by Jan Watson
Lilly would love the trip. So what was really so upsetting? Copper tried to think it through as she hung dripping laundry on the line.
For one thing there was the time. A month was way too long for Lilly to be gone from her family. Copper would have to negotiate with Alice over that. And it bothered her that Alice thought she would so easily acquiesce to her demands—like a dog flopping on its back and showing its belly. Copper snapped a bedsheet so hard, it flew from her hands and landed in the dirt.
Give me patience, Lord, she prayed as she put the sheet back in the burbling wash water. She would have prayed for understanding, but she wasn’t quite ready for that. There was no use in praying for something she wasn’t ready to receive, and she was in no way ready to empathize with Alice Corbett Upchurch.
By midmorning, when Mary’s sister arrived with oohs and aahs for her brand-new niece, Copper was ready to go home.
Big Boy saddled her chestnut mare and led the horse from the stable. He stroked the horse’s long nose. “She’s a beauty.”
“Yes, she is,” Copper agreed, putting a foot in the stirrup and accepting Big Boy’s hand up. “I’m glad to have her.”
“Say, do you ever hear from Darcy Thomas?”
Copper was not surprised at the question, for she had purchased the mare from Darcy, who happened to be her hired girl’s sister. Darcy’s husband had assaulted Darcy’s brother-in-law Ace Shelton and nearly killed him. Although Ace had recovered, Darcy’s husband was still in a federal prison. Darcy had moved from Troublesome Creek with her infant son to be near her husband. It was a complicated situation, and folks still talked about it.
By all accounts Darcy was doing well, though. The dressmaker’s shop she owned in the city was a thriving business. She made all of Copper’s family’s attire except for John’s heavy overalls. Those she ordered by the half dozen from the Sears Book of Bargains catalog.
“We got a note from Darcy just last week. She sent it in a package of dresses I ordered for the girls.” Copper took the reins Big Boy unwound from the hitching post. “It sounds like things are going well for her.”
“I’m glad,” Big Boy said. “It weren’t her fault—what her husband did. I always wondered why she didn’t stay here with her family while he served his time.”
“There’s no figuring love,” Copper said.
Little Merry Prudence set up a wail that could be heard all the way to the stable.
“Speaking of which,” Big Boy said with a chuckle.
Copper waved as she rode away.
“Thanks again,” Big Boy called after her. “Mary and I sure do appreciate you.”
Copper let Chessie amble along. Although she was anxious to get home, she enjoyed the slow pace. It seemed the only quiet time she had was on horseback while returning from her midwifery duties. She used the time wisely in silent contemplation and prayer.
Chessie seemed to like their quiet time also. She was such a sweet and docile horse even if skittish at times. Copper leaned forward and patted Chessie’s muscular neck. The horse gave a little whinny of satisfaction before something pinged off her left flank. Chessie’s ears perked, and she raised her front hoofs in alarm.
Copper pulled the reins in tightly and looked behind them on the packed trail. It was just a pinecone, large and well-formed, left over from last fall. It had startled Chessie, but she was not hurt. Copper studied the woods. There were many pines lining the road.
This would be a good place to bring the children later in the year to gather pine knots for the fireplace and for Christmas decorations. Lilly would especially like that. She gathered pretty things all year to decorate their tree with.
Chessie picked up to a trot. It seemed that neither of them could wait to get home.
6
Lilly skipped down the lane to the creek. She was so happy, she hopscotched without a hopscotch board. But if there had been one, she thought, she would have won. She bet she could even beat Kate Jasper right now. And that was never easy, for Kate had longer legs than Lilly. That was a definite advantage when you played a hopping game.
Maybe she would see Kate tomorrow night at the schoolhouse dance. Mama was letting her go with Manda and her family. Lilly thought it would be fun. Wow, two fun things to think about—a dance and a visit with Aunt Alice for the whole month of July!
