by Irene Brand
Bobby chortled and held out his arms to Granny. She lifted him from the high chair and hugged him. “Besides, I’m gettin’ right fond of this little tyke. I’d hate to see you take him away so soon.”
As she watched Bobby settle contentedly on Granny’s lap, Julia’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can’t understand it. For a month I’ve been trying to get close to Bobby, but he’s fretful with me most of the time. He’s content with Mother and Dad, just as he is with you. What am I doing wrong?”
Granny’s faded brown eyes were compassionate as she patted Julia’s arm. “I suspect you’re tryin’ too hard. You’re afraid you’re gonna make a mistake. The boy senses that, and it makes him fearful too.”
“Then I need to take him home to Mother and Dad. So whenever it’s convenient for you to take me, David, we can start.”
“I can take you today if you want to go, but I agree with Granny. You ought to take it easy for a few days. That is, unless your folks are expecting you home.”
Julia shook her head. “For all they know, the Waldens might have asked us to stay for a visit. They won’t worry unless they don’t hear from me for a week or two, but I dread the trip home. I’d just as soon get it over with.”
“At least stay until Monday. Granny will look after Bobby, and you can rest. Who knows, the Waldens might decide that they want to see the boy.”
Julia shuddered. “I won’t put Bobby or myself through another experience like we had last night. Even if he’s only two, Bobby must have sensed Mr. Walden’s hatred.”
Julia finished eating the food on her plate, then stood and walked to the window that overlooked the valley. Two sleeping hounds sprawled on the porch floor. A flock of sparrows flitted from the top of a maple tree, landed on the lawn, and searched for food. Sunshine sparkled in the small creek that wound its way from the mountainside. The solitude and tranquility of this place appealed to Julia. Perhaps she should accept the Armstrongs’ invitation.
Impulsively, she turned around to face Granny and David. “All right, then. If you’re sure we won’t be too much trouble, Bobby and I will stay through the weekend.” She grinned. “I feel as if I could sleep in that featherbed for a month.”
A dazzling smile spread across Granny’s wrinkled face, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure. “That’s just fine. I love company. I’ll take care of Bobby, and David can show you around Mistletoe.” She laughed. “Not that there’s much to see. And you can go to church with us tomorrow.”
“It’s good that you’re here to see our mountains in autumn.” David was obviously as pleased as his grandmother that she had agreed to prolong her visit. “Winters can be pretty rough, but from May through November, it’s hard to beat living in Owsley County.”
“I daresay you’re prejudiced,” Julia said, a touch of humor in her voice.
“Maybe, but I saw a big part of the world when I was in the army. I still say Kentucky is a good place to live.”
“I think Maryland is a good state too, but I’m willing to be persuaded about Kentucky’s good points,” Julia conceded.
“Then why don’t you take it easy this morning, and we’ll go hiking this afternoon.”
Julia sighed. “I can’t take it easy. I need to wash Bobby’s clothes. That’s something else I’m learning—a baby goes through a lot of clean clothes in a day’s time.”
“I figured you’d need to do some washin’,” Granny said. She motioned to a large boiler on the stove top. “I het up some water, so we’ll do the washin’ as soon as I feed the chickens and gather the eggs.”
“I’ll wash the breakfast dishes if you’d like,” Julia volunteered.
“That’d be a big help.” Granny emptied a teakettle of hot water into a large metal dishpan and set it on the side of the table. She handed Julia a bar of soap.
“Hit’s homemade.”
Julia lifted the soap to her nose. “Mmm! It smells good.”
Granny was obviously pleased. “It’s scented with dried rose hips.” She laid a large cloth on the table and poured another pan of water for rinsing. “Hit’s nice to have someone around to share the work. I miss my girls, who live over in the next county.”
“How many children do you have?”
“I have four livin’ young’uns. My oldest boy, Millard, lives up the road a ways with his family, and of course David’s here with me. But the rest of ’em moved away durin’ the war. They found life was easier outside of Owsley County, so they won’t come back to live. We also had four babies that we laid to rest over there in the graveyard.” She gestured toward the forest across the road. “My man died ten years ago.”
Julia was surprised that Granny spoke so casually about her children’s deaths, especially when, with a shake of her gray head, she added in a resigned voice, “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”
Being accustomed to cold and hot water from a faucet for laundry, dishwashing, and bathing, Julia’s movements were awkward as she washed the dishes in soapy water, transferred them to another pan for rinsing, and dried the heavy stoneware on a snow white feed sack. She’d finished her task by the time Granny returned.
“You done good,” Granny complimented. “We’ll do the washin’ out on the back porch. Gather up your dirty clothes and bring them to me.” She picked up Bobby. “I’ve got a pen in the backyard to keep him from being underfoot while we work. It’s a mite cool this mornin’, so he might need a sweater.”
During her years in the WAC, the Women’s Army Corps, Julia had sometimes poured water in a hubcap to wash her hands and face. She had washed her clothes in woodland streams. She had slept on army cots, on the floor, and even on the ground many times, so she had some experience in rough living. During those times, she hadn’t dreamed that the experiences would prepare her for a weekend in backwoods Kentucky.
