As modest and lonely as the room was compared to the warmth of the Gates home, Percy was relieved to be on her own again. She could easily imagine living among the physical comforts of Lacey’s home. After all, while the Gates house seemed quite sophisticated for the lumber community, it was modest compared to the Morgan family home. Percy had no altruistic determination to live under harsh conditions for the rest of her life. Yes, she could imagine and even welcome the physical comforts of a real home. It was the less tangible dimension of the Gates home that would overwhelm her if she were not careful. Could such an atmosphere be true and lasting? She doubted it. So it was better, much better, that she was in her own room once again. Here there was nothing to trigger the memories of her own childhood, nothing to remind her how she had come to live under such curious circumstances in the first place.
She also welcomed the return of her demanding routine. Travis still had not found anyone willing to work with her in the kitchen and garden, but Percy was determined not to relax her ambitions. No matter how physically taxing, she would have a vegetable garden and a clean, well-operated kitchen.
On the fifth day after the accident, Percy set about taking inventory of her supplies and planning menus for the next week or so. She had a craving for potato soup, and she had been hoarding tinned milk for weeks in order to have enough to make a hearty, thick soup. With enthusiasm and a quick step, she crossed the kitchen and opened the cupboard door. Her taste buds were already savoring the soup. She would serve the men and clean up and then sit in the peace and quiet of the mess hall with her own evening meal. Percy reached into the cupboard. Her hands found the tins, but the pile did not feel right. Surely the stack should be taller! Puzzled, she peered into the cupboard—probably one-third of the cans of milk were missing. She had counted them just two days ago and was certain there was enough for the potato soup.
Percy frowned as she turned away from the cupboard. She had taken meals to Josh and Troy regularly and offered extra food in between meals, for which Josh had seemed grateful. Josh should have had no reason to raid her cupboard. Besides, he could not possibly have had use for so much tinned milk.
Curious now, Percy opened another cupboard door. The supply of beef jerky that she sometimes used in the packed lunches was there but, like the milk, it was considerably diminished. Again she told herself that Joshua could not possibly have consumed the quantity of food that was missing. But who would have? If some of the men were sneaking into the kitchen and removing food, she would have to ask Travis to put a stop to it. She planned her meals carefully, making the most of the supplies available, and she simply could not have people coming and fixing themselves snacks whenever they wanted to. Why would such a problem begin now, she wondered. Perhaps it was because people knew that she was not staying in the building at night. But they knew Josh was there, and certainly the men would not think he would approve of their stealing food.
Percy pressed her lips together in a hunch. Outside, in the back of the building, was an outside entrance to the cellar. She kept the potatoes down there in the cool darkness. Surely someone looking for a snack would not raid the potato stash. There was no way to cook them in the bunkhouse, although Percy supposed that anyone could go off into the woods, build a small fire, and roast potatoes.
Taking a burlap sack with her, she went outside to the cellar doors and pulled them open. The cellar was dark and, as always, it took a few minutes for Percy to be able to see when she descended. She was careful that the doors remained wide open behind her. Enough light filtered down the rough stairway that she knew she would be able to gather potatoes as soon as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, so she did not bother with lighting a lamp. The potato supply was substantial. Travis had found a good source and bought a wagonload of potatoes. Percy had portioned them out so that most of the potatoes were at the rear of the large cellar, while a smaller pile was handy at the bottom of the stairs.
While she waited for her eyes to adjust, Percy studied the shadows at the back of the cellar. Something looked different, darker than usual, but she could not quite decide just what was different. Out of habit, she reached down for the potatoes, expecting to easily fill her bag. She stopped almost immediately. The pile was far too small. Percy was positive that quite a few potatoes were missing.
Pensively, she began dropping potatoes into the sack. Something is wrong. What is it?
She turned and peered into the grayness of the cellar and a shadow at the back of the cellar moved. It was almost imperceptible, but Percy was sure she had seen something.
“Who’s there?” Percy demanded. She dropped her sack and reached for the broom that she kept parked against the wall.
The shadow rushed past her, nearly knocking her down in the rush up the stairs.
Percy scrambled to regain her balance and began the chase. No one was going to raid her cellar and get away with it that easily. She charged up the stairs, only steps behind the intruder.
In the open sunlight, the trespasser broke into a sprint across the uncluttered land behind the mess hall. Waving her broomstick, Percy chased him as hard as she could. He clutched a bundle to his chest as he ran. Whoever he was, he really was stealing her food.
Out of breath and outdistanced, Percy finally had to give up. He had gotten away and she had not recognized him. He was not one of the lumberjacks. He was young, probably not more than fifteen, she judged, and skinny as a rail. She turned back to the cellar. This time she paused to light a lamp on the ledge just inside the door and carried it down the stairs.
