Through The Eyes Of Bea 51y5v

Through the Eyes of

Bea

Based on a True Story

by

Samanthya Wyatt

Through the Eyes of Bea Copyright©2016 SAMANTHYA WYATT

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This book is a true story based on the memories of a featured character. Names have been changed to protect the identity of characters, families and places. Incidents are real and portrayed as best as could be with the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, could be entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication in whole or in part may be used for reproduction or utilization in any form, including stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. Except for the use of written reviews.

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Published in the United States of America ISBN: 978-1535032650

Dear Reader,

“For years, I’ve said to my family, no one would believe us if we told the things that happened at our house. Back in my day, things like this didn’t happen. At least no one heard of these things, or was stupid enough to it to any such goings-on. We had six kids at our house. We lived on a farm and when I say we walked a mile to catch a school bus, we did. You see a lot of stuff on television today. Things I can’t believe they would ever show on TV. I guess, pretty much anything goes, as they say. But this story was my life, nearly 100 years ago. Things were hushed. Private. Hidden. A girl’s personal time of the month was secret. And certainly never talked about. It just was. You took care of your business and it was never mentioned out loud. ‘What went on behind closed doors’ usually meant it was nighttime and everyone went to bed. To sleep. No one, EVER, alluded to—sex. Samanthya and I spent many hours together. Some of those hours were while my husband was in the hospital and we sat over lunch. I would tell her some things that happened, and every now and then I would shake my head and think – no one would believe us. She wants me to call her Sam, asked me many questions and I enjoyed telling her stories of my life. I live alone now, my husband ed years ago. When Samanthya told me she wanted to write a book, I didn’t take her seriously, but I smiled at the thought. On my 90th birthday, I fell and broke my foot. While I recuperated at my daughter’s house, I had a lot of time to think. So I decided if Samanthya was serious, it was time to get down to business. My daughters were surprised to hear some of my tales. When Samanthya came for her visits, she was thorough with her questions. My girls would in the discussion and they’d ask questions, too. I’d shake my head in remembrance, but it felt good to share my stories. I relived each of those moments. When I think back, I am a bit staggered. It’s not easy to it or explain things that happened to me as a child, openly share incidents that went on in my home. Things seem a lot clearer now. I didn’t have any idea then. Samanthya left me paper and her autographed pens to jot down any thoughts or things I might . I’d talk, my daughter would write notes, and I eagerly looked forward to Samanthya’s next visit.

Fortunately, time does go on. For me I’ve been blessed to have married, and raised two daughters. I have three grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren, some old enough to give me another generation. Grief, sorrow, strength and endurance—all the things I see when I . But we kids had some fun times, too. Not everyone will believe, and no one would have believed this back in my day, but these are my memories, and this was my life.”

DBB Age 90 January 11, 2016

Prologue

A little farm buried in the Virginia mountains

Her family home. Bea Baldwin stood unmoving, staring at the old two-story house where she grew up. The white boards had turned dull with age, overgrown bushes hid the fence around the yard, and it would take several trips with a lawn mower to cut through the tall grass. On the front side of the house, flowers had grown into weeds, some places so thick it would take a sickle to get to the steps. She smiled as she saw the porch swing, the only item remaining within the wooden railing. Seeing the old homeplace made her smile some, but a twinge of sadness remained in her soul. Her family had been biologically connected, but the emotional turmoil scattered them all in different directions. Their hardships made them stronger. At least, that is what she believed. It was difficult to acknowledge the incidents of the past had led to a deserted farm. Her mom, her dad, her sister and all of her brothers were gone—except one, and he’d made his home in Texas. Every house had memories, stories to tell. She steeled herself for the emotions she knew would swamp her, and stepped onto the side porch. Pushing the past away, she inserted the key into the lock. A wave of nostalgia hit her as she crossed the threshold. So different, and yet the same. A coal stove stood where the old wood stove had been. A couch lined one wall, the buffet cabinet on the other, and Dad’s secretary fit in one corner. To the left was the dining room with a large table. Many a night she and her siblings sat at that table doing their lessons with only an oil lamp for light. She could almost hear the sounds of the past, her sister and brothers, their play, their squabbles. Bitter sweet memories. Her eyes burned.

She didn’t come here to cry. But then, what had she expected? She shook off her dejection and turned to the right, heading to the main living area and stopped at the ed doorway. She ran her aged and wrinkled hand along the frame where the two houses had been ed to make one. The wood structure so strong it would most likely last a few more lifetimes. Her hand securely on the thick slat of wood for balance, she took the step up into the living room. A few photographs hung on one wall, the huge mirror suspended over the fireplace. Claw-footed chairs and an upholstered loveseat to match were tactically placed facing the fireplace. One step to the right brought her to the doorway leading upstairs. She stood at the bottom of the stairway unable to force herself to climb the steps. Other than melancholy holding her back, she shouldn’t consider tackling those steps on her own. For her age, she was in pretty good health. No need to tempt fate. She’d had precious few broken bones and did not care to have anymore. Besides her girls would fuss. She shuffled through the living room past a long sofa to her mother’s favorite rocking chair. She ran her fingers over the surface, smooth from lots of wear, then eased her weary bones onto the cushion lying on the rocker and rested her head on the wooden back. Another wave of sadness ran through her as she mourned those bygone years. She’d heard so many stories. And she ed a lot, too. But her growing up years were so confusing. So many things that just didn’t make sense. She thought about them now, trying to piece together the stories with her recollections. Flashbacks, memories, the past years rolled through her mind like a movie . . .

Chapter One

1925 Shenandoah Mountains

Jeremiah Baldwin shoved the windshield of his old Model T down with a bang. The wind whipping his hair, he focused on the curving road in front of him, his arms tense as blood pumped through his veins. The thrill of running the toll-gate increased his excitement—and anxiety. He only hoped he caught Hancock with his guard down. The man was never without a shotgun. “Get ready to duck, Harold.” “Jeremiah, slow down. You gotta pay the toll.” “I paid it coming up.” Harold was a big man with muscles of iron. If he gripped the dash any tighter, he was bound to leave dents in the metal. “You’re gonna get us killed,” he yelled into the wind. “Just hunker down.” As Jeremiah took the next curve he saw the gate barring the road. His shoulders relaxed a bit when he saw Hancock sitting on a downed log, his shotgun leaning to one side. Still too close for Jeremiah’s comfort. But Hancock wouldn’t really use it. Not on him. Today, he didn’t have time to jaw and tease the man. He didn’t have time to explain why he needed to hurry. Maggie was heavy with child and this was their first. Another flurry of excitement hit his chest—this one so very different. He was going to be a father. He reared back his shoulders and puffed out his chest just thinking of a new baby in the house. Boy or girl, didn’t matter to him. When Maggie had told him, he could have danced on air. Naw, he wouldn’t use his first born as an excuse to avoid the toll. He was a hard

working farmer and money was scarce. He’d already paid coming up the dang mountain. Wasn’t fair he had to pay twice. Jeremiah took the curve as fast as the automobile’s tires would roll. A mite too fast, especially with an iron bar stretched across the road and the car headed straight for it. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Here we go. “Duck!” he yelled. He and Harold both hunkered down. He could only imagine the comical sight of the Model T driving under the bar with no driver. Even more funny would be the surprise on Hancock’s face. As soon as they were clear, Jeremiah popped back up. He turned a glance over his shoulder to see an angry man with his fist pumping the air. “Watch where you’re going!” Harold yelled. “You’re gonna drive off the mountain.” Jeremiah laughed. He’d done it. It wasn’t long before Harold’s laughter ed his own. “Come on, now Harold. You weren’t really worried were you?” Harold turned, looking him dead in the eye. “Your driving scares me more than Hancock’s shotgun.” “He’d propped it to the side. He doesn’t use that gun on anything but squirrels.” “How could you see anything with your head down in the seat?” Harold shook his head as his lips curved into a smile. “Haven’t had a thrill like that in a long while. Gets the blood pumping.” He slapped Jeremiah on the back, nearly shoving him over the steering wheel. Jeremiah kept his gaze straight ahead. Holding the wheel with one hand, he reached for the windshield with the other, and Harold helped him latch it into place. “Nice trick, that.”

Jeremiah nodded, thankful the bar barricading the road wasn’t any lower. “So how is Maggie doing? She should be birthing that babe any day now.” Jeremiah’s thoughts turned to Maggie and her swollen belly. An image formed of her hands on her back as she waddled to the stove. “She was uncomfortable this morning. That’s why I’m in a rush.” “Was she having any pains?” “Some in her back. But she said her belly was fine. Still . . .” He took the last curve just before the straight stretch of road. He pushed the gas pedal as far down as it would go. The wind in his hair only added to his excitement. “Well, man. You might be a father before the night is over.” The one-room schoolhouse came into view alerting him to the next junction— the road leading to his farm. Jeremiah took the turn so fast he thought the right wheels might have come off the ground. There was Harold, gripping the dash again. “You want to get home in one piece don’t you?” asked Harold. “And you still have to let me out at my place.” “Unless you want to jump.” Harold’s head swung to face him. “It might be safer than riding with you.” “Don’t worry. I’ll get you home.” A few minutes later, Jeremiah spun the car in a circle in front of Harold’s house with dirt flying from the tires. Next stop, home. He wondered if Maggie would have their baby this night. He shot from the lane to the road, eager for the next turnoff to his property. He didn’t realize how tense he’d grown until he gasped for air. Good Lord. Was he holding his breath? His lips curved into a big smile.

I’m coming Maggie. I can’t wait to meet my son or daughter.

***

The last few hours had been harrowing, but Maggie had given him a fine daughter. Beatrice. A baby girl. Healthy. Blue eyes. Aunt Josie, the colored midwife, said all babies have blue eyes. That’s just not true. His little girl had blue eyes. The prettiest baby he’d ever seen. And she belonged to him. Jeremiah and his grandfather, George Washington Baldwin, sat on the porch in silence. Most folks called him GW. Jeremiah called him Papa. The full moon streamed a silvery glow over the land casting the mountains in shadow. How he loved the evenings where he could relax and think of the day’s blessings. Crickets sang, and a few animals roamed the woods making their presence known. Yet, quiet centered around him bringing peace and contentment. He was happy with his lot in life. The women were settled inside for the night. Often, he and GW sat in the evenings, just like this. They could sit for hours on the porch enjoying the silence night after night, letting the peace seep into their bones, allowing the calm to settle their minds. And when the weather chased them indoors, they gathered around the fireplace gazing into the flames. With his pipe in his hand, GW struck a matchstick and brought the flame to the corncob end. Jeremiah watched the flame dance and flicker as GW drew air into his lungs. The tobacco torched and GW flicked his hand, dousing the flame out. Jeremiah studied his grandfather. Even without words, he knew the man had something on his mind. He didn’t ask. No, that would be interrupting his thoughts. GW had fathered fifteen children and each one of them knew when to speak and when not to. Not only had the man taught them manners, he expected each of his children to show respect. And his children taught their children the same values. Life on a farm was hard work. He raised cattle, sheep, pigs and was the only blacksmith for miles around. Even though he was up in years, GW was ired by many, and the man was as strong as a bull.

“Tomorrow, we take the sheep to market. While I’m in Stanley, maybe I’ll pick up a few things for Matilda at McNulty’s store.” His grandfather and grandmother did not display their affection for others to see. But the fact that GW wanted to pick up something for his wife was a sure sign he still had a fondness for the woman. Even after fifteen children together, although two died in infancy. Several years ago, five of GW’s sons caught a train to Illinois. There wasn’t much for them to do around here. They had hopped in a railroad car like hobos, headed west to make their fortune. They got as far as Illinois. And it paid off. They each got a parcel of land to work. All the boys made a good life, married and had families, raising them on their new farms. Things sounded so good that a few years later three of their sisters and another brother took off to their siblings. Only three sons and one daughter remained—one of the boys being Jeremiah’s father. The girls who had hopped on a train wrote back and tried to get their little sister, Sally, to go, but she’d had her eye on a boy, and now they were married. Two of the brothers, Delmar and AJ, lived up the road with their own families. For years they had walked while herding their stock to market. “Sure is nice having a truck to drive.” At his grandfather’s frown, Jeremiah quickly added, “I’m not complaining, Papa. All that walking gives a man strong legs. It’s just that it took two days to go to Stanley and two days back.” The last two years he’d been old enough to go along when they took their stock to Stanley. Papa drove a wagon, but the men had to walk with the sheep. “We spent the night at the relay station.” Yep, old man Martin and his grandfather were good friends. “Still, we were up before dawn. Herding sheep and a el of turkeys in the dark, hard to keep up with them all.” “We did it for years and you done it for two.” “You have to it that going over and back in the same day sure is nice. We get a right smart number of sheep in the cattle truck.” “Took business away from the relay station. Martin don’t cotton to losing a

night’s lodgin’.” Years past, Papa would spend the night at the relay station. Now, even though they didn’t stay overnight, Papa still stopped to see his friend. “Is that why you stop and give him your buckwheat?” Papa nodded. “He don’t take no handouts. So he collects his part by thrashing the wheat and taking it to the mill. Then he delivers the seed, flour and feed for our livestock. Everyone has a hand in the process and he can still make a nickel.” They sat in silence for several moments before his grandfather spoke again. “Well, son, you got a new young’un. Makes a man right proud when his first is born.” “She sure is tiny.” “The tenant house is fine for now. Soon, you’ll be wanting to add a room to that cabin.” He took a puff off his pipe, then angled his chin. Rings of smoke floated into the air. “Yer grandma and me been thinking. We’re gettin’ old, and a mite lonely at our house. When the time comes, I might be needing some help. I still got my shop and my blacksmith’s tools, but the farm takes a lot of my time. You got a contract with the Highway Department using your truck. But you’ve been a big help to me and your grandma. You work hard and I’m right proud of you.” Jeremiah’s chest lifted at his grandfather’s praise. Taking care of the farm was hard work. He was glad GW noticed, and GW’s commendation meant the world to him. “Like I said, me and your grandma will be needing more help.” GW chewed on the end of his pipe. “If you and Maggie move in with us, I’m thinking of giving a piece of this place to you.” Jeremiah didn’t know what to say. Sure, one day he expected to have his own land. Maybe inherit his father’s portion and buy some of his own. All kinds of notions spun through his head of the things he could do with his own land.

“Mighty generous of you, Papa.” “Generous ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. You’ve earned it.” “Thanks, Papa.” Jeremiah couldn’t keep the surprise and excitement from his voice. “Delmar and AJ already have their spots. Course, I think they’d rather be someplace else. Land belongs in the family. it down from generation to generation.” When GW grew quiet again, Jeremiah tried to absorb the wondrous news, and allowed his mind to wander. Of course, he would take care of his grandfather. And he loved working the farm. He loved the land. The lower section belonging to his uncles was about the same size as the property up here at the house, give or take fifty acres. Plenty of timber in the forest, meadows for planting, game for hunting. Cows, sheep, pigs, guineas, chickens. Yep. He could make a good life for his family. He wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when GW spoke again, wrenching Jeremiah from his thoughts. “What ya thinkin’, boy?” “Thinking of all the plans I have for this place. I want to buy a cattle truck, Papa. Haul cattle to the stockyard. A lot of people don’t have a way to get their livestock to market. I could provide transportation. I’d be helping them and they would pay me to take their animals.” “What are you going to do about the truck you use when you contract for the Highway Department?” “I’ve got that figured out. I’ll hire a man to drive it. I’m gonna get a dump truck, too. May take a few years, but I’ll save my money, and I know I can make a dollar if I get more trucks. Bob Hiner could use a job, and if I get things going, I can hire more men.” GW gave a thoughtful nod. Thank goodness, he was willing to listen. Usually the older generation was set in their ways, but Papa seemed to like the idea. And Jeremiah wanted his grandfather’s approval.

“Well? What do you think?” “You’re a man now. You don’t need advice. Make your own decisions.” He flipped the pipe over and dumped out the ash. “Maybe your boys will remain and help you work the land.” That was the only reference his grandfather had made regarding his feelings of his children leaving the farm and making their home in another state. Maybe Papa wished his sons had stayed here with him. Boys? He and Maggie were bound to have more children. Lots of them.

Chapter Two

1933

The entire family had been up since dawn loading what they could carry out to the old truck. Bea was tired, but excited, too. With Grandpa and Grandma gone, the big house was empty. A section of their little tenant house had crumbled, so they were moving the remaining portion to the old dwelling on the hill. Dad said he was ing the two houses together. He said their family was growing and they needed more room. She had three brothers and Mama also had another girl, so Bea figured they didn’t need to grow any more. Although, it would be nice to sleep in a bed she wouldn’t have to share with her siblings. If you could call quilts on the floor a bed. Mr. Heavener had made a real bed. Said he was giving it to them for her and her sister. Wood posts with straps to hold a mattress. Mama sewed some cloth for a feather tick and Bea helped to stuff it. She couldn’t wait. Several of the neighbors had come to help. Horses snorted, men shouted and Dad made the kids stay in the big house on the hill, while he was smack dab in the middle of all the commotion. “Yah.” Dad slapped leather across the horses’ backs. He had four work horses, but the team he drove now had the two browns with a smart splash of white down the center of their snouts. The harness around their necks placed the weight of the load onto the horses’ shoulders. It looked kind of funny, but Dad explained how it allowed the animals to use their full weight for added strength. The poor beasts would need all their muscles to pull the house up the hill. Their hooves pawed the ground while air puffed out through their noses. Bea was glad to watch from a distance. Keeping the children out of the way, Mama had taken them on up to Grandpa’s house. With their noses plastered against the glass, Bea and her siblings watched the men work. Dad would not even let them stand on the porch. He didn’t want

them in the way. If they were indoors, there would be no chance of someone getting hurt. When Dad spoke, they knew to listen. Chains clanged as the men hooked the beasts to the huge logs tipping one side of the little house. A big tractor truck with lots of wheels had a long flatbed. The men slapped the reins on the harnesses, yelled instructions, and maneuvered the horses in turning the house. Bea propped Lucy up at the window so she could see. Together they watched the structure be pulled over logs onto the truck flatbed. At least the horses wouldn’t have to lug the house up the hill. Bea’s breath caught as Dad swung a heavy iron gadget over his head, then slammed it down on a log. He was strong. All the men were strong. Looking at her father made her proud. “What are they doin’, Bea?” Her little brother, Freddy, pressed his nose and his hands on the window. “They’re moving the house up the hill.” “To Gammy and Gampa’s?” “Yes. Dad is gonna hook that one to this one.” She moved her finger pointing to the small shack and then held her hand out indicating the house they stood in. “Why’s he doin’ that?” “So we can have a bigger house,” cried Razz. He was older than Freddy, but younger than Charles. Freddy looked at his brother. “Is it gonna grow?” “No silly,” Razz answered. “Houses don’t grow.” “I’m not silly,” Freddy rolled his bottom lip into a pout. “Mind what you say, Razz,” Mama scolded. “With the cabin hooked to the big house, we’ll have more space. You boys can have your own room.” “Ya mean without girls?” Razz asked.

“Yes. Without girls,” Mama gave him a big smile. “Know what the best part is?” Bea asked her brothers. “What?” Freddy and Razz chimed at the same time. “Your room is at the top of the stairs.” “We got a room upstairs? I gotta see.” The two younger boys bounded off, but before they got three steps, Mama shouted. “Stop right there! You have to stay in this room. I don’t want you boys out of my sight till the house is settled and that truck is not moving.” “Aw, Mom.” Freddy dropped his head. Razz just rolled his eyes like he always did. “Never mind that now. You’ll see soon enough.” Mama herded Freddy and Razz back to the window. Bea drew their attention away from their disappointment. “We have two rooms upstairs. And me and Lucy get a big bed all to ourselves.” “I don’t care if we are on the floor. At least there won’t be no girls,” Charles said. Bea wondered when her oldest brother would add his two cents. Freddy’s face turned into a frown. “You’re not sleeping on the floor? Is your bed gonna be in the air? Like a swing?” Bea shook her head at her little brother’s imagination. “No. Mr. Heavener took tree logs and made us a bed.” Freddy turned to their mother. “Like yours?” Mama nodded yes. “Can we have one, too?” Razz jumped up and down on a chair next to the window. “Sit still, Razz.”

“How come Bea gets a bed and we don’t?” Charles asked. “Cause she’s a girrrl,” Razz said. “You boys are getting a bed, too,” Mamma told Charles. “You can have our bed. Me and Dad’s.” “We’re getting Dad’s bed?” Razz started jumping again. He whooped and hollered with glee. “Where you gonna sleep?” Freddy asked. “You and Dad gonna sleep with us?” “No, we’ve got Gammy and Gampa’s bed.” Bea shook her head. Once Freddy got started, his questions were endless. “Know what?” Bea stared down at her little brother. “Mama and me made a new feather tick. We’ll put that on your bed and you’ll be real cozy.” When Lucy grew limp in Bea’s arms, she realized her little sister had fallen asleep. Which showed how long the brood had been standing at the window. “They’re coming to the side,” Charles yelled and took off to Mom and Dad’s new bedroom, Razz and Freddy right behind him. Confining three rowdy boys in the house with so much excitement outside could only last so long. When the men stopped for lunch, the boys bolted out the door. Mama yelled and told them to stay away from the horses. Bea skipped off the porch and went to find her dad. “I been to many a log-rollin’s, but this here’s the first time I hooked two houses together.” Mr. Armstrong slapped leather across his horse’s back. “Heave, you hulkin’ grazers. That’s it. Giddy up.” “The animals are doing most of the work. We don’t have to split no logs or build the cabin. House is already standin’.” Mr. Heavener stood with his hands on his hips and just stared at the big house. “At least we kept it in one piece.” Dad slapped Mr. Heavener on the back.

