Guide Me Home

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Guide Me Home Page 31

by Kim Vogel Sawyer


  “Gonna hafta tell me what that means.”

  “You’re beautiful, Cissy. Truly beautiful.”

  Cissy beamed and rotated her hips, making the skirt sway. “Thank you, Bek. I’ve been waitin’ for you. To show you my new dress. An’ to see if you could pin up my hair—make it look like a real lady’s hairstyle.”

  Rebekah gave a leap onto the stoop and unlocked her door. “I’d be glad to, although if you’re going to pass for a lady, you’ll need shoes.”

  Cissy made a face, but she laughed as she followed Rebekah into the cabin. “They didn’t have shoes at Hunt’s store. Didn’t have very many dresses, either, but Mr. Temperance picked this one out. Said it was the most”—she wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, then held up her finger and grinned—“sophisticated one there. That means grown up.”

  Rebekah paused in clinking the tip money into the can on her bureau. “Did Mr. Temperance buy that for you?”

  “Uh-huh. I paid some of it. I had sixty-six cents.” She crinkled her nose again, giggling. “Half o’ that was s’posed to go to Daddy, but I’ll make more tomorrow an’ pay him back. Folks line up from here to Lexington to get their photographs made. Good thing, too, ’cause I gotta take money out o’ what I’ve set aside at home an’ give it to Mr. Temperance. I owe him a dollar fifty-nine.”

  Rebekah gaped at Cissy. “Your dress cost a dollar fifty-nine?”

  “Nope. Two twenty-five.” She simpered and fiddled with the end of her braid. “But it’s almost as nice as the ones those Ross twins—Daphne an’ Delphinia—wear every day. I’m tellin’ you, Bek, it’s worth every penny.” Smiling, she smoothed her hands on the skirt.

  Rebekah shook her head. “I hope so. That’s a lot of money.”

  “I know, but when Nick sees me in this, he’s bound to—” Cissy sashayed to the table, then plopped down on one of the chairs. “You gonna pin up my hair or not?”

  Her sister’s tone changed so quickly Rebekah wondered if she’d suddenly transformed into Mrs. Marrett. “Y-yes, sure, Cissy. Let me get my brush and pins.” She gathered the items from her drawer and crossed to the table.

  Cissy fingered the edge of Devlin’s map, giving it a serious perusal. “What is this?”

  “Devlin’s map. Don’t touch it.”

  Cissy pulled her hand back but didn’t shift her gaze even when Rebekah began unraveling her braids. “How come he keeps it here?”

  “This is where he works on it.”

  Cissy jerked her face toward Rebekah. “In your cabin?”

  She nodded. “Turn around and hold still.” She didn’t add “be quiet,” but Cissy must have decided Rebekah needed silence to focus on her hair, because she didn’t say another word until Rebekah had finished brushing her long hair and pinning it into a fat bun. She pulled a few tendrils loose to soften the stark style, then led Cissy to the small mirror hanging on the wall.

  “Is that more grown up?”

  Cissy coiled the tendril dangling from her temple around her finger and smiled smugly at the mirror. “It’s sophisticated. Thank you, Bek.” She spun and wrapped Rebekah in a hug.

  Stunned, Rebekah lost her breath for a moment. She couldn’t recall the last time Cissy had hugged her. Certainly not since she turned thirteen and moody. She curled her arms around her sister’s slender form, but before she could complete the embrace, Cissy pulled loose and pranced away.

  “Can I borrow your shoes? I wanna show Nick my new dress, but I don’t reckon I oughta go barefooted. Barefoot ain’t very ladylike.”

  Rebekah shrugged. “As long as I get them back for Sunday so I can wear them to church.” She pulled her brown high-top shoes from under her bed and handed them to her sister. “They aren’t new, but they’ll cover your feet. Do you want some stockings, too?”

  Cissy sat down on the end of the bed and pulled on the shoes. “With my dress hanging down so far, nobody’ll know I ain’t wearin’ ’em. Besides, gets too hot with all the layers. This is good enough.” She laced them, stood, and took a few experimental steps. “A little too big for me, but I like the heels. My shoes don’t got heels. I’m a lot taller now.” She straightened and struck a pose. “Do I look older?”