Wringing water from the garments with her hands, Julia hung them to dry on the clothesline strung from a porch post to a gnarled maple tree in the backyard. She had lost some of her modesty during the war years, but it was discomfiting to hang her underwear in plain view of David, should he wander by. Still, she was grateful for this opportunity to have clean clothes for Bobby and herself on their return trip to Maryland.
After she and Granny finished the washing, Julia took Bobby from the pen and watched him as he played in the yard. She followed the boisterous boy as he examined the rocks and the flowers growing around the house. He tried to catch sunbeams filtering through the foliage of the oak trees that bordered the mountainside behind Granny’s well-kept yard.
She admired the clumps of mistletoe in the trees and marveled at the strange turn of events that had brought her—someone who’d been interested in the mistletoe plant since childhood—to an area by that name.
Julia’s longtime fascination with mistletoe had taught her some strange things. For instance, the legend that Jesus was crucified on a mistletoe tree, and as punishment for the Savior’s crucifixion, the plant was forbidden to ever again take root in the ground. Perhaps that was the main reason people in medieval times had deemed the plant bad luck. Other groups throughout history had considered mistletoe a good luck charm to be hung over doors to keep demons out of their houses, and enemies often signed peace treaties under mistletoe trees. Regardless of all the folklore, the plant had long been valued for its medicinal properties.
Julie was distracted from her thoughts when Bobby stopped before her with two roses in his hand. “Here.” He thrust the pink flowers toward her. She probably should have scolded him for picking the blooms, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and his sweet gesture touched her. Besides, she was sure that Granny wouldn’t miss a few flowers.
“Thank you, Bobby.” She smiled. “It’s been a long time since a gentleman has given me flowers.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” a masculine voice said behind her.
Julia whirled and saw David approaching. She sensed a rare blush creeping into her cheeks. He stooped and pulled Bobby into his a
rms and tossed the boy into the air. Bobby turned frightened blue eyes on Julia, but when David caught him and swung him upward again, the boy laughed gleefully.
When David put him on the ground, Bobby cried, “’Nutter time! ’Nutter time!”
Laughing, David lifted Bobby again and again while Julia watched with pleasure. David wore a denim shirt and dust-stained overalls. He was bareheaded, and his dark hair was damp with sweat.
In spite of Bobby’s continued protests, David put him on the ground. “That’s enough for now.”
Bobby must have sensed the finality in David’s voice, for he trotted off after a robin that stood with head bent sideways, apparently listening for a worm.
“What’ve you been up to this morning?” David asked Julia as they followed the energetic boy.
“Granny and I have been washing clothes.”
“I’ve been working too. I sowed turnip seed and crawled on my knees to pull weeds from the strawberry patch.”
“Isn’t there an easier way to do that?”
“Not that I know of.” David smiled. “But if you think of a way, let me know.”
Bobby was wandering toward the woods, and Julia called to him to stop.
Bobby kept running. “Why?”
“Because that bank is too steep for you to climb!” she called. Bobby continued on his way, paying no heed to her words. She hurried to stop him before he took a tumble.
“Strawberries are a good cash crop,” David explained when he’d caught up to her, “but they take a lot of work. I sell most of them in Booneville, but if the yield is big, I’ve even shipped them to Lexington and Louisville.” He picked Bobby up. “Let’s see what Granny fixed for dinner.”
Bobby squirmed, trying to get out of David’s firm grasp.
“Do you take all of your meals with her?”
“I eat dinner and supper here most of the time. Granny is used to a big family, and she doesn’t like to eat alone. If I didn’t eat with her, she would never fix a full meal for herself. I buy most of what we need from the store to pay my way.”
Although she hadn’t known him long, Julia was convinced that David was a caring, thoughtful man, and she wondered why he hadn’t married. She herself had fixed ideas about what she wanted in a husband. It seemed rather ironic that, when she’d seen so much of the world and its people, she would find a man in this backwoods community who met most of her lofty standards.
Realizing that David was gazing intently at her, as if waiting for an answer, she stammered, “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Do you want to take a walk this afternoon?”
“I’d like that,” she said, “but we can’t go too far with Bobby.”
“Granny will keep him. If not, I’ll carry him.”
Julia smiled. “In that case, I’d love to go.”
The possibility of having a few hours’ respite from her nephew’s care appealed to her. As she entered the house, glancing sideways at David’s handsome countenance, she relished the idea of this opportunity to learn more about him.
Chapter Five
The more David saw of Julia the more she impressed him, but he sensed that she carefully guarded certain aspects of her life. For one, why was she hesitant to comment on her war experiences? There was much classified wartime work that had to remain secret, and that could be why Julia was evasive. He should be the first to understand that it wasn’t any of his business what Julia had done in the past. There were corners of his life he wouldn’t discuss either.
People in Mistletoe didn’t take kindly to strangers asking personal questions, so he wasn’t going to be inquisitive, but that didn’t keep him from wondering. Perhaps when he knew her better, she wouldn’t seem so mysterious. His sleep had been restless, and every time he’d awakened, Julia was in his thoughts.
