by Irene Brand
When they were within a few miles of Booneville, David asked, “What do you want to do first?”
His voice must have disturbed Bobby, because the boy stirred and muttered. Julia patted his back comfortingly, and he didn’t awaken.
“I guess the first thing is to find out when a bus leaves for Lexington. After that I’ll call my parents to give them an idea of what day we’ll get home.”
“The station terminal is only open when buses are arriving or leaving, but you can make a call from Alex’s gasoline station.”
“I want to tell Alex good-bye anyway. He was very helpful when I arrived in Booneville.” Awkwardly she cleared her throat. “It seems as if I’ve been here forever rather than three days.”
David didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. Anguish seared his mind, and loneliness filled his heart. Julia was leaving, and he might never see her again.
She sighed deeply. “David, it isn’t easy for me to leave, but be honest with me. Can you imagine me living in Mistletoe?”
David hesitated, not knowing how to answer. Could he tell her that he’d been awake most of the night remembering the hours they’d spent together? She had seemed to adjust readily to their habits, and he had envisioned her staying in Mistletoe and becoming a part of the community. At that point, however, thoughts of the past surfaced, and he knew it was better for both of them if she did leave. He had no future with Julia Mayfield, and his heart might as well accept it. He answered hesitantly, “That’s for you to decide.”
He took his eyes from the road long enough to glance at Julia. She was staring straight ahead, her jaw clenched, her eyes slightly narrowed. He tried to look at Mistletoe through her eyes, and he had to admit that a stranger could be daunted by the neighborhood. He couldn’t imagine finding personal happiness in a city, so how could he expect Julia to accept this backwoods region?
“I’ve felt more at peace here than any other place I’ve been,” Julia admitted slowly, and a small smile touched her lips. “I was worn out mentally and physically when I arrived. It was relaxing to enjoy a slower pace of life for a few days. Granny’s serenity and strength soothed my fears and frustration about Bobby, but I have plans for my life that can’t be realized in this environment.” In a husky voice, she added, “That doesn’t mean I’ll never return to Mistletoe.”
“I should hope not,” he said, and somehow his heart seemed a little lighter. “I’ve been thinking that I might take a trip to Maryland some day.”
Julia’s eyebrows arched mischievously, and the secretive smile that touched her lips sent his pulse racing.
“Without being invited?” Her smile took the sting out of the words.
“I hoped I’d find the welcome mat waiting for me.”
She placed her hand on his forearm. “You would, David.”
His arm tingled where she touched him, and he took his right hand from the steering wheel and caressed her fingers. Since Julia had acknowledged that she would stay in touch, he felt better about her leaving. “I learned to be a good letter writer while I was in the army.”
“Then I’ll leave my address with you.”
David parked beside the gas station and lifted a still-yawning Bobby into his arms while Julia stepped out on the uneven sidewalk.
“Leave your suitcases in the car until we see what you can do.”
When they walked into the station, Alex was leaning over the engine of an auto, much as he had been when Julia had first seen him. She sneaked a grin toward David, wondering how much time Alex spent with his head under the hood of a car.
“Hi,” Bobby shouted, wide awake now and squirming in David’s arms.
Straightening, Alex said, “Well, sake’s alive, if it ain’t Bobby and his pretty aunt. Howdy, miss,” he shouted, adding, “You too, David. What can I do for you?”
“When does the next bus leave for Lexington?” Julia asked.
“Tomorrow at ten o’clock.”
“Oh.” Julia felt as deflated as a flat tire. “I’d hoped we could leave today.”
“Sorry, ma’am. Today’s bus left an hour ago.”
With a resigned look toward David, she said, “Then may I use your phone? I need to make a collect call to my parents in Maryland.”
Alex pointed to a little cubbyhole that passed for his office. “In there on the wall. Dial the operator to call long distance.”
“I’ll take care of Bobby,” David said.
Papers were piled in wild abandon in the room Alex indicated. Even the chairs were covered with spare automobile parts and boxes, but that didn’t bother Julia. Weary from the bumpy automobile ride, she didn’t want to sit down. After she dialed, she waited at least ten minutes before she heard her mother’s voice.
“Hello, Mother. This is Julia checking in.”
“Oh, thank God you called,” Rhoda Mayfield shouted wildly, and Julia gasped. What had caused her mother to be so distraught? She felt momentary panic, and a wave of apprehension swept through her.
“Is Dad all right?”
“Oh, yes, yes. We’re both fine, but Grandmother Mayfield fell yesterday and broke her right hip. The first time in years that she’s visited her sister in Noel, Missouri, and this had to happen! She’ll be in the hospital two weeks or more, and I don’t know how long it will be before we can bring her home. Your dad and I are leaving for Missouri this afternoon to take care of her. I was afraid we’d be gone before we heard from you and our grandbaby. It seemed as if you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
“Calm down, Mother. Both of us are all right. We’re starting home tomorrow.”
“We have a short time before we catch the train, so tell me about your trip. How’s Bobby? What did the Waldens think of him?”
Julia decided that this wasn’t the time to burden her mother with the way she’d been greeted by Bobby’s grandparents, but she had to tell her something. “They refused to see him.”
