Spirit of the Valley
Page 19
But you did it, she imagined Lionel saying as he raised his glass to her.
I couldn’t have without you, she thought.
I’m delighted at the way it turned out. We showed them all, didn’t we?
She stood and stretched. “It still seems like a dream sometimes.”
But it’s not, he reminded her. The thought made her smile as she started back for the house, removing her work gloves as she went.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jeremy and Timmy Wayne walked together back to Jeremy’s two-room shack amidst the other cheaply constructed, wooden, tin-roofed shacks rented to miners and their families. Company-owned housing for miners was known as a patch and, in this patch, the rows of houses looked pretty much alike. Most had two bedrooms and a kitchen. In the backyard were privies, sheds, and clotheslines. Inside was as stark and plain as the outside. The floors were wooden, the walls unadorned. The kitchens had a small table with crudely made chairs or benches, a coal stove, and a cupboard. They were lit by oil lamps and there was no running water.
Jeremy’s house was on the outer row, the last row built. Most houses lined a dirt road and faced other homes, but his row faced outward, toward the mine. Their small backyards abutted other backyards. The separateness hadn’t bothered Jeremy, but, looking around, Timmy Wayne found it strange. “But at least,” the boy said, “you got it all to yourself. We sleep four to a bed.”
While Jeremy washed up and changed his clothes, Timmy Wayne hurried home to do the same. When he returned, a three-legged dog trailed behind. “Stay, Tripod,” Timmy commanded.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Jeremy commented.
“Ain’t my dog. He just likes me. It ain’t nobody’s dog, poor thing. Look how skinny it is.”
Which was true, although the light brown mutt had a sweet face. He’d wanted to find a dog for Jake, but this wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Still, the dog had obeyed Timmy’s command. Jeremy squatted and called to the dog and he came, although more reticent than exuberant.
“He’s kind of skittish,” Timmy Wayne said, bending down to pet the dog on the opposite side. “He’s had some rough treatment. You can tell.”
“Doesn’t belong to anybody, huh?”
“No. You should take him. He’s a good dog, ’cept he don’t never bark.”
That was two strikes against the mutt, except that Jeremy already felt a fondness for the pathetic pooch with the adorable face. Maybe it was the attachment of one stray to another, or maybe it was that he loathed the thought of anyone mistreating a helpless animal. He didn’t know how Tripod had lost the leg, but he’d been hurt by another dog. He could see scars from teeth on his muzzle and there was some bad scarring on his head and the back of his neck. “Who named him Tripod?”
“That’s just what I call him on account of him having three legs.”
Jeremy stood. “I know a little boy who might like him.”
Timmy Wayne stood, too. “It would be good for Tripod to have a home and regular food to eat. I ain’t been able to give him much.”
Jeremy nodded and then shrugged. “We’ll see if he’ll follow. Then we’ll just see.”
“Oh, he’ll follow.”
After dinner at Wiley’s, a meal that Timmy Wayne had proclaimed to be the best he’d ever “et,” Timmy went back home, while Jeremy started toward the livery for his horse. The dog seemed torn, but stayed with Jeremy when beckoned. Of course, he’d been fed plenty of scraps from the restaurant, probably the best meal the dog had ever “et.” Jeremy hoped Jake and Rebecca would take to him, because, one way or the other, he couldn’t very well turn his back on the creature now.
He passed the Blue farm, which glowed from lights within. The smoke curling from the chimney was a cozy sight that made Jeremy anxious to reach the cottage. At the sound of barking, he looked and saw the Blues’ dogs tearing toward them. Tripod heard too, and cowered. “Some watchdog,” Jeremy muttered. He stopped the horse, poised to get down if he needed to. However, the Blues’ dogs got close, and barked a stern warning but didn’t do more than that. “Come on,” Jeremy called to Tripod, who hopped along, glancing back nervously.
It wasn’t late when he reached the cottage, not even nine o’clock, but the house was quiet when he stepped in the back door. There was a glass of wine poured and the light of the fire caught in the glass. He walked down the hall, noticing Lizzie’s bedroom door was standing open. He cleared his throat before reaching it so he wouldn’t startle her, but when he stopped in the doorway, it was apparent she’d been expecting him. Dressed in her robe, she was sitting in bed with her knees drawn up and a book on her lap. Her hair was loose and a glass of wine was on the bedside table. In the glow of the firelight, the room looked mighty inviting. More than inviting, it looked like a haven. “Hello,” she said.
“It was so quiet, I didn’t know if you’d be sleeping.”
She shook her head. “Reading. Waiting for you.”
The words made him smile. “I’ll get cleaned up.”
“I poured you a glass of wine, if you want it.”
“I saw. Thanks. I’ll just set my stuff down,” he said before walking to his room and setting his bag down. “Um,” he said upon stopping back in her doorway. It didn’t look like she’d moved a muscle. “I found a dog. A stray.”
“Oh?”