“You got the chain secure?” Mr. Heavener called out to the truck driver. Then he stepped to the flatbed and grabbed some chains. “Let’s have a bite to eat before we hitch up the teams again,” Dad told the men. Mr. Armstrong and another man led the horses over to the fence and tied the leads to a post. Charles, Razz and Freddy were allowed near the horses only if Mr. Armstrong stood with them. The boys gave the teams water while Mama served tenderloin sandwiches. Bea brought a jug of water. “Thanks, Bea.” Mr. Heavener smiled as she handed him a mason jar filled with water. “Mighty good loin, Maggie,” Mr. Armstrong said to Mama. “Thank you, Geoffrey. I’ll be sure to send some home to Gwelda.” “That’d be mighty nice.” “Can’t thank you men enough for helpin’ me out today,” Dad said. “What do I owe ya?” “Now, Jeremiah. We ain’t even got the houses hooked together yet and you’re already talking about paying us.” Mr. Armstrong glared at Dad, but Bea knew he wasn’t mad. “That’s right,” Mr. Heavener added. “Besides. You’re always doing things for us. You didn’t even charge me for the hogs you took to market last week.” “You paid me for the bull.” “That was three weeks ago.” “How you gonna stay in business if you don’t charge for your hauling?” Mr. Armstrong asked. “Well, now, that’s what I do. I’m just being neighborly.” “That’s what we’re doing.” Mr. Armstrong’s eyes flashed. “Being neighborly.” Dad took off his hat and scratched his head. Finished with the horses, the boys

came over and plopped on the ground. “Got one for me, Mama?” She took one look at Freddy, then her brow rose in a frown. His hands were brown with dirt. “Wipe your hands on that rag.” Razz reached around Mama’s shoulder and grabbed two sandwiches. “Now stop that.” She swatted at his hands. “You wash up, too.” Razz just grinned and strutted over to a fence post. Climbing on top, he stuffed half the bread into his mouth. Bea laughed as his cheeks puffed out. He’d probably choke. “Go get your sister, Bea. Wake her up so she can eat with us.” Bea went into the big house and sure enough, Lucy was still asleep. “Come on, Honey.” Lucy’s eyelids flickered as Bea gently lifted her up. “Bea?” “Yes.” “Whatcha doin’?” “Time to eat.” She propped Lucy on her hip and went back outside. Good thing Mama made plenty of sandwiches. The men ate three apiece. Those were pretty big sandwiches, because Mama sliced the homemade bread real thick. Bea could hardly eat for the butterflies in her stomach. She could hardly wait to see her and Lucy’s new bed. The men went back to work. Mama rounded the children up and took them to the hay meadow. She knew the boys needed to be outside. Bea and Lucy watched while the horses pulled their old home against the big one. When the big truck left and the horses were turned loose in the field, the kids were allowed back in the house. A door had been removed from the side of each house providing an opening. The open doorways of the two dwellings were

aligned so a person could step from one house right into the other. Mr. Heavener helped Dad slap goo between the logs where the two houses came together and Mr. Armstrong hammered some boards covering up the cracks. The day went by pretty quick, and before she knew it Dad was ready to load up her new bed. The stairway to the second floor was narrow and too small to get furniture in there. So Dad used the tractor to haul stuff up to the roof. Mr. Heavener rode in the tractor bucket while Dad worked the controls. Once their neighbor got on the roof, he removed the upstairs bedroom window while Mr. Armstrong and Dad loaded the heavy wooden frame into the tractor bucket. Once again, Dad raised the lever and the bucket rose to the roof. Razz and Charles climbed up on the roof like a couple of monkeys. Bea held her breath as she watched them lift her new bed and carry it to the open window. Mr. Armstrong climbed inside, reached out for the bed, then pulled it through. Bea wanted to dance a jig. Tonight they would sleep in their new home.

***

The screen door slammed behind Jeremiah as he stepped out of the sun into the cool house. He’d spent most of the day at the stockyard. Heavener bought a calf that had been rejected by its mama. It didn’t take long at all to drop the calf off at its new home. He took his hat and placed it on a peg below the shelf on the wall. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, he rolled the sleeves as he marched through the dining room to the kitchen. He grabbed the dipper and took a big gulp of cold, spring water. Then he dipped more into the wash pan sitting on the stove. Grabbing a bar of soap, he scrubbed his hands and arms. “Jeremiah?” “Yes, Maggie. I’m in the kitchen washing up.”

“Come see what I got.” He grabbed a towel from the wall. “Be right there.” He dried his hands and ran his fingers through his damp hair. Better go see what the woman wants. As he stepped up into the living room in the new section of his house, he gaped. “Look! Isn’t it beautiful?” Maggie’s face flashed brighter than a lit match. Jeremiah gave a whistle. He thought to tease his wife a bit. “You think we need another table, Maggie?” “A table! I think you better take another look see.” He tugged his ear and acted like he was thinking. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know Maggie. What is it?” She bristled and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Why Jeremiah Baldwin. You know darn well what it is.” When she looked back at her new organ sitting in the living room, her face lit up as bright as the morning sun. “It’s mine.” Jeremiah chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you’re so happy. Where did you get it?” “Gwelda said Madeline knew a man who had an organ. His wife ed, nobody knew how to play it and he didn’t want it. “What about his children? Don’t they want it?” “They live a long ways from here.” Her fingers smoothed along the ivory keys. “I been wanting one. Now we have room for it.” Jeremiah glanced about taking in the claw-footed chairs and matching canopy. He’d added his own comfortable chair and sofa which took up most of the space. Still, there was plenty of room for Maggie’s new organ. “Looks right fine. When did you plan all this? I left early this morning, but I only been gone for the day.” “As soon as Gwelda told me about it, I told her I wanted it. I knew we had the room now. So she told Madeline.”

“I guess she told . . . who is this man?” “Fella up in Franklin. A Mr. Halterman.” “How did you get it here?” “He’s a logger. Drives logs across the mountain up to Lexington. Said he would drive it right over.” “What about payment, Maggie? We got to pay the man.” Maggie waved a hand. “Oh, it’s all taken care of. Such a nice man. Big fella, too. And loud. Said he could use a cow.” “A cow!” “Calm down. I know a cow is too much. I offered him a calf or a pig. He agreed. So,” she spread her hands wide, “I got my organ.” “So you did, Maggie. So you did.” His wife traded a calf for an organ. Jeremiah wondered which one of them thought they got the better deal. Oh well, if his wife was happy, and this Halterman feller was happy, that’s all that mattered. “Have you tried it out yet?” “I’ve been iring it so, I . . . gosh, I can’t stop looking at it.” The wooden case stood probably six feet tall; as tall as Jeremiah. The man who made this piece sure knew how to carve a block of wood. There was a shelf at the top, and a holder for music and such. He put his finger up to trace the material in the carved grooves. Red velvet lined the back and surrounded the carvings in front of the keys. His gaze traveled over the wooden base, with lots of grooves, angles, and knobs, and further down to the carpeted block pedals. “It looks very nice.” “Oh, and look here, Jeremiah.” She reached down and grabbed a well-worn

book. “It’s a beginner’s book.” She read the title. “School for the Pianoforte by Theo. Presser. It’s for students. And it’s part of a series.” Jeremiah had never seen his wife so happy. It made him feel good.

Chapter Three

1934

Golden rays of sunshine beamed down from the heavens. A good day for the children to be outside. Especially now that Bea had a new baby brother. The older boys always ran wild and her three-year-old sister was full of energy. So after the dinner dishes were washed, Bea took her siblings outside to play. Bea lifted Lucy onto a flat piece of lumber resting catty-cornered on a log. “Put your hands here,” Bea said while she showed her little sister where to hold on. “I can do it,” Lucy squealed excitedly. “I gonna ride seesaw. “Yes, Lucy. You’re going to ride the seesaw.” When Lucy’s little hands gripped the wood, Bea held on to her tiny waist. Then she glanced at her brother. “Now, Razz. You hold the board and don’t jump on till I get Lucy settled.” Razz rolled his eyes. “You say that every time. I’m a waitin’.” “Okay, climb on.” Razz threw a leg over the opposite end and jumped on. The board dove to the ground, nearly shooting Lucy up to the clouds in the sky. Bea tightened her hands on Lucy, a rebuke on the edge of her tongue, when her sister’s peals of laughter rang in Bea’s ears. “Again. Again. Do it again.” Razz looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Land hard on your butt?” Bea teased. He shot her a frown and pushed with his feet. Dad had made a stand for the log to give the teeter-totter some height. The boys tried piling more logs together to make it higher, but that didn’t work. Those rascals would try anything. “Weee. Weee. Again, Razz.” Bea held on to her little sister so she wouldn’t fall off. “You ain’t big enough to do it?” Charles yelled, so that meant her brothers were on the verge of fighting again. “Am too,” Freddy yelled back. “Bea! Charles won’t let me play Jack Rocks.” Normally Charles and Razz played together, since they were closer in age. But she needed Razz to help her with the seesaw. Bea tried distracting Freddy with a new idea. “How about you dig for worms?” That should make Freddy happy. He loved digging in the dirt. Next thing she knew, he and Charles both were digging in the soft earth beside the woodpile. “Look, Charles. I got a big one.” “We’re gonna have to come out after dark to get more night crawlers. The dirt can on the porch is getting’ low. We need more.” “Paw ain’t gonna let us come out too late.” “I think you boys will find plenty of worms right here,” Bea said. “I’ve got half my can filled up.” Freddy climbed from his spot on the ground and scuffled over to Bea. “Look.” “I wanna see.” Lucy twisted around, letting go of the board. Bea grabbed her and the board went flying up with the other end sailing down. Hard. Razz yelled, then hopped up rubbing his bottom. “That’s not fair. That’s two times I landed on my butt. It stings.”

Freddy laughed so hard he nearly dropped his can of worms. “Uh oh,” Lucy put her finger in her mouth. “It’s all right, Lucy. Razz is fine.” Even if the scowl on her brother’s face suggested otherwise. Lucy squirmed to get down. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she ran and plopped on the ground beside Charles. “I want to dig.” She immediately pawed at the dirt. “You’re a girl.” “So. I can dig.” “Girls don’t like worms.” Being the oldest of the boys, Charles liked bossing the others around. He’d said that because he didn’t want Lucy bothering him. He thought her too little to be dogging his heels. “I do, too.” She dug furiously. Bea shook her head thinking of what her mother would say when Lucy got back to the house looking like she’d been in the hog pen. When the time came for baths tonight, Lucy wasn’t going in the tub first. They’d need more buckets of water if all the kids had a bath. “Look! I got one!” “Don’t squish it. Put it in the can.” Freddy opened the lid and held the tin for a proud Lucy. She squealed. “You dropped it.” “He wiggled out of my fingers.” “Well . . . get him,” Freddy ordered. None of her siblings were squeamish, but her brothers weren’t exactly considerate, either. Freddy treated Lucy just like another brother. “I’m trying. He’s going back in the ground.” A huge smile covered Lucy’s face

as she captured her prize and shoved it into the can. Freddy smacked the lid closed. Bea cringed when Lucy turned. There must have been more dirt caked on her smiling face than hoarded in the tin can. “You can’t go fishing no way,” Charles said to Lucy. Bea wanted to smack her brother. Why couldn’t he leave it alone? “I can, too.” “No you can’t. You’re too little.” Lucy’s lip started to tremble and she looked at Bea with tears in her eyes. Some days, Bea wanted to pull out her own hair. Instead, she reached for Lucy. But one look at her soiled clothes and Bea changed her mind real quick. “Why can’t we go now? We got enough worms.” Freddy didn’t notice his sister’s distress. “I wanna go,” Lucy wailed. “Yeah, come on,” Razz said, ignoring his sister. He and the other two took off for the house. Why couldn’t they all go? The idea took root in Bea’s mind. She could dunk Lucy in the river and get most of the muck off. And wash her dress, too. “Come on, Lucy. We’re going, too.” There was that bright smile. Lucy swiped her hand across her face leaving a larger smear of black dirt on her cheek. Bea shook her head. She better get Lucy cleaned up before Mama saw her. The hooligans, as Bea liked to call her brothers, ran to the side porch and grabbed their long thick sticks. With all the tree branches lying on the ground, the boys found new ones all the time. But the best ones, they kept on the porch. While they tied string on their sticks, Bea went inside and gathered a towel and a few other things she needed to clean up Lucy. She slipped on a pair of old men’s pants Mama had cut off. Perfect for the swimming hole. In this heat, maybe they could all take a dip.

The group proceeded through the woods, following the path to the river. The boys thought the girls were taking too long so they raced ahead. Lucy tried her best to keep up. She could run pretty fast for a three-year-old girl. “You want to race?” Bea asked. “Kay.” She took off. “Watch out for those sticks.” “I’m gonna win.” Bea lagged behind pretending she was running as fast as she could. Lucy laughed and ran faster. When Bea heard the sound of water rushing over rocks, she called out to Lucy. “Stop now. You won.” Her little sister jumped with glee. “Take my hand. We’re close to the water.” Bea brushed a low hanging branch out of her way and stepped to the small river bank. It was more of a stream really, but the water hid some pretty deep spots for swimming. Razz, Freddy, and Charles already had their spots and were putting hooks on their fishing strings. Charles tossed his out first. “Lucy, how would you like to put your feet in the water?” Bea knew if she mentioned swimming, Lucy would more than likely jump in. She wasn’t afraid of the water, but Bea knew the creek was unpredictable, and dangerous if you weren’t careful. “Can we go swimming?” Lucy begged as her big eyes pleaded. Bea propped her hand under her chin, holding her elbow in her other palm as if she were thinking. “Let me see. If you are good—” “I’ll be good.” Her little head nodded up and down so fast, she made Bea dizzy. “And you promise to stay close to the grass—”

“I pomise. I pomise.” “No wading above your knees.” “Kay.” “You can splash all you want and only go in the water when I’m with you.” “Yes. Yes.” Lucy ran to the edge of the water. The boys were several yards upstream. She hoped that she and Lucy were far enough away not to bother them or the fish. But if not, who cared. Her brothers would just have to put up with it. Lucy quickly took off her shoes and stuck her toe in the stream. “Cold!” She giggled and took another step. “ what I said. And you promised.” In her excitement, Lucy would forget everything she promised. At least Bea had cautioned her. “I know.” Lucy stood at the edge of the water. “Bea. See that flat rock over there? Can I step on it?” “Wait just a minute and I’ll help you.” Bea tightened the rope of her cut-off pants so they wouldn’t fall off. Grabbing Lucy’s hand, she carefully stepped into the water searching for drop-offs. It certainly wouldn’t do to step in a hole and drown her little sister with her. Lucy squealed and laughed and splashed and played. Bea smiled at seeing a clean face under all that dirt. “Hey. You’re making too much noise down there,” Charles yelled. “She’s scaring the fish away,” Freddy chimed in. Not to be left out, Razz complained, too. “Come on, Sis. How we gonna catch any fish if Lucy’s splashing in the water?” Bea watched her little sister playing and laughing. When Lucy splashed water on Bea, she laughed even harder.

Heck with her brothers. They could fish another time. She called to them. “Why don’t you come swimming, too?” Her three siblings looked at each other as if they’d never heard of such a thing. Next thing she knew, they ran down the river bank to where she and Lucy were, threw their poles on the ground, and started jerking at their shirts and shoes. When they jumped in the water, they were making so much noise she wondered if her brothers might be descendants of an Indian tribe. Razz ran to the tall oak and tugged on a rope he’d tied to a branch a long time ago. Since then, he’d found an old rubber tire and attached it to the bottom of the rope. Climbing in, he swung out over the deepest part, yowling and jerking like a monkey. Bea laughed at her silly brother. Lucy giggled so hard she doubled over. Charles swung out next. He grabbed the thick rope and yelled, “I’m Tarzan.” Then he made those ridiculous sounds that echoed until they were drowned out by a big splash. Hot on his heels, Freddy swung out acting as foolish as his brothers. As fast as they could swim to shore, they raced back to the tree to do it all over again.

***

Maggie rose from the rocking chair and carried Bussy to her room, placing him in the center of the big bed. With her youngest asleep, and the other children playing outside, she had the next two hours to herself. She’d put the cream in the larder. Bread was rising on the table beside the cook stove. Everything had been dusted and put in its place. So maybe she’d just take a well-deserved rest. Glancing at the basket of mending on the floor beside her rocker, she shook her head. The shining sun beckoned her outside. She stepped onto the front porch and closed the screen door quietly. Once her boy fell asleep, not much woke him up. But still, she shut the door with care.

An engine sounded in the distance. She held a hand over her brow blocking the sun. Sure enough a car she did not recognize bounced up the rutted lane. Who in tarnation? When the vehicle pulled up beside the house, the driver waved. Being neighborly, she waved back, but didn’t recognize the man. It was hard to see inside the vehicle anyway. He opened the door and slid out. The sun glinted off his auburn hair, setting the strands ablaze. Clean shaven, he had a strong jaw and a nice grin—a fascinating man to look at. Her heart began to pound uncomfortably. Without a word, he came closer. His eyes were intense as he studied her. A thrill of physical awareness swept through her and she had to remind herself to breathe. He stepped inside the gate and halted at the bottom of the steps, his hands resting on his lean hips. His flannel shirt fitted over broad shoulders and muscled arms. She wanted to feel his arms around her. Where the devil had that thought come from? Embarrassed, she fanned the front of her face. “Hello. I’m Harlan Beverage.” “Hello,” Maggie replied a bit breathless. “I’m Maggie. Maggie Baldwin.” “Hello, Maggie. It’s a mighty fine day. And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” His eyes twinkled and he spoke in the smoothest, deepest voice she’d ever heard. She could listen to the sound of his voice forever. Good Lord. She twisted her hands around each other trying to compose her thoughts. “Likewise, I’m sure, Mr. Beverage.” His smile grew wider and Maggie felt a flicker in her breast. “Please, Maggie. I’d appreciate it if you called me Harlan.”

“Of course.” “Like I said, nice day. A hot one though.” She knew better than to invite a stranger into her home without at least asking his purpose for being there, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Please come in out of the sun, Harlan. How about a cool glass of water?” “Don’t mind if I do, Maggie.” Every time he said her name it sounded like a caress and she nearly swooned. She waited for him to climb the steps, and when she turned to open the screen door, he quickly reached for the handle. “Allow me.” There was that flutter again. “Thank you. This way.” As she led the way to the kitchen, she figured she better find out who he was. “How did you find your way to our farm?” “Well, I met Jeremiah at the stockyard yesterday.” “Oh. Did you take your stock to market?” “I did. And I . . . Could you be Jeremiah’s sister?” She pointed to the dining room table. “Please have a seat, Harlan, while I get you a drink.” He nodded and pulled out a chair. “I’m Jeremiah’s wife. This is our home.” She stepped to the kitchen water spigot. Using the ladle, she dipped water into two glasses and carried them to the table. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She took the chair at the end. “Do you have business with Jeremiah?”

Harlan studied her a while before he answered. She felt like a bug under a microscope. She turned her gaze to the window and lifted her glass. Anything to relieve the tension from his scrutiny. “Why yes, Maggie, I do. I saw Jeremiah’s cattle truck and want to make arrangements for him to haul my steers. Thought I’d come by and talk with him about it.” “He’s in the woods right now. He doesn’t usually return before dark.” Harlan brought his glass to the edge of his lips, never taking his eyes off of hers. She watched the knot in his throat as he swallowed. Never had a man’s throat demanded her complete attention. “That tastes real good, Maggie.” The twinkle came back in his eyes and, at that moment, Maggie thought her being married probably didn’t make any difference to him. She felt another flutter, only this time it quivered down to her belly.

Chapter Four

1935

Jeremiah normally got up around six am, before the rooster could bluster his morning cock-a-doodle-do. He threw back the covers and smacked his bare feet on the cold floor. Scrubbing a hand over the whiskers on his face, he shook off the chill and forced his body to move. He jerked his pants over his long underwear, pulled on some socks and slipped his feet into his work boots. Tugging at the straps of his suspenders, he made his way to the side door. He grabbed a coat off the peg and threw it on. When he stepped outside, cold, frosty air cuffed him in the face. He took a deep breath and exhaled while his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. The beginning of a new day. First stop, the outhouse. Maggie had coffee perking on the stove when he came back inside. As was his habit, he sliced a few strips of ham while Maggie made some grits and eggs. He had thirty hens in the chicken house, so they had eggs every morning. The kitchen door opened and he glanced up to see Razz carrying the slop jar. It must have been his turn. Bea and Freddy came into the kitchen, dressed and ready for school. The door opened again, and Charles entered with a basket of eggs. Yep, the kids performed their chores each morning without being told. “Where’s your sister and brother?” “Lucy and Bussy are still asleep.” Bea helped Maggie set the food on the table. After he said a short blessing, the family dug in. “Working on the north pasture today. Almanac calls for snow tomorrow.” Jeremiah dabbed his bread in the runny yellow of his egg and shoved it in his

mouth. “Oh boy, snow,” Freddy cried. “You still have to go to school,” he reminded the youngster. “Not if we get a bunch,” Charles said. Jeremiah glanced at his oldest son. “Chores still need to be done.” “Yes, Pap.” Jeremiah frowned. Where did the boy hear that? All his children called him Dad. He lifted his mug and took a sip of coffee. “Uncle Delmar will be by tomorrow to pick up Bessy.” Maggie looked at him with wide eyes. “Why is he picking up Bessy? He’s already got milking cows on his farm.” “That’s the last of what I owe for the rest of the land. AJ has done been paid. This is the last I owe Delmar, then the whole farm will belong to me.” “This farm is growing, Jeremiah. Too big already for just you.” “Land is the future, Maggie. And the land will be ed down to our children. It belonged to my grandfather, and it will go to my grandchildren.” “We got a lot of land, huh Pap?” “Razz, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Maggie corrected their son. “Yes, um.” “Charles, don’t wolf down your food.” Jeremiah had learned the importance of the land from his grandfather. He wanted his sons to love the land the way he did. “Look out that window, boy. As far as your eyes can see, that’s our land.” “What are you going to do with all that land, Dad?” Bea asked.

