The Thorn Healer

by Pepper D. Basham

  “We know what we need to do in the instance you don’t.” She approached the bed, uncertain. “Good night, Jude.”

  “You gonna say prayers, Miss Jesse?”

  The warmth slid into a chill. She’d prayed over hundreds of soldiers, several nurses and doctors, and even her mother’s deathbed, to no avail.

  “It don’t have to be a long ʼun, I don’t guess. Mama’s were awful short. She said God knew her heart already.”

  Jess drew in a deep breath. “How about you pray tonight, Jude, with your mama in mind, and then I’ll pray tomorrow night?”

  Silence followed for a second and then the little boy hopped from the bed and knelt to the floor. “I s’pose I’ve heard enough prayers to know a thing or two ʼbout ‘em.”

  Jess braced herself with the bed as she lowered to her knees beside Jude. Heaviness pressed down on her with incredible force, bringing the heat of tears back into her eyes.

  “Oh, Heavenly Father in Heaven.”

  Tears tipped over Jess’ eyelids at the sound of the little voice in the dark room and his redundancy.

  “Thank you for our food and a warm bed. In fact, it’s the warmest bed I ‘bout ever seen. And thank you that Mama and Daddy are together again.”

  The warmth spilled down her cheeks at his innocence and gratitude, only days after his mother died. Sweet gratitude in the face of brokenness. Pain seared through her chest. How?

  “And thank you for Miss Jesse’ and Mr. and Mrs. Carter for being so kind to take me and Faith on, especially since Miss Jesse ain’t had no motherin’ experience.”

  Jess’ smile returned despite her tears.

  “I reckon you must know best about these things and I reckon you placed me in Miss Jesse’s life for as good a reason as you placed her in mine. If you don’t mind none, would you help us learn how to be a family like Mama wanted? And help Faith sleep better for Miss Jesse.”

  Jess covered her mouth with her palm to hold back a sob.

  “I know there’s gotta be a heap of people who need you worse ‘n me, but I appreciate you listenin’. Amen.”

  Jess stood as the boy crawled into bed, barely able to trust her voice. The tears cooled on her face but didn’t stop, thankfully hidden by the darkness.

  “Good night, Miss Jesse.”

  With quick movements, she leaned over and kissed the boy’s head. “Good night, Jude.”

  Jess slipped from the room and leaned back against the wall at the top of the hallway. How? How could Jude Larson hold such a thankful heart in the middle of his grief? She tried to explain it all away as a simply a childish innocence, but a piece of her heart bucked against the easy dismissal. She’d believed it all once. Cherished her faith and the Keeper of it. But how could she cling to such a love filled with loss and grief and scars? How could she take the hard providences as His good work in her life? The betrayals?

  Her wounds cried out for revenge. Her heart ached from the weary battle to maintain control.

  “How?” She whispered into the moonlit darkness.

  You are not alone.

  Chapter Ten

  Jessica hurried to town, her grandpa’s Model T bumping along the dirt road made sloshy by the morning rain. As soon as the sun broke through the gray skies after dinner, Jess asked Granny to watch Jude and Faith while she dashed to town for a few supplies, particularly baby needs, as well as a lollipop for Jude. After watching the pure ecstasy on his face at tasting Granny’s cinnamon-apple cookies for the first time, Jess couldn’t wait to see his response to a lollipop. Her smile spread. Or a Life Saver. If Kimp carried them, she’d purchase a whole pack so he could taste each flavor.

  “Mr. Lawry saw you coming down the street and brought some mail to you.” Kimp handed over two envelopes and then proceeded to ring up Jessica’s items.

  “Thank you.” She glanced down at the top envelope and smiled. Her father’s handwriting. Oh, how she missed him, her brother, David, and even David’s wife, Catherine.

  She slid the mail into her skirt pocket. “Any news from the war?”

  “Same old,” Kimp answered, sliding the groceries to a young girl on his left to place in a paper bag. “Seems there’s talk it might not be much longer, but they’ve been saying that for months now.”