Lilly had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about the trip. She would go on the train—she loved trains, with all the screeching of brakes and whistling of whistles and belching of smoke. And then Aunt Alice said that a circus was coming to Lexington. They had missed the circus last year.
Lilly wondered if Aunt Alice would have chocolate ice cream again. She licked her lips. She would like to meet the man who invented ice cream and the one who invented shaved ice too. Purple was her favorite color of shaved ice.
It would pay to be extra grown-up for the next couple of weeks so Mama and Daddy wouldn’t have any reason not to let her take a train trip by herself. Last night after supper when she was given Aunt Alice’s invitation, she could tell her mother didn’t really want to let her go to Lexington alone. Good grief. You’d think she was still a little kid. She held out her arms, threw back her head, and twirled around in excitement. When she stopped, the world kept spinning.
When her eyes settled, she saw a turtle trundling up the bank of the creek. He made slow but steady progress until a thick piece of driftwood blocked the way. Lilly watched to see how the turtle would solve his predicament. With his clawed front feet, the turtle tried to climb the refuse.
“Go around,” she said. “It will only take a little longer.”
But the turtle didn’t listen and fell backward in slow motion. The poor thing waved his stubby legs, rocking his shell, trying to right himself.
Lilly laughed. It reminded her of Jack flailing about on the rope swing.
When Lilly got close, the turtle’s head and feet disappeared lickety-split inside his domicile. It was the only fast thing a turtle could do. Carefully, she turned the creature over and lifted him by his middle. Stepping over the piece of driftwood, she carried the turtle up the bank and set him down facing away from the creek. She didn’t know his destination, but now he had a head start.
She wondered why animals were always wandering. There he had the perfect home with food and running water close at hand, but he wanted to be someplace else. It was like that with other creatures too, she had noticed. Sometimes on the way to town she would see a skunk or a possum lying dead by the side of the road. Why didn’t they stay on the safe side of the track? She would have to ask Daddy John.
Maybe traveling was an adventure for them like going to Lexington to visit Aunt Alice was for her. If so, she could understand, but there was no chocolate ice cream reward for turtles and skunks at the end of their journey.
As she walked along, Lilly watched for pretties to add to her treasure box. She had every color of feather you could think of: blue from bluebirds and blue jays, red from cardinals, rusty orange from a robin’s chest, soft gray from doves, brown from mockingbirds and wrens, gold from finches, and yellow from wild canaries. She kept them pressed in a heavy book. Maybe she would take the book to the city with her. If she asked, Aunt Alice would have her dressmaker sew Lilly a dress in each feather color. She thought about it. Would that make her spoiled? Mama always worried about Aunt Alice spoiling her, like she was a jar of tomatoes going bad. Maybe she’d just ask for ribbons in each color. She’d leave out the brown feather though. Brown did not go well with her hair.
Giving a wide berth, Lilly passed by the stump where the rattlesnake lived. Thankfully, he did not come out to greet her with his whirring tail today.
Farther up the creek she searched for traps. She didn’t find a single one. And the one she had busted was gone too. There was nothing left but a hole in the ground where the stake had been. Lilly puffed out her chest in pride. Someone was getting her message. Kneeling, Lilly smoothed the disturbed ground and covered it with decayin
g leaves. Because of her, no other animal would die on this spot.
Two chattering chipmunks chased each other around the trunk of a tree. High overhead a squirrel snapped his tail in warning.
Lilly walked on until she came to a low fieldstone wall. Her side of the wall was deep in the shadow of trees, so she stepped over and sat with her back against the warm rock, admiring the meadow full of wildflowers spread out before her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and closed her eyes to sharpen her hearing. Something scratched for food. A towhee, she decided. And that slow, deliberate pad of hooves was surely a doe. Holding her breath, she opened her eyes the least bit and peered at the backside of a huge buck. Suddenly the meadow was alive with deer. She had never seen so many. She wished Aunt Remy were sitting beside her. This was a sight meant to be shared.