“He’s not perfect, but the kids might like him. I guess we’ll see in the morning.” He thought about mentioning the three legs, but that could be left until tomorrow.
“All right.”
He drank the glass of wine in the kitchen, then filled a bowl of water for Tripod. The dog jumped up to see him, but looked wary. Jeremy petted his head. “It’ll be all right,” he said soothingly. He set the bowl down. “Go to sleep. You’ll meet everybody in the morning.”
Lizzie leaned forward and hugged her legs. It had been an enlightening evening, starting with an after-dinner discussion as the ladies cleaned and put away dinner dishes. Cessie had broached the subject of school and Lizzie knew right away that Rebecca had put her up to it.
Between Cessie’s gentle, prodding way and April May’s straightforward manner, they had got her to face the truth—that the only reason she hadn’t started Rebecca in school here was fear, and not a reasonable fear at that. To have Rebecca gone for much of the day and away from her protection was frightening.
“But, honey,” Cessie said, “she’ll be at the schoolhouse. It’s perfectly safe.”
“I planned on letting her start soon.”
“Well, that’s good,” April May said. “What about Monday?”
Lizzie concentrated on the platter she was drying. As ridiculous as it was, she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.
“Here’s what I think,” April May said as she pulled out a chair and sat. “When you know fear is stopping you from doing something that you should do or you really want to do, deep down, you just look the devil in the eye and you say, ‘I am not going to let this damn fear stop me.’”
Cessie nodded. “She’s right, although the curse words aren’t necessary. If you can just see that it’s nothing but worry—”
“And, Lordy, Lizzie,” April May interrupted. “Rebecca is tough as nails. I fear for anyone who gets in her way.”
Lizzie had laughed and turned to them. “Next week then,” she said. “I’ll get her started next week.”
The decision felt right. She’d privately acknowledged how much she’d allowed fear to imprison the woman she had been. Elizabeth Greenway Carter was not going to follow that same path. Whether it was proper or not, she was so, so glad that Jeremy was here. She wanted him in ways she hadn’t known were possible. She wanted his touch, his kiss, his concern, his counsel, and his passion. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him to hold her afterwards. She wanted their softly spoken conversations. She wanted to tell him about her day and she wanted to know about his.
No more fear, she thought as she settled back against the pillows.
Lizzie had gone back to reading, but she set her book aside as he slipped off the robe and got into bed. He turned on his side to face her and she scooted close. “How was dinner?”
Jeremy smiled. “Timmy liked it a lot. He’d never been to a restaurant.”
She cocked her head. “Never?”
“Never. People in the patch are poor. Really poor.”
“The patch?”
“The mining camp. Part of how people are paid is in script. Most people, anyway. That’s one thing I stood firm on. Only cash for pay.”
“What’s script?”
“It’s good for the company store or rent, only the rent is too high, especially for the places they live in, and the company charges twice what everything is worth at the store. Miners and their families have no choice about it, though, since that’s all script is good for.”
“Why don’t they all demand cash for pay, too?”
“Not everybody can. When I signed on, they needed miners. But the man I work with, Liam, is a laborer, like a helper. He helps load the coal I dig out. He didn’t have a choice.” He paused before adding, “Problem is, no one is paid enough, especially not men like Liam, so they have to buy on credit. Only place you can do that is the company store, which charges even more when it’s on credit.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “How old is Timmy?”
“Just turned fourteen.”
She sighed quietly and then reached over to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
The fire crackled in the hearth. “Rebecca’s going to start school next week.”
“That’s good. She’ll like that.”
“I know.”
He suddenly grew serious. “I want you to know something. I see your face all the time. When I’m in the dark and I’m working, my hands are doing what they do, but in my mind I see you, and it gets me through the day.”
Her eyes glistened. “I’ll be so glad when you’re done with that place.”
“Me too. Six weeks.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Why—”
“Liam’s due for a pension in six weeks. I gotta stick it out.”
She leaned in and kissed his lips. “You’re a good man,” she whispered when she pulled back.
He woke a few hours later. They’d made love with hunger and vigor and fallen asleep tangled up in each other’s arms. Now he had to relieve himself, so he got up. She moaned softly as he did, a good sound, and muttered something unintelligible. He got up and went outside to pass his water, and the dog woke and watched him with curiosity.
Going back inside, he opted to go to his room. As tired as he was, he might sleep until morning, and he didn’t want to put her in an awkward position if the children woke first. The bed felt cold to climb into and he had second thoughts, but he curled up, warmed up slowly, and drifted back into a deep sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jeremy woke again, confused at the bright light slanting in the window. It was later than he ever slept, which was disconcerting. By the time he opened his bedroom door, dressed and ready for the day, he smelled bacon. He walked into the kitchen and saw a covered plate, but no one was around. He stepped outside and saw Lizzie, Rebecca, and Jake playing with the dog. Lizzie flashed a bright smile, Rebecca laughed at the dog’s antics, and Jake noticed Jeremy. “He’s ours?” the boy called hopefully.
