“Miss Emmy?”
She opened one eye. Nash stared down at her, and she smiled at his worried frown. Still warmed by the joy bubbling inside, she leaned toward him and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you believe in God?”
His eyes widened. “You know I do.”
“No, I mean really believe that God exists. That He’s not just something to say grace to or an excuse to pass the offering plate. Do you think He’s actually out there somewhere ... listening when we talk?”
Nash sat up straight and narrowed his eyes. “Girl, what’s got you pondering such things? It ain’t like you.”
“Because I believe it, Nash. I really do.” She cut her eyes up at him. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
He shook his head. “I ain’t doing no laughing.”
Benjamin and Miss Lucille still crooned just over Emmy’s head. They had switched to a spiritual, singing now about crossing the Jordan, the two of them oblivious to anything else.
Emmy glanced to see if Buddy and Jerry were still asleep then scooted closer to Nash and lowered her voice even more. “Do you remember the day I crawled out the window in my nightdress?”
Nash rolled his eyes toward heaven. “How am I gon’ forget that day?”
She placed a finger to his lips to shush him. Shifting around in front of him, she continued. “Something happened to me out there in those woods. Something so bad I wanted to die from the hurt and shame.”
Suspicion erased the grin from Nash’s face. “That Clark boy spoiled you, didn’t he? Jus’ like I figured.” Murderous rage seethed in his eyes.
“No! Not that way. And keep your voice down.” After a quick look around, she continued. “What Daniel did, he did to my heart, to my soul.” The bitter taste of his name drained the joyful warmth from her heart.
“He spoiled me, all right, but with cruel words and callous indifference. The worst part is, I helped him do it. When I realized how he tricked me, used me, I was so ashamed. I hid out in the brush and prayed for the ground to swallow me whole and a fat oak tree to fall in behind me. I never wanted to draw another breath.”
Nash averted his eyes. “You ain’t got to tell me none of this.”
“Yes, I do. Daniel made it look like I chased him, wooed him away from Charity. I promise you on Mama’s life it was the other way around. Everywhere I turned, he was there. He made sport of it. He’d catch Charity not looking and wink at me or sidle up and whisper things he shouldn’t. Once he caught me alone in the kitchen and kissed me full on the mouth. He worked me that way for weeks, until he had the blood boiling in my veins.”
Nash frowned and shook his finger in her face. “Hush now. You don’t s’posed be saying such things.”
“It’s just the truth. Everyone blamed me—Mama, Charity, Aunt Bert. Even Daniel acted like he never said he loved me. Oh, Nash, I hated him so!”
Nash shifted his gaze to something over her shoulder. He grimaced and his brows shot up. “You want to be lowering your voice. You got all these folks watching you.”
Emmy realized with a start that Benjamin and Miss Lucille had stopped singing and were staring over their shoulders at her. She whirled to find Buddy raised up on one elbow and Jerry watching, bleary-eyed and openmouthed.
“Go ahead and look, all of you!” she shouted at their blurring faces. “See if I care. I’ve been gawked at all my life.”
Buddy closed his eyes and settled down. Jerry cleared his throat and turned over.
Emmy burst into tears, and Nash drew her to his shoulder. She hid her face against the rough fabric of his shirt until Benjamin and Miss Lucille returned to their song. When she finally dared to peek, Buddy slept again and Jerry, his eyes squirming and lashes fluttering, pretended to.
Unable to rest until she knew Nash understood, she peered up at him. “I didn’t want to die because of what Daniel did to me,” she whispered. “It was because I saw the darkness of my own heart. Charity, who knew me best, somehow loved me most, yet I betrayed her. I shamed my folks and hurt my aunt Bert.” She swiped her nose with the side of her hand. “Even you, Nash. I’ve treated you just awful.”
Emmy watched his face for a reaction, any sign of ridicule. Instead, he pulled a discolored hankie from his pocket and pressed it into her hand, then waited for her to continue.
“I never wanted to listen when you all talked to me about sin. It made me feel funny inside, so I closed my ears to it. But that day I saw myself as a sinner. I talked to God for the first time in my life, and He heard me. I know it, because afterwards I didn’t hurt so bad and I didn’t want to die anymore.” She shook her head. “Oh, I’m making a mess of telling this.” She gripped his hand. “Something happened to me out in that thicket. Something real.”