Rhoda gasped. “I’ve never heard the like. Why wouldn’t they see the child?”
“After they received the news of Robert’s death, the Waldens went into seclusion. They seldom leave the house, refuse to believe that their son is dead, and turn visitors away. Apparently, Robert hadn’t told them he was married. None of the neighbors knew about it.”
“Then where have you stayed?” her mother persisted. “Have you been in a hotel?”
Julia smiled to herself, imaging her mother’s horror if she knew that there wasn’t a hotel or any modern conveniences in Mistletoe. “No. We spent the weekend with a very nice woman, Elizabeth Armstrong. Everyone calls her Granny. Bobby took to her right away. Granny thinks that the Waldens might eventually accept Bobby as their grandson, but life moves slowly in this area. I can’t wait around here forever.”
“We hesitated about going to Missouri, but we think Mother Mayfield is our responsibility. We can’t expect her sister’s family to care for her. I don’t know how long we’ll be away, so if you come home now, you and Bobby will be alone. If you think the Waldens might change their mind, you could stay for another week or so.” She stopped to catch her breath, adding, “Your daddy’s reminding me that we have a train to catch. Tell me what you’re going to do.”
Julia wasn’t surprised that her mother was more distressed about Grandma Mayfield than she was about her daughter. Anger at her parents flooded Julia’s mind. She wanted to shout, “Bobby is your responsibility, not mine!” but they obviously hadn’t given that any consideration.
She was bewildered by this sudden change in her plans. Finally she said, “Give me a telephone number where I can reach you in Missouri. I’ll let you know soon whether I’m at home or still in Mistletoe.” Julia scribbled the telephone number on a discarded envelope she found on Alex’s littered desk. “I’ll probably return to Maryland, but I need to think about it.”
“If you don’t go home, I should have a telephone number where I can reach you in Kentucky.”
“There isn’t any telephone service in Mis
tletoe. I’ll have to call you when I come to Booneville.”
“No phones!” Her mother thought for a moment, then added, “You wanted to find a quiet place to write your book. Maybe that’s the place for you.”
“A lot of writing I’d get done with a toddler to watch,” Julia answered, so annoyed at this turn of events that she couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.
Julia heard her father’s voice in the background.
“All right, Clarence, I’m coming!” her mother shouted, and Julia held the receiver away from her ear. “Are you still there, Julia?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I’m in such a dither I don’t know what to do, but I can’t keep Clarence waiting any longer. Take care of yourself, dear. Give Bobby a kiss from his grandma.” Her mother rang off.
Julia stared at the phone receiver for a moment, unable to believe that her mother had terminated the conversation so abruptly. Not knowing whether the possibility of staying longer in Kentucky made her happy or angry, Julia went to look for David and her nephew.
Chapter Nine
David wondered what could have caused the bewildered expression on Julia’s face when she walked slowly out of the office.
She kissed Bobby on the cheek. “That’s from Grandma.”
“Gama?” Bobby said, peering around Julia and apparently expecting to see his grandmother.
“She isn’t here, baby. She sent the kiss over the telephone.”
“I want Gama,” the child insisted.
“Then you’ll have to wait awhile.” She sat on the rickety chair beside the door and took Bobby on her lap.
David hunkered down beside her. “Is anything wrong?”
Awkwardly she cleared her throat, her dark-lashed eyes remote and puzzled. “Not really.”
Smiling, he said tenderly, “Then why don’t you tell me what really isn’t wrong?”
“I barely caught my parents before they boarded a train to go to Noel, Missouri, to take care of my grandmother. They don’t know how long they’ll be away.” She quietly filled David in on what she’d learned from her mother. “This throws a hitch in my plans. I’d expected them to take care of Bobby when we got home.”
“Then don’t return to Maryland,” David said, his pulse racing at this unexpected—probably unwise for him—turn of events that might keep Julia in Kentucky. “There isn’t any reason you can’t stay in Mistletoe now.”
She shook her head. “I won’t impose on Granny any longer.”
He opened his mouth to protest, and she said, “Now, don’t say she’d be glad to have us. I know that, but I can’t stay here indefinitely. I have commitments at home. When I left Maryland, I didn’t expect to be gone more than a week. I’m dealing better with Bobby now, and I’ve learned to love him, but he isn’t my responsibility.”
David took Bobby. “You can’t leave until tomorrow, so let’s talk about it over lunch. I’m hungry. The hotel restaurant opens at eleven o’clock. Hey, Alex,” he called, and the mechanic looked up. “Thanks for your help. We’ll see you later.”
Alex waved the wrench he held and continued his work. As they walked to his car, David prayed for wisdom to convince Julia to stay in Kentucky. Was it reasonable to pursue this undeniable magnetism building for someone as secretive about her past as Julia was? In the few days he’d known her, he’d learned more about Julia’s parents, her sister, and Bobby than he knew about her. But his feelings for Julia had nothing to do with reason.
He guessed that Julia was in her midtwenties, not far from his age of twenty-seven. She’d indicated that she’d been involved in the war effort, but unless it was classified work, why hadn’t she said what she had done? Most veterans were eager to talk about their contribution to bring peace to the nation.