She could hear the soft snort of the buck’s breath as he munched sweet grass and the tumble of clear water rushing over creek rock. A foreign but unmistakable sound intruded on the peaceful scene—the sharp, metallic cock of a gun.
What she was about to do was wrong—wrong and dangerous. Daddy John had explained to her about chickens and pigs and squirrels and deer and how God gave us meat to nourish our bodies, but she couldn’t sit by and watch. She jumped up and waved her arms. “Run! Run for your lives!”
At the sound of her voice, the meadow that had been so peaceful was full of thumping and thrashing as the deer bolted. Lilly’s heart thumped in tune.
A tall boy about her age stepped out from behind a walnut tree. He was barefoot and carried his gun in the crook of his arm with the barrel aimed at the ground. The hindquarters of two freshly killed rabbits protruded from a leather pouch fastened to his belt.
“You’re not supposed to hunt here,” Lilly said. “This is private property.”
“You’ve crossed over.” The boy pointed to the rock fence with the barrel of his gun. “Yon side’s Pelfreys’. This side’s Stills’. Best you mind your whereabouts.”
The threat made Lilly uneasy. She scrambled over to the shadowy side of the fence. “I’m sorry.”
A fat beagle ran up behind the boy, sniffing at his heels. The boy kicked backward, catching the dog under its chin. The beagle yelped and backed up.
“That was mean,” Lilly said, reaching across the top of the wall and snapping her fingers toward the dog.
“I never hurt her none. I barely touched her. Besides a hunting dog’s got to be tough.” The boy stared at her. “You’re over the line again.” With the barrel of the gun, he moved her arm aside.
“You’re being silly now,” she said.
“Are you one of them Pelfreys?”
“I’m Lilly Gray Corbett. What’s your name?”
“Tern Still.”
“How come I’ve never met you before? Don’t you go to school?”
Tern raked a shock of black hair out of his eyes. “I get my learning at the school of hard knocks.”
“Hmm,” Lilly said. “Hard Knocks. That’s a funny name for a place. Did you ever hear of Monkey’s Eyebrow?”
“Are you poking fun at me?” Tern asked.
Lilly broke a piece of the biscuit snack she had in her pocket and pitched it over the fence. The dog gobbled it up and looked for more. “She’s awful hungry to be so fat.”
“She ain’t fat. She’s expecting puppies.”
Puppies! Lilly’s heart turned over. “Oh, then you must feed her extra.”
“Ha,” Tern sniggered. “Fat chance. If she don’t hunt, she don’t eat.”
Lilly’s temper flared. She shook her finger at him. “Listen, I know a bunch about babies. If you don’t feed the mother right, the babies won’t be born healthy.”
The boy looked at Lilly. His eyes were the the oddest pale blue, like icicles in moonlight.
“It don’t matter none,” he said. “She’ll whelp curs. We won’t be keeping them.”
“Are they all promised already?” Lilly asked. “Maybe my mother would let me have one.”
A sharp whistle caused Tern to jerk his head around. “I’ve got to go,” he said.
Lilly held out the rest of the biscuit. “Would you take this for her?”
Tern’s hand was warm when it brushed hers.
“Good-bye,” she called as he walked away. “It was nice meeting you.”
He didn’t answer.
He isn’t very polite, Lilly thought. They must not teach manners at Hard Knocks School. Actually, she didn’t learn much about deportment at her school either, but her mother knew about such things, and Aunt Alice was a stickler. Lilly was to have private lessons on table manners while she was at Aunt Alice’s house. Aunt Alice had said so in her letter. Lilly couldn’t wait.
Tern and his dog were almost out of sight. The beagle was nosing the boy’s cupped hand. Lilly could tell she was eating the biscuit. That made her heart feel good, but she was disappointed that Tern had not offered to give her a puppy. She was all but certain her mother would have said yes to it, and if she didn’t, Lilly would have gone to Daddy John. She could talk him into anything.
