knew he had transferred his weight from the bricks to the lifeline.
She could hear him moving in the darkness, pulling himself slowly up. But he must have been down there for a long time, and he’d used up most of his strength just preventing himself from falling to the bottom.
He should have tied it around his waist so she could pull him up, she thought, then realized he would have had to let go of the wall to do it.
“I’m going to help pull from this end,” she called down.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
She began to tug, but she could tell she wasn’t doing much good. He was too heavy for her to make much headway.
Agonizing minutes slipped by as she prayed he could make it to the top.
She saw his hands first, then his face, strain etched on his features. She wanted to let go of the rope and reach for him, but she knew he could fall back. Instead she kept the tension on her end, holding her breath, feeling each second slide by like a century.
Chapter Eight
A wave of relief hit Sophie as she saw Jack’s shoulders emerge, then his chest. When he flopped partway over the edge, she reached for him, grasping him under the arms, helping pull him the last few inches.
He lunged out, crashing into her, and they both flopped to the ground, with her landing on top.
For long moments, they lay where they were, both of them gasping in air.
She clasped her arms around him, as he’d done when she made her graceless exit from the truck. And his arms worked their way around her.
The moment felt charged with intensity, and as they hung on to each other, she lowered her head, finding his mouth with hers. She wasn’t sure what she had intended. Probably a kiss to tell him how thankful she was that he’d made it to the top.
But as his lips moved under hers, she could tell it was more than that. The kiss was a recognition that whatever was happening between them had reached another level.
Joy flooded through her as his arms tightened around her and his lips moved urgently against hers. She wanted to stay in his arms, kissing him. But reality added another layer of awareness. She was lying on top of him, pressing him to the cold ground, and he’d been in that well for hours. She allowed herself a few more seconds of contact, then rolled off of him and sat up, a tree branch digging into her thigh.
He blinked, and it looked like he was bringing the scene into focus.
His first words weren’t what she had expected.
“I feel like a jerk,” he huffed, “for falling in. I’m damned lucky you came along.” Pushing himself up, he sat looking around. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Conway was worried about you. He sent me to find out why you didn’t come to the stable. What happened?”
He dragged in a breath and let it out. “The tree came down in the storm. I figured I’d better start cleaning it up. I waded in and saw one of the pieces of the well cover, but it must have been thrown several yards. When I started toward it, I stepped in the opening and went down.”
“Thank the Lord, you caught yourself.” She picked up one of his hands and turned it over. When she saw the fingertips were red and abraded, her breath hitched. “You’re hurt.”
“It’ll heal.”
“You need some antiseptic on them. And I promised your mom I’d let her know as soon as I found you. And Hannah”
He looked away. “And everybody is going to want to hear the story.”
She understood what he was feeling. “It could have happened to anyone.”
Without acknowledging the comment, he said, “We’d better get it over with.”
When he started to push himself to his feet, he winced.
“What?”
“I must have banged my knee.”
“Let me help you.”
“I’m fine,” he protested. Stooping, he began to coil up the rope, then slung it over his shoulder. But when he started to take a step, the knee buckled.
Moving quickly, she slipped her arm around his waist and helped him maneuver through the branches
.
“I thought I’d start on cutting some of the branches before I went down to the stables,” he said, then flapped his hand in a gesture of frustration. “I should have waited for Dad to come help.”
She wasn’t sure what to say about that, so she only murmured, “I’ll put the rope away.”
“Can you drive?” he asked.
She looked down at the ground. “Sorry. No. We don’t have a car.”
“I didn’t realize that’s why you used to show up in that wagon with the laundry.”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “I’d better not try to work the clutch.”
“Can I help you walk?”
“And have everybody see us?” he snapped, then looked embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“I understand,” she answered. Thinking for a moment, she suggested. “What about a walking stick.”
He considered the idea. “OK, yeah.”
She searched through the broken limbs, found a suitable small branch and brought it to him.
After he shifted some of his weight to the stick, he started cautiously off. She walked beside him as he made his slow way toward the farmhouse. At least it was downhill.
The first person Sophie saw as they reached the bottom of the hill was Jenny. She came flying out of the house, holding her doll and shouting. “They’re here. She found him.”
Under his breath, Jack muttered, “Oh, great.”
Mr. Conway came running from the barn. Dora and Hannah came out of the house, all of them charging toward him.
“Give him some breathing space,” Sophie called out.
That slowed the onrush. But it wasn’t going to get in the way of the explanation.
She glanced at Jack who looked like he wanted to sink back into the well.
He tensed, then said, “I was trying to cut branches from a tree that fell in the storm. It broke the cover of an old well up there.” He paused.
“Did you fall in?” Jenny demanded.
“Yes. But Sophie threw me a rope.”
“Are you all right? How far did you fall?” Mr. Conway asked.
Dora turned to the crowd. “Don’t make him stand out here in the cold.” To Jack she said, “Come into the kitchen and sit down.”
Still leaning on the walking stick, Jack limped after his mother into the house. When the others started to troop in, Sophie said, “Maybe we should give them some time together.”
Hannah nodded and looked at Jenny. “Why don’t we go down to the stable and say hello to Lucy.”
“But Emeline wants to find out about Jack.”
“We will. But later.”
Mr. Conway turned to Sophie. “Can you tell me what happened.”
“It’s what he said. The well cover got split and flew apart. He saw a piece of it, but he didn’t see the well. I guess he thought the piece was still partially covering the opening.”
“And then what?”
“He fell in and kept himself from going all the way down. But he couldn’t climb out. He told me to get the rope from the truck, and he pulled himself up.”
“Why didn’t you come get me?”
She swallowed. “He said he’d been holding for a long time, and . . . he couldn’t do it much longer.”