“He sure is. If you want him.”
“We do,” Jake exclaimed.
“Can we name him?” Rebecca asked, shielding her eyes from the morning glare.
“I already named him,” Jake announced. “Lucky.”
Lizzie beamed. “I think that’s an excellent name for him.”
Rebecca made a face. “No, it’s not. How lucky is it to have three legs?”
“He just found a family to love him, didn’t he?” Lizzie asked.
The dog looked at Jeremy—and Jeremy knew exactly what he was thinking. That the two of them had that in common.
Rebecca considered. “I guess.”
Lizzie started for the house. “I’ll make you some eggs,” she said to Jeremy. When she reached him, she glanced back at the children, who were involved with Lucky, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. “He’s perfect.”
Jeremy laughed softly that a three-legged dog could be thought perfect.
The kitchen smelled of gingerbread when Jeremy stepped back into the room in the late afternoon, having just cleaned up after a day spent clearing a space for a barn. He’d gone into town to price out lumber and assistance in building the structure, and a plan was now in place. Since he would be here full-time in the winter, he would need the barn. It was a wonderful thought. A cold rain had blown up, which shut down work for the day, but that was fine with him.
Lizzie’s back was to him as she coated chicken and put it into a skillet to fry, which added a rich and spicy aroma to the air. Rebecca was setting the table as rain began to beat down on the roof. “It smells good in here,” he commented. “Can I help?”
“No,” Lizzie replied without turning around. “But thank you anyway.”
“Rebecca?” he asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Which ones did you do?” Jeremy asked, nodding at the plates of gingerbread men.
Rebecca walked over and pointed them out. “That one, that one, and that one. Jake did that one.” She looked up and gave him a wry look. “He wanted to know if we could make a gingerbread dog next time.”
Jeremy grinned. “Good question. Do we actually get to eat those cookies? They look too pretty to eat.”
Rebecca turned and leaned against the table. “We eat them.”
“But not till after dinner,” Lizzie added.
The chicken was sizzling, and the aroma made his mouth water. “Do you know how to play checkers, Rebecca?”
“Yes, but we don’t have a checkers game.”
“We should get one.”
She mulled it over a moment. “That would be good.”
“That’s what we’ll do, then.”
She looked at him questioningly and then turned to her mother. “Can I go play now?”
“Yes, you may.”
Jeremy watched Rebecca exit the room, then crossed to Lizzie. Placing his hands on her hips, he leaned around and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “I think I’m making progress there,” he said quietly.
She smiled and nodded. “You are.”
More than anything, he wanted to express his joy in the simple moment. He wanted to say he was exactly where he wanted to be. Then, as if she understood his thoughts, she looked at him, pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and her expression was so tender his eyes misted over. He let go of her and walked away quickly, wrinkling his nose. He sniffed discreetly as he poured them each a glass of wine. He walked back and handed her the glass, then watched as she sipped, set the glass down, and turned the chicken in the pan. “Lizzie?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t say it enough, but you’re the best thing in my life. You, the kids, this place.”
She turned to him, smiling warmly. “We’ve made it a nice home, haven’t we?”
“You’ve made it a really nice home.”
She drew breath to say something, but Jake beckoned from the other room. “Jeremy, you’ve gotta see this! Lucky learned a trick.”
Jeremy grinned as he set his glass aside. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’ve got to go see a trick now.”
“Go.” She laughed. “By all means, g
o.”
Chapter Thirty
Cynthia Perkins stepped off the train in Green Valley, Virginia, and followed other passengers toward town. She was content to walk at a leisurely pace through the picturesque streets festooned in late-autumn splendor. Neat clapboard homes had well-used porches and whitewashed picket fences with ornate gates. She could certainly understand choosing to live here—but how and why had Pauline chosen it, if indeed she had?
She’d had success following Pauline Ray’s trail, starting with a station attendant at the depot in Indianapolis who’d reported that Pauline and the children had gone southward. “Into Kentucky. Maybe Tennessee,” he’d pondered thoughtfully. “I want to say Louisville.”
She thanked him and followed the lead. There had been more dead ends than hits, but she’d eventually picked up the trail and followed it well into Virginia, where it went cold until she sent queries to local newspapers and telegraph offices, along with Pauline’s photograph.
The effort paid off when a salesman by the name of Lester Shoemaker recognized Pauline from having ridden with her and the children, although they’d continued beyond his destination. Pauline, however, had shared she was going to Green Valley because of an elderly relative who was ill. Ethan Ray had claimed she had no family, but perhaps Pauline hadn’t told him everything. Or perhaps she’d told Shoemaker a falsehood. No matter. If Pauline and the children were not here in Green Valley, she would continue on to as many towns as she possibly could for the short time left in her contract with Ethan Ray. She didn’t care one bit about the man; he was an ill-tempered, small-minded bully, but she had a record of success to consider, not to mention the reputation of the agency.