  And by the time news reached Hot Springs, it was at least a month old.

  “Who is your fine helper, Mr. Kimper?”

  He passed the girl a look from his periphery. “This is my niece, Amy McKinney, come to live with us and study at the school.”

  “Dorland Bell?” Jess surveyed the young girl, whose simple attire and pale features gave off a Jane Eyre quality—well, everything except for the spindly curl to her dark hair, hair so unruly it would not be tamed into a bun and instead sprung down either side of the girl’s face in ringlets. “I’ve heard excellent things of the school, Miss McKinney.”

  Her smile transformed her entire face, and her rich brown eyes even sparkled. “They’ve been very kind to me.”

  “And have you learned a lot?”

  “Oh, yes.” A brightness filled her hazel eyes. “I’m ever so thankful for Uncle Kimp taking me in so I could attend there.”

  Kimp grunted in a good-natured response, typical of most of the menfolk in town. Tenderness was a private emotion, not public. Very unlike her father, despite his English upbringing, who doled out affection like morphine in a Clearing Station.

  “I’m glad you are in such good hands.”

  “I’ve heard you are a nurse.” Miss McKinney held out the grocery bag, her smile growing to an infectious degree.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I hope to study medicine too.” The girl nodded, her jaw firm with confidence. “Maybe even become a doctor.”

  “Don’t talk nonsense, girl. Girls don’t become doctors ‘round here.”

  “Now, Mr. Kimper.” Jess leveled the man with a stare. “Careful, or I’ll assume you think your niece can’t become a doctor.”

  Kimp placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I ain’t gonna start an argument with you about the rights of women. I couldn’t win ‘em ten years ago and I don’t reckon I could win ‘em now.” He gestured toward his niece. “But it ain’t good to put notions in simple girls’ heads. She ain’t got no earl for a daddy.”

  “My father wasn’t an earl when I went to school. He was part of Hot Springs and worked hard to put food on the table like every other man here, but he also believed I could achieve just as much as my brother, if I wanted.” She smiled over at Amy. “And so can Amy. Who’s to say she can’t be a doctor if she has the mind and will for it?”

  Kimp barely held back his grin as he shoved the other grocery bag toward Jess. “You’ve caused enough trouble in here for one morning, Jessica Ross. You’d better git out before Amy takes the notion to run for president.”

  Jess took the bag and twisted her smile into submission. “What an excellent suggestion, Mr. Kimper. I’m glad to see you’re a visionary.”

  Kimp rolled his eyes and shooed her toward the door. She caught Amy’s grin and added a wink to the exchange before she stepped from the store.

  “We meet again, Miss Ross. My day has greatly improved.”

  Jasper Little strolled toward her. He looked quite fetching with his straw hat, walking cane, and Cheshire cat smile, each sending the slightest thrill through her middle.

  What woman didn’t enjoy a little harmless flattery from a handsome man? Even a woman who was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

  “I see you’ve not been frightened away by the natives yet, sir.”

  His smile spread. “Despite their best attempts, I remain. I’m quite stubborn in my way, you understand.”

  “I’m cut from the same cloth, for good or for bad.” She shrugged and loosened her grin. “But mostly good, of course.”

  “I wouldn’t imagine otherwise.”

  She reveled in the freedom of such harmless flirtation, especially with a man of equal wit and interest
. Many of the good-hearted boys of Hot Springs were either much too intense to appreciate healthy banter or too involved in their farm lives and work to provide conversational variety.

  “Let me assist you.” He took her bags in his arms, maneuvering with more ease than expected without his hand.

  He’d learned to live with his wounds as she’d done. Survivors. Fighters. Yes, he understood in ways others couldn’t.

  “Thank you.”

  “Whatever excuse necessary to enjoy your company, Miss Ross.”

  A rush of heat stole into her face at his compliment and she started toward her car down the street to avoid his poignant stare.

  He fell into step with her, bringing with him the sweet scent of licorice.