Nash sat taller and grinned all over. If he’d been a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging.
She wanted to stop and ask what he found so funny, but her words spilled out too fast. “When I got to the house, I was so blind-afraid of Mama, I put it out of my mind, but when I woke up the next morning, I felt different. About Daniel, about myself, about everything.”
“And here’s the strangest part,” she said, poking his arm for emphasis. “A lie don’t set easy with me at all now. When we told Mama I was in the barn with Rebel instead of in the woods, I barely got the words past my lips.”
He laughed then, and she grinned along with him but quickly sobered. “The thing I did to Charity pressed me so hard I knew I had to see her, to beg her forgiveness. That’s where I was headed the morning I ran into Daniel in town, and ... well, you know the rest.”
Nash still beamed. “That explains what’s so different about you.” He snapped his fingers. “I knowed it had to be something.”
Annoyance tickled her brow. “I’m glad you understand it. Now explain it to me.”
“Don’t you see, child? You found religion. The real kind.”
The simple words sounded so important. So final.
“I found what?”
“You found Jesus, Miss Emmy.”
She shook her head a bit to let the words sink in. “I did? Are you sure?”
Nash laughed. “I reckon the truth is, you got still long enough for Him to find you.”
Emmy fell against the splintered board behind the seat, her attention glued to his face. “If what you say is true, what does it mean?”
“It means God always gon’ be your heavenly Father.”
Papa’s stern face came to mind, and Emmy had trouble imagining how that could be a good thing.
Nash tried again. “It means you been accepted into the family of God, and you gon’ go live in heaven someday.”
Heaven. That mysterious, illusive place Mama swore Emmy would never see if she didn’t mend her ways. The prospect of missing it hadn’t bothered her one fig. Mending her ways to live in a place she’d never understood required too much energy on her part, and she’d long ago abandoned all hope of ever seeing it. “What if I don’t want to go? Why do I need to live somewhere else? If God really cares to make Emily Dane happy, he can let me live on in Humble, Texas, for all eternity.”
Nash fell back and roared with laughter.
Emmy feigned a stern look but giggled despite herself. “Now look what you’ve gone and done. You woke Mr. Pierce again.”
Nash slapped his leg and crowed louder. “I cain’t help it. You something else, Miss Emmy, and that’s the truth. How you gon’ compare those rutted trails in Humble with streets of pure gold?”
She lifted her chin. “Unless I can bust them up and spend them, what good are they?”
Nash sobered and wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. “Jus’ what you gon’ buy with your busted-up streets? Ain’t nobody got nothing for sale to measure up with what’s waiting for you in heaven. Someday you’ll know that to be true.”
A smile sweetened Buddy’s face.
Emmy smiled in return, wondering how much he’d heard. “Go back to sleep, Mr. Pierce. There’s a long ride ahead of us yet. I�
�ll try harder to keep this thoughtless man quiet.”
Buddy nodded and turned over. The still-groggy Jerry settled his head onto his arm.
Emmy closed her eyes and leaned against the backboard, trying to imagine Humble’s trampled, muddy streets paved with gold. She decided it would be a shameful extravagance and sat up prepared to say so when the look on Nash’s face stopped her cold. “Gracious, what’s wrong?”
He had to swallow first, his jutting Adam’s apple rising and falling just over her head. “Miss Emmy, we might be about to see heaven a mite sooner than we expected.” He pointed, his terrified stare fixed on something behind them.
Dread of the unknown settled in the pit of Emmy’s stomach. She tracked the line of his muscular arm to the tip of his trembling finger. At first she saw only a flurry of motion in a raised cloud of dust. As they drew nearer, she made out the silhouettes of what had to be men on horseback hastening their way, but they didn’t look quite right somehow.
“What on earth, Nash? Are those men?”
“Miss Emmy, I got me a good hunch they’s devils.” He gripped the toe of Buddy’s boot and gave it a shake. “Wake yourself, Mistah Pierce. We got company.”