Mr. Conway dragged in a breath and let it out. “It sounds like you got there just in time.”
“Yes.” She looked at her employer, then said, “but he doesn’t want everyone fussing over him.”
“Of course.” He scuffed his foot against the ground. “I need to ask you about something else.”
As always when she was worried about her job, alarm shot through her. “Is something wrong?”
“Well, Dora is having more trouble with her arthritis. And…” He paused. “My wife is in the family way.”
“How wonderful,” Sophie exclaimed.
“Yes, but she isn’t feeling well in the mornings. We were hoping you could take over more of the housework and cooking.”
Relieved that was all he wanted, she answered, “Of course.”
“We talked about it, and we’re hoping you could move to the farm for a while. We’d fix up the room for you down by the kitchen, and you could sleep there.”
Sophie blinked. Increasing her hours was one thing. But moving over here was something else.
“What about my family?” she blurted.
“We talked about that, too. We’d raise your wages and we were thinking we could give you an advance on the next few months—which you could give your mother for food and such. That should help out with your situation at home.”
Sophie felt torn in two directions. “I’d have to talk to her.”
“Of course. And—please don’t share our news with anyone else besides her. We’re not ready to tell anyone.”
“I understand. I can let you know tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
Momma had the same reaction to the proposal as Sophie. The prospect of having a large cash payment was enticing, but she hated the idea of her daughter leaving the family.
Sophie wanted to say, “I’m going to leave when I get married.” Then she wondered how that particular idea had leaped into her head.
Instead, she tried to argue for the practicality of Mr. Conway’s proposal.
“You can buy the boys some Christmas presents,” she said.
She could see her mother’s eyes light up at the prospect of giving her little brothers a better holiday than anyone had anticipated.
“And you can stock the pantry so that you’re not always worried about food.”
“Yes.”
“And Highland Farm is close to home. It’s not like I’m going off to work in Baltimore or anything like that.”
In the end they decided it was for the best. And when Mr. Conway came to pick up Sophie in the morning, she said she could move in.
“Then why don’t you take a few minutes to gather up some of your clothing, so you’ll be all set and won’t have to come back later,” he suggested.
That made sense, but it was an abrupt finality that Sophie hadn’t been expecting.
When she came back in the house, Momma gave her a questioning look.
“That’s so—quick.”
“I know. Tell the boys that I’ll be back in a day or two to say goodbye to them.”
Sophie didn’t have a lot of clothing, and she couldn’t shake a feeling of betrayal as she put most of her belongings into a feed sack. But she’d agreed to the arrangement and did her best to get ready.
Hannah and Jenny were waiting on the porch when they got back to the farm.
Responding to the questioning look in Hannah’s eyes, Sophie said, “I’ve accepted the offer to stay at the farm?”
“We’re so glad,” Hannah answered.
“Sophie’s moving in with us?” Jenny asked.
“Yes,” her mother answered.
“Keen.”
“We’d better go have a look at your room,” Hannah said. “I’m sure it’s going to need some work.”
Jenny led the way to a small bedroom that was in back of the kitchen. There was a twin bed along one wall, a nightstand with a lamp, a chest of drawers, a chair and pegs for hanging clothing. But all the surfaces, including a lot of the floor, were covered with various discards that had been stowed in there to get them out of the way.
“You or your family will be able to use some of this,” Hannah said as she picked up a dress that was better quality than Sophie had ever owned.
“Why is it in here?”
Mr. Conway laughed. “I think my thought was that it was too youthful. Which means it will probably work for you or your mother.”
“It’s out of style,” Hannah murmured.
Hannah knew roaring twenties styles had changed dramatically when the Great Depression hit. But she didn’t care about fashion.
“Let’s take the coverlet off the bed first and put it in the wash,” Dora suggested. With it gone, we’ll be able to use the surface to sort things
.”
Just then Hannah gave everyone an apologetic look. “Pardon me. I’m not feeling so well now. I’ll come back in a while.”
Without waiting for any comments, she dashed out of the room, and they heard her sprinting for the stairs.
“Momma has a tummy upset,” Jenny said. “Emeline says she hopes she’s gonna be OK.”
“I’m sure she’ll be better soon,” Dora answered. “Sometimes that happens to ladies.”
The adults exchanged glances over the little girl’s head, and Sophie realized Dora had been let in on the family news. But of course, she had. The Conways hadn’t want her to think a younger woman was replacing her.
Jenny went off to see how her mother was doing.
When she and Sophie were alone, the housekeeper cleared her throat, “I want to thank you for saving Jack.”
“I didn’t. . .”
“Of course you did. I could see by looking at him that he was about at the end of his strength.”
“I was so scared when I realized he was in the well. How is he?”
“His knee is better. And so are the scrapes on his hands.”
“Good.”
“I got him to spend the night at our house, but I couldn’t get him to stay in bed today. He’s still kicking himself for the accident and wants to make up for the work he missed yesterday.”
“I hope he gets over feeling. . .” She shrugged. “Embarrassed.”
“If he doesn’t, I’m going to kick his behind around the horse track.”
Sophie choked out a laugh.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
Sophie suggested Dora sit on the bed so she wouldn’t have to bend over and pick things up. The housekeeper took the suggestion, wincing a little as she eased down onto the mattress.
Settling Dora, Sophie was doing most of the work, but she didn’t mind sorting through this treasure trove of discards from the Conway family.
In addition to clothing, there were linens the family no longer used, kitchen equipment that was better than what Sophie’s mom had at home, and even some toys that had probably belonged to Mr. Conway. When Hannah came back, they showed her what they’d found, and she said Sophie could take anything she wanted.