  “You’ve indulged in some of Kimp’s sweet treats, I see.”

  His brow tilted with his enticing grin. “I have the money to pay for such inflated sweets, which Mr. Kimper readily took without complaint.”

  “No doubt.” She snickered, indulging in the giddy swell of controlled attraction. “And how goes your research?”

  He groaned and shook his head, his expression fading into a grimace. “Slower than anticipated, I’m afraid.”

  She stopped and turned to him, lowering her cane to the ground now that her arms were free. “It’s a big world behind all those forests, isn’t it?”

  He looked away, staring ahead. “Quite.”

  She could only imagine. Eliza’s death and funeral whisked Jess quickly back into the culture of her upbringing. As a whole, the Appalachian people, particularly the ones further back in the mountains, kept to themselves and wore suspicion like a coat. Of course, there were exceptions, and most of the people were quick to offer generous aid to those within their community, but newcomers? Many times, that was a very different story.

  “I’d suspect not everyone was very welcoming.”

  He squinted into the cloud-covered sunlight in the faded afternoon blue sky. “Indeed not. Part of the culture?”

  “Lots of natives of the mountains are suspicious of outsiders, but I’m certain that’s no surprise to you based on your studies.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I can go with you some time, if you like, and help bridge the gap? Perhaps bring grandfather along.”

  His smile wavered, but quickly returned. “I appreciate your offer and will be happy to employ your assistance when next I venture forth into the great unknown hollows.”

  She laughed and shrugged off a sudden sense of discomfort, commencing her walk up Main Street toward the Railroad depot and the camp. “I’m certain Jane Gentry gave you bushels of insight. She’s usually very good at that.”

  “Indeed. Bushels, as you said, but at least someone was helpful.”

  “Any of the other ladies I mentioned?” she prodded, searching for their previous fluid and congeal conversation. “Certainly not only Jane has helped you? Most of the older ladies near town enjoy reminiscing as much as they enjoy their rocking chairs.”

  His smile didn’t return, his brow crinkled. “One or two, but I can’t recall their names. Unusual names, I believe.”

  The uneasiness dampened a bit. “No doubt it was Bellzora or Zipporah?”

  He laughed. “Ah, yes. Weren’t those ladies on the outskirts of town, as you said?”

  “Yes, and you’ll have opportunity to meet more when you accompany my grandfather on his rounds in the future.”

  “Ah.” He stopped at the railroad crossing and waited for direction. “Which should begin in only a few days, if I remember.”

  “Yes, Tuesday morning.” Jessica sighed, feeling a little sorry for the handsome English stranger. No doubt his upbringing had not prepared him for Hot Springs. “I’ll apologize ahead of time. If you thought traipsing about the mountains nearby were daunting, wait until you join Grandpa on his rounds. It certainly provides an education into the culture.”

  “Why did that sound more like a warning than an offer of encouragement?”

  She paused in his gaze. There’d been a few men over the years, nothing serious. Much like this, the conversations kept to a shallow ease, never piercing beneath the surface of convention and pretense. Never dipping into depths August Reinhold’s gaze threatened to unearth with tender tilling.

  Why him? Of all the people in the world, or even in Western North Carolina, why a man who came from the heritage of her attacker, and even resembled him in some slight way. Why?

  More of God’s humor doled out for her good?

  “Probably a little of both.” She nodded across the street near Iron Horse’s Boarding House where she’d left the car. “There’s my car. I appreciate your help and company for the walk, Mr. Little, but I must get back home to help Granny with supper. What are your plans? More investigating?”

  His dark gaze locked on hers, more intense. “Um... yes, investigating.” He sighed and his brow puckered with a frown. “I suppose I’ll return to the boarding house for this evening. I find myself quite lost after dark, except for the excitement offered inside the tavern.”