He glanced at his daughter as he scooped some strawberry jam on his plate. “Well, Bea. Got a lot of cattle grazing. Need the meadows to make hay for winter time. Got a big barn to put the hay in and make a home for the hogs.” “Can we eat a hog for supper tonight?” Razz asked. “I want some bacon.” Jeremiah went on as if Razz hadn’t spoken. “Lots of deer running through them fields and woods out there. And the trees? Good for timber. We can sell lots of timber.” He took another bite of egg. “You gonna cut down all the trees?” Freddy’s eyes about to bug out of his head. “No. Don’t cotton to clearing off the mountain. Where would the animals go? They need a place to live.” “The mountain would look funny bald.” Razz laughed at his joke. But the boy was right. The mountain would look funny and not a good thing at all. “I’ll pick certain trees to cut. The others will grow. I never clear cut.” “What do you mean, clear cut?” Freddy asked a lot of questions, which he supposed was normal for a five-year-old boy. “That means cut them all. Even if I’m going to clear a section, I don’t cut every tree in it. That would destroy nature. Animals would look for a new home. Clearing the trees could change the soil. Heavy rains could flood the lower sections. Down in the holler is good for grazing cattle. Lots of hay and grass. It could fill with mud if we cut all the trees.” “Then we wouldn’t have no cows.” “You gonna get more cows, Dad?” Charles’ interest pleased him. “Depends on what I find at the stockyard.” “What if they eat all the grass?” Jeremiah smiled. He’d never finish his breakfast if Freddy kept asking him questions. “We’ll move the cows to another section so they won’t go hungry.” He slathered some jam on a slice of bread.

“Ohhhh.” “After Delmar picks up Bessie, the land is yours?” Jeremiah turned to his oldest. Bea showed as much interest as her brothers. Made a man right proud. “Yes. All of Grandfather’s land will belong to me.” “Why Bessie? I like Bessie.” “She’ll have a good home.” “Jeremiah, I like Bessie too. She’s easy to milk,” Maggie said. “And you already butchered Cherry.” Why did these women get so darn attached to a cow when they knew there’d come a time for butchering? “Well, I guess I can ask if he wants another hog or two. We’ll see when he comes by tomorrow.” “I want bacon.” Razz always wanted bacon.

***

Since the temperature had dropped to freezing, Jeremiah took the children to the bus stop in his truck. Wind kicked up and clouds rolled in—a good sign of snow. He hoped it held off until tomorrow. He promised Geoffrey to take his cows to market today. Turning onto the road that would take him to Geoffrey’s farm, Jeremiah noticed mostly deep red leaves remained on the maple trees; but a lot of limbs were bare. A few minutes later, Jeremiah pulled up next to Geoffrey’s barn. He must have been waiting. The man threw up his hand in a wave. Jeremiah climbed from the truck and strode to the back. “Cold this morning.”

“Yep,” Geoffrey answered. “Hope the wind doesn’t kick up too much on the mountain and blow your truck off the side since I’ll be riding along with you.” “I hope so, too.” Jeremiah had been in some pretty strong winds. The trees helped block wind gusts on the mountain roads. Driving from the forest to the wide open space is what presented the problem. He threw the latch on the planks of his cattle truck. Geoffrey helped him lift the heavy wooden board, dropping one end to the ground. “I got six of my cows in the pen. I figure I should get a fair price for them.” “You might get a better price in a few months, but it’s hard to tell. Someone is always buying and selling at the stockyard.” “I could have gotten more if I’d sold them a month ago.” Jeremiah never worried about time past. Better to think about what needed to be done today. He hooked the upper end to the bed of the truck so the ramp wouldn’t slide when the cows plodded into the truck. “Price of beef keeps changing. Hard for a man to guess,” he said as he scooted the board. “I could wait a few months, but then I’d have to buy more feed. I got so many cows now, I’m gonna need help this winter to get hay out to them.” Geoffrey strode to the pen, so Jeremiah followed. “Jacob’s boys would probably help. You should ask them. Try giving them a meal for their labor.” Geoffrey stopped and turned around. “Have you seen the size of his boys?” Jeremiah laughed, realizing it might be cheaper to pay a fair wage. “They are as big as their pa.” “Exactly. Every one of them is over six feet. Their ma must be one heck of a cook.” Jeremiah slapped Geoffrey on his back. “Let’s just hope we have an easy winter.”

“I’d like to trade my cows for a bull if I could find the right buyer.” Geoffrey unwrapped the chain on the gate. Jeremiah stepped next to him. “Let’s get these cows loaded up and get out of this wind.”

***

Bea stared out the window and watched Charles tromp to the barn. No school again today. With the drifts and snow up to the fence posts, they’d been at home all week. Even with school closed, the chores still needed to be done. Charles and Razz had cleared a path to the chicken coop, a path to the barn, and most importantly a path to the outhouse. The wind blew the snow, covering the paths, and the next day the boys had to shovel them again. Bea and Freddy carried wood to the porch and Lucy helped to carry it inside to the wood box. The stoves and the fireplace kept a steady fire burning. But at night when the flames died down, it got really cold in the house. So cold, Bea didn’t want to get up in the morning. Those blankets felt awfully good. “Charles is at the barn,” Bea told her mother. With the wind blowing so fierce yesterday, Mama wanted to be sure he didn’t get blown away. Thank goodness, the gusts had died down and very little wind blew today. Few clouds dotted the blue sky. With the sun shining so bright, the snow would melt in no time. School should be open come Monday. “Mama, can we go out and play in the snow?” Freddy bubbled with energy. Turn him lose and he could outrun a jack rabbit. It was a wonder Mama hadn’t thrown all the kids outside as rowdy as they had been. “Lord, yes. All you young’uns can get out of here.” Freddy ran to the door. “Wait for me,” Lucy squealed.

“Get your boots on,” Mama yelled. “And wrap up.” Charles and Razz saw Bea, Lucy and Freddy outside. Before long snowballs were flying back and forth. “Can we make a snowman?” Lucky scooped up a pile of snow. “Sure we can.” Bea brushed the hair from her face then formed a big snowball. She tried rolling it to make a bigger ball. “Whatcha doing?” Razz came up beside her. “Making a snowman.” “That’s not how you make a snowman.” “I thought if I rolled a snowball, it would get bigger.” “All you’re doin’ is makin’ a mess.” Razz stomped over to Lucy. Scooping snow with his hands, he patted more around the base. Once Charles and Freddy decided to help, the snowball grew and became a snowman. “I’ll get buttons from Mama.” Lucy took off into the house. Charles gathered some sticks for arms. Freddy took off his scarf and wrapped it around the snowman’s neck. “Don’t have a carrot.” “We can use a stick for his nose.” Razz snapped his fingers. “We need a hat.” He rushed off and came back in a flash with one of Dad’s hats. Charles held Lucy up so she could place the buttons for eyes. “He’s the bestest snowman in the world.” “He sure is, Lucy.” Bea saw Lucy’s gloves covered with snow and figured her fingers were frozen. “Are you ready to go back inside?” “Heck, no,” Razz hollered. “Let’s go sliding.”

Lucy squealed. Before she ran off, Bea grabbed her and brushed the snow from her hands. Guess they weren’t too bad. Razz found an old hunk of metal—it might have been a fender or a hood off some equipment. He and Charles dragged it to the field beside the house and decided to use it for a sled. The kids piled on and flew down the hill. They had so much fun, none of them worried about what would happen if they fell off. When they got to the bottom, everyone grabbed hold and lugged the heavy metal back up the hill. Took a lot longer, but they sure had fun sliding down. Hungry and nearly frozen stiff, Bea and her siblings went back to the house. After some pampering from Mama, they ate some hot soup. Tuckered out, all of them took a nap. Later that evening, Bea helped her mother with supper. Most of the snow had melted, but plenty of white remained on the ground. Dad had gone down to the barn doing some business with Mr. Hiner. Something to do with the hogs. Mama sent Bea to find them. The bitter wind whipped around the house making her shiver, so she drew her raggedy coat around her tighter. Mr. Hiner stood in the yard talking to Dad. Bea ed the first time she’d seen the man, he scared her. So much for first impressions. Turned out, Mr. Hiner laughed a lot and proved to be really very nice. “Boy!” Mr. Hiner yelled. “You ain’t got no shoes on.” Good grief. How had Freddy gotten out of the house without shoes? She’d swear her little brother was part animal. He ran around barefoot all the time. You’d think the idiot would know better with snow on the ground. “You’re gonna frost your feet. Then I’ll have to call you Frosty instead of Freddy.” Mr. Hiner had nicknames for a lot of people. He hardly ever called anyone by their given name. “Get in the house and get your boots, boy,” Dad snapped, then shook his head. “Ain’t got the sense God gave a rooster.” Mr. Hiner rubbed the top of Frosty’s head as he ran by. Then he saw her. “Howdy, Bea.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiner.” “You best get inside too, Bea,” Dad said. “It’s getting colder and the wind is picking up again.” “Mama sent me to tell you to invite Mr. Hiner in for supper.” “Why, that’s mighty kind of your mama. But I’ve got to drive across the mountain. And with the roads the way they are, I better leave now.” Dad and Mr. Hiner talked some more, so Bea went back inside. She hung her coat on the peg and briskly rubbed her arms. She hurried to the fireplace and soaked up the warmth coming from the flames. That felt so much better. The door opened and Dad came in. “Sure feels better in here.” He turned to hang his hat on the wall. “Cold in here, too. But the fire sure is nice,” she said. Mama came into the living room with a big spoon in her hand. “Jeremiah. Did you invite Bob to supper?” “He headed out.” “He could have had a nice warm meal before he left.” “The temperature is dropping and the roads are bad for traveling, Maggie. He wanted to get going.” “Well, come on then. Before your children fall asleep again.” Dad frowned at Mama. “They wore themselves out today.” Mama chuckled. “Come tomorrow, I’m sending them back out there in the snow again.”

Chapter Five

The air brandished crisp and cool, a sure sign winter was coming. Again. Where had the summer gone? With school out, the kids were given more chores. Hay making, chicken plucking, sheep shearing, hog butchering—made a body glad to go back to school. This summer had been awfully hot, so Bea welcomed the autumn air. Changes on the land were taking place and preparations made ready for the livestock to endure winter. The barn loft had been filled with hay, bags of feed stored in the corner garret, the woodshed stacked full and a cord of wood heaped on the back porch. And Lulabell had her piglets. Jeremiah had added a second block of wood on the door for keeping the sow in her pen. Any mama would be protective right after giving birth to a litter, but Lulabell was just plumb mean. “Wink”, one of the men who worked for him, had to distract her while Jeremiah checked on her babies. She’d charged Wink and he jumped out of the way just in time, slamming the divider into the small space. Then she darn near knocked down the door trying to get out. Nine fat baby piglets squealed and ran in circles looking for their mama. Jeremiah climbed into the stall and knelt by the pitiful lump. Just as he feared. Lulabell had squished him. He glanced to the others, checking for signs of injury. Their squeals alone attested to their health. He scooped up the limp piglet and crawled back to safety. “All right, Wink. Let her out.” Standing on the half-wall, Wink leaned over, withdrew the log, and flipped the latch. The door flung open and Lulabell charged like a mad bull. Jeremiah hoped she didn’t squish another one of her babies while she ranted. Snorting and stomping, several agitated moments ed before she finally settled down. The piglets latched on to her nipples and all was right in their world again. “Look at ‘em, going to town.” Wink leaned his arms on the half-wall beside Jeremiah.

“Thanks for your help, Wink.” “She’s dangerous. You better keep her locked up for a spell.” “I plan to.” Jeremiah left the barn and headed to the house. He needed to wash the stink off. Between the piglets and the manure, Maggie might not let him inside. The springhouse had a faucet with water constantly running from the spring. He used it for cleaning meat after the skinning, and oft times he cleaned off the muck he tromped in during a normal day’s work. Maggie wouldn’t let him in the house with manure on his person. He washed up in the springhouse, then slipped in the kitchen door. The smell of fresh bread hit him right where he liked. His stomach. “You’re in early today.” Maggie lifted the bread from the oven and closed the iron door. “Checking on Lulabell and her pigs. She squished one.” Maggie turned with grief-stricken eyes. “Oh, no. That’s a shame.” “Don’t tell Lucy.” “Of course not. She hasn’t seen them yet, but she’s been asking. She won’t know how many are supposed to be there.” As if he had called his daughter, Lucy came running into the kitchen, Bea behind her. “Dad. Can I see the baby pigs? Can I?” “I just washed up.” “You can wash again. Mama’s gonna make me wash my hands again before supper.” She tugged on his pants leg trying to pull him to the door, when it opened. Razz and Frosty came hurdling in. His boys did everything in full throttle. He just shook his head.

“I smell bread. Is it done?” Razz had a nose like a hound dog. “I’m just taking it out of the oven. You can wait till supper.” “Aw, Ma. Please?” Maggie ignored him and faced Bea. “Did you girls see any turkey eggs?” “We followed the turkeys all day. Bea made me be quiet.” Lucy’s bottom lip rolled out. “They won’t make their nest if they see us,” Bea explained to Lucy. Then she addressed her mom. “We know where the nests are, so we’ll check again tomorrow.” “I wanna see the baby pigs.” Lucy tugged on her dad’s pants again. “Do we have time before supper?” Bea asked. “I’ll take her.” Jeremiah was proud of his daughter, the way she watched over her little sister. Razz kept an eye on her, too. “Yes,” Maggie answered. She smacked Razz’s fingers as he tried to reach for the bread on top of the stove. “Git. You go on. But don’t stay too long. Dinner will be ready to set on the table before long.” She smacked Razz again. “Ow, Ma.” Lucy squealed and ran for the door. “Lucy!” Jeremiah shouted in a tone of voice he rarely used. The children recognized it and knew he meant business. Five sets of wary eyes stared at him. Good. He had their attention. “You stay with Bea. You do not touch the pigs and you do not go in the pen.” Lucy’s lip rolled out, but she didn’t cry. He’d not intended to make her cry. His fear for her safety had made him stern. “Yes, sir.”

“You boys pay attention. No one in the pen. That sow weighs more ‘n me, so if she tramples ya, it’s gonna hurt.” More “yes sirs”, and then they dashed out the door like coyotes scampering over the meadow. “Good thing Lucy don’t know we’re gonna be slaughtering before long.” “Part of life on a farm, Maggie. Part of life on a farm.”

Bea chased after Lucy as she made a beeline straight for the barn. In the front yard, Charles tossed a stick into the air. “Hey, where ya’ll going?” “We gonna see the new baby pigs.” Lucy yelled back while her feet kept moving. Bea had to run to keep up with her. “Slow down, Lucy. what Dad said. You can’t go in the barn without me.” Charles scampered off with Razz and Frosty, each trying to outrace the other. They were so competitive. By the time she and Lucy walked into the barn, the three boys already swung from the rafters. Bea had to hold Lucy so she could see over the side of the short wall. Razz climbed down and dragged over a hay bale for Lucy to stand on. “Lookie. Baby pigs.” Lulabell snorted and pawed her front feet. “Stay back Lucy,” Charles told her. “And don’t scream. You’re making Lulabell mad.” “I don’t want to make Lulabell mad.” She held out her hand like a peace offering. “I just want to see your babies. They’re small.” “If everyone speaks in a low voice, she’ll calm down.” Bea leaned closer to

Lucy. “Maybe we can whisper.” “Okay. I’ll whisper.” Lucy’s whisper would be considered a normal tone for most. But it worked. After several moments of watching, Lulabell calmed down enough to let her piglets nurse. She stretched out on the straw and the hungry little beggars rooted for a spot. “They fighting for a tit.” “Charles,” Bea scolded. Lucy would repeat everything she heard. “What? It’s a tit ain’t it?” “It’s a teat,” Bea corrected. “Same thing.” “What’s a teat?” “Hush, Frosty.” His face scrunched and his lip curved down into a frown. “I’ve seen enough. I’m going to the house.” “Me, too.” Charles dropped down from the rafter, and Razz climbed down the wall. With her attention on the boys, Bea didn’t see Lucy lean forward. She fell over the wall and landed on the hog trough. The shrill scream coming from her little sister nearly stopped Bea’s heart. Everything happened at once. Lulabell snorted and rolled to her feet. The piglets were thrown off and started a squealing session of their own. Bea heard her own scream tear from her throat. Razz and Charles jumped over the wall, each on opposite sides of the pen, drawing Lulabell’s attention. Razz yelled and waved his arms. When Lulabell charged, Razz scurried up the wall and hung on one of the rafters. Charles grabbed Lucy and shoved her into Bea’s outstretched arms. Then he hightailed it back over the wall.

Lulabell stomped and snorted and created all kinds of fuss. Lucy wailed in fear. Bea’s legs shook so hard she thought she might fall. Then she did. She just tightened her hold on Lucy and dropped to the barn floor. The commotion on the other side of the wall still roared in her ears. Razz. She glanced up and saw him climb over the rafters and drop down beside her. Thank you, God! “Lucy okay?” Razz’s breathing was labored. Heck, they’d all had a fright. “She’s just scared.” Bea looked at Razz then at Charles. “You both saved her. That was very brave. If you . . .” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Aw, that’s okay, Sis.” Razz patted her shoulder. Dad came tearing into the barn. His eyes looked as wild as probably hers. “What in tarnation is going on in here? Sounds like the barn is coming down.” “Lucy fell in the pen.” Frosty piped up before anyone could stop him. The color in Dad’s face quickly left. Bea wondered if she looked that pale. He ran over to Bea and dropped to his knees. “She’s just scared, Dad.” “She landed in the trough,” Razz added. “We got her out real quick. Lulabell couldn’t get to her.” Charles didn’t add that he and Razz jumped in the pen with the dangerous sow. Dad took Lucy in his arms and without another word, walked out of the barn.

***

Jeremiah sure was glad to have a threshing machine. No more separating grain from stalks by hand. Not only was it hard labor, but took up a lot of time. And with the granary forty miles away, the farmers had to leave their wheat and corn at the mill and return a week later to pick up their grain. With his new machine he could separate the chaff from his buckwheat and grain, right on the owner’s property. He could earn a dollar, too. Word of mouth was his best ment. He already had jobs lined up throughout the county and into West Virginia. Heavener was scheduled for today. He wheeled the truck into Heavener’s barnyard and pulled the brake. “Howdy, Jeremiah.” Jeremiah climbed down from the cab and sidestepped a cow pile. The two men shook hands. “Leroy.” “Would you look at that?” Leroy hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and thoroughly studied the machine from one end to the other. “When I heard you went and got a threshing machine I couldn’t wait to see it.” “Well, there it is. A beauty isn’t she?” Jeremiah hooked his thumbs on the straps of his overalls, rocking on the balls of his feet. Every time he looked at the machine, he about popped form sheer joy. Leroy Heavener let out a whistle through his teeth. “Sure is.” He walked around the huge, metal-ed machine with pipes and belts and wheels. “Run on gas?” “Yep.” “Where’s the engine?” “Up here.” Jeremiah hurried to the front where the contraption was hooked to his truck. He tapped a huge tank. Leroy nodded and scratched his beard. “What’s all this?” He pointed at a large piece angled from the tank to the top of the big cylinder. “Pipes for the gas. And that big one up there shoots out the grain.” He pointed as

he explained. “Spits it out on top of the thresher?” Jeremiah moved to the side casing the pulley and climbed on the wheel. He unlatched a fastener, pulled back a bolt, then swung the huge funnel-pipe over the side. “You can move this thing where you want it. Park your wagon under it or haul this right up to your grain shed.” “Sure is a sight for sore eyes.” The envy in Leroy’s expression made Jeremiah proud he owned it. “How does the thing work?” “The straw goes in the back in the feeder, runs inside to the hopper. The blades cut it up, tear the bundles apart. If there’s any twine on it, tears that up, too.” “You don’t say.” “The rotating blades beat the straw and grain-heads onto a grooved plate we can’t see, knocking kernels from the heads without crushing them. Then the straw es over a rack removing the straw from the seed.” Jeremiah motioned with his hands as he explained the process. “That falls on a shaking screen, removing the rest of the chaff from the kernels. Then the kernels fall in the hopper and it shoots the grain out through this pipe.” “Sure beats the heck out of the way we do it now. I can’t wait to try it out.” “Takes a bit to set it up. But we’ll have a load of grain today.” Jeremiah hopped down from the thresher and smacked the dirt off his hands. “Ya know, Jeremiah, I want some of that buckwheat from your field when you harvest it. Maybe I can trade ya some of my grain for it.” “Buckwheat is becoming right popular. I’ve had a few other neighbors ask for some.”

“Makes mighty good pancakes. People from all over been asking for your buckwheat.” Jeremiah smiled. People from out of the county had heard about his buckwheat. That meant more orders. “What do you say, Leroy? Ready to get started?” “Yes, indeed. I’ll get the tractor.”

