Every Hill and Mountain

by Deborah Heal

“How do I make it work?”

  Ryan took over the explanation. “It’s simple, Kathryn,” he said. “It is actually a fairly common software protocol—very much like typical architecture programs.”

  Merri turned a small snort into a cough.

  Abby covered a smile and pointed to the buttons at the top of the screen. “Just click and you can go through all the rooms and see what everything looks like.”

  “What will we do after this?” Merri asked. “Can we have a beauty makeover, Abby, like we did before?”

  “I don’t know, Merri,” Abby said, telegraphing a question to Kate. “Since the program’s not working right, there’s no reason to go to Equality, is there? You can stay the night after all, you know, for our girls’ night.”

  Kate’s face fell and she sighed. “I tried to call down there but never got anyone who seemed to know anything. That’s why I thought if we went down there in person we could—”

  Ryan put his arm around her and smiled. “Look on the bright side, Kathryn. At least we won’t have to take your new car any farther out into the boonies.”

  “Mom said we can order pizza. You can get extra cheese if you want. Abby said the delivery boy is bound to find us this time,” Merri said in a rush. “And me and Abby made Rice Krispy squares for dessert. But if you don’t like Rice Krispy squares, we can make brownies. Or snickerdoodles. John loves those. I mean he’s not a girl so he can’t come to our girls’ night, but we could save some for him. I have a really good recipe for snickerdoodles that Grandma Beulah taught me to make. Do you know how to crochet? ‘Cause I know how and maybe, if you want, I could teach you too. Or maybe we could watch movies. I have one called—”

  “Sorry, Marilyn,” Ryan inserted into the barrage of words. “I made reservations for seven at a tapas restaurant called Mosaic. For the four of us.”

  Kate put an arm around his waist. “That was thoughtful of you, Ryan,” she said, smiling adoringly up at him, as if she were imagining more stars for his chart.

  Abby tried sending another silent message, but Kate’s radar was still down. She patted Merri’s cheek and said, “Maybe some other time, kiddo. And, Ryan? Her name is Merri, not Marilyn.”

  Kate looked up suddenly as if Abby’s telegraph had finally arrived. She left Ryan’s side and went to Merri’s. “No, you’re right,” she said. “Of course, we have to have our girls’ night. We can go to Equality tomorrow. And you guys will just have to find something else fun to do.”

  Ryan smiled tightly and jingled the change in his pocket. It sounded to Abby as if he had at least ten dollars’ worth. He turned toward the doorway, and Kate went to him and took his hand. “Please, Ryan?”

  “Oh, sure. I’ll just hang out at the motel. Maybe I can get a cardboard meal from room service. It will be thrilling.”

  “You could watch a movie,” Merri suggested.

  “Good idea. I bet they have just the kind I like.”

  “I hate to ask, but where are you planning to stay?” John said. “The closest decent motel is about twenty-five miles away.”

  “It figures.”

  “Maybe you could stay here, Ryan,” Abby said. “What do you think, Merri?”

  “Well, I guess he could,” Merri said, frowning in thought. “If he stayed in the living room, we wouldn’t even notice a boy was here. We could take him some pizza and he could watch TV while we’re doing our stuff.”

  Ryan hooked his arm around Kate’s neck and pulled her close. “Yes,” he said softly into her hair, “I could stay in the living room. All night.”

  Her eyes going large, Kate turned scarlet and pulled away from him. Abby wondered at her sudden embarrassment. Even though Ambassador College had fairly strict rules about what they labeled public displays of affection, a kiss on the head seemed a mild enough P.D.A.

  “I’ve got an idea.” John’s smile was evil. “How about if I stay, too, and keep Ryan company? You probably have a few extra blankets, don’t you, Merri? Ryan and I could have a sleepover too.”

  “I guess,” Merri said. “But you’ve got to promise to stay in the living room.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” John said, staring at Ryan.

  Ryan didn’t look happy.

  Abby paused in the doorway to the living room, studying the marked difference between the solemn atmosphere there and the happy one in the kitchen she had just left.