For more than five years David had avoided women, and it annoyed him that Julia had captivated his mind so quickly. He had enough to trouble his conscience without being tempted to break a vow he’d taken in all sincerity. Before he’d left his home this morning, he’d taken a picture of his “dream woman” from his billfold and looked at it for several minutes. During the war this picture had served as a reminder of what might have been, but it hadn’t filled the emptiness in his heart.
While they waited for Granny to put the food on the table, David saw Julia glance down at her skirt. It was the same one she’d worn yesterday.
“Is it all right if I change into pants?” she asked. “I noticed that the women in Booneville wore dresses as Granny does. I don’t want to do anything to offend her.”
“It’s okay. We’ll be walking over some rough places, and pants are more practical. I saw servicewomen wearing them, so I’m used to it. But generally speaking, almost all women around here wear dresses to church and when they go to town.”
“Then I’ll wear pants for hiking and a dress the rest of the time.”
After dinner Julia went into the bedroom and soon returned dressed in sturdy brown shoes, a pair of khaki pants, and a green plaid long-sleeved shirt. A black hat was perched on her auburn hair. David handed her a walking stick he had made from a small twisted tree.
“Most of my walking has been on level ground,” she said, “so this will come in handy when I’m climbing the mountain.”
Carrying Bobby on her hip, Granny followed them to the door. “Have a good time!”
“Bobby go?” he begged.
“Not this time,” David said. “You stay with Granny while I show your aunt around Mistletoe.”
Julia kissed Bobby’s cheek. “Be a good boy for Granny.”
Bobby waved. “Good boy. Bye-bye.”
Julia followed David as he plunged down the steep bank into the hollow behind Granny’s house. When he reached a narrow dirt road, he stopped and waited for her. A small creek ran beside the road, its clear water bubbling over a colorful, rocky bed.
“We’ll stop at my house first, then climb the mountain, come down on the other side, and circle back to Granny’s house. That’ll probably be enough walking for today.” Observing how she matched his stride, David knew that Julia wasn’t any stranger to walking.
“The other side of this creek is the border of our land,” he continued. “My ancestors came to Kentucky from Virginia before the Civil War and settled along the right-hand fork of Buffalo Creek. Some of the family kept moving westward, but my great-grandfather liked this country, so we’re still here.”
“You mentioned that you did a lot of traveling during the war. Didn’t you see any other place where you would like to live?”
“Oh, I saw a lot of pretty country, but I never considered not coming home to Kentucky. Our mountain region isn’t prosperous, and if I’d wanted to get rich, I’d have gone someplace else. The way I see it, though, it’s like rats leaving a sinking ship. If all of the young people leave, it’s going to make it harder for the ones who have to stay.” He darted a look at Julia, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I suppose you think I’m stupid.”
She shook her head. “No, not at all. I admire you for your concern.”
David felt his face flushing, but just then they rounded a bend and had a view of his house. “That’s where I live.”
A fan-shaped clearing at the base of the mountain was the site of a large log dwelling. Situated in front of a grove of maple and beech trees, the house had two dormer windows. A porch, facing the valley, was built along the front.
“Why, David, it’s beautiful! When did you build it?”
David was proud of his home, and Julia’s praise pleased him. “Right after I came home from the army. There was an old cabin on that spot, but I tore it down to make room for this one. I cut the logs off of our property. An older neighbor knew how to build a log house, and he helped me.”
Walking slowly, they approached the house. When they reached the front porch, David said, “Come in and look around.”
David had designed the floor plan to be similar to Gran
ny’s, with a combination kitchen and living room along the front and two bedrooms behind them. “I have an unfinished extension behind these rooms, where I eventually intend to install a bathroom,” David explained. “There’s a good spring on the mountainside, and I’ll pipe water into the house by gravity. Someday, I’ll have two rooms upstairs.”
Julia walked through the house and seemed impressed by what she saw. “You’re a good housekeeper.”
“I can’t take much credit for that. My cousin, Nellie, comes in once a week and straightens up everything. She was here yesterday.”
They stepped out onto the porch again, and Julia pointed to another dwelling almost hidden in a clump of evergreen trees on the other side of the creek. “You’ve got a close neighbor.”
“Well, yes and no. A lawyer from Louisville bought that property about twelve years ago for a summer residence. He built the house then. He drilled a well and bought a gas generator, so the house has electric lights and running water, complete with a bathroom. After his wife died, he stopped coming. He’s leased it a few times, but it’s vacant this summer. He wants to sell the property, but the price is too high. If people have that kind of money, they don’t want to live in Mistletoe.”
“Why didn’t you buy it instead of building?”
“I’d have liked to, but I couldn’t afford it. Granny gave me the land for my cabin, and I’m building as I have the money.”
David led her out of his house. He wasn’t sure why her admiration of his cabin had so pleased him, but now he was eager to show her the best scenery in the hollow.
After they passed several patches of cultivated land, they climbed steadily for half an hour or more, and Julia found it difficult to breathe. David walked in front of her, and he turned his head frequently to check on her progress. “If you can hold on a little while longer, we’ll stop and rest.”