Chapter Six

Maggie held her breath waiting for Jeremiah to close the door. She peeked out the sheer curtain and watched his truck disappear around the barn. When the first pale light of dawn crept into their room this morning, she’d been awake, thinking of her plans for the day. She couldn’t get the young’uns out of the house fast enough. Ethel would watch Bussy for a bit and she wouldn’t ask any questions. Today was the day. Tingles raced through her blood at the expectation. She cleaned the breakfast dishes, tidied up the bedrooms and changed her clothes. Then she grabbed her jacket, tucked a blanket around Bussy, and headed out the door. Her breath puffed out a misty cloud as her stride grew longer. What would she tell Ethel? She needed some fresh air? She decided to take a drive? She was taking eggs to market? As it turned out, she didn’t have to say much of anything. Ethel was too glad to babysit. Eager to be on her way, Maggie tied a scarf around her head and closed the door to the woman’s little cabin. As she stepped onto the porch she knew exactly where she was going. The dogs had followed her over the hill, so on her way back she shut them in the shed. They were still barking as she climbed into her car and slammed the door. By the time she opened the gate at the trail to the forest, her heart thumped a frantic pace. She drove through, got out of her car and closed the gate back. A few more minutes down the trail and she saw his car. Harlan. He leaned against the driver’s side door with his arms crossed, drawing her gaze

to the muscles bulging in his arms. She pulled the car to a stop. He fixed her in his sights and strode towards her. Each step he took in her direction made her face heat and her heart thud. She climbed from her car, eagerness and anxiety both drove her movements. As she went to him, her steps slowed, unsure if she’d made the right decision. Then he smiled that devastating smile and she was hypnotized. Drawn to him by an imaginary rope that he held in his grasp. Before she knew it, she stood before him. She took a shaky breath, “I’m here.” “I’m glad you came.” His eyes pierced, penetrated deep into her soul. He was glad. He was here. And now, so was she. Stout fingers settled on her hips, drawing her closer. She placed her hands on the solid wall of his chest. Instantly, he rewarded her with his sensuous smile. As if he sensed her unease, he took things slow. He kissed the top of her head. Then sliding downward, he spread kisses along her hair line and across her jaw. Her eyelids drifted closed of their own will. Then he wrapped his arms around her and just held her. She hadn’t known how desperately she’d been wanting a hug just like this one. Someone to hold her, allow her to feel safe and protected, and the rest of the world didn’t matter. All too soon, he broke the embrace. “Come.” He took her hand and led her to the cabin. A whirl of smoke spiraled from the stone chimney. He opened the door and motioned her inside. Sparks popped in the fireplace where flames licked the burning logs. She liked the smell of burning wood and embraced the heat. Staring into the flames, her thoughts assailed her making her unsure, uncertain how she should act. Up until this point, she’d been anxious to meet him. Now that she stood in this room . . . there was no denying the purpose of their meeting. Her nerves skipped along her skin. She felt his hand on her shoulder, his grasp gentle.

“Second thoughts, Maggie?” His hand trailed down her arm and slowly back up. She glanced over her shoulder to see his dark auburn hair with a strand falling over his forehead. His green eyes blazed, framed with lashes so long a woman could weep. Her gaze lowered to his mouth and her breath caught. Perfectly curved lips. If she moved an inch, she could feel them on her own. With the lightest of touches, one finger traced a line from her ear down to the base of her throat. She leaned back against his hard frame. Now, both hands cupped her shoulders. His hot breath caressed her ear. “I’ve been waiting.” His voice rumbled just below her ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.” She felt the flat of his tongue on the side of her neck. She gasped at the sensation, willing her body not to move in hopes he would do it again. She had no reason to fear, for he kissed her on that very same spot. Her head rolled to the side. With his mouth open, his tongue drew delicious circles on her skin. Heat charged in the air around them. Blood pumped furiously through her veins. “Let’s remove this.” He tugged at the sleeve of her coat, but stayed close. His chest pressed against her back as he drew the material off and tossed it to the side. One arm slid around her ribcage while he snuggled closer, pressing her into the contours of his body. Land sakes, he felt so good. His other hand toyed with the tie on the bodice of her dress. Maggie was a wellendowed woman. Right now she was proud of her big breasts. Only they ached for his touch. As if he read her mind, his hand grazed one plump side as he tugged open the bow. His fingers played with the ties and soon the material gaped open showing a large amount of her flesh. She held her breath waiting for his touch on her skin. “You’re quite lovely, Maggie.” Then his hands squeezed and groped. A moan sprang from her throat at the wonderful sensation. Oh, he knew just what to do. She whimpered, enjoying his caress. It was too much, but not enough.

Suddenly, she needed to feel his arms around her. She turned to face him, need in her eyes for him to see. The moment Harlan’s lips touched hers, fireworks exploded behind her eyelids. He cradled the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair and kissed her with a force that shocked her. His lips plundered hers with such greed that she became lost in a maelstrom of sensation. A fierce hunger took hold of her; she had to dig her fingers into his shoulders to keep from falling. For a moment, her mind ceased to function. When he gripped her to him tighter, she snaked her hands up to twine about his neck. This is what she wanted. Once he’d taken her in his arms, there was no more second guessing. A slow ache began to build inside her and she forgot everything but the feel of his lips and his body, hot and demanding. His kisses lowered until he was kissing her breasts. Her head flung back, she pressed her fullness toward his seeking lips. When he took her into his mouth, a dizzying desire consumed her. She’d never felt so alive. Then he pressed his thigh against the center of her. Sensations like nothing she’d ever known assailed her. The whole world shrank to this moment. This craving. Resentment for the life she led drove her. She’d made her decision. Today she would surrender to her desire. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

***

Monterey was a small town, but it had a bank, a doctor, and a general store. A few weeks ago, Jeremiah had ordered a rocker. The old one was good and strong, but they could use another one by the fireplace. The bell ding-a-linged when he opened the door. Gene looked up from the customer he’d been speaking with, spotting Jeremiah right away.

“Howdy, Jeremiah.” “Gene.” He gave a nod and glanced at the customer, recognizing him. Pretty much everyone knew everybody in the county. “Hello, Warren.” “Been a while, Jeremiah.” “Yep.” Gene tallied up the items on the counter. “That’ll be seventy-five cents.” Warren pulled some coins out of his pocket. “Here ya go. Thanks, Gene.” He grabbed a crate off the counter and faced Jeremiah. “Still driving to the stockyard?” “Every Friday,” Jeremiah answered. “Been thinking about buying me a bull. Need someone to haul it back for me.” “Jeremiah’s your man,” Gene said from behind the counter. “Be glad to, Warren. When do you want to go?” “Probably next week or so.” “You let me know and I’ll drive right over.” “Ya hear about that mad cow at Puffenberger’s place?” Gene leaned his hands on the wooden counter while he spoke. The man liked to jaw and his store was the best place to get news from the holler. “Can’t say I did.” Jeremiah had been working in the woods felling trees. The women used the phone to spread news, but the men got their tales from Gene. “I think you mean bull,” Warren said. “No, it was a cow.” “I heard it was a bull.” “Gossip.” Gene shook his head. “Men are just as bad as women. And they don’t

get their facts straight. Weren’t no bull. I’m talking about Puffenberger and his mad cow.” “I didn’t hear nothing ‘bout no mad cow.” Warren set his crate back on the counter. Guess it was getting heavy. “Then just listen and I’ll tell ya.” Gene crossed his arms over his big stomach. “Puffenberger’s wife went down to the barn to milk the cows and one of ‘em up and kicked her. Shoved her into the stall wall and hurt her pretty bad.” “She all right?” “Won’t be milking fer a spell. Got her arm broke. She started screaming, her two boys come a running. The cow got loose in the field. When the boys tried to get her, dang cow charged ‘em.” “Sakes alive.” Warren slapped his thigh. “That’s a mad cow all right.” “I’ll get Maggie to check on her. She’ll probably want to take some food down if the woman’s arm is broke.” Jeremiah made a mental note to tell Maggie as soon as he got home. The men told a few more stories and then Warren left. “Bet I know what you come fer.” Gene had a big smile on his face. “I need to pick up a barrel of flour, but I thought I’d see if you’ve finished that rocking chair.” “Yep, all done.” Gene walked around the counter and motioned Jeremiah to the back. When he saw the chair, he let out a whistle. “You did a fine job, Gene. A fine job. Let’s load her on the truck.” Forty minutes later, Jeremiah turned into the lane that took him to his property. When he pulled the truck up to the house, Charles and Razz fiddled with something in the yard. He wondered what they had in the wagon this time. One of the men he’d hired to help cut wood had taken a few planks and made the

boys a wagon. They were never without it. As much as those two fought, surprisingly they shared the wagon without scraping. “C’mere boys.” Razz dropped the handle and both came running over. “What ya got, Dad?” Razz climbed up on the back, his fingers gripping the slats like a monkey. “Need some help with this barrel and I got us a new rocking chair.” “What we need a new chair for?” Charles didn’t seem too keen on the idea. It wasn’t for him anyway. Jeremiah slid the wooden bar and the makeshift gate opened. “Wow, Dad. That’s a fine looking chair.” “What you know about it, Razz? One chair is the same as the next.” Razz shook a fist at Charles and Jeremiah knew if he didn’t say something the two would be fighting again. “Jump in there and hand that rocker to me.” With Razz on one side and Charles on the other, they lifted the chair to him. As soon as they jumped to the ground, he gave a nod to the house. “All right. Take it on in.” “Mama know you got a new rocking chair for her?” “It’s for everybody, Razz. I imagine your ma is right happy with the one she’s got. But she can have her choice.” “Where ya want it?” Charles asked. “Right in front of the fireplace. If we need to move anything, I’m sure your ma will tell us.” “Wait till you see Bea.” Charles shoved his elbow into Razz’s side. Razz glared at his brother. “What’d you do that fer?”

“Let him find out for himself.” What had they done? No sense stalling, he’d find out soon enough. He leveled a stern gaze on his son. “Something you need to tell me, Razz?” Charles was the one who answered. “Nope. This you gotta see.” Charles’ cocky attitude lessened Jeremiah’s concern. He shook his head as he followed the boys onto the porch, then held the door open as the two boys dragged the rocker inside. They placed it in front of the fireplace and it looked just fine. “Ma! Come see what Dad got.” Maggie came into the living room with Bea right behind her. He stared. “Doctor gave Bea glasses. Said the girl was near blind.” He studied the black frames with Bea’s big eyes right in the center and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Looks like a frog peeping through ice.”

Chapter Seven

Despite the fact she was rarely cold, a fire blazed in the grate, and Maggie sat in a chair with a blanket draped over her legs. A needle in her hand, she sewed the two pieces of cloth together. Glancing at Bea sitting in the chair beside her, a smile crept across her lips. Bea’s tongue wedged firmly at the corner of her mouth as if the gesture aided in each stitch. The bell on the telephone box went off again. The contraption took two big batteries. With the thing going off all day, they’d be replacing one soon. Since they were on what was called a party line, the bell rang every time someone in the holler got a call. Loraine worked at the telephone company as an operator. She told stories of how the workers collected the money from the pay phones. A workman would go to the phone, call the company, and an operator would throw a switch to release the coins. She also tattled on herself about the time she blabbed to her boyfriend how it worked, and then he had her release the coins to him when she wasn’t supposed to. Plumb dishonest, taking money like that. Maggie didn’t want to know what else those two might have going on. A long ring – short ring – long ring. The telephone bell sounded the Baldwin ring tone. Maggie set her needlework aside, shoved from her rocker, and lifted the wooden handhold. Speak of the devil, Loraine’s mouth nattered on the other end. And in such a panic Maggie could barely understand her. “Calm down, now Loraine. Make sense.” “Maggie, I know I shouldn’t a been listening, but Charlene is in trouble.” Trouble? Charlene turned eighteen last month. Every man in the valley chased after that girl. With Loraine’s big mouth, now everyone would know about the girl’s misfortune. “No, you should not have been listening. What kind of trouble?” “Well I can’t say over the party line. Someone might be listening.”

Like you, Maggie thought. “Then why did you call?” “Icks snay on the ell ray.” “Loraine. What the heck are you saying?” She heaved a sigh expressing her aggravation that came clearly through the line. “You’ve got to come. Now.” “Come where? What’s going on?” “She’s bleeding real bad. She’s in trouble and she won’t get no help. Martha tried to talk to her but she’s crying and—” “So help me, Loraine. You better tell me what’s going on.” If someone was in trouble, now was not the time for Loraine to jabber. “I can’t,” she said in a harsh whisper. But Maggie had no trouble hearing her. If Loraine worried about others eavesdropping, whispering wouldn’t make any difference. Anyone could be listening in. If she wanted her conversation kept secret, it was too late for that now. “You’ll have to take her to Aunt Josie. She’s done messed herself up.” Maggie’s heart leaped to her throat. She hoped Loraine didn’t mean what Maggie thought. Two months ago another woman “messed herself up” and she died. Sakes alive. Had the stupid girl tried the same thing? “I’ll get my coat. You ring her up and tell her I’m on my way.” Maggie hooked the earpiece in its metal handle with a whack. She might need Bea’s help if she had to carry Charlene. “Bea. Get ready. You’re coming with me.” “Where, Mama?” Bea’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Clearly she’d been listening. Sharp girl, she knew something had happened. Maggie rushed to the sitting room where the young’uns sat by the stove getting their lessons. “Charles, you watch Bussy. Razz, you watch your brother and sister. Me and Bea have to go out.” She ran to the kitchen grabbing bread and

jam from the cabinet. She called Charles to the table. “If the children get hungry, feed them.” “Where you going?” “Don’t bother me now. Do as I say.” She quickly slabbed jam on several pieces of bread, then covered the food with a cloth. “Now you mind and don’t be fightin’ with your brother. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” She fled to the sitting room. “Bea! Come on.” She snatched the car keys from the table and headed for the door.

***

“Maggie, what am I gonna do?” Charlene cried. “I think the first thing you should do is calm down. You’ve got to get ahold of yourself.” “I knew it could happen. Oh Maggie, what am I going to do?” Charlene looked so helpless. Tears ran down her cheeks, and sobs racked her chest. “Why couldn’t you just have the baby?” “You don’t understand. My pa would kill me.” Maggie knew his temper. He had no problem planting his seed in a woman, but he wouldn’t take kindly to his own daughter giving herself to a man. Especially one who’d bedded half the girls in the county. “Well, you certainly should not have tried to do this by yourself. You could bleed to death.” She didn’t want to scare the girl more, but the brat could have killed herself. “Where’d you learn about this anyway?” “Paul said—” “Never mind. There’s time to talk about all that later.” Maggie lifted her from the

blood-soaked bed. “Bea give me a hand.” She knew her daughter was scared, but Bea showed no sign of weakness. She quickly stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Charlene. They made it to the car and helped Charlene into the back seat where she could lay down. Maggie sped down the road with a trail of dust flying up from the back of her car, hoping the foolish girl would not die. Aunt Josie lived in a shack way back in the holler. She was a woman of color, a midwife, and could be trusted to keep silent on personal matters. She sat in her rocker on the little porch watching as Maggie slid her car to a halt. Bea had not said a word the entire ride. Without being told, she lifted Charlene from the back seat and took most of her weight as they stumbled to the house. Once inside, Maggie told Bea to stay in the living room. Charlene tried to be brave, but the young woman trembled with fear. The strain of not knowing what to expect had taken its toll. She slinked to the bedroom and dropped despairingly onto the bed. Maggie arched her back and tried to give Charlene a look of encouragement. “I don’t want to die, Maggie.” “Hesh, Chile. You ain’t gonna die,” Aunt Josie soothed as she brushed the hair from Charlene’s face. She glanced to Maggie and silently spoke with her eyes. Sadness gripped Maggie’s chest. Aunt Josie’s expression indicated bad news. With a slight nod, she signaled, and Maggie understood. She followed Aunt Josie’s steps to the darkened corner of the room. “What’d this girl do?” Maggie swallowed her dread and looked at Charlene with sympathy. “She tried to use a coat hanger to get rid of the baby.” Aunt Josie shook her head. “She’s too far along. She done kilt that baby.” Josie had already prepared kettles of hot water; towels and clean rags were heaped alongside the bowl. She nodded toward the open doorway. Maggie followed Josie’s gaze and caught Bea staring with terror glinting in her

eyes. The girl had no idea of the particulars, but she understood Charlene suffered something serious. “Bea. You go on and sit down. We’ll be here a spell. There’s nothing to be scared of.” As Maggie closed the door, she prayed that it was so.

***

Bea kicked her feet in the stream and listened to the sound of the cool spring water running over the rocks. Her haven. A place of solitude where she came when she needed to think, to have a moment to herself. Her mind raced with the events of the night before. Mama never said a word on the drive home, and Bea had been too scared to ask. Probably something she shouldn’t know about anyway. Even though she worried most of the night, she still pondered what might have happened in that back room. She’d thought Charlene was having a baby. She’d been so scared. Mama had acted brave, but by the look on her face, Bea knew Mama had been scared, too. Images of blood flashed in Bea’s mind. Something had been seriously wrong. When Mama closed that door, Bea stared into the fire and listened to the sounds coming from the next room. She’d heard a lot of crying. And screaming. Her body shook so hard she curled up into a ball on the corner of the sofa, grabbing the quilt lying on the back. No matter how tight she clutched the warm comforter to her body, she couldn’t get warm. Her fear chilled the blood in her veins. Finally, the screaming stopped. The quiet sounded more harsh than the yelling. Again, her consciousness strained to hear any sound from the bedroom. She heard voices. Then quiet ensued once more. Bea drifted off to sleep. The next thing she knew, Mama woke her and said they were leaving. Bea rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around. The door to the bedroom stood slightly open. Silently, she slipped to the door and peeked in.

A faint stream of light from the oil lamp cast the room in shadows. Charlene’s eyes were closed and her chest slightly rose with her breathing. She slept. Bea searched the darkened room, her eyes squinting while she scoured the corners. No baby. Before she’d fallen asleep, she’d heard no infant cries. She ed stories, where someone had to slap a baby’s bottom to get a newborn to cry. She’d heard no sounds of slapping, no sounds of any kind a baby might make. She had searched the room again, and when she’d stepped back, Aunt Josie’s dark eyes pierced her, but the woman spoke not a word. Bea stared at the clear water, focusing on the vivid transparency where she could see the rocks lying on the creek bottom. Usually, the constant trickling sounds of water rushing over the stones scuttling down the stream soothed her. Today she battled. She tried to lose herself in the hustling water, but her concentration persisted in returning to Charlene. She guessed the episode could be regarded as a grown up thing. Children should not know or experience such things. Some days Bea wasn’t sure if she wanted to grow up. Most days she just went to school, came home, did her chores and never thought about the life she would want for herself. But she knew one thing for sure. She never wanted to live another day like the one she’d experienced yesterday.

Chapter Eight

1937

The continuous echo of chafing saws, men’s grunts, and cracking limbs permeated the woods. Jeremiah dropped his end of the two-man saw and tugged the handkerchief out of his overalls pocket. He yanked off his hat and swiped at the moisture covering his brow. Logging was sweaty work. But the smell of fresh cut wood reminded him this land was his. He had several men working for him during the hay and planting season. With wood cutting going on, the men stayed busy. Some lived on neighboring farms and others lived in a small shack next to the tree line. Since he only owned four work horses, his neighbor Nathaniel, had brought over his teams. Snapping his hat back on, he strode over to one of the harnessed teams of horses. The browns stood docile while he untangled the heavy chains. “Let me give you a hand with that.” Wink. A hard worker and a good friend. “Thanks, Wink. These two won’t give me no trouble. Now, Tom over there . . .” Jeremiah gave a nod to the black and gray belonging to Nathaniel. Several times he’d had to rub his hand down their flanks to keep them calm. “He might need a firm hand.” “Or a gentle one,” Wink winked as he turned to the other horses—which is how he got his nickname. He did it so often, the title stuck. “Look out! Timber!” Jeremiah glanced up as another log fell. Sure enough, the black and gray did a little anxious dance. He didn’t need skittish horses with trees falling around them.

“Tom. Thought these horses been in the woods afore.” “They have. But not when people are yelling ‘Timber’ like Calvin over there. Enough hollering and wood cracking to make any creature skittish.” “Can you handle them?” “Of course I can.” Wink strode over to the team, and snatched the harness of the uneasy horse. “Hey, now. You’re doing a fine job. You just ignore old Calvin. You sure are pretty.” He stroked the velvet nose of the black while Tom handled the gray. “Thanks for the help, Wink. These two are good animals, but I can only coddle one at a time. Gray only gets spooked when the black rears up. But he’s fine now. Ain’t ya boy?” Holding the bit on the black, Wink continued speaking in an easy voice. “Hey now. You’re a right friendly sort.” Tom chuckled. “You fallin’ in love with Nathaniel’s horse?” “Mind your own beeswax. Looks to me, you got a romance going with the gray.” “When you men are done flirting with your beasts, get that log hooked up to the harness.” The animals were calm now and work needed to be done. Maybe it’d be best if Wink stayed with the black. “Jeremiah.” Wink gave a nod over his shoulder. “Look, coming up the path.” He followed Wink’s line of vision and saw a tall, muscled man walking straight toward him. You could tell a lot about a man by the way he walked. His stride sure, the man had a purpose in mind. Jeremiah pulled his handkerchief out again, wiping his hands as he stepped forward to greet the stranger. “Howdy, Mr. Baldwin. My name’s Pullin. Edward Pullin. You can call me Ed.” “Hello, Ed. I’m Jeremiah. You already know my last name.”

“Yes, sir, I do. Everyone here abouts knows your name. You’re right popular.” “Oh? How’s that?” “People say you’re right friendly, a hard worker, and drive a cattle truck. Own a big farm.” As he said the last, he gazed about the woods, then spying one tree in particular, he scanned it all the way to the top. Jeremiah didn’t like to judge people, but he could size a man’s worth fairly quick. He figured Ed used flattery to sweet-talk his intentions or the man spoke a mouth full of hogwash. “Seeing as how you found me, I guess someone from the house gave you directions. What can I do for you, Ed?” “Right. Right.” Ed rubbed his hands together. “I run a sawmill. If you’re interested, I can set up right here on your land. You got some mighty big trees in these woods, Jeremiah. Looks like you’re already cuttin’ some timber.” “We do a lot of wood cuttin’ around here. As you can see, most of it’s done with a two-man saw.” He glanced at the tree where he and Wink had worked earlier and saw men watching the newcomer state his business. “I see you got teams to haul the downed trees. Where ya taking them?” “To the clearing where we can cut ‘em up and load ‘em on my truck.” “I’d like to help you out with that. You can have the use of my sawmill.” Jeremiah studied the man’s expression. His eyes stayed steady, a sign of strength and determination. He seemed respectable enough. “I’m willing to hear what you have in mind.” A smile formed on Ed’s face, and his shoulders relaxed as if he had feared being turned down. He wasn’t quite as confident as he’d first appeared. “You tell me where to set up and I’ll split the logs for ya. I have a circular saw, gas engine.”