Buddy came up fast, turning to look behind them to where Nash pointed. “You think they’re coming for us?”
Emmy took comfort from the strength in Buddy’s voice, but his words made her chest ache with fear. The approaching men shouted and whooped like Indians on a raid. They were near enough now to count. Six ... no, seven riders, closing fast.
Jerry, fully alert, gripped the edge of the tailgate. “We might have a delay in our trip.”
Nash scrambled to his knees and leaned forward. He rubbed his eyes hard, as if he couldn’t believe what he saw, and then rubbed them again. “Naw, suh, Mistah Ritter. We got us worse than any delay. We got a mess of pure trouble.” His voice came out strained, as if his throat had gone dry.
Buddy glanced at him. “Calm down, Nash. Probably just young bucks on a lark.”
Emmy had never seen Nash’s eyes so wide. Even the whites bulged from his face.
“Naw, Mistah Pierce, them ain’t bucks on a lark. They got sheets on they heads. We all dead men.”
Miss Lucille found her voice. Ice filled Emmy’s veins at her words, shot through with fear. “Help us,” she hissed. “Lord, help us all!”
CHAPTER 30
“Lord, help us all!”
The tortured cry rang through the parlor like a pronouncement of doom. Charity’s head jerked up. Mama hovered at the head of the stairs, the picture of overstated tragedy. Still barefoot, she had at least donned the pale blue dress Mother Dane had bought for her to wear to the wedding.
Mother Dane exchanged a quick smile with Charity before she crossed to the bottom landing. “What’s the matter now, Bertha Maye?”
Charity drew up her shoulders. Mother Dane must be feeling exceptionally brave.
Mama scowled down at her. “What do you think is the matter? I declare, you must be sleepwalking half the time.” She caught their smiles and descended the stairs in a huff, fussing and muttering the whole way.
She had never looked so nice. Charity knew Mother Dane had pinned her hair, because every strand lay perfectly in place. The lace-trimmed skirt of her new dress stood out, starched and crisp. Another of Mother Dane’s interventions, since Mama never pressed her clothes.
Still frowning, she joined them in the parlor, her busy fingers pulling at her collar and plucking at her skirt. Mother Dane slapped her hands away when she reached for her hair.
“Stop fidgeting and leave that alone. You’re determined to muss it before we get out the door. Can’t you let yourself look nice for a change?”
“I cain’t help it. I’m plain miserable trussed up like this.”
“It’s a special occasion, Bert. You can let yourself fall apart again as soon as it’s over.”
“Special?” Mama hissed. “A funeral’s an occasion, too, but I wouldn’t call it special.”
Mother Dane ignored her comment, stepping in front of the hall mirror to primp. “Where’s Emmy? I thought you said you could coax her down.”
Mama patted her piled-up hair. “I tried. Didn’t get very far. She’s still curled up in bed, pouting, by the look of it. Wouldn’t even speak to me.”
“Is that a fact?” Mother Dane balled her fists and glared up the stairs. “Well, if you’ll pardon me, ladies, by golly, I think I can persuade her out of that bed.”
Mama grabbed her sleeve. “Don’t do it, Magda.”
The storm on Mother Dane’s face blew with full fury. “This here’s Charity’s wedding day. Emmy ought to be there. Charity should mean more to her than some scalawag of a man.”
“Go easy on her now. Daniel Clark is a scoundrel, but I guess our Emmy’s in love with him. Don’t you see what that means, honey? The man of her dreams is marrying her best friend today. It’d be right cruel to make her stand and watch.”
Mother Dane faltered a bit. “Well, it don’t seem right.”
Mama took Charity’s hand. “It is right, and Charity agrees. Don’t you, honey?”
Fighting back tears, Charity nodded. “Leave her be. I understand. I really do.”
But did she? She never imagined her best friend would be absent from her wedding. Who cared if Emmy found it hard to watch? It was a miserable day for everyone concerned.
Except Daniel, of course. Somehow he always got what he wanted. Right now he wanted Charity. She had to wonder how long it would last. The one thing she knew for certain, with Emmy present or not, she would get married today. Only a miracle could save her now, and no miracles were visible on the horizon.