  Rebekah nodded. “Fifteen and a half for sure.”

  Cissy huffed. “I am fifteen an’ a half.”

  Rebekah laughed. “I know. But you look every bit of it—a proper, pretty young lady.”

  Cissy’s smile lit up the room. “Thanks, Bek. I’ll bring you your shoes before I go home. Then I can let you know what Nick thought of my new dress an’ hairstyle, all right?”

  “All right.” Rebekah stood on the stoop and watched Cissy depart. Her sister moved in a confident stride, swinging her arms and holding her head at a proud angle. She hoped Nick had the sense to appreciate what he saw. Cissy truly was turning into a lovely young lady.

  Cissy

  Cissy ambled the length of the boardwalk from cottage one to cottage twenty and back again, hands linked behind her back, chin held high, picking up her feet so the heels didn’t drag and make an awful sound.

  Nick had told her his family dined at six thirty each evening. The clock hanging on the lobby wall showed six twenty-two, and her peek into the dining room earned a smile and wink from the host, but the Rosses weren’t in there. So she started strolling up and down, up and down, waiting for them to come out. If his eyes didn’t pop out of his head when he saw her, she’d go off and leave him alone forever, but she wanted him to see—really see—what he was losing.

  The door to cottage eighteen opened, and Real and Reflection came out. Tonight they wore matching gowns the same color as mint leaves and their white kid boots with the heels that reminded Cissy of a lady’s corseted waist. Cissy sat on the bench between cottages eight and nine and tucked her scuffed, too-big, brown lace-up shoes under her skirt. She angled her face so she could watch them out of the corner of her eye, her pulse pounding.

  They gave her a look-over, but they didn’t make snooty faces. As they passed the bench, they chorused, “Good evening, miss.”

  Cissy smiled and nodded, keeping her face turned aside in case they recognized her. But they reached the corner, turned, and kept going, chatting with each other. They never once looked back.

  Cissy swallowed a chortle. Supersilly girls…

  Door latches clicked, and she jolted. Two couples probably as old as Mama and Daddy stepped onto the boardwalk from cottage seventeen and cottage nineteen at the same time. She stayed in her spot and pretended to examine her fingernails while the grownups greeted each other and then paraded by, the women holding the men’s arms and the men tapping the planked boards with canes. The men tipped their hats to her, and Cissy gave them the same smile and nod she’d given Real and Reflection. They went on by just as the twins had.

  Her heart pounded hard. Nick should come next. Her mouth felt dry, so she licked her lips. Then she rubbed them so they wouldn’t look wet when he saw her. She bounced her foot, realized she was doing it, and stopped. Stood up. Sat down. Stood up again and grabbed the porch post with both hands to keep herself from wiggling.

  Finally the door on cottage twenty opened. Two boys, maybe Jessie’s age, raced up the boardwalk and around the corner, both of them whooping like Indians on the warpath. Nick came out behind them, shaking his head and muttering. He closed the door and turned, and his gaze fell on her. A smile curved his lips.

  He headed straight toward her, his steps eager. “Hello there.”

  She released the post and moved into his pathway. “Hello, Nick.”

  He stopped so quickly it looked as if he’d run into a post. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide.

  She giggled. “Yep. It’s me. Cissy.”

  He took a clumsy step backward and looked her up and down the way Real and Reflection had. “You look…”

  She rocked in place, making her skirt sway. “Sophisticated?”

  He huffed. “Different, that’s for sure.” He slid his
hands into his trouser pockets and settled his weight on one leg. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was watchin’ for you. Haven’t seen you all week.” She didn’t mean to, but her voice went hard. “Thought maybe you was sick…or somethin’.” She fibbed. She’d seen him playing catch with nets one time and another time coming out of the trees with a fishing pole on his shoulder. But if she acted like she was worried instead of mad, it would probably be better.

  “I haven’t been sick. Just busy.”

  “Oh.” She tipped her head and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Well, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ tomorrow after I’m done helpin’ Mr. Temperance. I know you like to fish. Maybe we can—”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have time to go fishing with you tomorrow.”

  “How ’bout Saturday, then?” She smiled and pinched her skirt, lifted it a little bit, and let it drop. “I’ll wear my new dress. You thought it was purty. I could tell.”