“Is that so?” “Yes, sir. I’ve got two men who travel with me; we’d all be looking for a place to stay. One keeps the teeth on the blade sharpened and once we get set up, I’ll order another blade to make sure the saw stays running.” “I imagine we could do a lot of cutting, but I don’t clear cut. I weed out. Want my forest to keep growing, and the animals to have a home.” “I certainly understand that. Why, cutting all the trees off a mountain is just plumb crazy. Who ever heard of a bald mountain?” Ed spoke with enthusiasm, agreeing with Jeremiah. Guess the man figured he had a fish on a hook. Jeremiah was no fool. He’d already thought about having a sawmill on his property. “Say you got men with you?” “Yes, sir. Hard workers. They can set up in no time. No time at all. You let me set up my sawmill, and we can do a right smart business.” Jeremiah studied on it a bit. A smart businessman never appeared too eager. He supposed he could give the man a chance. “You put in an honest day’s work,” he paused, “and I’ll see that you are properly compensated.” He held out his arm. “Why thank you, Mister, uh, Jeremiah. We got ourselves a deal.” The two shook on it. Jeremiah left the men to finish the wood cutting while he walked with Ed down the mountain to the edge of the trees. The man seemed nice enough, and he explained the workings of his saw. Jeremiah described his land in detail, as much as he could, to give a mental diagram of his mountain. They discussed where to set up the mill and the section of trees to be cut. When they stepped into the clearing, the full force of the sun glared down on them. Just beyond the field he saw a wagon hooked up to a 1930 Ford truck. As they drew closer, he spied two men leaning up against the back. Ed quickly introduced the men.

“This here is Jacob, and that’s Tubbs.” Jacob removed his hat and held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Baldwin.” “Likewise, Mr. Baldwin.” The second man offered his hand, also. “Name’s Jeremiah. When you say Baldwin, I think of my granddaddy.” He gave a nod and shook each man’s hand. Firm, strong handshakes—a good sign the men didn’t laze about. “Looks like you’ve got a right smart amount of timber on your land.” The man called Jacob spoke while gazing at the woods behind him. “You fellas showed up at the right time. The sawmill will be good for this farm.” Jeremiah stepped closer to the wagon studying the equipment. Ed moved beside him “This here’s the saw. Like I said, a tractor engine will work just fine. Once you show us the spot, we’ll strap this here belt to the tractor and then fasten it on this wheel.” He lifted a large band and motioned to a metal wheel lying beside a big blade with teeth as big as his fingers. The silver wheel looked mighty sharp. He could imagine the slice that thing would carve once it started spinning. “Wouldn’t want to get a hand too close to that.” “Come pretty close a few times.” Ed lifted one corner of his mouth in a halfsmile. He described a few more items in his wagon. “Those crates have our supplies and a few meager personal items.” “We don’t need much,” Jacob added. “If you have some boards to spare, we can set up a shanty in back of the mill. Just big enough to sleep in.” “I’ve got lumber up in the barn.” Tubbs lifted the lid of one crate. “We got a coffee pot and a few things to do our own cookin’. We won’t be bothering you or none of your kin.” Jeremiah glanced toward the house and didn’t see anyone stirring up there. He figured Maggie must have told Ed where he was. Or the man could have heard

Calvin yelling timber. “Young’uns are in school. They’re bound to be the ones doing the pestering, but they’ll stay out of your way. Wife and a little one at the house.” He made a gesture to the west. “Spring over there. Plenty of water. Come on, I’ll show you where to set up.” Jeremiah hopped in his truck and the three men crawled into the big Ford. A handful of minutes later, they reached the clearing that would be a good spot for the saw mill. The other men agreed. They went to work right away, unloading the wagon and putting things together. Tubbs went with Jeremiah back to the barn to pick up the tractor engine and then he watched while Ed and Jacob hooked it up. Jeremiah ran his farm like clockwork. Not only did he believe in hard work, he was a crafty businessman. He’d hired a man to drive the truck he’d contracted with the State Highway Department; he’d bought another truck for hauling livestock. He’d bought a threshing machine, spent a lot of time on the road with that, and had several men working for him doing the planting and cutting wood. So, having a sawmill would create more jobs. The men would be right thankful about that. A man had to make a living. He kicked the dry ground with the toe of his boot. The boots had seen better days. He might have to go to town and get a new pair. Maybe something for the young’uns. He glanced up at the sky and wondered if wishing would make it rain. They needed rain. Guess the good Lord would send the rain when He thought best. The crank of an engine drew his attention to the spinning blade. “She’s ready to go, Jeremiah.” “I’ll get the men to bring their teams down.” “Looks like someone beat you to it.” Jacob held his hand at the brim of his hat. Jeremiah turned. Sure enough, two teams of horses were headed their way, dragging the trees they’d cut that morning. The three men worked in a rhythm known only to them, making it obvious they

were used to working together. “I think you need a bench, there, to set the logs on. Then you can push the wood up to the saw blade. I can have one made up right quick.” “I’m pretty good with lumber and wood carving,” Tubbs said. “I’d be glad to help you, Mr. Baldwin.” “Jeremiah.” “Yes, sir.” In less than an hour, he and Tubbs had constructed a platform. By the end of the day, they had several logs ready for the logging truck and a pile of firewood.

***

The sun flickering through the tall and slender trees cast a kaleidoscope over the highway. Jeremiah rested his elbow on the ledge of the open window, enjoying the breeze blowing over his neck. The smell of the oak’s growing bark, the earth’s fertile dirt, and the sound of rustling leaves brought him a vibrant feeling of energy. He drove the logging truck up the main street and turned into Rexrode’s store. He had a gas pump at the corner of his lot. Jeremiah stopped his truck right beside the gas pump. The lumber mill was a few miles outside of Monterey, so he decided to fill up while he had the chance. Dewey, the man who drove his truck for the highway department, had wanted to ride along. Before every job, Jeremiah chose sections of trees on his property to be marked for cutting. He’d explained many times, no clear cutting on his land. A forest needed trees. God’s animals needed a place to live and he sure didn’t want his fields flooding. Sorting out a few here and there helped the surrounding trees to grow. He had some mighty big trees on his mountain. Proof was now lying in the bed of his logging truck.

He’d found the granddaddy of all trees at the top of the mountain behind his house. It took them nearly a day just to cut the thing down. And another day and a half to work up the limbs and branches. Still, he could only fit a portion of the massive trunk on the back of his truck. This morning they’d used several chains to work up a harness just to get the thing on the twenty-foot bed, and it still hung over the end. Dewey crowed with excitement to be toting the huge log. Jeremiah pulled the brake and shut off the truck’s engine. Before he could open his door, Dewey spoke. “Want me to check the oil while you gas up?” “That would be good. Rexrode lets us use his pump, but he hasn’t hired anyone to help out. One day he plans to expand and hire a mechanic. Might as well check the water in the radiator, too. Fairly heavy load we’re hauling.” Jeremiah opened his door and climbed down. He grabbed the nozzle from the petro tank thinking he should have gassed up before he left the farm. He had his own tank put in down by the barn. Sure came in handy with all the trucks and tractors and other engines on his property. He reached in his pocket for his small tablet and a pencil to jot down the amount of fuel. Rexrode trusted men to be honest when they paid him for the gas. He touched the end of his pencil lead to his tongue and scribbled. He didn’t notice Wilbur walking up behind him. “Where did you find that?” Jeremiah stuck the pencil in his pocket, swiped a hand down his overalls, and shook Wilbur’s hand. “Hello, Wilbur.” “That on your land?” “Yep. Smack dab on top.” “She’s a big one.” Wilbur rocked on his heels as he stared up at the log. “Had to alternate teams of men with the saw to get her down in one day.” While he stood talking to Wilbur, word spread around town. A crowd gathered to see the tree log on Jeremiah’s truck. Of course, Eunice came down when she heard. She had to take a picture for the paper.

“Get up there, Jeremiah. Let me take your picture standing in front of that log.” “You want my picture?” “It’s as wide as you are tall. Stand up there. I’m gonna put this in The Recorder so folks can see how big it is.” He climbed up on the bed and smiled when Dewey hopped up beside him. Even with the tree on its side, his head measured about even height with the trunk. “Now hold still. And say cheese.” Eunice took her picture and then the crowd clapped. If he had to say so himself, he was a mite proud.

Chapter Nine

The air was hot and thick. Maggie tugged the clinging fabric of her dress away from her warm skin as she walked down the lane to the lower section. A droning noise drifted to her, meaning the mill was in full operation. She pulled the little wagon with lemonade, knowing the workers would be thirsty. With a sway in her step, she strolled to the buzzing saw just up ahead. As she rounded the bend she saw the men in action. A team of horses stood close to the edge of the woods, while one man worked with chains attached to a long log. Another man lifted an ax above his powerful shoulders, then brought the blade down with a mighty thump. Two more men hefted a log onto a wooden platform, and the greedy saw’s teeth attacked with gusto, searing through the meat of the wood. All that bustling looked like a beehive of activity down there. With so many naked chests, sweat glistening on their skin, she knew they would appreciate a cool drink. A shanty stood at the tree line; she supposed one or two had set up their temporary home. She knew Jeremiah had hired men to help, but she didn’t recognize the ones at the wagon. Today was stockyard day. Every Friday, Jeremiah drove to Stanley taking neighbors’ stock to market, and sometimes bringing new bulls or cows or pigs back home. He wouldn’t cotton to the idea of her being at the mill. Especially with the men half-naked. But she sure enjoyed the sight. Strong bodies showing off their big muscles, it was enough to make a woman sigh. She was only a few feet from the wagon when the man running the saw spotted her. A flash of surprise lit his dark eyes. He quickly reached one arm out and turned a lever. Her eyes glued to his thick muscles as they flexed with his movement. The saw stopped, making the silence seem more deafening than the roar of the spinning blade. The workers paused to look in their direction, but she had eyes only for him. He gave her a blinding smile.

“Well, hello.” His greeting snapped her out of her stupor. “Hello. I’m Maggie.” He studied her for a moment, then the look in his eyes grew warm with appreciation. “Name’s Ed.” “I thought you might like a cool drink. Fresh spring water makes a good lemonade.” She gestured to the three brown jugs sitting in the little, wood wagon. “Why thank you, Maggie.” As if he suddenly ed the men behind him, he turned. “That’s Jacob and Tubbs over there.” “Ma’am.” Both men tipped their fingers to their hats “You might already know Henry.” Henry had worked on their farm two years running. With the team’s harness reins in his hands, he gave Maggie a nod. “You men come on over and get a cool drink.” “Much obliged.” Henry dropped the leather on the ground and hurried forward. He held a jug to help her fill the tin cups. Then he took one for himself. “That hit the spot.” Jacob had guzzled his and now filled his cup again. More gulps and sighs of appreciation, then the men went back to their work. Except for Ed. He reached around and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. She’d noticed the generous dusting of black hair spread across his chest and how it matched the dark curl falling across his brow. She took a step closer, the tin cup in her hand. He smelled of sawdust and sweat. His bare skin gleamed in the afternoon sun. Muscles rippled as he wiped at the sweat on his brow and his neck. She made a point of appearing unaffected, but she was aware of his every movement. She couldn’t help it. Her gaze drifted lower to his belt buckle; there wasn’t an ounce

of flab on his taut stomach. “You didn’t need to go to this trouble, Maggie.” His slow grin melted her insides, but the tone of his voice triggered currents running up her arms. “It was no trouble at all,” she said with a smile. She told herself it was foolhardy, but she couldn’t resist the light flirtation. “Gotta get back up the hill,” Henry called. “Thanks again, Maggie.” He snapped the reins and the powerful horses clopped over the field headed for the wood line. “You tell the rest of the men there’s cool lemonade down here,” she called after him. “I’ll do that.” He gave her a wink. The gesture had been harmless, but she enjoyed a man’s kind attention. When she turned back to Ed, he studied her with interest. A heated scrutiny. Her hands twined nervously in the material at her waist. Nerves? Or expectation? She knew she had to be careful with the other men about. The trick was to encourage his flirtation while attempting to be indifferent. “You are charming, Maggie.” His voice sounded like liquid silk, pouring over her warm skin. Her gaze locked onto his. Instant attraction. Harlan had moved on. It had been a while since she’d heard a man’s sweet words. And Ed’s eyes promised more. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He reminded her she was a woman, with a woman’s desires. It had been a while, but she recognized that look. His dark eyes glittered with intensity causing her blood to heat and her heart to pump wildly. “And you smell good, too. Why, you smell like something a man could close his eyes and wallow in.” In that moment, she forgot where she was, and she didn’t care who was

watching. Her body reacted to his.

***

Bea stared at the book on her desk and tried to concentrate. It was just plain boring. Who cared about the French Revolution anyway? There were other things happening in her home for her to worry about. Like hearing her mom and dad arguing. How was she supposed to write an essay when she couldn’t even focus on the words written in her book? Suddenly, the door to the classroom burst open and slammed against the wall. She must have jumped a foot in her seat. And she wasn’t the only one. Every kid in the class stared at Wade, even the teacher. His eyes were big and his chest heaved in panting breaths. “Bea! You gotta come quick.” “Wade. What is the meaning of you bursting in here? What has happened?” “It’s Frosty, Mrs. Sponagle. He’s havin’ a fit.” Bea’s body tensed. She understood exactly what Wade meant. Sometimes Frosty would kind of go out of his head and shake. Mama called it convulsions. She would hold him for a while and then he’d be okay. “Where’s your teacher?” “She sent me to get Bea. She’s holdin’ him down. He’s on the floor flopping around. His eyes rolled up in his brain.” Several gasps echoed off the walls. The scene Wade described scared them all. Bea’s legs were running before she realized she’d jumped from her chair. She ran down the hall behind Wade to her brother’s classroom. With everyone standing around in a circle, she didn’t see him right away.

“I got her,” Wade yelled. Several students moved back and she saw Frosty on the floor. His whole body was jumping and someone had put something in his mouth. Mrs. Simmons held his arms, and two boys held his legs. “Bea. Has he ever done this before?” Unable to move, she stared in fear. She’d never seen him this bad. “Bea,” his teacher spoke louder. She jerked to the woman’s voice. “Uh, sort of. Why does he have a spoon in his mouth?” “So he won’t bite his tongue.” “Yeah, he might bite it clear off,” one of the kids yelled. A shiver ran up her spine at the terrible thought. “Hush, Jimmy,” the teacher told him. Frosty stopped flopping. He seemed almost asleep. “Is he dead?” “No.” Mrs. Simmons glared at Jimmy. “Don’t say such things. You’re scaring the other children.” Frosty’s eyes fluttered and then slowly opened. When he saw everyone standing around him, he got scared. Mrs. Simmons removed the spoon and told the other boys to let him go. Frosty scampered to Bea and threw his arms around her, crying in muffled sobs. She hugged him back. “You’re okay now. Don’t worry.” “All right, children. Back to your seats.” There were scuffles and whispers, but Bea ignored them. At the moment, all she cared about was the death grip her brother had on her. She wasn’t sure who was

more scared. Him or her. “Bea.” She looked up at the sound of the teacher’s voice. “I think he should go home. The principal will take you.” “Yes ma’am.”

***

Hurriedly, Maggie washed under her arms to get the day’s grime off her body. Jeremiah would be gone a few more hours yet. She had plenty of time. Just in case, she’d take Bea with her. She pulled her blue dress, that had seen too many washings, from the armoire and hoped Ed would not notice. He’d called her pretty. She wanted to be pretty. Her breathing hitched. She didn’t know why she did the things she did. Being with another man was wrong; she didn’t want to it how wrong. Some days she hated herself, but she refused to wallow into that dark hole. She was still young. Some days all she could think about was getting out. Leaving. But right now, the only thing on her mind was the fire that burned through her at Ed’s words. His deep voice had sent a thunder of chills down her back while his eyes had singed her with their blazing heat. She just couldn’t deny him. She fastened her dress, stepped into her shoes, and took a deep breath before opening her bedroom door. Bea sat on the couch waiting for her. Maggie took one quick look in the mirror over the mantel. Her cheeks were flushed, her excitement visible. “Come on.” “Where we going, Mama?” Bea asked as they stepped onto the porch.

“For a quick errand.” Her hand shook as she turned the key. The car’s engine roared to life. She pushed in the clutch, shoved the lever into first gear, and down the road they went. In only a few moments, she pulled the car off onto a dirt road. The last streaks of orange filtered the sky where the sun settled on the horizon. Dusk fell quickly. An old truck was parked beside a little shack. He was here. She stopped her car in front and pulled the brake. “You wait here.” Before Bea could say a word, Maggie hopped out of the car. A cool breeze blew across her neck, so she tugged her shawl over her shoulders. She gave one last glance behind her to see Bea in the car staring out her side window. Doubt trickled into Maggie’s mind. The door to the shack opened, casting a ray of light across the wooden boards of the porch. Ed stepped into the doorway, bathed in shadow from the light of a fire inside. “I’m not sure . . . I don’t think we should do this.” “Then why are you here, Maggie?” Good Lord, his voice. Tremors racked her body. She knew exactly why she was here. With one hand, he drew her forward and silently closed the door. His mouth covered hers and Maggie was instantly drawn into his snare. When he pressed her back against the door, her body reacted instantly. There was no more time for thinking. There would be time for uncertainty tomorrow.

Chapter Ten

On a June night after the sun had gone down, Jeremiah sat on a chair beside the porch swing, gazing at the few stars sprinkled across a dark sky. His day began at the crack of dawn and ended long after dark. Peace, calm, the only hours of a long day where he could sort his demanding thoughts. He rolled his shoulders, then stretched one arm along the railing on the porch. His muscles were tired, evidence of hard work of which he was proud. Proud of his labors, and what he had accomplished. He’d provided for his family. Dark as black, nothing else could be seen. Not the mountain’s ridge in the distance, or the fields of wheat swaying in the evening breeze. Even the tall trees along the forest’s edge blended without a hint of distinction. The deafening sound of crickets chirped in the night. Though seeming harsh, their boisterous clamor reminded him other beings took up residence around him. Moments like these were few. Quiet, alone, time for thinking. And ing. Reminiscing about his grandfather and how they spent many nights on this porch, sitting in the dark at the end of a long day. The hay was in, the stock had been fed, the children gone to their beds—now his mind could wander. If he allowed it, the hardships and worries would crowd in, stealing his peace. He didn’t worry a whole lot about money. There was food on the table, his children had a bed. Although he drove a truck for hire, he didn’t charge much. He believed in helping people. Whatever a neighbor gave him was fine. He hauled pigs and cattle. Tomorrow was Friday and he’d go to the stockyard. Hopefully make a dollar. There was always more work to be done. Behind the house the woods were the thickest. Then there was another section of trees on the north side. He needed to check the fence line over the ridge. He made a mental note to have Henry start cutting trees on that section next. He’d move the cattle to the field on the east

side. Skippy wagged his tail, thumping it on the porch. The dog was black with white splotches all over him, as though someone threw a paint brush at him while he was running around the yard. He smiled at the recollection when Bea named the dog. Where in the world had she come up with Skippy? Bea. Her birthday was in two weeks. He couldn’t believe she’d be twelve. It seemed like it was only a few years ago he’d waited so anxiously for her to make her appearance into the world. The girl made him proud. She had a sense of responsibility about her; watched over her siblings, performed her duties without being asked. She took care of Lucy like a little mother hen. Maybe he didn’t get to spend a lot of time with his family. Maybe he mostly saw Maggie at dinner or when they went to bed. But he tried to make up for it on Sunday. Physical, back-breaking work kept this farm going. But on Sunday, he took his rest—as much as he could. The stock still had to be fed and there were chores to be done. But his long hours in the woods and hay making and planting crops in the fields were done the other days in the week. Sunday, he and his family and any neighbor that happened by would sit down to a big dinner. Then he took his walk through the pasture or over the meadow. Yep. Maggie took care of the house and the young’uns for her daily routine. But he took them to church on Sunday and stayed close to the house for the rest of the day. Yet tonight, his peace was disturbed. A calm night with only the sound of crickets and a distant hoot-owl which usually relaxed him, for some unknown feeling had him on edge. Sitting under the moon’s glow with the ridge of the mountain silhouetted, his land had always given him comfort. But there was no solace tonight, for he couldn’t shake the disturbing idea that all was not well. Not anything bad, necessarily. More of a bother, or a hassle. Skippy yawned, drawing his attention to the dog lying beside the swing. Jeremiah dropped his arm down to rub the dog’s head. Time to go to bed. Nothing to worry about tonight.