She put her arms around Mother Dane and Mama, her gaze going from one dear face to the other. “So that’s it, then. Let’s get going, ladies. It’s time.”
Mama pulled her close. “Oh, daughter! I can hardly bear this. It feels like doomsday.”
Charity rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. “It’s the only way, Mama. It’s God’s will, I think.”
Mama sniffled. “You don’t sound too sure.”
She made a wry face. “I’m afraid it’s the best I can do.”
Staring down at Mama’s feet, Mother Dane sighed. “I thought I felt those long toes underfoot. You going to your daughter’s wedding without shoes, Bertha?”
“ ’Course not. What do you think I am, some loutish hick? My boots are on the back porch. I left them there last night after I fed the chickens.”
“Bertha!”
“Well, I couldn’t bring them in after I stomped around in the coop. They was covered in poo. I’ll slip into them on the way out the door.”
Mother Dane held her ground. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“Why? They’re dry now. A little beating and scraping should take care of the droppings.” She rubbed her chin. “Ain’t much I can do about that smell though.”
Mother Dane gaped at Mama, her jaw slack.
A giggle rippled in Charity’s chest, exploding into a laugh. She doubled over and laughed so hard she couldn’t tell if mirth or madness had taken her—and she didn’t care. First Mama, then Mother Dane caught it and howled along with her. The three of them clung together in the middle of the parlor, gasping for breath and struggling to hold each other up.
Mama straightened first, her face a broad grin. “We’d better take care now. Last time this happened we ended up bawling.”
Charity struggled to compose herself. She stood up, smiling and wiping her eyes. “Not this time, Mrs. Bloom. Only happy tears allowed on my wedding day.”
At the stricken look on both their faces, she hurriedly explained. “Listen, you two, my fate is in God’s hands. I’m all right with that. If God doesn’t want me to marry Daniel Clark, it won’t happen. Can’t you put your faith there, too?”
Mama gazed up at her and nodded, then whispered the words she had uttered from the top of the stairs, only this time they were more of a prayer. “God, help us. God, h
elp us all.”
Mother Dane snatched Mama’s arm and turned her around. “You march up those stairs and put on the shoes I bought for you.”
“They hurt my feet.”
“Too bad. You’re not wearing smelly boots to your daughter’s wedding. Now go. We’ll wait for you in the rig.”
The mention of the wagon seemed to remind Mother Dane of another weighty cross she bore. “Blast that infernal hired man of mine. He should be here to drive us into town today. I can’t help but wonder where he could be.” She released a long, shuddering sigh. “After all these years ... well, I just don’t understand it, that’s all. I guess I’ll never forgive Nash for the way he’s let me and Emmy down.”
***
“Miss Emmy!” Nash shouted. “Get yourself up under that seat!”
For once the girl seemed too scared to argue. Nash would be sure to thank the good Lord just as soon as they were out of this mess. He only hoped he wouldn’t be thanking Him in person. Miss Emmy scrambled under the buckboard seat, and Nash covered her in burlap bags.
“Benjamin, hand your mama back this way so’s I can get her hid.”
Mr. Ritter shot forward to help Miss Lucille swing her legs past her son. Together, he and Nash pushed her down to lie beside Emmy.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Nash said softly before he spread a smelly bag over her face.
Mr. Pierce turned from watching the riders close the gap between them. He nodded toward the women. “I’m not sure how much good that’ll do. They’ve seen them by now.”
Ignoring him, Nash whirled toward young Benjamin “Son, you best drive this rig like you ain’t never drove before.” Though he shouted, his voice echoed in his ears like it came from the bottom of a rain barrel. He skittered up behind the boy’s tense back and yelled louder. “Don’t you stop no matter what. You hear me now?”
Benjamin answered by laying his whip across the lead horse’s flank. The animal leaped forward and strained at the harness, his hooves pounding the hard-packed trail. The other horse had no choice but to speed up, too.
They hit a rut that nearly tossed everyone over the sides, bringing a loud wail from one of the women. The next hole was worse, and the sharp crack of splitting wood came from under the bed.
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