  He sighed. “Listen, Cissy, you’re very cute, and we had some fun, but there are a lot of girls here at the hotel. I’d like to spend time with some of them, too. I’m not ready to get stuck on one.”

  Mad swelled up inside of her, and she couldn’t hold it down. “But you said I was your best girl. You wrote on the wall that you loved me. An’ you kissed me, Nick.” She touched her lips, remembering. Worry chased away the mad. “Is it ’cause I don’t kiss good enough? I can do better. Let me show you.” She puckered her lips and leaned in.

  He eased past her, turning sideways to do it. She turned, too, keeping him in her view. “Let’s just say you’ve shown me everything I want to see, and now it’s time to…move on.”

  She stamped Rebekah’s shoe against the boardwalk and clenched her fists. “I ain’t showed you nothin’ yet. But I can, more’n any other girl at this hotel can.”

  A smirk grew on his face. “You can? Like what?”

  She searched her mind for something that would get his attention. “You like Mammoth Cave, don’tcha? Well, I can take you far into the cave—farther than any o’ the tours go. All the way to the end where jewels grow on the walls an’ gold rains from the ceilin’.”

  He shook his head. “Nobody’s ever said anything about jewels in the cave.”

  “That’s ’cause they don’t want the guests to know about it. That’s why they don’t take you all the way in. But I ain’t a guest. I’ve lived by Mammoth Cave my whole life. So I know.”

  He waved his hand at her and turned away. “You’re making this up.”

  “Am not. An’ I can prove it.”

  “How?”

  She grabbed his hand. “I’ll show you.”

  Devlin

  After a hot bath and a good dinner, Devlin’s weary body begged for rest. If he slept, he could keep his eyes closed. He welcomed the evening sunlight after his long days with nothing but torches, lanterns, or campfires holding back the thick darkness of the cave, but his eyes seemed unwilling to adapt. By the end of the summer would he be like those sightless fish in the cave stream, unable to see at all?

  He pushed the ridiculous thought aside and organized the notes he’d taken during the past week. The lower level had proved the most fascinating thus far. Centuries of dripping water created cities of stalactites and stalagmites. Waterfalls formed layers of lace-like patterns on walls. The tunnels held more twists and sharp turns, one a curving figure eight that crossed and met again. A fascinating area. And complicated to capture on paper.

  His fingers itched to get started. He glanced at his pocket watch. Almost eight thirty. Was it too late to work? He shrugged. Rebekah was honest enough to tell him if she thought it too late to let him make use of her table. But he wouldn’t know unless he asked. He slid his notebook into his satchel, tossed it over his shoulder, and set out.

  Evenings at the Mammoth Cave estate seemed lazy compared to the bustle of daytime and the host of activities available to the guests. As twilight fell, adults—some with babies or toddlers drowsing on their shoulders—lined the railing on the observation deck to watch night creep across the sky. Children chased fireflies on the lawn. Young people gathered in little groups or split into couples to talk softly, laugh, and hold hands while surreptitiously watching the adults. The scene was calm, quiet, relaxed.

  Devlin moved through the center of it all, his satchel flapping softly against his hip. The pinpoints of light from fireflies reminded him of the spark from Tolly’s flint, and he found himself automatically blinking at each little flash. He chuckled at himself and battled a temptation to try his hand at capturing one of the flickering insects, something he hadn’t done in years. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He had work to do. Determinedly, he aimed his gaze ahead and lengthened his stride.

  The lamp burned on the table in Reb’s cabin, and her door stood open, throwing a soft path of yellow over the stoop. Tolly and Lee sat on Tolly’s stoop, and Reb stood nearby, probably catching up with one another after their days apart.

  He raised his arm and waved. “Hello. May I join you?”

  Without a moment’s pause Tolly answered. “Come on ovuh, Devlin. We was just talkin’ ’bout you.”

  He trotted to their little circle, keeping his smile intact even though Reb folded her arms over her ribs and turned aside. “I hope you weren’t tattling about how I lost your oar.”

  Tolly laughed, the sound boisterous. “Yep, I was, but not fo’ the sake o’ tattlin’. Fo’ tellin’ her how the lost oar led me to my stole canteen.” He shook his head. “Still puzzles me how that thing got tucked clear down there. Somebody’s almighty comf’table in that big ol’ cave.”

