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Love Finds You Under the Mistletoe

Page 11

by Irene Brand


  “Now what’s this all about?” Granny asked.

  David explained about the death of Lance’s brother and the threatening letters he’d been receiving from the boy. “He came to carry out his threats and probably would have killed me if Julia hadn’t prevented it.”

  He flashed an indignant look in her direction, but Julia recognized the tenderness behind his displeasure.

  “Where’s the gun?” Granny asked.

  “I threw it away.”

  “Find it and put it in your safe.”

  Granny sat beside the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. He lifted his head. “Go ahead and have me arrested,” he said defiantly. “I don’t care.”

  “Of course you care,” Granny said. “What kind of upbringing did you have that you’d try to kill a man you’d never seen before?”

  “I didn’t have any upbringing,” he said bitterly. “My folks died when I was a boy, and my older brother and I lived with our bachelor uncle. He hardly noticed us, but Adrian always looked after me. When he was killed, I didn’t have anybody to care what I did.”

  “How old are you, son?” Granny asked.

  “Seventeen.”

  “Unless Julia wants to press charges, we won’t call the sheriff.”

  Julia shook her head.

  “You look to me like somebody who needs a little lovin’ care,” Granny said. She reached out a hand and lifted Lance to his feet. “I’m takin’ you home with me.”

  Using her injury as an excuse, Julia decided to stay in Mistletoe through the Christmas season. Granny had assured her that, while they often had a white Christmas, the heavy snows usually didn’t start until January.

  During the month of December, she helped Nellie make mistletoe balls to be sold in her aunt’s variety store in Maryland. They decided on an original pattern. Julia bought all of the balls of crochet thread to be found in Booneville and ordered more through a Sears, Roebuck and Co. catalog. Using straight pins, they covered the balls of thread with mistletoe and then sprayed them with lacquer. When that dried, they attached pinecones, vines, and berries to each ball. To secure the items on the balls for shipment, they covered them with strips of nylon hosiery.

  They mailed the first dozen balls to Maryland, and when they received an order for four dozen more, the entire Armstrong family got into the spirit of the project and helped them gather the supplies they needed. David and Millard shot numerous clumps of mistletoe from trees. Nellie’s brother and his friends roamed the mountains and valleys gathering pinecones, red berries, and colorful vines.

  They had one mistletoe ball left when those orders were filled, so Julia sent it to her cousin Annie Rose Walker in Noel, Missouri, as a Christmas gift. After they’d mailed the last shipment of mistletoe balls, Julia and Nellie spent hours at the local post office helping the postmaster’s family affix the special postmark on Christmas cards that were mailed to people throughout the United States and some foreign countries.

  The change in Lance in the next few weeks was miraculous. He had gained weight, and he went with the family to church. He helped Granny look after Bobby while Julia and Nellie worked at the post office, and he even took over some of the chores so that David could devote more time to his studies.

  One evening, Granny walked up the hollow and found David at Julia’s house.

  “I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you about Lance. The boy ain’t got any kin who want him. I’ve decided to give him a home.”

  David winked at Julia. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too old to raise another kid?”

  “No, I’m not. Not if the two of you will help me.”

  Tears misted Julia’s eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here, but I’ll help for as long as I can.”

  Granny nodded. “The boy hasn’t graduated from high school, but he’s sharp enough. If you and David will help him, he could get his diploma by mail. After that, he would be ready for Berea College.”

  David walked to his grandmother and placed an affectionate arm around her stooping shoulders. “God bless you, Granny. You know I’ll help. I’ll tutor him until he can pass the exams.”

  Julia felt that she was no longer grasping at straws for reasons to stay near David. In addition to helping Lance with his lessons, she became increasingly involved in the community’s affairs. She went caroling with several of the church members and invited them to her house for cookies and hot chocolate afterward. She also drove her rented car to help Sadie Brown deliver gifts to the needy people in the area.

  Julia couldn’t envision a life without David, nor could she consider spending the rest of her life in Mistletoe. She felt lost in limbo until the day she went with Granny to the family cemetery and became convinced that she must leave Mistletoe forever.

  She had been curious about the cemetery but had never encountered it during her hikes through the woods with David. When she and Granny were walking home from church the first Sunday in December, Granny mentioned that she intended to visit the family cemetery the following day to prepare it for winter.

  “I’d like to go with you,” Julia said. “Where is it?”

  “On yon side of the road.” Granny gestured toward the hollow opposite her cabin site. “Lance will go, but we can use your help too. Take some heavy gloves with you.”

  As Julia dressed the next morning, she was thankful her aunt in Maryland had shipped Julia’s winter clothes to her. She put on a pair of corduroy pants and a knee-length coat, wound a heavy scarf around her throat, and donned a brown toboggan she’d bought in Booneville.

  When Julia arrived at Granny’s cabin, she saw that Lance had filled a wheelbarrow with hoes, mattocks, and shovels. Granny handed her a sack of small wreaths to carry, which she’d made with pieces of fabric intertwined with pinecones and dried red berries.

  “I kinda got the idea when I watched you and Nellie makin’ the mistletoe balls. There won’t be enough to decorate every grave,” she said, “but these will brighten up the place.”