As they ate, David could tell that Julia’s mind wasn’t on her present surroundings. From what she’d said after she talked with her mother, he sensed her family took her for granted, and because of that, she’d developed an armor that kept everyone at arm’s length.
Suspecting that Julia needed time to deal with this latest upset to her plans, David left her alone after the meal and took Bobby for a walk around the courthouse square. When they returned, Julia was sitting on a bench in front of the bus station.
He sat beside her, their shoulders touching, but didn’t speak. Her hazel eyes mirrored loneliness and confusion. Julia’s beautiful face was crestfallen, like a child who had just learned that there wasn’t a Santa Claus. He was tempted to put his arm around her, but instinctively David knew the gesture wouldn’t be welcomed.
“David,” Julia said tentatively, a slight tremor in her velvet-edged voice. “Just suppose, and I’m only mentioning this as a possibility, that I decide to stay in Mistletoe for a couple of months. Is there any place for me to live?”
“You can stay in my house. I’ll move in with Granny,” he answered without hesitation.
“Do you think I’d actually take your home?”
“Why not? I lived with Granny after my folks died when I was a boy. I’d be welcome to stay there.”
She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “I will not move into your home. But I have been wondering about that house across the creek from yours—the one that belongs to a man in Louisville. Do you think I could rent it?”
David hit his forehead with the palm of the hand. “Why, of course. I should have thought of that right away. It’s furnished, and there’s running water and a bathroom, which you won’t find in any other house in Mistletoe. I can call the owner before we leave Booneville to see if he’s interested in leasing it.” He smiled confidently, happily. “I believe that’s the solution to your problem.”
“Part of the solution,” Julia said. “I have some work to do, which I can’t complete when I have to look after Bobby twenty-four hours a day. Is there anyone I can hire to take care of him while I’m busy?”
David stifled his curiosity about what kind of work she could do at Mistletoe and answered, “Nellie would jump at the chance to work for you. She’s trying to save money to go to college, but Millard won’t let her leave home to find a job.”
“She seems like a capable girl, and Granny said she helped take care of her younger siblings.”
“Sure. Kids learn to take responsibility early on in these mountains.”
“Let me sleep on it, and I’ll tell you in the morning whether I’m going home or staying in Kentucky for the summer. I can think of advantages either way.”
“I may be out of line to even ask you, but what kind of work will you be doing? I won’t be offended if you tell me it isn’t any of my business.”
She hesitated with a pensive expression in her eyes for so long that David muttered, “Forget I asked. Sorry.”
“No, it’s all right.” She took a deep breath and spoke in low, composed tones. “I was a member of the Women’s Army Corps for over three years. About half of that time I spent stateside, but I was sent overseas in 1943. I worked with the office force of General Patton. Soon after D-Day, I was sent to France. I returned to the States last year, but I wasn’t discharged from service until a couple of months ago.”
David stared at her in amazement. “Why, we must have been in Europe at the same time. I was among the first squadron of paratroopers dropped behind the German lines in Europe. We’ll have to compare notes and see if we might have brushed shoulders, never knowing that someday we’d meet in Kentucky.” He thought for a moment. “The WAC made a noteworthy contribution to the war. Why should you hesitate to talk about it?”
“Because of the bad reputation servicewomen have gotten, especially now that the war is over,” she said bitterly. “Some Congressmen and reporters are portraying women soldiers as prostitutes. Even people I’ve known for years look at me as if they wonder what I’ve done.”
Frowning slightly, David said, “Pardon me for saying so, but I saw a few servicewomen who deserved that reputation.”
Julia’s hazel glittered dangerously.
“A lot of soldiers didn’t live like Boy Scouts either.”
David held up his hands. “True enough. Please forget what I said. Women provided a great service to the war effort. But what does this have to do with your decision to stay in Mistletoe?”
“I studied journalism in college, and while I was in Europe, I wrote several articles about England and France that were published in the WAC magazine. The editor of Nation at War read them and asked me to write a book about my war experiences. The first draft is due by November.”
“That sounds great.”
“I am pleased with the assignment,” she agreed. “I kept journals while I was in service, so I have plenty of information. I need a quiet place to work, and as soon as I took Bobby home to my parents, I intended to rent an apartment and start on the manuscript.”
David grinned. “Mistletoe ought to be quiet enough.”
She nodded in agreement. “I brought my journals with me, thinking I might have time on the long train trip to review them.” With a wry smile she added, “That shows how much I knew about two-year-old boys.”
David’s pulse pounded when he considered having Julia living within sight of his house for several weeks, but he tried to conceal his eagerness. On the drive into Booneville, she’d given him a slight hope that he was more than a casual acquaintance to her, but that was when she intended to leave Mistletoe. You’re treading on dangerous ground, buddy, his conscience prompted, but David pushed the thought into the background.
“Julia, I’ll see to it that you find the time to write if you stay in Mistletoe. God has a purpose for everyone. You believe you came to Kentucky to fulfill your sister’s dying request, but it may be that God has another purpose for you. Let’s pray about it.”