  “Oh, I’m certain there’s a whole variety of excitement there.” Folks rarely stepped too far across the law in town, especially with the upright and serious Officer Lawson at the helm, but a tavern was still a tavern. “If you have no plans for Monday evening, perhaps you’d like to join me and my grandparents for supper? It would give you a chance to ask my grandfather questions before he leads you into the great unknown on Tuesday? Unless your usual cohorts at the tavern will miss you?”

  His gaze wavered before returning with an added smile. “I suppose they can do without me for one night. I’d be delighted to accept your offer.”

  “Good.” She turned toward the street. “Then I best get these items home and share the news with Granny. She loves feeding people.” Jess steadied her cane as she stepped to cross the street, making certain of no oncoming carriages or rare automobiles.

  “Do you think you could walk unaided by your cane as you near the camp?”

  The question sent her a little off balance, with or without the cane. She could walk without the cane, but the exercise always made her limp more pronounced.

  “You could hold to my arm instead, perhaps?” he added, quickly, his attention flicking to the camp gate and back.

  Jess followed his gaze to the camp, where a few internees stood in a line at the camp gate, most likely preparing to cross back to the Upper Camp to the barracks for the evening. “I’m sorry, Mr. Little, but I don’t make it a habit of linking arms with a man on a regular basis. People would think we’re courting.”

  His smile spread, tight and false. “And that would be a problem?”

  “At this point, to make a habit of it would be false advertising.”

  He groaned and followed her out into the street. “But couldn’t you go without your cane near the camp? You mustn’t let them know how they’ve wounded you. I’m certain they’ll find a way to take advantage of your weaknesses.”

  A chill crossed over her skin at the unintentional foreknowledge in his topic. She walked a little faster. “Come now, Mr. Little, the men are behind a clapboard fence near town and a barbed wire one along the remainder of the periphery.”

  “Not all of them.”

  His implication clipped with bitterness. August Reinhold. Jess reached for the anger to apply to the very thought of the golden-headed stranger, but its potency staggered as mental visions of him clamored to the surface. Could he have deceived her entire family for this long? What could he gain by showing kindness to Jude during and after Eliza’s death?

  Her grandparents were soft-hearted but not ignorant, mountain-born but seasoned with life’s wisdom. Would they be so easily taken in by a duplicitous foreigner?

  She looked toward the camp as a careful line of internees marched across the street to the barracks on the other side. They paraded tall and proud in khaki trousers and white shirts stained with hard work. She shook off the chill of Jasper’s warning.

 
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Little, but I’ve taken care of myself for a long time, Germans or not, and I mean to continue the practice.” She took the bags from his arms and placed them in the Model T.

  “Unless you find someone who would willingly take care of you?” He leaned against the vehicle, his gaze moving from her face down to her shoes and back. She flinched.

  “Or I find someone who needs my care?” she challenged with a grin and refused his assistance into the car to prove her point, taking her place behind the steering mechanism. “I appreciate chivalry, Mr. Little, as any thoughtful woman should, but I also value an equal partnership of minds and strengths. A couple, to my mind, should not only desire each other’s company, but find relief in their complementary strengths.”

  “Of course.” He tipped his hat.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be off to let Granny know of your visit. Despite the delicious fare served at the Iron Horse, I suggest you prepare yourself for a feast of Appalachian cooking as only my granny can offer. Good day.”

  She turned the car into motion and glanced over to the camp, only to catch the last glimpse of August’ face before he disappeared behind the fence. Had he seen the exchange between her and Jasper?

  Jess sat a little straighter and stared ahead. No matter. Why should she worry about the thoughts of August Reinhold?

  ***

  “We will have a formal visit from General Ames again in three weeks, at which time we are to have the entire camp ready for an inspection.”

  August stepped into the dining hall in time to hear the tail end of Captain Ruser’s announcement. The older but stalwart captain stood at the front of the long room, his presence as commanding as his voice. The hundreds of officers in the room sat to attention.

  “If we are to leave our mountain camp, we will leave honorably and without cause for shame. If the U.S. Government wishes us to prepare the camp for departure, then we shall work toward the goal until they remove the last man.”