***

Bea hunkered down on her knees to give the muscles in her legs a break. She and Mama had been in the garden for hours and they were almost finished picking beans. She loved green beans. Holding one of the pods close to her nose, she took a deep breath. Fresh dirt and something minty tickled her nose. They sure tasted better than they smelled. She tossed the beans into her bucket and reached for the next plant. Razz and Charles came tearing around the front corner fence. They’d gone down to the barn where Charles had tied a tire on one of the big trees. Those two were always fighting. But something must have happened because Charles was running for his life with Razz hot on his tail. Charles headed for the house and Razz stopped at the grindstone where Dad had some tools. Razz grabbed the monkey wrench lying on top, and flung it at his brother. Bea watched as if in slow motion the object flew through the air and smacked Charles right in the head. He dropped like a dead rock. It took her a minute to figure out what she’d just seen. Holy cow. Her mouth fell open and she gawked at Razz. His eyes looked ready to pop out of his head. The shrill scream behind her made her jump. Good Lord. Mama. She ran past Bea, screaming. Bea jumped up and followed. Charles lay on the ground, out like a dead possum. Between seeing her brother’s still body and listening to her mother’s screams, Bea didn’t know which scared her more. Frosty dropped to the other side of Charles and looked up to Bea with fear in his eyes. “He’ll be okay, Frosty. He’s too mean not to be.” Her voice shook and she hoped her brother would be all right. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved. Mama climbed to her feet and ran to Razz. She smacked and whacked, yelling at

him as she did. He threw up his arms to cover his head, but she kept on swinging her hands. “I didn’t mean it, Mama.” “You vile child. What is wrong with you? You done went and kilt your brother.” Bea ran to help. “Mama, stop. Mama, stop!” But she wouldn’t listen. She grabbed a leather strap form the fence post and swung, hitting Razz across the back. He fell to the ground. She kept yelling and hitting him. Some of the stuff she shrieked didn’t make any sense. Razz was crying hard now and Bea knew he was hurt. She didn’t know what to do. Dad’s truck pulled up at the barn. “Dad! Dad!” Bea waved her arms and yelled. Seeing her, he drove the truck on up to the house. Thank goodness she’d gotten his attention. He jumped out and came running. “What’s going on here? Maggie. Maggie!” He grabbed Mama and pulled her off Razz. Her brother’s arms quivered over his head as he lay whimpering on the ground. Bea crouched beside him, wanting to help. She placed a palm on his back. He flinched. “He’s awake,” Frosty shouted. Charles rallied up, rubbing the back of his head. Confusion covered his face as he took in the scene around him. He seemed all right. More than likely, he’d have a knot. But he fared better than his brother. “Razz, Honey. It’s Bea.” He peeked between his arms, then grabbed her, clutching her shoulders. “I didn’t mean it,” he blurted in between sobs. She went to rub his back and ed his flinch from earlier. Her heart ripped open. Her mother must have lost her mind. With Charles and Frosty’s help, she got Razz inside. As they ed their

parents’ room, she could hear her mother crying and her dad’s muffled voice. They took Razz upstairs and put him on his bed. Bea sat with him until he fell asleep.

***

Maggie snapped the bean in three sections and tossed the pieces into a bowl. Sitting in her porch swing helped to clear her head. She had a lot to think about. The sound of a truck engine drew her attention. She glanced up, seeing a cloud of dust behind Jeremiah’s truck. Unusual for him to leave the woods in the middle of the day. His hat shadowed his face, but she saw the hard angle of his jaw. She picked up another green bean and broke off the end. Jeremiah’s boots clomped up the porch steps. “Maggie. Got something on my mind.” “I’m listening.” She snapped another bean. “Let’s step in the house.” She lifted her gaze. His brows slanted over somber eyes that were focused on her. Something was brewing under his skin. “All right.” She rose from the swing and preceded him inside. “Has Ed been keeping you company?” Maggie’s heart jumped into her throat. When Jeremiah said he wanted to talk to her and brought her into their bedroom, she couldn’t imagine what he had to say. She thought she’d been careful. Now he was asking her outright. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Jeremiah.” She braced her hands on her hips. “What in tarnation are you talking about?”

“You’ve been down to the sawmill. Taking lemonade.” “So I took something to drink to the men. It’s hot outside. Those men are cutting down trees and splitting logs and such. It’s hard labor, Jeremiah. Why, you yourself come in here sweating and smelling like a barnyard hog.” “I hear things, Maggie. I see the way you look at him. I see the way you dress and get all sweet smelling.” “Anything would smell sweet to you after a day on the farm.” “You don’t need to be coming around the men.” “I work hard, too, Jeremiah. I cook and wash and clean and take care of your young’uns. I’m stuck in this house all day. When I’m outside it’s to hang the wash, and milk the cows, and bring in wood. I’ve had a baby hanging on my teat every year we been married.” “What are you saying? You can come and go as you please. Bussy is three years old now. Bea helps out a lot. The others can take care of themselves.” “Yeah? And what about you?” “I work the land and make a home for my family. I’m outside before dawn and it’s dark before I come inside.” “That’s just it. You work all day. You’re digging in the dirt or chopping down trees or wallowing in shit at the stockyard. Every day. All day. What about me?” “What about you?” Maggie fisted her hands, holding them at her temples which pounded with fury. Was he blind? She stepped to the window, staring out the sheer curtain. As far as she could see, the land belonged to Jeremiah. Acres of woods, meadows, and the stream running through it. In the middle of nowhere. “This farm,” she spat like it was a dirty word, “has been part of your family for four generations. Your legacy, for more generations to come.” “We both know exactly how you feel about this farm.” She heard the anger in his

voice. She spun around. “Yes, I hate it. I hate every day.” She wasn’t prepared for the surprise on his face. Was he shocked at her confession or surprised by her venom? His startled expression quickly changed to one of ire. “This farm and my family stand for everything I’ve been taught. Everything I’ve ever believed in. I’ve earned this land through birthright and hard work. Yes, we’ve suffered. Yes, we both have sacrificed. But one day, this land will belong to our children.” He took a threatening step forward. She’d never seen him so mad. The more he spoke, the louder his voice grew. “I want to establish values and integrity in our children, but I also want them to see the value of our land, to love this land.” “Love the land,” she huffed infuriating him further. “For God’s sake, Maggie, this is our home. Our children’s inheritance.” Now she knew she was in trouble. He’d never yelled so. And he never—never— used the Lord’s name without humility. “We have six children—” “I know how many young’uns are in this house. I born each one.” She snapped at him, unsure if it was in anger or fear. “I’m beginning to wonder . . .” He mumbled in a voice filled with disgust. Wonder what? She’d had enough. Enough of everything. She was so tired. With a slump, she fell back on the bed and started to cry. “When I first discovered you were gone, I wondered if you were with him.” Tears streamed down her face; she didn’t answer. She wouldn’t confirm or deny his accusations. “Don’t cry, Maggie. Crying doesn’t solve a thing. He’s gone.”

She swiped at her eyes, Jeremiah’s words slowly ing in her mind. “Did you hear what I said? He’s gone.” “What . . .” “Ed. Jacob and Tubbs, too. The sawmill is gone.” “What do you mean gone?” She swallowed her tears and tried to focus on what Jeremiah was saying. “I told him to leave. To pack up and get out.” She stared at her husband, his body taut with tension, his eyes glowing with conviction. “Oh.” He threw his hat across the room. “Is that all you have to say?” “What do you want me to say? The sawmill is gone. The men who ran it are gone. So?” “So? You don’t care?” “Why should I care? You’re the one who set up the mill on our property. I guess you can be the one to determine when it leaves.” Jeremiah was behaving strangely. She didn’t care if the mill left. It wasn’t like she cared about Ed. He was just a man who happened to be there. Jeremiah shook his head. He thrust a hand through what hair he had on his head. “You don’t care.” “No, Jeremiah. I don’t care who you hire or who you get rid of. Like you said. This is your land.” He stared at her as if she’d just sprouted two heads. Then he grabbed his hat and jerked the door with enough force it banged against the bedroom wall. She released the pent up air from her lungs.

Her chest fell with the weight of the world resting on her shoulders.

Chapter Eleven

1938

Bea had a bounce in her step on her way to the chicken coop. A spring breeze blew the scent of honeysuckle from the vines farther up on the hill. She liked to pop the buds before they bloomed and suck the sweet juice from the stem. Maybe when they got home from school this afternoon, she’d take Lucy to the honeysuckle bush. The hens squawked their displeasure of her confiscating their eggs. She shooed them outside to where she’d thrown some grain on the ground. Gathering the eggs, she returned to the house and helped Mama set the table for breakfast. Before long, they sat down to eat. Dad talked about his plans for the day. Since the sun shone bright, he planned to be in the hay field this week. “Charles and Razz, you boys will stay home and make hay today.” Both boys seemed mighty pleased at the announcement. Making hay on a hot day? She’d rather be in school. “Can I stay home too, Dad?” Frosty asked. “You go with your sisters.” “Aw shucks.” He dropped his head and frowned. Lucy came into the kitchen, a rag doll clutched under her arm. She climbed onto her chair and Bea added eggs to her plate. “Why does Frosty want to stay home?” “Razz and Charles are staying home to make hay. Frosty thought he could, too,” Bea answered her.

“Can I help, too?” “No, Lucy girl. You go to school.” Dad pointed with his biscuit while he spoke. “I like school. I get to ride the bus.” “Wish the bus came to the house.” Frosty liked riding the bus, too. “You use the legs God gave you, boy. No slug about for my sons.” Dad believed in hard work and no laziness. If one of her siblings complained about the walk to the school bus, or any work on the farm, Dad reminded them real quick to be thankful for what they had. When breakfast was over, Dad grabbed his hat and headed out the door with Charles and Razz trailing close behind. Bussy made sounds of waking up, so while Mama went to get him, Bea took Lucy upstairs to finish dressing. They had to walk about a mile or so to catch the school bus, so sometimes they cut across a neighbor’s field. On this particular day, as luck would have it, the Heavener boys met up with them at the same time. Jake and Kyle were bigger than her brothers and, most times, they weren’t very nice. “Well lookie here?” “What you want Kyle?” Bea asked. “Nothin’. On our way to school, like you.” Frosty had already scrambled over the fence, so Bea slipped through and then reached for Lucy. Jake poked Kyle and whispered something. They were probably up to no good. “You might want to take the long way.” Kyle’s words made Bea’s temper spike. He wasn’t telling her what to do. She kept walking. “Your dad has always let us cross on his farm.” “Ain’t got nothing to do with my dad,” Jake answered.

“Just warning ya, is all.” She glared at Kyle. “Warning me? From what?” “See that bull over there?” Three pairs of eyes immediately turned to the cows in the field. The same field they’d just crossed into. Lucy tugged on Bea’s dress. Frosty stepped closer. Jake and Kyle were scaring them. “All I see is cows.” “Our pa got a new bull,” Jake boasted. “He’s in back of them cows. He could get ya.” Bea didn’t know if Jake was joshing or not. And she couldn’t tell if the big black animal staring at her was a cow or a bull. “He looks okay to me.” “Yesterday he charged at Kyle.” “Kyle musta done something” “I didn’t do nothin’. Cept walk in this field.” She squinted her eyes at Kyle. “So why are you in this field again today? I think you’re making this up.” She couldn’t back down in front of Kyle and Jake. “Were you waving a red flag? Bulls don’t like red.” “Nope. Our bull don’t like blue.” Now she knew they were pulling her leg. Just then, Lucy cried, “I’m scared.” “Now see what you’ve done.” She glared at Kyle and Jake, but they started walking faster. She tugged on Lucy’s arm, trying to keep up with them. When they picked up their pace, she thought maybe they weren’t joking. “Hey, wait up,” she called after them. “Why are you walking so fast?” “Cause you got on a blue coat.” Jake laughed and both boys took off running.

Kyle turned his head, singing over his shoulder. “Bull’s gonna get you. Bull’s gonna get you.” Lucy started to cry. Bea picked her up and ran as fast as she could, checking to be sure Frosty kept up. No need to worry there. The boy ran like a jackrabbit.

***

There was nothing better than bread fresh out of the oven. It always made Bea’s mouth water. “Supper’s almost ready.” Mama pointed a spatula toward her. “You go round up your brothers.” Bea hurried to do just that. Since the boys had been down at the barn, they went to the springhouse to wash up. Lucy and Bussy were sitting at the table when Bea came back inside. Dad always made the children wait until he said the blessing. When he finished, he picked up the first bowl, took what he wanted and ed it around the table. Tonight, Mama had fried rabbit. They had rabbit a lot. But they also had mashed potatoes with gravy, beets, turnips, green beans and, of course, Mama’s warm bread. “I’m scared of the bull.” Dad paused with the bread only inches from his mouth. Then he lowered his hand and stared at Lucy. “What bull?” “That mean bull.” Dad glanced at Bea with his brow raised. Bea hadn’t decided whether or not to tell her dad. Guess she had no choice now. “Kyle and Jake scared Lucy this morning.” Scared her, too, if she had to it it.

“Is that so?” Dad rested his hand on the edge of the table without taking a bite of his bread. “Those Heavener boys?” Mama got all flustered. “Those boys are about as far from Heaven as they can get.” “Now Maggie.” “Don’t you now Maggie me. You know those boys were up to no good.” “Yes, Dad.” She may as well tell him all of it. “They said the bull would get us.” “Yeah, Daddy. I’m scared of the bull.” Lucy ran around the table and crawled up on Mama’s lap. “Hmmm.” Her dad frowned. She recognized that look. He was thinking pretty hard, which meant someone would be on the receiving end of his displeasure. “Leroy didn’t say anything about a new bull.” “They said their bull don’t like blue and Bea had on a blue coat. Then they said the bull was gonna get us.” The more Frosty talked, the more excited he got. “Now see there,” Mama huffed. “I told ya.” “That true, Bea?” “Yes sir. And we all were scared.” “Not you, Bea,” Frosty argued. “She wasn’t scared. She talked back to Kyle.” She was, too, scared. Dad leveled his stare on her, making her shift in her chair. The bull might have scared her, but thinking she might be in trouble with her dad for talking back to Kyle frightened her, too. She had been protecting Lucy and Frosty, taking up for herself. Besides, Kyle was the same age as her. “I told him they looked like cows. And we’d crossed the field before.” “You crossed the field to take a short cut?”

“Yes sir.” “Were there other cows in that field?” “Yes sir.” “Leroy wouldn’t put a new bull in a field with his cows. He’d separate them. Those boys must have been picking on you.” “Them mean boys. They were teasing.” Mama rocked Lucy from side to side, mimicking her rocking chair. “Don’t cut through there no more. Not till I talk with Leroy.” Bea’s shoulder’s relaxed in relief. Jake and Kyle received the focus of Dad’s irritation, not her. Razz leaned over to Charles. “We’ll take care of them tomorrow.” Then he whispered to her. “Sis. Me and Charles will take care of Jake and Kyle. You won’t be scared no more.” Razz was always fighting, but he acted like her protector. Even four years younger, he seemed to look out for Bea.

***

Jeremiah pondered the best approach of the topic uppermost in his mind as he drove over to the Heavener farm. Maggie about had a conniption fit and he didn’t cotton to those boys scaring Lucy. He’d not planned to make a special trip to discuss the cow incident. Since Leroy wanted some buckwheat, Jeremiah figured this delivery would be a perfect opportunity to bring up the issue. When he pulled up next to the barn, the man had his head buried in the front of his tractor. Hearing the truck, Leroy glanced up and waved. “Howdy, Jeremiah.”

“Hello, Leroy. Thought I’d bring that buckwheat you asked for.” Leroy grabbed a rag and wiped off his hands. “Right kindly of you, Jeremiah.” “Something wrong with your tractor?” “Dad blasted thing won’t start. Black smoke came out of her yesterday.” “That doesn’t sound too good.” Jeremiah leaned over to look at the engine. He knew more about driving than fixing, but he could take a look. “Put a call in to Hiner,” Leroy said from behind. “He’s knows a thing or two about tractors.” “Yep. If anyone knows what’s wrong, it will be him.” Leroy threw the rag up on top of the folded hood. Jeremiah thought now might be a good time to bring up the bull. “I heard you bought a bull. Sorry, I didn’t get to haul your new bull in my truck.” “No.” Leroy met his gaze. “I didn’t buy no bull. Where’d you hear that?” “Well,” Jeremiah took off his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. “Seems your boys told Bea and Lucy you had a bull in the field while they were on their way to school yesterday morning. Lucy got real scared and Bea had to bring her back home.” Leroy tugged his collar as his face grew red. The man did a lot of cussing under his breath. “Sorry about that, Jeremiah. Is Lucy all right now?” “She’s got something to keep her busy.” His chest got tight when he ed the time she darn near fell in the hog pen when Lulabell had her pigs, and how close she’d come to being trampled. “Had another litter of piglets. I brought a runt up to the house and put him in a crate. You’d a thought I hung the moon the way her face lit up. Lucy bottle feeds him and she gets to play with a pet pig.” He shook his head as he ed the image of her with the piglet on her lap. He slapped his hat back on his head.

“Glad to hear she’s doing fine. As for them boys of mine, they know better. I’ll take care of it.” He gave a sharp nod. Seeing the anger on the man’s face, Jeremiah thought he should calm Leroy down a bit. “No sense taking them boys to the woodshed. They were having harmless fun. Wouldn’t like to see Lucy scared again, that’s all.” A fierce glint entered Leroy’s eye. “They won’t be scaring little Lucy again.

Chapter Twelve

1939

Everywhere Maggie turned, she ran into another cousin or uncle from Illinois. They’d bombarded the farm two weeks ago, acting like they lived there. Maybe Jeremiah’s uncles had been born on the land, but now it belonged to Jeremiah, and he’d made it his home. Hopefully, his kin would be leaving in another week. As far as she was concerned, the moment for their departure could not come soon enough. With so many uncles and cousins visiting, the relatives’ presence caused her extra work, taking up too much of her time. If she wanted a moment’s peace, there was none to be had—not to mention their constant vigil kept her close to the house. If she wanted to take off in the car, one of them fancied going with her. It made her want to pull her hair out. She stepped out the back door heading to the cellar to get some potatoes and turnips for supper. Just as she lifted her hand to the gate, a high-pitched voice froze her in her tracks. “Where ya going?” Sally. Two more steps and Maggie would have been out of sight. The latch clicked as she swung open the gate. “To the cellar.” “I’ll come with you.” “I’m just going to get a few potatoes and turnips,” she said while she circled around the building. She set her basket on the ground and grabbed the rusted metal, pulling the bolt from the fastener on the door, then slipped inside. Sally followed her.

“Nothin’s changed.” She sniffed. “Still smells like wet dirt.” “It’s a cellar. Dirt, bins, vegetables. What did you expect to change?” Maggie’s mood had been sour, but she didn’t have to take it out on Sally. The woman hadn’t done anything to deserve discourtesy. And Maggie had never been mean to anyone. “Looks like you’ll need to stock up before much longer.” “We’ll be hoeing the garden soon,” Maggie said in a kinder voice. “Probably next week.” “We’ll still be here. We can help.” Maggie glanced up in surprise. Sally hadn’t done much since she’d been here. It would be nice if the family would pull some of their own weight. “That would be nice, Sally. I’m sure Jeremiah would appreciate it.” Maggie filled her basket and stepped out into the sunshine. Sally fastened the door behind her. “Where’s your truck patch?” “Up on the hill, yonder.” Maggie pointed to a spot on the next hill. “Jeremiah will plow it up and we’ll be planting again for next winter.” “Got anything in it now?” “Nope, used it all.” Maggie answered and opened the gate. Again, Sally closed it. They walked side by side across the yard to the house. Then Sally held the door open while Maggie stepped into the kitchen. She dumped the potatoes and turnips into the sink and washed them. “What are ya gonna put in it?” Maggie thought for a moment, then realized Sally was talking about the truck patch. “We usually plant potatoes, turnips, cabbage, rutabagas. Whatever we get out of our garden. I already set aside some things in the bottom bin out in the cellar.”

“You two fixing supper?” Maggie cringed at the new voice. Wilbur might be Jeremiah’s cousin, but he gave orders to his wife like she’d been put on this earth to serve him. He talked to all women the same way. Get me that. Fetch me this. Humph. Didn’t the man do anything for himself? She saw Sally plant her hands on her hips. Undoubtedly, his aunt had the same opinion. “Wilbur, you just git on back outside. Ain’t been that long since you ate.” “I’m starving.” He leaned over Maggie’s shoulder. “What you got there? Just give me one of those.” Sally smacked his hand. Good thing, because if she hadn’t a done that, Maggie might have been tempted to smack him with her butcher knife. “Stay out of those. That’s your supper. And if’n you don’t behave, you ain’t getting none.” “Ah, come on, Sally.” His needling voice grated on Maggie’s nerves. “What’s going on?” Lee entered the kitchen. He was Jeremiah’s uncle, also Sally’s brother and Wilbur’s father. The apple didn’t fall far from that tree. She couldn’t imagine GW raising his boy to be a lag-a-bon. Wilbur must have learned his idleness from his wife. “These women won’t give me nothin’ to eat.” If that boy didn’t get out of her kitchen, she’d show him he wasn’t too big for her to tan his hide. “Well, I’m hungry, too.” “You’re always hungry, Lee.” Maggie agreed with Sally. Since the bunch had been here, all they did was eat. That caused Maggie to spend most all of her day in the kitchen. By the time she cleaned up one set of dishes, she had to cook the next meal. A bunch of

freeloaders, that’s what they were. “A button came off my shirt. I could use a clean one.” “I guess I can sew on a button,” Sally replied. “You’ll have to ask Maggie when wash day is.” Ask Maggie. The hair stood on the back of her head. She cut a chunk out of the potato she held so tight, her hand cramped from the grip. Not only did she have to cook for them, but they expected her to wash their clothes. “If you’re so dang hungry, ya’ll git out of my kitchen so I can cook.” Lee and Wilbur mumbled as Sally shooed them out. Maggie glared at their retreating backs. One more week.