  Granny put a quart-sized jar of water and some sandwiches in a sack and carried it as they crossed the road and walked through a meadow for a half-mile before climbing a small hill. “Hit’s a fur piece from the house,” Granny said, “but when my man started the graveyard, he wanted to be sure it was high enough so’s the graves wouldn’t get flooded by Buffalo Crick. Hit’s not easy to find enough level ground for buryin’.”

  Julia surveyed the burial ground, which was situated at the edge of the forest and surrounded by a rail fence. A few cedar trees grew within the cemetery, and she counted more than thirty headpieces. Granny set Lance to cutting weeds before she went to four small headstones in the center of the plot and bowed her head.

  Julia stood beside Granny and read the crude inscriptions, JOSHUA, MARY, PAULINE, and JOSEPHINE. She assumed these were the graves of Granny’s children who had died as infants. A nearby stone marked the final resting place of Elijah Armstrong, Granny’s husband. David’s parents were buried beside Elijah.

  “He was a good man,” Granny said of her husband. “David is more like him than any of my other kids or grandkids.”

  Granny took a mattock from the wheelbarrow, and Julia asked, “What shall I do?”

  “Follow Lance and pull any weeds he can’t get with the scythe. I’ll dig up the roots of the big plants.”

  Wooden crosses marked most of the graves, but Julia eventually came to a small granite headstone that bore the inscription, ALICE ARMSTRONG AND INFANT SON, DAVEY. 1940.

  “Davey? David?” Julia whispered. With a quickened pulse and a strange sense of apprehension, Julia called to Granny, “Who’s Alice Armstrong?”

  It was the first time Julia had known Granny to be jolted out of her calm serenity. “David ain’t told you?” she stammered.

  “Told me what?” Julia whispered, and the grim expression on Granny’s face set alarm bells ringing in Julia’s heart.

  Granny drew a deep breath, and her arm encircled Julia’s shou
lders. “Alice was David’s wife. He was only seventeen and Alice sixteen when they married. She died giving birth to a stillborn baby, and they were buried together.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. David should have told you.”

  Julia walked away from Granny and leaned against a cedar tree. She was trembling inwardly, whether from anger or sadness she didn’t know. Why hasn’t David told me? She couldn’t say anything and didn’t even look at Granny, just knelt by another grave and continued to pull weeds. Granny sighed deeply and whacked at the bushes with her mattock.

  When they’d finished the work and started homeward, Granny walked alongside Julia. “There’s somethin’ else you ought to know. On her deathbed, Alice begged David to promise that he would never marry again.”

  Julia gasped and turned startled eyes toward Granny. “And he promised?” she whispered.

  “He promised.”

  Julia’s thoughts rioted as they walked the short distance, wishing she could leave Mistletoe before David returned from the university. She’d been here nearly four months, and the Waldens had made no move to claim Bobby as their grandson. She would leave for Maryland immediately if she hadn’t promised the postmaster to help finish postmarking the Christmas cards.

  Was there any way she could avoid David? She couldn’t bear to talk to him now. He must know that she’d fallen in love with him. Why hadn’t he told her about the vow he’d taken? David had proven by his actions and words that he loved her, but not once had he ever indicated that he wanted to marry her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When David turned his Chevrolet into the lane leading to his house, Granny stepped out onto her porch and beckoned to him. He parked the car and walked with long strides toward her. His two days in Lexington had seemed like a week, and he was eager to see Julia. He was finding it harder and harder to stay away from her. He followed Granny into the cabin, and the stern look on her face alerted him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why didn’t you tell Julia about your marriage?”

  He slumped down onto the davenport. “I assume that she does know now. Who told her?”

  “I did. She went with Lance and me to clean the graveyard for winter. She pulled weeds around Alice’s grave and asked who she was.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “Poorly! I’m disappointed in you, David. You’ve always been forthright and honest. I don’t know what’s gone on between you and Julia, but a blind man could tell that you love each other. Why didn’t you tell her?”

  “I couldn’t! She hadn’t been here a day when I knew I loved her. I’m sure she loves me too. You don’t know what an empty feeling that gave me—to know the only way I could have her was to break the deathbed vow I’d made to Alice. Tell me what I ought to do.”

  Granny sat beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. She could be very stern with her rebukes, but her voice was soft and warm when he needed comforting.

  “My dear boy, I can’t tell you what to do. In the first place, Alice was selfish to ask you to make such a promise, but we can excuse her because she was young and afraid of dyin’. I’ve studied the Good Book to see if you would be accountable to God if you didn’t keep your vow to Alice. I haven’t found any Scripture that deals with the promise you made. Best I can figure out, some vows are sacred. Any promise we make to God, we should keep. Wedding vows are sacred too. We promise to stay with the same man or woman till death parts us. I can’t find anything in the Bible that has any bearin’ on your vow.”

  “I made the promise willingly. What if Julia and I marry, and I always feel guilty? I suppose I’m like our ancestors who ‘put out the fleece.’ If God would give me some assurance that it’s right for me to marry Julia, I’d propose instantly.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, but I can’t see that anybody would be hurt if you didn’t keep that promise you made to your dyin’ wife. Continue to pray that God will show you what’s right to do. Now, go to Julia—set things right between you.”

