These Healing Hills

by Ann H. Gabhart

  Woody was smiling again. “Just like me.”

  “Ain’t that the truth!” Becca brushed her lips across Woody’s cheek. “You do like Ben said and mind the nurses. We better go mind Ma.”

  The collie was waiting by the door when they went out. Francine patted the truck bed and the dog hopped in. “I can ride back here too.” She started to climb into the back of the truck.

  “Nope. Sarge will be fine.” Ben stepped in front of her to slam the tailgate closed. “You ride up front.”

  “But it’ll be crowded. Especially after you pick up Granny Em.”

  “Who knows if we’ll even see her. She has her own shortcuts home, but if we do, we’ll make room. Sadie can sit in Becca’s lap.”

  “You ain’t looked at me lately, Ben.” Becca smoothed her dress over her growing stomach. “I done lost my lap.”

  “I can sit in Nurse Howard’s lap.” Sadie took Francine’s hand. “She’s got lots of lap.”

  “I do. And it’s all yours right now.” Francine stood back for Becca to get in first, but Becca motioned her toward the door.

  “Sorry, Nurse Howard, but you’ll have to do the scooting on the seat. I do well to climb in and cling to the door,” Becca said.

  So Francine ended up next to Ben. Then when they did see Granny Em making her slow progress through Hyden, Francine scooted closer to Ben to make room for the old woman. Her arm was warm against his. He gripped the steering wheel and fought the crazy urge to put an arm around her.

  Instead he leaned to look at Granny Em squeezed between Francine and Becca. “Who’s Coy?”

  “Plenty of Coys here in the hills. Right common name.” Granny Em kept her face forward.

  The old woman wasn’t going to give up any information easily. “You know the Coy I mean. The one that shot Woody.”

  “I weren’t close to the boy. Didn’t see ’ary a thing.” She turned her head toward him. He could barely see her face in the light reflected from the dash, but he could feel her scrutiny. “’Cepting you and this ’un here licking sorghum sticks.”

  Francine spoke up. “If you know who it was, Granny Em, shouldn’t you tell the sheriff?”

  “Folks sometimes do that.” Granny Em nodded. “If they know. I told you I weren’t close to the boy. Could be he can tell you more’n me.”

  “Could be.” Ben stared out at the road as an uneasy silence settled over them in the truck.

  Sadie started sniffling. “I want Ma.”

  “There, there.” Francine stroked Sadie’s head and spoke softly. “Becca and Ben will take care of you.”

  Ben noted her using his first name, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. He needed to take care of Sadie and Becca. Maybe even Granny Em. Francine didn’t need him to take care of her, but the thought was in his head that he wouldn’t mind adding her to the list. He thought about the college catalog he got in the mail a few weeks ago, but college wasn’t going anywhere. The GI Bill would still be there next year if he could work out a way to go to school and take care of his family. Right now, family came first.

  Granny Em gave Sadie’s knee a poke. “You’s too big to do all that tear making.”

  That just made Sadie cry harder. Francine put her hand over Sadie’s knees, as if to ward off any more pokes.

  “Coddling a body cheats ’em out of finding their own strength.” Granny Em stared out the windshield and didn’t look toward Francine.

  Ben started to say something, but Francine spoke first, her voice low and even. “There are times for growing stronger and times for comforting, and sometimes both times see a few tears.”

  Ben could feel Francine tightening her arms around Sadie.

  “And times to get on home.” Becca spoke up after being unusually quiet. “This baby is kicking up a storm. He’s hungry.”

  That made Sadie giggle through her tears and the mood in the truck lightened as Ben turned toward the Beech Fork Center.

  “You can let me out and I can walk from here,” Fran said. “You’ll get home faster that way.”

  “Oh, me and little Carl won’t starve that fast,” Becca said. “Will we?”

  “No not that fast.” A smile was in Fran’s voice. “But you do need to eat, and remember, smaller meals to keep the heartburn down. That and Granny Em’s dogwood bark.”

  Francine was making peace with Granny Em, but Ben still had questions that he was going to ask the old woman before she headed up the hill to her cabin. She knew more than she was telling.