  John and Ryan sat on the couch, watching a baseball game. The game explained their intense concentration on the TV screen. That the Cardinals were beating the Cubs six to one explained the pained look on Ryan’s face and the smug one on John’s. To give him credit, John wasn’t rubbing it in. Occasionally, he looked down at the laptop he held, as if to say the game was no big deal.

  A clanking sound and then a burst of laughter from the kitchen made the two guys look up.

  “As promised,” Abby said, stepping into the room. “Merri’s wondrous snickerdoodles. She told me to remind you to share, John.”

  John laughed. “Love the new hairdo,” he said, taking the plate of cookies from her. “One of Merri’s designs, I presume?”

  “She believes it is her destiny to be a famous hair stylist. She pronounced this her greatest masterpiece to date.” Abby batted her eyes and patted the braids that covered her head. “And just look at the manicure she gave me.” She waggled her fingers with their multi-colored nail polish.

  “Nice,” John said, grinning. He took a cookie and offered the plate to Ryan, who wordlessly frowned and waved it away.

  “Come on, don’t look so wry, Ryan,” he said. “Take a chance. A few carbs won’t kill you.”

  “No thanks. I care about my health.”

  “Suit yourself,” John said, setting the plate next to the empty pizza box on the coffee table.

  Abby figured it would be safe to bet John had polished off the whole pizza. Cheers from the Cardinals’ stadium rose to a crescendo. Ryan looked at his watch and sighed.

  “Well, I’ll leave you guys to your…fun,” Abby said. “We’ll be in the kitchen. Kate’s going to give us drawing lessons.”

  Chapter 3

  Abby realized she was awake. For no apparent reason. She started to turn over and then remembered Kate was sleeping next to her. She managed to complete the maneuver without flailing about as much she usually did and then concentrated on getting back to sleep.

  The house was completely silent. Except for the rumbling in her stomach. If only she hadn’t eaten that last piece of pizza. And that pile of cookies. And the Rice Krispy Treats. The three cans of soda weren’t helping either. Her head was hurting, too, and she vowed she would never eat junk food again. Ever. Then she was relieved to find that the headache was only from the braids grinding into her scalp. She slipped off the elastic bands, unbraided her hair, and massaged the sore spots on her head.

  Counting sheep never helped anyone fall asleep. The secret was to concentrate on sleepy thoughts. Take deep breaths. After a moment, she recognized with relief that she was drifting back to sleep. But as soon as that thought registered, it made her wake up all over again. Then John sneaked into her head and wouldn’t leave. Finally Abby opened her eyes.

  A blue light was streaming under the door into the dark room. Her eyes opened even wider.

  She slipped out from under the sheet that covered her, and, remembering at the last second not to step on Merri who slept on a twin mattress beside the bed, she put her feet carefully on the floor and stood. Even knowing it was there, she managed to trip over the mattress. Merri mumbled incoherently.

  Abby knelt beside her. “Merri,” she whispered, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up.”

  “Whaa?”

  “It’s the blue light again. Come on. Let’s go see.”

  Merri, instantly awake, scrambled awkwardly to her feet and followed Abby. The door creaked a little when she cracked it, and Abby looked back at the dim lump on the bed that was Kate. She didn’t stir, and so Abby opened the door and they went out
into the hall. She shut the door carefully. Even so, the click sounded loud in the quiet house.

  The blue light came, as she knew it would, from Merri’s computer in the room across the hall. And it meant, she hoped, that Beautiful Houses had decided to work again.

  Merri rushed eagerly ahead of her and sat down at the computer. As soon as she put her hand on the mouse, the glowing blue screen morphed to a familiar scene.

  It was the kitchen downstairs, only without electric appliances and running water. And the young woman wearing a calico dress who came into view was definitely not Merri’s mom.

  “It’s Charlotte!” Merri said. “Oh, Abby, she’s back.”

  Abby sat down next to Merri and squeezed her arm. “I have to admit, I thought we’d never see her again.”