Percy looked around carefully for she knew exactly what ought to be in the cellar. Two jars of green beans were missing and some cherries she was saving for pies were gone. An apple core gave evidence that the thief had been too hungry to wait until he carried off his loot.
Percy could not imagine who the boy was, but she could remember, painfully, doing something not so different herself when her survival was in question. Whoever he was, he was desperate.
Chapter 17
After that, Percy watched her provisions carefully and wondered how long it would take to get a lock on the cellar door if she decided that she needed one. She had seen with her own eyes that there was an intruder, but she hoped that being discovered would frighten him off. On the other hand, discovery had not always deterred her when she had done the same thing. It only made her quicker and more sly. She was not proud of those days, but at least they had not lasted long—only for a few weeks after Ashley was gone and Percy had struck out on her own. She always hated the thought of stealing anything and, after what her father had done and the way the family had been treated, Percy had wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. Desperately, she had hoped for an alternative to the cunning schemes that had flooded her mind, but none had come. For those few weeks, she had succumbed to something she hated. Perhaps the boy she had seen was not so different.
Lacey came to help in Percy’s garden, after having spent much of the morning working in her own patch. Seeds had sprouted, their delicate leafy greens a testimony to the life and nourishment that they would bear. Some days when there was not much work that really needed to be done in the garden, Percy would simply sit among the plants and dream of the day when her labors would yield a lush harvest. On the day of Lacey’s visit, they pulled out the random small weeds that had survived the tilling process and sprung up once again.
“Judging from the number of green beans you planted,” Lacey said with a twinkle in her eye, “you must have quite a few recipes that require them.”
Percy chuckled. “I may have gotten carried away.”
“We’ll find out when canning time comes.”
“I know even less about canning than I do about gardening,” Percy admitted.
“I suspected as much,” Lacey said. “But you’re a quick learner. You seem to pick up whatever you put your mind to.”
Percy did not answer. She was thinking, If only you knew how much I’ve had to learn. But she c
ould not tell Lacey.
“Josh was asking about you the other day,” Lacey said.
“Oh?”
“He wondered if you were comfortable while you were staying with us.”
“I hope you assured him that I was quite spoiled.”
“He would only say that you deserved to be spoiled.”
“He would?” Percy was stunned.
“I believe I know my brother quite well,” Lacey said, her lips twisting mysteriously to one side, “and I would have to say that he seems to have a particular regard for Miss Percy Morgan.”
Percy blushed. “Don’t be silly. I’ve never given him any encouragement.”
“Is that what city girls are taught to say when a man shows an interest?”
“No…I mean, I don’t know. Josh doesn’t…What makes you say…?” As hard as she struggled, Percy did not seem able to complete a single sentence because what Lacey was inferring took her completely by surprise. Finally, she managed to say, “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. You choose the subject.” Lacey said, hiding her smile and lowering her head to concentrate on a weed.
“Someone has been stealing from my provisions,” Percy said abruptly.
Lacey’s head snapped up. “Have you told Travis?”
Percy shook her head. “I will if I have to, but the boy might not come back.”
“Boy? Not one of the lumberjacks?”
Again, Percy shook her head. “I’d never seen this boy before. He’s young, probably younger than your brother Micah, and skinny as a rail. I thought maybe you would know him.”
“What did he look like?”
Percy shrugged. “Brown hair, I think. I didn’t really get a look at his face. I caught him in the cellar and it was too dark to see him well. He ran out ahead of me, so I saw only his back.”
“Which way did he go?”
Percy pointed into the woods. “That way.”
“Mmmm,” Lacey said thoughtfully. “I suppose he just took off in whatever direction would get him away from you without drawing attention to himself. I can’t imagine who it is. Josh hasn’t mentioned any families up this way, but we could ask him. He might know.”
“Whoever he is, he took several jars of beans, so I may need the ones I’ve planted.”
“What was that?” Lacey asked, looking up and scanning the back of the mess hall.
“What was what?” Percy followed Lacey’s gaze.
“I saw something.”
“A person?”
“No, not a person. But a shadow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Lacey rose to her feet and brushed the dirt off her hands. “I want to investigate.”
“Do you think it might be the thief?”
Lacey scrunched up her face. “If it is, he’s not a very smart thief. Coming back here in broad daylight is asking to be discovered.”
They peered at the back of the building but nothing stirred.
Percy was on her feet now, standing beside Lacey. “Are you sure you saw something?”
“Absolutely,” Lacey insisted. Suddenly she lunged forward. “There it is again.” She broke into a trot and Percy stumbled through the dirt after her. Lacey kept her eyes fixed on what she had seen. “You go around that way,” she said to Percy, pointing to the far side of the mess hall. “Don’t let him run out into the street.” Lacey was in a full run now.