  At the center, Ben stopped and opened his door. “Best you get out on this side. Be easier for Granny Em and Becca.”

  “Thank you for that, brother,” Becca said.

  Sarge leaped to the ground the second the truck stopped and sat down to wait for Francine. She gave Sadie another hug before she scooted under the steering wheel to get out.

  Ben helped her down off the running board. “I’m sorry the day ended hard.”

  “Woody getting better is all that matters now.” She hesitated, then touched his arm. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help. With Sadie or Becca. I’m very fond of both of them. And Woody too.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she had any little bit of that affection for him, but he swallowed the words. “You’ve done a lot already.”

  She stepped back then and he missed the warmth of her hand on his arm. Nothing for it but to climb back in the truck. Do what he had to do for his family. He needed to push these crazy feelings for her out of his head. They were from different worlds. But he couldn’t keep from looking in the side mirror at her one more time as he drove away.

  He got the truck as close to the house as he could so Becca and Sadie wouldn’t have to walk as far. Then he sent them on ahead while he walked with Granny Em toward her place.

  “Ain’t no need you walkin’ with me,” Granny Em said. “I know the way.”

  Ben kept walking beside her. “You know more than that.”

  “Could be I do.”

  She didn’t say any more as she continued climbing up the hill. The path was so narrow Ben had to walk behind her. He hadn’t been to her place since he came home, even though his mother had suggested more than once that he go up that way to see if the old woman needed repairs done on her cabin before winter. Maybe if he had, she’d be more ready to talk now.

  Ben tried to wait her out, but finally he said, “Are you going to tell me?”

  She let out a sigh. “I ain’t knowin’ anything for sure and certain. But the Caudills’ shine still got axed by the Feds a week or two ago. Could be they were of a mind that somebody told where it was.”

  “Woody?”

  Granny Em stopped walking and turned to peer up at Ben. Just enough moonlight slipped through the trees that he could see her face.

  “The boy is all over these hills. Prob’ly could lead you straight to a dozen stills. I figure he ain’t the kind to tell, but them Caudills might be thinkin’ diff’rent. I hear tell that trader feller you bought that vehicle from is thick with the revenuers and Woody’s been tradin’ with him some. Folks is wondering what he’s trading.” She hesitated a bare second. “Don’t reckon you know?”

  “No.”

  “Could just be purty rocks. City folks get all stirred up over shiny rocks.” She grabbed his arm with her bony fingers. “But one thing you keep in mind, Benjamin Locke. Don’t you be getting yo’self involved in no feud. All that comes from that is more dying.”

  “Whoever shot Woody needs to pay for it.”

  “I ain’t denying that, but could be that nurse girl is right. Let the sheriff handle it.” She gave his arm a shake and turned him loose. “Now you git on home. I been goin’ up this hill on my own two feet since afore your pa was born. I ain’t needin’ nobody to show me the way. That Sadie child might need a mite more coddling. Could be that nurse was right about that too.” She peered up at him in the moonlight. “That nurse, she’s a right purty thing, ain’t she? You best guard your heart.”
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br />   She turned to head on up the path. Then she looked back over her shoulder. “If’n it ain’t already too late.”

  30

  October 8, 1945

  Woody was released from the hospital after a week. By then, he’d been up talking to the other patients more than in his own bed. The doctor said a boy his age had a way of healing faster than most.

  Ben was there when the sheriff came to talk to Woody the day after he got shot, but Woody acted like he’d never mentioned any person’s name. Even when Ben asked about Coy, Woody shrugged and said he must have been out of his head. He knew some Coys but none that would shoot him. At least not on purpose. So if he thought any of those Coys shot him, it must have been an accident. To Ben’s ears, it didn’t sound as if Woody was lying outright, but he did appear to be skirting the truth.

  Ben waited. He’d have plenty of time to question Woody once he had him alone with no other ears bent their direction to listen.