  Colonel Miles’ daughter, Charlotte, bustled about the kitchen, her calico skirts swishing as she hurried back and forth between the chopping block work table in the center of the room and the cast iron cookstove where steam rose from a pot bubbling there.

  “She looks stressed out,” Merri said.

  “Look at the clock on the shelf. It’s almost six o’clock. About time for the train to come into the station. I wonder how many people she’ll serve today. Well, not today. That day.”

  Abby checked the date on the menu bar at the top of the computer screen. It told her they were visiting September 23, 1861.

  “Let’s go virtual,” Merri said. “I want to find out what’s happening.”

  “Wait here. I’m going to go get John.”

  “In that?” Merri said dubiously.

  Abby looked down at the skimpy knit shorts and T-shirt she wore. “Right. First, I’m going to have to sneak back into the room for some clothes. Without waking Kate.”

  “Hurry.”

  “I’ll try.”

  They had left the kitchen light on in case John or Ryan needed anything in the night, and that helped as Abby padded barefoot downstairs. However, when she got to the living room she realized that it was a long way from the kitchen, and there was not enough light for her to distinguish the furniture from the room’s occupants.

  Ryan, she knew, had claimed the couch. It was light-colored and she saw it and the blurred shape on it easily enough in the gloom. The tricky part would be finding John. Pat had brought a sleeping bag from the hall closet for him, but Abby had no idea where he had put it. Other than the soft snores coming from the vicinity of the couch, the room was completely quiet.

  She discovered the answer to her question when a hand came out of the darkness and grabbed her ankle. She stumbled and landed on a warm chest. A bare warm chest, from which came a soft whoosh of air. Right after the whoosh, a large hand covered her mouth. The precaution was unnecessary. She had recognized John’s cologne and knew in an instant that it was no nightmare monster attacking her.

  He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “What are you doing here? I thought Turner was the one planning on nighttime shenanigans.”

  Abby pulled his hand away from her mouth and tried for indignant, which was difficult when whispering. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Roberts. If I was inclined to get into your bed, and I’m not, it wouldn’t be with Ryan in the room.”

  “Well, you are in fact in my bed, and you’d better get out of it quick. I know the Bible says God will never give us any temptation stronger than what we can handle, but…”

  “Just to be clear, you are the one who dragged me into your bed, and—”

  “Abby. Please. Have pity. What is it you want?”

  If felt wonderful being in John’s arms, but she had promised him and God that she wouldn’t intentionally tempt him to break his commitment—their commitment—to abstinence.

  “Come up to the computer room,” she whispered. “There’s something you have to see.” And then she rose less than gracefully and stood looking down at him. “And don’t wake Ryan.”

  “Trust me. I have no intention of doing that.”

  “So I finally get to meet the elusive Charlotte Miles,” John said a few minutes later.

  Abby was relieved to see he was wearing a shirt. She tried not to think about what was beneath it. “Yes, although I have no idea why Beautiful Houses would suddenly start working again after all this time.”

  Merri’s eyes were glued to the screen where Charlotte was stirring the steaming pot on her cookstove, and her cousin Joshua was bolting down a bowl of stew.

  “This is the part where we found out about the gourd on the front door,” Merri said.

  “What do you mean?” John asked.

  “This house was a stop on the Underground Railroad,” Abby said. “The gourd indicated that to runaway slaves. Watch for how cool and collected Charlotte is when she’s serving the train passengers—the whole time she’s sheltering slaves in her attic.”

  “Beautiful Houses must want us to see something,” Merri said. “That’s why it started working again.”

  “I know your theory, kiddo,” Abby said, “but I’m having a hard time believing a computer program has an opinion one way or the other.”

  “Who knows,” John said. “We’ve come to believe other strange things about it. Why not artificial intelligence?”

  “I don’t mean that—what you said, John,” Merri said impatiently. “I think it’s like God wants us to know certain things. Important things that could help people. You know. Like with the Old Dears and Reuben.”