7
Manda sat on her bed and buckled her shoes. Her hike up Spare Mountain had had the desired effect on the two-piece wooden soles. They were nicely scuffed. She gathered her skirts in both hands and practiced a few clogging steps.
“You’re pretty as a picture,” her sister-in-law Cara said, holding a brush aloft. “Sit here at the dresser and let me do your hair.”
“Yours looks good,” Manda said. “I like it piled on top of your head like that.”
Cara tucked a flyaway strand of plain brown hair behind her ear. “I’d give anything for a head of hair like yours, so thick and shiny.” She expertly braided one thick plait, starting at the crown of Manda’s head. “And such a pretty gold color. Hand me that comb.” Cara stepped back and tilted her head, looking Manda over. “Perfect. You won’t be able to shake that loose no matter how much you dance.”
Manda held a silver-backed hand mirror behind her head and peered into the dresser’s looking glass. “I just hope there’s somebody to dance with.”
“Isn’t Gurney going?”
Manda put the mirror on the dresser. “I meant somebody different. Somebody exciting.”
“So Gurney Jasper’s not giving you a thrill?” Cara teased.
Manda opened the dresser drawer and took out a small pot of rouge. She tapped the powder with her forefinger, then rubbed the apples of her cheeks. “Gurney’s boring as yesterday’s news. He’s so predictable. Want some?” she asked, holding out the rouge.
“Predictable can be good.” Cara leaned in behind her, patted color with the tips of two fingers, and glanced at her own reflection. “Gracious, I look like a clown.”
“Let me.” Manda wiped half the color from Cara’s cheeks with a piece of cotton wool before she mixed a bit of rouge with petroleum jelly and applied it to Cara’s lips. “There, now you’ve got a touch of color.”
“How do you know how to do this?” Cara asked. “I can never get it right. So I usually don’t bother.”
“I read all of Miz Copper’s magazines. They have a wealth of knowledge.”
“You sound so worldly.”
Manda picked up the hand mirror and did her lips, then blotted them. “Don’t you ever long for something else? somewhere else? maybe even somebody else?”
“Manda!”
Manda turned on the dresser bench to face Cara. “Oh, don’t get exercised. I know you’re true to Dimmert. But don’t you ever get tired of the same old, same old?”
“Scoot,” Cara said, sliding onto the bench and sitting shoulder to shoulder with Manda. “The love of a good man is a gift from heaven. You should give Gurney a chance.”
“I want sparks. Shouldn’t there be sparks?”
Cara laughed. “Has Gurney stolen a kiss yet?”
Manda rolled her eyes. “Well, no, and he’d better not, either.”
“Then how do you know there won’t be sparks? He just might sur
prise you.” Cara twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I didn’t especially warm up to Dimm until that first kiss. His passion for me led to my passion for him.”
“You’re ruining your hair,” Manda said, smoothing a bit of pomade into Cara’s wispy locks. “Did you ever kiss anybody but Dimmert?”
“No.” Cara stood and smoothed her skirts. “And I’ve never wanted to.”
“So you think I should let Gurney kiss me tonight?” Manda asked with a last look in the mirror and a last pat to her hair.
“Kisses shouldn’t be planned for. You have to let them come naturally.”
“I don’t know about that. If Gurney had any get-up about him, I believe he would have already tried.”
Cara smiled and shook her head. “Manda, Manda. Be careful lest you get rain up your nose.”
Manda answered with more clogging steps. “Let’s go. I’d rather dance than eat fried chicken on Sunday.”
“Speaking of which,” Cara said, “don’t forget your box supper.”
* * *
The thump of dance music met them a mile away. Lilly clapped and snuggled closer to Manda. They were sitting on the back of the wagon with their legs dangling over the edge. Every time the wagon hit a bump, Lilly squealed.
Cara looked back at them from her place on the wagon’s bench between Dimmert and her little niece Merky. “You hold her tight, Manda.”
Manda gave Lilly a little shove. “I was thinking of flinging her out onto the roadside.”