  Francine had been to see Becca, but Ben was at the hospital when she came. Once Ma knew Woody was going to pull through, she came on home and let Ben go down to check on him. She claimed too much work to do before winter to spend hours sitting idle at the hospital. Not when Woody had all those nurses to see to him.

  She, along with everybody else, was ready to pass off the shooting as an accident the way Woody claimed. Ben didn’t swallow his story, but at the same time he wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He had loaded his father’s pistol, but the very feel of the gun brought back too many hard memories. He had come home glad to leave the war behind. He didn’t want to be part of an ongoing war here in the mountains. Even so, he couldn’t hide from the truth, whatever that was. Nor could Woody.

  On the ride home from the hospital, Woody chattered like a nervous squirrel, filling the truck cab with words that didn’t matter. Ben knew men like that in the army. Men who talked about every silly thing to keep from thinking about what might happen on the morrow. Or telling what happened yesterday.

  Ben stopped him as they started down Thousandstick Mountain. “Quit blabbering just to hear your voice in your ears and tell me what happened at the sorghum stir-off.”

  “About all I know is I got shot.” Woody spoke fast. “I imagine it was an accident.”

  “Or you imagine it wasn’t.” Ben didn’t frown at Woody. He was determined to keep an even keel no matter what the boy had to tell him. “Try the truth instead of imagining.”

  Woody stared out the window. “I didn’t do nothing wrong, Ben.”

  “I haven’t said you did. But I need to know what’s going on so I won’t have to be worried about you getting shot again. Is there worry that might happen?” Ben tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he waited for Woody’s answer.

  “Can’t really say, seeing as how I didn’t expect it to happen the first time.”

  “So who’s Coy? Was he playing with a gun and it just fired without any intent the way you’re trying to make out the shooting happened?”

  “No sir. I reckon he aimed to shoot me, but after I pondered it some, I’m of the mind he didn’t aim to kill me dead. Coy’s a right fair shot.” Woody rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

  “This Coy a friend of yours?”

  “Was back when he went to school. Then his pa let him quit after the fifth grade. Coy wasn’t much for book learning anyhow, but he could hit a baseball a mile.”

  Ben blew out a breath. “I get the feeling you don’t hold any hard feelings against this Coy. Not sure that makes sense.”

  “Well, it’s like this. I figure I can hunt Coy up and we can straighten out the misunderstanding.”

  “What misunderstanding?”

  “Coy’s pa has a still up on Whistler’s Ridge. I stumbled upon it some months ago. I didn’t think anybody saw me ’cause once I saw what was up, I kept my head down. It can be chancy around them stills, but somebody must have seen me around about those parts.” Woody moistened his lips and looked out the window as they started through Hyden. “I don’t reckon you want to stop at the store to get a soft drink. I’m mighty thirsty.”

  Without a word, Ben pulled into a parking spot. “You stay put,” he told Woody when the boy started to pull up on the door handle.

  “You act like I done something wrong by getting shot.”

  “Stay put,” Ben repeated with no give in his voice. He didn’t look back at Woody as he went into the store. The boy better know enough to do as he was told. Even so, Ben was relieved when he came out of the store with two drinks and a bunch of bananas to carry home and Woody hadn’t climbed out of the truck.

  He waited until they were headed out of town and Woody had downed part of the cola before he pushed him to tell more. “All right. You came across the still. I’m assuming that’s the Caudills’ still that Granny Em told me was raided.”

  “The revenuers found it and I can’t imagine they coulda done that without somebody pointing the way. Whistler’s Ridge is not easy to get to. You know where I’m meaning.”

  “I do. Pa and I used to squirrel hunt up that way now and again.”

  “A fire took out some of the trees back a few years and now it’s growed up with every kind of bush until it’s hard going.”

  “Why were you there?”

  Woody shrugged. “I don’t know. Just seems like after Pa died that I couldn’t get no rest unless I was moving.”

  “So was Coy or his father arrested?”

  “Nope. The way I heard it, they got wind of the raid in time to make themselves scarce, but not in time to move their operation. Reckon that upset ’em some.”

  “They were breaking the law,” Ben said.