  “Well, anyway,” Abby said, “pull up a chair, John, and let’s go virtual

  Chapter 4

  Charlotte wiped the perspiration from her face and hurried to pile the fresh rolls she had baked that morning into two baskets.

  “You want me to take some of those upstairs?” Joshua asked.

  “Not yet. We can’t risk the noise.”

  When she got back to the dining room, she saw that her guests had wasted no time eating their stew and were happy for the rolls, some of which they ate and some of which they tucked into pockets for their journey.

  Unfortunately, the soldiers were in no hurry to leave. Their hunger had been assuaged, but they seemed starved for conversation and peppered her with questions about her family. When had her father founded Miles Station? Where were her husband and father fighting? What was it like running a train stop kitchen all alone? Charlotte knew their questions were friendly. Perhaps they saw in her the sister or cousin they had left behind. But she wished them gone, the sooner the better.

  “You should have more than a boy here with you, dear,” Reverend Robbins said.

  Charlotte heard a snort from the kitchen. “We’re fine,” she answered. “And I have my sisters-in-law and neighbors.”

  “Well, you be on the lookout for runaway Negroes,” he said. “A Negro will rob you as soon as look at you. And a pretty white woman like you…”

  Charlotte opened her eyes wide. “Surely, they’re not stupid enough to run, what with a bounty on their heads?”

  “And then there’s the prison sentence and a thousand dollar fine for those aiding and abetting them,” Lieutenant Hollis said with a grim glance toward her.

  “I apologize. I’m sure the citizens of Miles Station are law-abiding Christians,” Reverend Robbins said.

  “I’m sure they are,” Lieutenant Hollis said. He seemed eager to change the subject. “Do you and Mr. McGuire have children?”

  “No, we haven’t been so blessed,” Charlotte answered. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a child’s faint cry, abruptly shut off, drifted down from above.

  “What was that?” one of the soldiers asked.

  Before she could come up with an answer, Joshua stumbled into the dining room carrying the cat she had just seen in the kitchen sleeping by the stove.

  “I got her, Charlotte. Pesky thing was upstairs crying to be fed.”

  “The cat,” Charlotte said. “That’s good you brought her down then.”

  Lieutenant Hollis stood and gave her a small bow. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am.�
� He took out his wallet, as did the other men, and paid Charlotte. “My men and I will stretch our legs in the garden before we leave, if that’s acceptable.”

  Charlotte sent up a prayer of thanks. “Of course, Lieutenant.”

  She followed as the men filed out. Lieutenant Hollis paused on the porch. He glanced at the gourd dipper hanging beside the front door and then back at her. “You’d better hurry to feed your cat then.” After putting on his hat he followed the others out.

  Hand at her throat, Charlotte went back inside and locked the door behind them.

  Joshua, white-faced, stared at her. “What do we do?”

  “We feed the cat.”

  Abby paused it and turned to look at John’s reaction.

  “You’re right about Charlotte,” he said. “Man, she was brave.”

  “I’ll fast forward so we can get to the attic.”

  “Oh, a movie. What’re you watching?” Kate said from the doorway, yawning loudly. “I thought the party was over.”

  Abby nearly fell out of her chair trying to turn off the monitor before Kate got a good look at it.

  “It’s a western,” John said quickly. “You wouldn’t like it.” Then expelling a huge breath, he said, “That’s not exactly true, Kate.”

  “I think she should see it,” Merri said. “Maybe that’s why it started working again.”

  “Beautiful Houses? It’s working?” Kate said. “Oh, good. Show me.”

  Abby shot a look at John and then Merri. “Maybe there’s room for one more musketeer.” She turned to Kate. “But you’ve got to promise you won’t tell anyone, anyone, what we’re going to show you. If this gets out…well, it wouldn’t be good.”

  John went to the door and looked out into the hall. “He’s still asleep. Go ahead.”

  “Remember how I kept trying to convince you we had met Charlotte, the girl who used to live in this house? Well, we found her again.”

  “Watch this.” Merri turned the monitor back on. “See? That’s Charlotte and her cousin Joshua.”