***

The sun peeked over the horizon launching streaks of gold and orange across the morning sky. A few men of the Ruritan group had planned a trip to the World’s Fair in New York. Jeremiah had been excited, and him leaving suited Maggie just fine. She leaned back in her porch swing, enjoying the rocking motion while Jeremiah and Wink waited for another member who should be on his way to pick the men up. Jeremiah took out his pocket watch, the one he was never without. His grandfather had given it to him just before he died. The old gentleman and his wife were good people. Maggie’s husband may not realize it, but she missed them, too. The children had just left for school. No need for them to see their dad taking off for a fair when they couldn’t go, so he’d waited. Wink gazed down the lane

while Jeremiah paced back and forth over the planked porch. “Put your watch away, Jeremiah. Looking at it won’t get us there any faster.” Wink was kind and funny and interacted with her children. He’d be a good traveling companion. Jeremiah placed his timepiece back in its special pocket. “Day’s a wastin’.” “We’re not in a hurry. We got a long drive ahead of us.” “Don’t be fooled, Wink,” Maggie spoke up. “He’s thinking about the work not getting done while he’s taking time off to go to the World’s Fair.” Maggie kicked her foot to keep the swing in motion. “I don’t like wastin’ time. While I’m standing here waitin’, I could be doing something. A lot of work to be done on the farm.” “I’m surprised you’re going at all.” He could go off to New York with his friends if he wanted to. She’d stay right here and take care of the house and young’uns just like she did most days. She wasn’t jealous. Jeremiah could go have him some fun. The galoots he would be traveling with could show him a thing or two, she imagined. The sound of an engine alerted them to a car creeping up the dirt road. When the driver pulled up next to the house, Jeremiah and Wink loaded their things while she rocked on the swing. Then she watched the rear end of the car until it disappeared. They were gone. And she was alone. She gazed at the fields spread out across the landscape savoring the gentle breeze wafting gently across her face. She noticed the hay swaying in the field next to the tree line. A fence separated one pasture from the next, keeping the cows in the barnyard, preventing them from making their way to the house. Razz had left it open yesterday and, now, cow piles were scattered about the yard. Everything remained the same. Every day, the same. Her fingers were red and raw from yesterday. She’d heated water on the cook stove, then lugged the bucket to the washtub outside. After five trips, she had enough water to wash most of the boys’ clothes, and then she had to go heat more. She was just one woman with a el of young’uns and a mountain of

regret. By marrying a man she didn’t love, she’d done them both a disservice. She wanted to get out of this house and start a life of her own. Jeremiah had been so handsome in their courting days. Tall, with his hair slicked to the side, he wore a tie every time he had come to visit. He’d asked and she loved the idea of being married. Of having her own home. But she’d run away from a house full of siblings and now she found herself surrounded with more children. Her own children. In the middle of the night, unable to sleep, she fantasized about Harlan. Of having a life with him. A man who cared about her. Who loved her the way a man should love a woman. She’d even dreamed of a little house just for the two of them, somewhere far, far away. God forgive her, she still felt the thrill of his touch coursing through her. Still sensed the tremors he’d created just being near him. His sweet words, his voice, everything about him. No one inspired her, or seemed as inspired by her, as Harlan did. She’d tried to deny him. Deny the stirrings that sifted and swirled in her pores. She tried to hide from them, but now she realized that she didn’t want them to stop. Jeremiah did not evoke these feelings in her. He never had and probably never would. He was driven. With the farm—his homeplace. The land demanded all his attention; there was nothing left for her. She needed to get herself on an even footing. How could she do that? She’d fallen in love. She’d never been in love before. Love, she sniffed derisively. She didn’t know anything about love when she married Jeremiah. But she’d gone and fallen in love with Harlan. She never meant for that to happen. He’d made her aware of her own body, her needs as a woman. And now she couldn’t stop thinking about . . . certain things. And the anticipation of seeing him again, being with him again . . . She tried to lock away those feelings. Jeremiah. She could barely look at him without guilt. She went through the motions with her heart ripping in two. She didn’t love him. She loved another man.

Harlan left. She missed him. They may as well have been on opposite sides of the world. Maggie gripped the chain that held the swing, her fingers tightening until her nails dug into the palm of her hand. The sun’s rays breached the clouds, sending beams of light striking the ground. She stared as if looking through a glass prism. Yellow and gold arrows of light mixed in with some blue, graced the hills and mountains reaching the sky. The light created an arresting sight behind the mountain. She followed the green of the trees, their leaves waving in a soothing dance. Bright-colored flowers wafted in the garden, and blooms from the bushes along the fence in her yard. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Many sharp fragrances hit her at once. Her lids fluttered open, spotting the countless colors of blue, purple, red, and yellow. Dozens of blossoms filled her garden. The beauty of nature. Her home. Her thoughts ran rampant. She thought about her life, her marriage, everything that had happened in the last few years. The good, and the truly terrible. She felt bad about the lies, but she was tired. So tired. And what did life have to offer her if she stayed? More children? Another one almost every year. As soon as she weaned a baby off her breast milk, she got another one in her belly. She knew her neighbors disapproved of her behavior. Maggie studied the vast landscape and wondered if she would still be here come spring. She had six children to think of; no need to be feeling sorry for herself. She’d always loved the wide open spaces, but the responsibility that came with marriage was slowly choking her. The confinement of the house, suffocating. She was still young. She wanted to enjoy life. And she wanted to be with her lover.

***

Bea stepped down and then waited while Frosty jumped off the bus. Since Mama took Lucy with her, Bussy, Bea and Frosty were the only ones at school today. Together, they trekked up the dirt road leading home. “I don’t know why I had to go to school. Charles and Razz didn’t.” “Dad needed them to help work on the farm.” “I could help, too.” Bea thought of how she could answer him and not hurt his feelings. “Of course you can. But you’re still young and need to go to school. Charles and Razz are older.” “You mean they don’t never have to go back?” “Yes, they do. But since they’ve already gone to school more than you, they help Dad when he needs them.” Frosty kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt. “I wanna grow up so I don’t have to go to school.” “Just because you grow doesn’t mean you don’t go to school. Look at me. I’m the oldest. When the work is done, Charles and Razz will be back in school. Maybe tomorrow.” Bea glanced up to find the very topic of their conversation running across the lane and into the field. Now what were they up to? No good, she’d bet. “Hey,” Frosty called. “Where ya’ll going?” Charles and Razz kept running as if they hadn’t heard their brother. “Where they goin’?” he asked Bea. “I don’t know, but I plan to find out.” She cut across the meadow with Frosty hot on her heels. She jumped over rocks and stumps in a hurry to see what her brothers were up to. When she reached the fence line, there they sat. Each one sat on top of a fence post.

Charles tossed something shiny into the air and caught it, only to toss it again. Razz had something white, twisting it in his hands. “What have you got?” Charles jerked and looked at her guiltily. “Where’d ya’ll come from?” “We just got off the school bus,” Frosty answered. Evidently they hadn’t heard him. “That time already?” Razz glanced up, then back to the object in his hands. Frosty dropped his tablet on the ground. “What you got there, Charles?” “A lighter.” He tossed it in the air again. “Can I see?” “Where’d you get that lighter?” Bea asked. “Dad doesn’t smoke.” “Found it.” Bea turned to Razz, placing her hands on her hips. “And just what have you got?” He held up some white squares of paper. “Where did you get those?” “Never you mind where I got these.” Razz plucked the tops of a few strands of weeds and tore them into small pieces. He sprinkled them onto one of the white squares then rolled the paper. “Now what are you doing?” “Rolling a cigarette.” “Wow. Let me see.” Frosty climbed up on the rail next to Razz. He’d jump right into anything the bigger boys did. “Your pants are going to be on fire if Dad catches you.” Bea took a closer look. “That ain’t no cigarette. It’s grass.”

“It’s mustard weed,” Razz said. “Sides. Couldn’t find nothin’ else. Hound Dog said he smoked grass just like a cigarette, so me and Charles is gonna try this. He gave me some papers, too.” Hound Dog lived over the next hill in Seldom Seen. He was about the same age as Charles. Bea crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll bet he stole those papers from his pa.” Razz’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We didn’t have none. And ya gotta have papers to roll a cigarette.” From what Bea could see, he was making a mess of it. “Here.” Charles grabbed it. “You’re messing it up. You’re gonna tear it.” “Give it back.” Razz tried to take it back and Charles elbowed his arm away. “Look, you do it like this.” Charles stuck out his tongue to wet the seam where the paper folded. “What ya doin’ now?” Frosty looked up to his brothers and, at this moment, his keen eyes took in everything. He often tried to mimic them. The older boys thought they were so smart. “Ya have to do this to get the paper to stick together.” Charles rolled his lips and formed a drool of spit. “You gonna spit on it?” The horrified look on Frosty’s face almost made Bea laugh. Maybe he had some sense after all. “Naw, goof ball.” Charles glared at his little brother. “You lick it a little bit and it sticks.” “How do you know how to do it?” “I seen it done.” Charles seemed entirely too sure of himself. Bea wondered if he had done this before. Razz finally got the paper rolled around some brownish-green looking stuff, and then he twisted the paper on both ends. And sure enough, he ran his tongue

along the side, licking it. “You gonna smoke it or eat it?” Bea smirked. “Dumb girl,” Charles mumbled. Bea stiffened her arms by her sides. “Am not. And don’t be calling me names.” “You gotta do that so it don’t fall apart,” Charles explained in a huff. “You gonna smoke a wet cigarette? Looks to me like you’re smoking spit.” “Yuk.” Frosty hopped down from the fence. Guess he’d seen enough to not care for the idea. Bea agreed with him. It looked yucky to her, too. “It’s not even a real cigarette.” “Tis too,” Charles argued. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a girrrrl. Go on up to the house.” “Yeah, go on up to the house.” Razz echoed his brother entirely too much. She glared at them both. “Don’t tell me what to do, Charles Otis. I’m older than you.” “You ain’t no smarter than me,” he shot back. Bea spun on the ball of her shoe and strode forward calling over her shoulder, “You both are stupid.” “No, you’re stupid,” Charles called back. Her brother could be so mean. She’d show him. Turning, she shook her finger at Charles. “You two played hooky today.” “Dad kept us home.” “I bet he didn’t keep you home to smoke. I’m gonna tell.” Charles jumped off the fence faster than a leaping deer and stomped over to her. “No you ain’t.”

Bea wasn’t afraid of him. She crossed her arms and puffed out her chest. “Am too.” He took a threatening step closer. “Are not. Cause then we’ll tell Dad you were smoking, too.” Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “Dad wouldn’t believe you.” Would he? Charles smirked an evil grin. “You’d be taking a trip to the woodshed right along with us.” Their father didn’t hesitate taking any of them to the woodshed if they did something wrong. And Charles was just mean enough to say she’d been smoking. Bea didn’t relish a burning backside. “I hope you both get sick.” She whirled around to stomp off when Frosty’s words stopped her. “Can I try?” “Sure.” Razz held his self-made cigarette while Charles flicked the lighter to flame. The paper lit up and, immediately, Razz started coughing. He waved his hand in the air and held the thing toward Frosty. Before she could protest, Frosty put his mouth to one twisted end. The other end blazed red fire. He leaned back, staring at his brother. “Blow it out,” Razz said. “Huh?” “Blow out the smoke.” Frosty puffed his cheeks and blew. Nothing came out but air. No smoke. “Blow it out,” Razz said again. Frosty expanded his cheeks again and Charles pounded his back.

“You’re gonna choke, you dumb kid.” Still nothing. Razz hopped down from his perch looking scared. “You gotta blow out the smoke, Frosty. You can’t hold it in.” “I did. You saw me. I blowed.” “But, no smoke came out.” Razz gave a sharp glance to Charles. He returned Razz’s look with equal confusion. Bea couldn’t figure out the silent communication between them. “What’s the matter with you two?” Charles took the cigarette and held it to Frosty. “Do it again.” “No,” Bea said, stepping forward. “Shut up.” Frosty put the cigarette to his mouth and that’s when they figured it out— whatever it was. Razz and Charles whooped and grabbed their sides while laughing. Bea crossed her arm over her middle. “What’s so funny?” “He was blowing out.” Razz could barely talk for laughing so hard. “Isn’t that what you told him to do?” “Not while the cigarette was in his mouth.” Charles wiped his eyes. Seeing her expression, he explained. “Instead of inhaling when he took a puff, he was exhaling. Frosty didn’t draw any smoke in to blow out.” “I don’t know how you idiots can smoke grass anyway.” “What’s the difference? Tobacco grows in a field just like grass.” Bea waved her hands as if it made no difference to her.

Her brothers were stupid.

Chapter Thirteen

1939

Jeremiah stepped into the springhouse ready to wash the grime clinging to him from the barnyard. Things were looking up. Hogs were getting fatter every day; there’d be a right smart number for the slaughter. He’d counted the kettles down at the barn; they had plenty of wood for the fires. The young’uns had to stay in the house while he shot the hogs, but they would come down to help with the skinning. He heard the silence before he saw the pipe. No water. What in tarnation? In the last few months, for some reason, the water had clogged up several times. It just didn’t make sense. The spring rushed off the mountain at an abrupt speed. The line had been strategically placed in a deep pool. Unless there’d been a big storm, the water pipe would not move, even with the pressure from the gushing stream. Plenty of water with plenty of pressure, he only needed the pump to get it to the pipes in the house. He stomped to the back door with muck coating his hands and arms. The screen slammed behind him with a bang, startling Maggie. “You scared the devil out of me.” She stood at the sink with her hand over her heart. “Got any water in here?” The pipe at the kitchen sink was never turned off. Maggie kept a bucket under the spigot and another full one beside it with a dipper. They had fresh water all the time. “The water stopped running. Here’s a pan you can wash up in.” She snatched a pan, dipped some water from the drinking bucket, and set it on the stove.

“Why does this keep happening?” He dipped his hands in the cold water and grabbed a cake of soap. Maggie lifted the kettle and poured some hot water in the pan to warm it up. “I’ll go check. It was clogged up the other time.” “No. I’ll go,” he grumbled in frustration. “You have to wash up.” Maggie sat the kettle back on the stove and unwrapped the rag from its handle. “Look at the manure on you. You’re stinking up my house.” “If there ain’t no water running from the spigot in here, then you know there ain’t none out in the springhouse. Give me a towel.” “I’ve been up there before. I know where to go.” “Since I laid the pipe, so do I.” He dried his arms and slapped the towel back in her hand. “But, but you’re busy. You got other things to do.” “Right now, I’m headed to see why the water has stopped.” He stepped through the door and she followed. “Let me go. I fixed it the last time.” “I’ll fix it so it don’t happen again,” he nearly shouted. His stride lengthened as he climbed the hill. He strode through the meadow, stopping long enough to secure the gate at the edge of the woods. He took the path through the forest, all the while mumbling about how the clogged pipes didn’t make any sense. Birds chirped and fluttered among the trees. There’d been no storm. The pipe was under a couple of boulders large enough it would take a tractor to move them. He’d made sure of it. Usually, when he traipsed through the woods, he’d pick up a branch. It was a good idea to have a stick in case he came across a snake. But most days he just poked the ground in a cadence with his steps. It had become a habit that helped keep a steady pace. This time though, his anger had him covering a lot of ground

pretty fast. He reached the bend in the creek in no time. He stopped, resting his hands on his hips while he examined the landscape. Everything looked normal. White waves of water gushed over the rocks where the pipe had been placed. He fussed as he thought about his boots getting soaked. He should have brought his rubbers. He stepped into the steam. Freezing cold water lapped over the top of his boots. He balanced his weight on the river rocks, stepping carefully as he made his way to the pipe. The two boulders were in their places. He stooped down and . . . “How did all these leaves get in here?” He scooped out the sticks and leaves with his fingers. As he cleaned the debris, he noticed a tin container of some sort had been placed into the opening of the pipe. “Well, no wonder.” He removed the mess, cleared the screen, and in no time the water rushed furiously into the mouth of the pipe. He stood there for several moments deliberating on how the item had blocked the water. Obviously, he knew how. Someone had deliberately blocked the pipe. But, who? Some prankster having fun with him? Or some rascal acting like a devil? He had a lot of men working on the farm. He couldn’t imagine one of them pulling a stunt like this. Either way, he’d have to keep his eyes open. He shuffled out of the stream and looked down at his wet boots. His toes squished in discomfort. It would take all night and maybe longer to dry the things out. Tomorrow, he’d have to wear his rubbers. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he rested his hands on his hips once again and studied the woods around him. His gaze traveled over the brush, the rocks, the tall trees, following the fence line up the mountain. Then he turned his head and saw something that didn’t belong in the woods. A flash of shiny metal. Red. A truck. Parked in the clearing at the ridge. Humph. Why would anybody be coming in the back side? This time of the year, there was too much going on to allow hunting on his land. No one had come and asked.

He squinted, trying to see if anyone occupied the truck. Nope. He scanned the countryside looking for a man. Any man. This all seemed a mite suspicious. He took a step and was quickly reminded about his soggy footwear. He wasn’t too happy about that and now he had a truck parked on his land. Probably someone up to no good. This required more pondering. He started his long walk back to the house, thinking the truck looked suspiciously familiar.

***

Maggie twisted her apron with nervous fingers. “You find out what happened to the water?” Jeremiah hung his hat on a peg wondering if he should ignore her. His temper had cooled, somewhat, the closer he got to the house. But he was still mad. At her. At himself. At the world. “I found it.” “Well? What did you find?” His shoulders slumped with disdain. “What’s going on, Maggie?” “What do you mean?” “Was that a signal? You know who’s been putting leaves in to clog up that pipe?” “Whatever can you be talking about? I don’t know who done that.” “There was a screen fastened on the front of the pipe with this in it.” He held up the tin cup he’d found. “Couldn’t get there by itself.” “What kind of talk is that?” “There was a bunch of leaves in front of the screen.” His anger was back, as

strong as it had been at the creek. He shook the tin at her. “This is what was clogging up the water from getting to the house. You wanted to go. You were always the one who went to check on the water. How many times has this happened?” “Lower your voice. You want the children to hear you acting all crazy?” “Crazy you say? Who’s acting crazy, Maggie? What have you been up to?” “I think you’re losing your mind.” She spun around, putting her back to him. “I saw a truck up there. Coming in from the back side. Who’s coming in on our property from the back of the mountain?” His voice rose with his ire. “How should I know?” She pounded the batter on the counter. He wanted to pound something. “I think you know a lot more than you’re telling. Is it a signal? Do you go up there to meet someone?” “You and your crazy notions. I ain’t meeting no one.” “You sure seemed anxious when I left. You were afraid of what I’d find.” When she didn’t answer, he shouted, “Weren’t you?” She jumped. Then faced him. “Don’t you go yelling at me, Jeremiah Baldwin. I take care of your house for you. I cook your supper and take care of your young’uns.” “They’re your young’uns, too.” “That’s right. And I won’t have you talking crazy in front of them.” When she turned her back on him a second time, he thought he would blow his top. Blood pounded in his temples. Before he exploded, he’d better take another walk.

***

Maggie’s chest pounded so hard she thought her heart might jump right out. She tried to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. She’d experienced a moment of panic, thinking Jeremiah might strangle her. She’d never seen him so mad. This farm was his life, his legacy. He would never set her free. And she refused to feel sorry for herself. Jeremiah had left her no choice. At that moment, she made her decision. She was scared. But she knew what she was going to do. She wanted her freedom and she was taking it.

***

When the boys came home from school each day, they knew to get their chores done without being told. Dad spoke once and he didn’t like repeating himself. Charles and Razz had been carrying wood for the last hour and the side porch was stacked from the planked floor to just under the roof as high as they could reach. With no railing, anyone could step off the landing on any side. On one side, Bea sat shucking corn. She threw the dried-up cobs in a bucket. The next step would be to shell it into another bucket so the animals would have feed. “You can take that bucket and shell the corn,” she said out loud. “You ain’t the boss of me.” “Maybe not, Razz. But Dad said when you and Charles were done stacking wood, you had to shell corn.” “Looks to me you’re doing a fine job, Sis.” Charles said as he stepped up behind her. He crossed his arms acting like he wasn’t going to do a thing to help. “Maybe me and Razz got something better to do.” “You and Razz? All you do is fight.” She ripped the silk off another ear of corn.

“A lot of that going on around here,” he mumbled. “They were at it again last night.” Bea tried to ignore her brother, but she couldn’t ignore what he said. She’d heard the argument between Mom and Dad. Razz grabbed an empty bucket and plopped down beside her. “I heard ‘em, too. Woke me up.” Their parents’ voices had gotten pretty loud. They were quarreling almost as frequently as Charles and Razz. Most nights, after all the kids were in bed, Bea would hear them fussing. “I never went to sleep.” Charles sat down on the other side of Razz, picked up a dried ear of corn and started shucking. “Seems like all they ever do is fight.” That got her attention. She thought her siblings had been asleep. “Them arguing wakes you up?” “It did last night.” Razz shrugged his shoulders. “Some nights I haven’t gone to sleep yet.” Two squawking hens came pecking close to her brother. He kicked at them. “Go away. You’ll get your food. You can’t have the whole bucket.” The chickens ignored him and soon there were more. He kicked again. “Go on, now.” Charles got up and shooed them through the yard gate. “They’ll find another way over. We got a whole bucket of feed here.” Razz pointed to the corn and laughed. “I know I’d find a way to get to Mom’s pies if she locked us out of the kitchen.” “You’d find a way to get into any kind of trouble.” Razz glared at their brother and Bea thought ‘here we go again’. “Ya’ll stop that. We got corn to shell. Charles, get your wagon. You can take the shucks with you when you go down to the barn.”

“Hogs will eat good tonight.” “Speaking of food, what’s Mama fixing for supper?” Razz asked. “Squirrel,” Bea answered. “Again? We’ve had that two nights in a row.” “We had rabbit the night before.” “Why can’t we have some tenderloin?” “Pork does sound good.” Charles rolled the wagon in front of Bea and gathered up the shucks. “You’ll take what Mama puts on the table and like it.” Razz’s head slowly turned to her. “You sound an awful lot like Mom.” With the last of the corn shucked, Bea wiped her hands on the front of her dress. “I better go see where the other three are. Mom’s gonna need help with supper.” “Make some mashed potatoes. Lots of mashed potatoes.” Razz waved a corn cob at her. “And plenty of gravy. I smell homemade bread.” Charles liked dipping his bread in the gravy. He wouldn’t care if there was nothing else on the table as long as he had bread and gravy.