  “Don’t look at me that way. I wasn’t making moonshine. I just happened on where it was being made. Gave that place a wide berth after that.”

  “But they still thought you told.”

  “That’s the part I haven’t figured out. Why they would think that.”

  “Shorty Johnson.” Ben shot a look over at Woody as he said the trader’s name.

  “Oh.” Woody ran his finger around the top of his soda bottle. Then he took a drink and swallowed. “That could be it.”

  “What’s it?”

  “Shorty will do ’bout anything for a dollar and some folks say the Feds are willing to pay to hunt down the stills.”

  “For a kid, you know an awful lot about stuff you shouldn’t know about.” Ben frowned as he stared out at the road.

  “I’m fifteen, Ben.” Woody sounded insulted. “I could go work in the mines if Ma would let me.”

  “No.” The word almost exploded out of Ben. He pulled in a breath to calm down. “No mines. You’re going to school and make something of yourself. If you don’t get killed dead first.”

  “That’s what Ma says too. ’Cept that part about getting killed dead.”

  “What do you have to do with Shorty Johnson?”

  “No more’n anybody else. Shorty buys stuff sometimes. He’s big on marbles. Collects them. Now and again, I come across an aggie marble or two that was lost who knows when in the school yard. And then sometimes if a feller takes time to look, he can snag a pretty agate rock in the creeks. Shorty’ll buy those too, but I ain’t never told him nothing ’bout stills. I got more sense than that.”

  Woody finished off his drink. “Ev’rybody knows that Shorty ain’t one to be trusted, and no way was I wanting trouble with the Caudills. Coy’s pa is a mean one and I hear tell his grandpa is even meaner.”

  Ben turned the truck down into the creek and hit a rock that bounced Woody up off the seat. He groaned and grabbed his chest.

  “Sorry.” Ben looked over at Woody, who still had a grimace on his face. “You okay?”

  “It’s a mite sore. Doctor said it would be for a spell. Don’t know how much work I’ll be able to do for a while.”

  “None. No horseback riding either or walking to who knows where to find trouble. You’re going to attend to your school books for a while.”


  “Aww, Ben. I can’t stay shut up in the house all the time.”

  “You can sit on the porch.”

  “Well, maybe Nurse Howard will come see me.” Woody grinned and gave Ben a sideways look. “That’ll get us all singing and feeling better. Even you.”

  “We’re not talking about Nurse Howard. We’re talking about you. So explain why you didn’t tell the sheriff all this.”

  “You’ve been gone from the mountains too long.” Woody jiggled the soda bottle up and down on his leg. “You must’ve forgot how it is. The sheriff takes Coy in, then it’ll be Coy’s pa who comes after me next. Better to let it be an accident. Besides, I didn’t want to get Coy in trouble. Like I said, we’re practically friends.”

  “He shot you.” Ben couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

  “If I know anything, I know it was his pa that made him. Like I said, he didn’t shoot to kill me dead.”

  “You might have bled to death if Nurse Howard hadn’t been there.”

  “Then I reckon it’s lucky for me that you’re half stuck on her and asked her along.” Woody grinned over at Ben.

  Ben didn’t smile back. “We’re not through with this. But your trading days with Shorty Johnson are over.”

  “Good thing you got this truck first. And them dogs. Nurse Francine really likes that Sarge.”

  “Nurse Howard to you.” Ben kept his voice stern. “And to me too as far as that goes. That was a slip of the tongue that won’t happen again.”

  “I don’t see why not. I think she’s a mighty fine woman. If I weren’t already in love with Jeralene, I might ask her to wait till I got a little older.”

  “Now you’re just being silly.”

  “I don’t know. She might could wait. She likes me.” Woody tried a laugh that ended in a sharp pulled-in breath. “That laughing muscle still ain’t doing so good. But I guess you’re right. I was being silly. But fact is, most all Mrs. Breckinridge’s brought-in nurses don’t appear to be the marrying kind.”

  “They probably go back to wherever they’re from and get married after they leave here.” Ben didn’t like thinking about that for Francine.