  David soon learned that was easier said than done. He went immediately to Julia’s house. Nellie had gone for the day, and he thought it would be a good time to ask Julia’s forgiveness. But one glance at her convinced him that she wouldn’t listen to him.

  “I see Granny intercepted you and told you what I learned today,” she said in a tense, ominous voice that discouraged any discussion. “I can understand why you haven’t wanted to talk to me about the situation. Now I don’t want to discuss it. Please go home and don’t bother me any more.” She closed the door.

  “Won’t you at least let me ask for your forgiveness?” he asked through the door. Complete silence was her only answer, and his misery was like a steel weight in his heart. Bereft and desolate, David jumped off the porch and walked to his cabin.

  Julia stood with her back against the door, wondering what she would do if David tried to force himself into the house. When he didn’t, she knew it was all over between them. Bobby toddled toward her.

  “Dade?” he questioned. She lifted him and carried him to a rocking chair, sat down and held him close. He hadn’t had a nap, and he soon went to sleep. Julia continued to hold him while she considered her options.

  It would be torture to live within sight of David’s cabin and not even talk to him, but he had deceived her. He’d told her he loved her more than anyone else. What about his wife? If he’d been so distraught over her death that he’d fled Mistletoe and enlisted in the army, his love for Alice must have been great. Julia cringed at the thought that David might have said those loving words just because she’d acted like a baby and complained that no one loved her.

  When Bobby finished his nap, she read to him for half an hour before she gave him a piece of chicken and some mashed potatoes that Nellie had prepared and put in the warming oven. She couldn’t eat, but she drank a cup of coffee and listened to his chatter even though she had no idea what he was trying to say.

  After Bobby was in his bed for the night, Julia lay on the couch and slept fitfully. When morning dawned, she had made her plans. She wouldn’t return to Maryland until she had finished her commitment to the postmaster.

  “Hey, Julia,” Nellie said when she arrived the next morning. “I stopped by the post office and picked up your mail. I think you heard from your publisher.”

  “Oh, I hope it’s good news!” Julia snatched the envelope from Nellie, picked up a knife, and opened it. “Well, what do you know! Here’s a check.” She quickly scanned the letter.

  Dear Miss Mayfield,

  We are very pleased with your manuscript, and we want to proceed with publication as soon as possible. Enclosed is a check for half of your royalty advance. After we return the manuscript to you for some minor edits and it’s ready for the printer, we’ll send the remainder of your advance. There’s a great demand for war memoirs, and we intend to have the book in print by early next summer.

  I have another assignment for you, provided you are interested in taking it. Prior to the war, inhabitants of the Appalachian Mountains were somewhat isolated from the rest of the country. That changed when the war removed boundaries by involving everyone in the war effort. I would like for you to conduct a study on the mountaineers and their way of life as it is now, comparing it to the culture of the area prior to the beginning of the war. Now that you’re acquainted with the people of Mistletoe, Kentucky, it seems that would be a good place for you to start. I’m eager to discuss this new project with you.

  Julia felt like a deflated balloon. She had been resigned to leave Mistletoe, and now this new opportunity had been placed before her.

  “God,” she prayed mentally, “why has my whole world become topsy-turvy? I had fewer concerns when I was in the army!”

  For the next two days she stayed inside the cabin, praying desperately to know God’s will for her life. She hadn’t yet written to her editor, either to acknowledge receipt of the royalty check or to accept or reject the new assig
nment.

  She was cleaning Bobby’s high chair on the third day when Nellie entered the cabin. “I’ll take care of that,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m a little late. The day is perfect, and I wanted to stay outside as long as I could.”

  “I’m just cleaning up the spills,” Julia told her. “I do believe the child gets more food on the floor and chair than he does in his stomach.”

  “You’ve got to expect that from two-year-olds,” Nellie said, as wise in the ways of children as her grandmother was. She hung her jacket on a wooden rack by the door. “I’m going to mop all the floors today, anyway.”

  “Then I’ll go for a walk in the woods. I have to make a decision about that book the editor wants me to write. I’ll put Bobby in the playpen to keep him out of your way.”

  Nellie chuckled. “I’ll still have to watch him. He’s climbed out of the pen a few times!”

  To prevent David from seeing her, Julie entered the forest behind her cabin. After a brisk climb up the mountain, she walked by the cave where David had declared his love, remembering how happy she’d been that day. She’d thought her life had been complicated during the war years, but it was nothing compared to the frustration she’d endured during the past few months.

  She wandered to a promontory, where she had a bird’s-eye view of the church and Buffalo Creek valley. Julia sat on the wide ledge to get her breath and watched a few dried leaves drift lazily toward the ground.

  What should I do? Indecision was driving her crazy. Until she’d met David Armstrong her life had been cut-and-dried, but since she’d come to Mistletoe, she had been on a merry-go-round. In her morning devotions, she’d read Psalm 27. The words of the fourteenth verse kept reverberating through her memory. Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.

 

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