  Lee nodded, his dark eyes wide. “Gots ou’selves a myst’ry in there, that’s fo’ sure.”

  Tolly slapped his thighs and rose. “An’ we gots ou’selves a tired guide sittin’ right here. I tol’ Marshel that me an’ Lee’d take his tours into the cave tomorruh so him an’ his helpuh can spend the day wit’ their fam’lies. So I’s gonna turn in. You young folks enjoy yo’ evenin’.” He ambled stiff legged into his cabin and closed the door behind him.

  Lee rose and sighed. “Guess I’ll go see if the fellas’ve got a card game goin’. I’d ask you to come, Reb, but gamblin’ ain’t fittin’ fo’ a lady. Even when we only gamble matches.”

  Devlin’s chest went warm. Being a girl, Reb could have been ignored or, worse, ridiculed by the male guides. But instead they accepted her, looked out for her, treated her with dignity and respect. Until he’d come to this hollow, he’d thought only refined men knew how to treat women well. He’d discovered a different kind of gentleman in these hills. Lowly in some ways, perhaps even backward by some people’s standards, but loutish? Not at all. He liked these people.

  The realization delivered a pang of remorse. It would hurt him to see them lose their property when the Mammoth Cave estate became a government-owned park. But a sacrifice by a few was sometimes necessary for the good of many. To his aggravation the reminder didn’t help.

  He patted his satchel and aimed his smile at Reb. “I thought if it wasn’t too late, I’d try to get a few notes transferred to the map. But if you’d rather I waited until morning, I understand.”

  She shrugged and moved in the direction of her cabin. “It’s all right. I won’t turn in until Cissy comes back.” A funny little grin, holding both fondness and envy, teased the corners of her mouth. “She went to find her friend Nick more than two hours ago, and she hasn’t returned. Apparently he approved her appearance in her new dress. It shouldn’t be much longer, though. She’s supposed to be home by dark, and she promised to bring my shoes to me before she left for home.”

  Devlin, following her, glanced at the sky. Only a few stars had made their presence known, but the moon carved a thick, bold wedge of white in the pale-gray sky. Darkness would descend soon. “She’d better hurry.”

  Reb nodded. “But you can work while I wait. Go on in.” She perched on her stoop and rested her chin in her hands, gazing outward.


  He stepped past her and entered the cabin. He opened his satchel and spilled the notebook onto the table. Then he reached to unroll his map. His hand stilled midreach. Where was it? His box of tools and the smaller map roughly marking the site of nearby caves waited on the table, as always, but the large, detailed map of Mammoth Cave was gone. He looked under the table, on each of the chairs, even under Reb’s bed. Still no map.

  Worry quickly magnified to irritation. She’d made clear how she felt about his second reason for being at the estate. Had she hidden the map out of spite? He stomped to the door and barked her name.

  She gave a start. “What’s wrong?”

  He stared hard at her, searching for signs of duplicity. Only puzzlement showed on her face. His shoulders sagged. Did he really expect her to behave underhandedly? She’d always been honest with him even when he’d wished she wouldn’t be. The gentility—the honor—he’d seen in her parents also resided in her.

  He hung his head for a moment, ashamed of where his thoughts had taken him. “My map is gone.”

  She frowned. “It can’t be. It was there earlier.” She charged into the cabin, straight to the table. She stared for several silent seconds at the empty spot on the table and then turned a slow circle, her gaze sweeping the room. “I don’t understand…It was right there”—she jerked her palm toward the table—“when I twisted Cissy’s hair into a bun. She wanted to look at it, but I wouldn’t let her. It was there when I left for dinner.”

  “Did you see it when you came back?”

  “Tolly and Lee were outside talking, and they called me over, so I didn’t come in. I didn’t even look in.” She shook her head. “It’s got to be here somewhere.”

  Devlin stood to the side and waited while she searched the cabin, kneeling to peek under every piece of furniture, shifting items in corners to peer behind. Finally she threw her arms wide and shrugged. “I don’t understand. It has simply…vanished.”

  “Did you lock your cabin when you went to dinner?”

  She shrugged. “No. I wanted Cissy to be able to get in even if I wasn’t here.”

 

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