This time Percy had no broom handle in her hands and she wondered what she would do if she did come face to face with the thief. Nevertheless, she followed Lacey’s instruction and she cut around to the other side of the building, glancing around for a weapon as she ran. Just as she rounded the corner at the front of the building, she snatched up the biggest rock she could spot in the dirt. She was fairly confident she could raise it and strike with one hand if necessary.
The boy was pressed up against the front of the building, his face blanched and his lower lip quivering almost imperceptibly. Percy lowered her stone for he was no threat to her.
“I’ve caught him,” Percy called out as Lacey rounded the other side of the building.
“Is it the same boy?” Lacey called back.
At the sound of her voice, the boy wheeled around and faced Lacey. He said nothing. From behind him, Percy saw his shoulders rise and fall with rapid breath.
Lacey stopped in her tracks. “TJ?”
The boy nodded.
Percy came up close behind him to face Lacey. “Do you know him?” she asked, incredulous.
Lacey nodded. “This is TJ Richards. He was once a student of mine.”
“I hope that not all of your students have turned out to be thieves.” Percy regretted her words as soon as she spoke them, but they were already out. How many times have I endured such comments about myself?
Lacey stepped forward to embrace TJ. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
TJ returned the embrace wholeheartedly. He spoke for the first time. “I’ve been watching you. I wanted to be sure it was really you.”
With one arm around TJ’s shoulders, Lacey turned toward the door. “Percy, let’s go inside and give this boy a decent meal while he tells us why he is stealing your green beans and potatoes.”
TJ ate with gusto everything that Percy put in front of him. He was pitifully thin and bony. She opened one of her precious tins of milk and let him have the whole thing, along with some ham and biscuits left over from breakfast.
“It’s been eight years,” Lacey said. “That would make you sixteen now. I remember that you were the same age as my youngest brother, Micah.”
Percy could hardly believe the boys were the same age. Though slight of build himself, Micah was far more robust.
As he consumed the last of the ham, Lacey spoke gently. “TJ, tell us why you’re here. Somehow I don’t think this was an accident.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not an accident. I came looking for you.”
“How did you find me?”
“I’ve been studying maps of Wisconsin for a year or more. I remember all the stories you used to tell us about growing up in the lighthouse and the dangers of the lake.”
“Why have you come?” Lacey asked softly. “Your father?”
TJ grimaced. “He doesn’t know where we are.”
“We? You mean—”
“Sally and Mama are with me,” he said simply.
“You’ve been stealing food to feed your family?”
He nodded. “I remember the day you found me hiding while my daddy was drunk. You wanted to take me home with you.”
“I remember. You wouldn’t come because you thought he would start in on your sister if you left, and you didn’t want to take Sally away and break your mother’s heart.”
“You told me that day that you figured I was God’s business. I never forgot that. And you said that God had made me your business, too.”
Lacey nodded. “I remember.” She turned to Percy. “TJ’s father drinks nearly all the time, and when he’s drunk he beats up on TJ. But TJ didn’t want to leave and put his mother and sister in danger.”
“I can take care of them now,” TJ said. “I’m older and bigger. I can get a job and support them, and I can stand up to my daddy if I have to.”
“How did you convince your mother to leave? I didn’t think she ever would.”
“She didn’t want to at first,” he admitted. “But I told her I was taking Sally, and she would have to choose between Sally and Daddy.”
“She chose Sally.”
He nodded. “I saved and planned for months. She knew I would really do it.”
“Where are your mother and sister?” Lacey asked urgently.
“In the woods. We have a place there.”
“A place?” Lacey asked skeptically.
“We brought a piece of canvas with us, and we have some rope. I made us a tent.”
Lacey stood up. “We must go get them and bring you all here immediately. I won�
�t have you living in the woods for a moment longer.”
Chapter 18
Lacey meant business. “The boys are at Abby’s. Give me a minute to run down and tell her I’ll be gone.”
Before Percy could protest, she was left alone with TJ. He scraped his plate nervously.
“Do you want more to eat?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” he replied softly, not lifting his eyes.
“Are you sure? I have plenty more.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m grateful for the meal.”
“How long has it been since you’ve had a real meal?”
TJ blushed. “Well, my mama can do some amazing things with potatoes and a campfire. But I guess that’s not the same as a real meal.”
“Your mother and sister will be eating better before long, too.”
TJ swallowed hard but said nothing.
“How long has it been since you left home?”
“We’ve been on the road about six weeks,” TJ answered. His voice was barely audible. “But that place was never home to me. I aim to make a real home now. Even if it’s just a piece of canvas in the woods, a home should be safe, a place where you know you belong.”
Percy choked on the lump in her throat. This boy was barely sixteen years old, the age she had been when home as she knew it fell apart. But, to her envy, he had an understanding of what a home ought to be.
TJ cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the food, ma’am.” Now TJ lifted his sincere blue eyes and looked straight at Percy.
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