Chapter Fourteen

She’d be ridiculed. Could I look myself in the mirror if I do this? Conflicting emotions gave Maggie a pounding headache. She’d had six children in nine years. Having so many babies was wearing her down. She’d been miserable, trapped, but not any longer. The decision had not been easy. For heaven’s sake, she’d pondered on it for months. Once she made up her mind, the only thing left was to go. When she gathered all her children, she’d acted a coward and not told them of her plans. As far as they knew, they were visiting their grandparent’s house. She glanced over to Bea sitting in the front seat of the car with wide, wild eyes. Eyes that looked back at her in confusion. Of course the girl was confused. What Maggie intended bordered on insanity. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. Her girl made her proud. Maggie recalled the conversation before she loaded the children in the car and left the house. The two of them were sitting in the living room on the sofa. “My baby has grown up.” Maggie smoothed Bea’s hair back from her temple. The poor thing knew something was up. “And now you’re going to have to grow up even more.” “Mama you’re scaring me.” Bea twisted her skirt in her fingers. “I don’t mean to scare you,” Maggie soothed. “You’re a good girl. You’ve always been a big help to me.” She took Bea’s hands in her own. “I need you to be stronger now than you’ve ever been.” “I’m strong, Mama. I’m real strong.” She squirmed on the sofa. “What is it?” “You’re going to have to take care of your brother, Bussy.” “I do, Mama. I always do.” Her daughter was so eager to please. She looked

scared and anxious. She had good instincts. Maybe Bea thought if she agreed to whatever her mother said, she’d squash anything bad from happening. Poor baby. If only it would. Maggie had lived a lifetime on ifs. Time to take charge of her life. She could rely on Bea. The girl had perseverance. “I know, Bea, honey. But now you’ll have to do it all the time. I’m leaving. And I can’t take you with me.” When her lip trembled, Maggie hurried on. “I want to. Very much. But I can’t take all of you.” “All of us? Are you . . . What do you mean? Where are you going? When are you coming home?” The terror in her daughter’s eyes stabbed Maggie’s heart. But she couldn’t back down. It had taken her months to get the courage to put her plan into motion. “I can’t stay here anymore and I won’t be coming home.” “Why not?” Bea jerked her hands from Maggie’s grip. “I have to . . . go away.” She could barely get the words out. How could she explain to her daughter when she couldn’t justify her actions to herself? She couldn’t rationalize what drove her. What made her behave so shamelessly. “Where? You’re leaving me behind?” Maggie knew she couldn’t drag this out any longer. It was too painful for both of them. She stood, smoothing her skirt down the sides of her legs. “I’m taking your sister and brothers to your grandparents. You’re fourteen now. You’ll be fine. You can take care of yourself and Bussy.” “Mama, what’s going on? Why can’t I go with you?” “No more questions. Now, come help collect your sister and brothers.” Bea had helped pack what few meager things her siblings had. The white farmhouse belonging to Maggie’s sister came into view, jerking her back to the present. She pulled the car next to the fence and pulled the brake.

“Mama, are you gonna leave me here?” Maggie glanced down to Lucy’s little face. This would break her heart worst of all. She’d kept her emotions in check when she dropped off Charles at Grandma Becky’s and Frosty at Grandma Naomi’s. Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat and concentrated on the knowledge that Nellie would take care of Lucy like the girl was her own. “You like coming to Aunt Nellie’s.” “But you took Frosty to Grandma’s house.” “You’re Aunt Nellie’s favorite.” She heard a snort from Razz in the back seat. All her boys were typical boys, but Razz had been a little more on the wild side. Nellie had been the best choice for him. Her sister would love him with a firm hand. Yes, Nellie would take good care of him and Lucy both. “Mama. I get to stay with Ant Nellie?” “You get to stay with her a long time.” “And Razz, too?” “And Razz, too.” Lucy swung around to look at her sister. “What about Bea?” “I’ll still be at home. I’m not going anywhere.” Maggie waited to see how Lucy would react to that, but she gave a nod as if accepting the idea. The two girls hugged. Bea would grow into a fine young woman. She’d be a mother herself someday. Maggie climbed out of her car and grasped Lucy’s hand. As she crossed the grass to the farmhouse, a twinge of remorse pierced her chest. She was a mother dropping off her children like they were no more than a carton of eggs.

***

Three hours later, Maggie arrived in Stanley. Her fingers ached from her grip on the steering wheel while driving across that mountain. Somehow she’d kept the car going forward, maneuvering the turns and curves without really seeing them. Without being aware of anything but keeping her eyes on the road in front of her. Flashes of the town came into view making her aware she’d arrived. She found a place to park, then just sat staring out of the windshield. She had no idea how long she sat there before she forced herself to move. She walked into the Beverley Hotel with a buzz ringing in her ears. She guessed the hotel furnishings were nice enough, but she paid no heed. After checking in, she grabbed her carpet bag and climbed the stairs to her room. A lone bed stood next to one wall with a chest of drawers on the other. An upholstered chair and a round table sat in front of the window. She dropped her satchel on the floor and slumped down upon the bed. Her mind whirled like a tornado, thoughts and indecision flying around like debris in a strong wind. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, and debated on what to do. First she would call Harlan to let him know she’d left Jeremiah and she’d checked into a hotel here in Stanley. She had no idea how long she would be here. She hadn’t really made any plans other than ing up with him. But if she planned to stay, she’d need a job. She was a strong woman; she could do most anything. She had to take care of herself, for she’d never go back to that farm—ever. The room had suddenly grown chilly. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that would calm the battle going on inside. It had been more difficult than she’d expected. Waves of guilt washed over her. What had she done?

***

Was this really happening? Jeremiah turned the question over and over in his mind. Not so long ago, he’d thought himself the luckiest man alive. A home, a wife, six young’uns. And the farm. Five hundred acres with lots of timber and lush fields. His ancestors lay at the top of the ridge with headstones marking their graves. Men who believed nothing more important than a hard day’s work where a man provided for his family. He took a deep breath and released it, willing the ache to go away with the released air. It didn’t work. His chest still hurt. He sat for what seemed like hours, wondering how this situation had come to . Most days for him existed from sun up to sunset. He’d worked hard and fulfilled his obligation to his family. Maggie’s obligation had been raising their children. And now they were scattered up and down the holler. She’d born them and then dropped them off like they were nothing. In all his born days, he never imagined such a thing happening. He leaned back and gazed up at the star-studded sky. How many nights had he and Papa sat on this very porch? How many times had they talked about the land and his plans for the future? What would Papa say now? The land remained. The land stayed faithful. He needed to focus on the land, his farm. He had cattle, pigs, chickens, guineas, turkeys and whatever wild animals roamed the woods. Every night at sunset, deer left the forest to scavenge the meadows. When he ended his day early, he got enough time to see them; he savored the sight. Since he’d planted buckwheat, more deer came to the fields. They seemed to take a liking to his buckwheat. To the right of the porch lay fields for making hay. To the left lay the creek, fresh spring water running continuously off the mountain. In view from the front of the house stood the red barn made of sturdy timber. Beyond the barn was more pasture land, and on the lower section, another one hundred fifty acres of grazing grass and more woods. The lane from the house ran about two miles down to the main road.

And it all belongs to me. Without a wife. He’d been too busy with his own life. Too busy working the farm to pay attention to what was going on in his home. Running a farm demanded his time and required back-breaking work. When hard work is all you’ve ever known, you don’t think about much else. He’d never smoked. Never had time, with so much work to do. If he was a smoking man, he thought he just might light up a cigar right this minute. If he continued with these thoughts, he would travel down a path he could not afford to trek. He didn’t believe in feeling sorry for himself. Couldn’t abide people that did. He had six children with no mother to raise them. No point in second guessing himself and no time to dwell on why or how this came to be. When a man got knocked down, he just needed to get right back up. Still, the incident remained a bit hard to swallow. If he planned to live to the age of one hundred, there were sure to be more trials. He only hoped none would be as damaging as this one. He smacked his hands on his thighs and stood. With a deep breath and a heavy heart, he took one last glance at the dark night, then shuffled back into the house and quietly closed the front door.

Chapter Fifteen

These days, Jeremiah’s best friend was John. If there was a woman to be found, John would sniff her out. Jeremiah used to think his friend’s shenanigans were awful. But lately, his loneliness had him rethinking his opinion. And anyone who hung around John was bound to find himself amongst a lot of females. Jeremiah needed help with six children. John offered to bring his wife, Rosie, to lend a hand, and she could cook. Not as good as Maggie, but at least the men and the young’uns would have something to put in their bellies. So the couple moved in with him. John might be right. Why shouldn’t Jeremiah seek a woman? A man, alone, he found he had an itch that needed to be scratched. He never had a problem with talking to women. Heck, that part’s easy. A compliment here and there, a little flirting, and he could have a female cozying up next to him. Just might be fun sowing his oats again. It was stock market day. He and John had three cows bawling in the back of his truck while he waited in a line of traffic headed to the stockyard. The smell of manure filled the air from trucks backed up clear down the street and around the corner. Lucky for him, he’d gotten here early. By noon, he expected the line of stock owners would be more than a mile long. Once he and John unloaded the cows and put them in their stall, they headed over to the auction block. Beef was going for a fair price today. John stood beside him resting his arms against the top slat of one of the stalls. “Hey, Jeremiah. I know a place where we can grab a bite to eat.” “Yeah? Where’s that?” “Come on. I’ll show ya.” “Got to be within walking distance. I ain’t moving the truck.”

“It’s not too far.” John slapped him on the back and spit a wad of juice on the ground. Nasty habit. Jeremiah was glad he never smoked, or dipped, or any of that stuff. Cows bellowed, sheep bleated, all waiting a turn at the auction block. He and John walked past several holding pens until they came to a dirt road, then crossed over to the other side. They stopped in front of a house that had a sign above the door that read ‘Sadie’s Diner’. “Got some real good cooks in here.” John opened the door and motioned for Jeremiah to go in first. He blinked. Going from the bright sun outside to the contrasting dimness inside, he couldn’t see right off. The room buzzed with activity. The cool interior felt good after the swift walk. Heck. The stroll had been no more than the steps it took him from his house to his barn. He followed John to a corner table. Must be a frequent visitor, because everyone in the place seemed to know him. Especially both waitresses. By the big smiles plastered on their faces, and the brush of John’s hand over a hip, they knew each other pretty well, he was guessing. “I see someone I know.” John strode across the room with a confident swagger, headed straight for the brunette flaunting a come-hither smile. Jeremiah shook his head. John had a wife at home. With all his easy charm, flirting came as natural as a fish swimming in water. When John returned to the table, he brought the woman with him. The devil himself could not have had a bigger smile. Mischief lurked in John’s eyes. “This here is my friend Jeremiah. This is Claire.” The woman fluttered her eyelashes at him. He quickly stood and checked the knot in his tie. Even though he had on his work clothes, he had on a tie. Now he was right glad he wore it.

***

Dad never discussed it with her. He never spoke of Mama leaving, his wife deserting him and her children. He never said much of anything at all. Bea’s brothers and sister were still at Grandma’s and Aunt Nellie’s. Why hadn’t he brought them back home? Was he leaving, too? Bea didn’t think so. Not with him exploring women. He’d brought a couple of them home. They stayed the weekend and, come Sunday evening, they left. Every day she waited for the surprise that would happen next. The incident that would knock her feet out from under her again. She liked John and Rosie. Rosie could cook. Bea assumed the other responsibilities of her mother without a word ing between her and her father. She went to school, did her chores, and took care of Bussy. Several months ed before Dad went after Charles and Razz. Bea guessed he needed them to help with chores, but Frosty and Lucy stayed at Grandma’s and Aunt Nellie’s. Being the oldest, Bea could boss her brothers around. She gathered eggs and Rosie showed her how to sell them at the store. Bea loved being in charge. With the egg money, she decided what it was used for. She could get pencils, tablets, and maybe have five cents left over for candy. Crops were planted, vegetables were sown, and Dad continued to bring home women. Sometimes a woman he’d brought before, sometimes a different one. One time he brought home a woman with a limp. “Where’d Dad get Peg-Leg?” Charles tossed a clump of dirt in the air and then hit it with a stick. Razz hobbled around in the grass. “Look at me.” He held his arms out, reminding Bea of a scarecrow. He made one leg stiff and limped around making fun. “I got a peg leg.” Charles picked up another clump. “Maybe it’s a wood leg.” Razz stopped to stare at his brother. “You think she has a wood leg?”

“Sure.” He smacked the dirt, watching as it broke apart with pieces flying out across the field. “Wonder if she takes it off at night.” Both boys hooted and Bea had to smile. “Did you see her eye?” Charles went to swung at another clump of dirt and suddenly halted the stick in mid-swing. “What about her eye?” “I think she has a glass eye.” Razz picked up a rock and threw it at a stump. Charles glanced at his brother with a frown. “You think so?” Razz nodded. “Yeah. And she takes it out at night, too.” Bea did laugh out loud that time. The things her brothers did to entertain themselves. She guessed Dad didn’t like the woman with the limp, because she never came back. That was too bad, because the kids liked her. She was nice.

***

Dad planned a trip to Illinois. Bea had been so excited because she’d never been anywhere. Grandma and Aunt Sarah went, too. John and Rosie stayed on the farm and took care of Bussy. Charles went back to Grandma Becky’s, and Razz went back to Aunt Nellie’s while she and Dad were gone. The ride in the car took a long time. She stared out the window the whole trip. When they arrived in Illinois, Bea met a cousin her age, Barbara. They went everywhere together. Just hop on a bicycle and go. Today they were headed to the store. No special reason. Just going. Barbara cut through a field, so Bea followed. The bumping over the rough ground jarred her teeth so much, she almost wished she hadn’t.

“Barbara, wait.” Bea stopped and got off to push. “I hit a large hole and dang near bit my tongue.” Barbara laughed. “Come on. We’ll push our bikes over to the road.” Once they reached the road, Bea hopped back on the bike. Having a friend her age was fun. “Look, Bea. No hands.” She turned her head to find Barbara horsing around, riding her bike while holding her hands in the air. It wobbled and she quickly grabbed the handlebars. After she steadied her bicycle, she rolled out her bottom lip and blew her bangs on her forehead in relief. Bea laughed. “The next thing you’re gonna say, is look Bea, no teeth if ya wreck.” Barbara laughed with her. “Let’s race.” Before Bea could agree, Barbara took off. Bea peddled fast. She soon caught up. Then she ed Barbara. She glanced back and the wind blew her hair in her face where she couldn’t see. She jerked her head, flinging the hair out of her eyes, and the bike wobbled. Next thing she knew, she landed on the ground. She blinked her eyes and saw the bike lying on its side with one wheel spinning. Barbara dropped her bike and came rushing to her side. “Bea. Are you all right?” She looked down at her throbbing knee. Blood oozed through the dirt. “Ow. I hurt my knee.” “Ewww. Blood.” Barbara looked like she was going to throw up. Bea scrunched up her nose. “Ain’t you never seen blood before?” “Well, yeah. But that looks awful.” “That’s what I get for showing off.” Bea stared at her knee. “I skinned it pretty good.”

“It looks like it hurts real bad.” “Naw. But it’s full of dirt and I don’t have anything to put on it. Is the bicycle okay?” “Bea. You’re bleeding and you’re worried about the bike?” “Well, we gotta ride back. I don’t want to walk all that way.” Bea pulled herself up while Barbara lifted the bike. “The bike is fine,” she said. “I won.” Bea squinted her eyes. “What do you mean you won?” “You wrecked.” “I was in front.” At least she was until she wrecked. Bea fisted her hands on her hips. “Ewww.” Barbara pointed to Bea’s knee. When she glanced down, blood was streaming down her leg. “Good grief. Guess we better get on back to the house.” Bea climbed on the bicycle, and Barbara scrambled onto hers. “All right. I guess you won. You still wrecked.” Yeah, but that didn’t matter. She still had fun. When they got back to the house, Aunt Pauline tended to her knee. “I usually see these kinds of scrapes on the boys. You sure you ain’t been running around with them?” “Mom, Bea and I were riding our bicycles to the store.” “I was going pretty fast when I took a spill.” “You wrecked,” Barbara corrected her. “The wheels were still spinning after she hit the ground.”

Aunt Pauline put some mercurochrome on the cut, turning her knee orange. “Ouch.” It stung. “I know that burns, Honey. But you’ll be fine.” “Thanks, Aunt Pauline.” “Before you two girls run off, come to the kitchen with me.” Bea looked at Barbara, wondering if she knew what her mom wanted. Barbara shrugged her shoulders. Then she slipped her arm through Bea’s and they walked together. It sure felt good to have a friend. When they entered the kitchen, Aunt Pauline led them to the dining room and stopped in front of a glass front, wooden cabinet. Right away, she noticed the claw-footed bottom. “My dad has a sofa and two matching chairs with claw feet like those,” Bea told her aunt. “His Papa, he called his grandfather Papa, he gave them to him. They have upholstered cushions with flower embroidery and studs around the edges of the padded cushions.” “I . I thought of those when I saw this cabinet and I just had to have it. It reminds me of my mom and dad. Do you them, Bea?” “I was little, but I some.” Her aunt opened the cabinet filled with pretty glass pieces. “Several of these belonged to my grandmother and a few came from Ralph’s mom.” Ralph was her husband. The first time Bea saw him, she thought he was the biggest man she’d ever seen. He pulled on his suspenders all the time when he talked. She wondered if they were tight and he needed to stretch them over his big belly. “Look at that.” Bea pointed to a set of glasses with a gold rim. Aunt Pauline took out one of the glasses. “Here. You can hold it.” At first, Bea feared to touch it. Then she carefully took the delicate glass. She

studied the design in the shape of a flower, only it looked like an outline or a shadow. Almost like the design had been painted, then dipped in sugar. Staring at the tiny crystals around the side, she gently rubbed the pad of her finger over it. “It even feels like sugar.” Her aunt laughed. “It does, doesn’t it? That’s gold around the rim. I’m not sure what the coating is around the side. I suppose glass crystals.” “It’s beautiful. I’m afraid it will rub off.” “It won’t. It’s been on there a long time.” She took the glass from Bea and replaced it back inside. Then she reached in the back bringing out a pretty, clear glass with a long stem. The design on the side looked like a knife had cut into the glass. “This is vintage etched stemware.” She handed one to Bea, then took five others exactly like it and set them on the table. “Wow. It’s dainty.” “These belonged to your great grandmother. I want you to have them.” Bea’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. “Really?” “There’s a bunch in there I’m gonna get,” Barbara said. “In due time,” Aunt Pauline told her daughter. Then she looked back to Bea. “Do you have anything like this?” “Gosh, no.” “I’ll get some paper and we can wrap these up. Barbara, get me a box.” “I want to show Dad.” Taking care with the dainty glass, she carried the one in her hand and went looking for her father. She found him in the living room with Grandma. “Dad, look what Aunt Pauline gave me.” She held it up for him to see. “That’s a right pretty glass.”

“I got a whole set. There’s five more.” “What you doing with a wine glass? You don’t need no wine glass.” Grandma didn’t look any too happy. “Bea should have something to put in her hope chest.” Pauline tipped her chin in the air while she explained to Grandma. “She’s too young. You shouldn’t be giving her that.” Bea stared at the fragile glass in her hand. She wanted it. She really did. “I don’t have a hope chest.” “What? Every girl should have a hope chest.” Aunt Pauline gripped Bea’s shoulders. “I’ll bet your dad just hasn’t made you one yet.” Bea glanced at her dad. He didn’t say anything. She looked back to her aunt. “My mom showed me how to embroidery. I made an apron and two pillow cases.” “Your mother—” Grandma started to speak, but Dad hushed her up. “I found a box, Mom.” Barbara called as she came into the room waving a cardboard box. “Come on, Bea,” her aunt coaxed. “Let’s pack up your wine glass set.” “I told ya she don’t need no wine glasses.” Ignoring Grandma, Aunt Pauline nudged Bea in front of her. Grandma was still muttering when they left the room.

Chapter Sixteen

1940

Back at the farm, life returned to normal. If normal meant Mom was gone, so were her siblings, and Dad was courtin’ women. Having John and Rosie at the house lessened Bea’s worry. John liked to joke and make fun. Even with two fingers missing from his right hand, he helped cut wood and plant crops. Rosie cooked. Things weren’t so bad. Bea chose her best dress and slipped it on, smoothing the soft cloth over her hips and down to her knees. She pulled at the lace Rosie had sewn around the neck. Even if Bea couldn’t have a new dress, the lace made this one look different. Satisfied with the additional trimmings, she brushed her hair and slipped in a bobby pin, pulling her hair up on one side above her ear. The mirror was in mom’s room, so she ran down the steps. In her haste, she stumbled—not the first time. Immediately, she slammed into the wall and caught herself, thankful the enclosed staircase helped to break her fall. After righting herself, she carefully descended the rest of the stairs. Rosie and John were sitting on the sofa in the living room. When they saw her they stood. John gave a whistle embarrassing the socks off her. Rosie poked him with her elbow. “Ready?” she asked. Bea fanned her heated cheeks. She was too excited to let a whistle scare her. “I’m ready. Is there going to be dancing?” “Why sure thing, gal.” “Now, Bea.” Rosie took a step forward. “I don’t know how much dancing you’ll get to do. But, you should have fun.”

Bea had heard about dancing and drinking and all kinds of things from John that her dad would not approve of. Why, part of the reason they were letting her go was she had to promise not to tell her dad. He was awfully strict. She was as excited as a pig sucking front tit. Didn’t matter to her if she got to dance. At least she’d get to watch. Rosie grabbed a sweater and John ushered them out the door. By the time they headed down the road, the sun had set and the moon rode high in the sky. Up ahead, Bea could see the glow of lights radiating in a dark sky. “Is that it?” “That’s it,” John answered. Bea scooted to the edge of her seat, gripped the back of the driver’s seat, and peered through the windshield. “That’s a lot of cars.” “Bound to be crowded inside.” “Bea,” Rosie drew her attention. “Make sure you see us the whole time. Don’t go out of my sight.” “Okay.” Bea concentrated on the people going inside. She barely paid attention to Rosie. Loud music drifted to the cars outside. She could hear a fiddle and a banjo and someone blaring at the top of their lungs. People shouting, hands clapping, it sounded like people having a lot of fun. She wanted to run up the steps and see inside. Two men blocked the doorway. “Hey fellas.” The two men turned around with mason jars in their hands. One man held a jar of water. Bea’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. She’d heard there usually was a lot of cider and hard liquor at these dances. A man couldn’t get drunk on water. “Hey there, John. Good to see you, Rosie.” The first man greeted them, but the second man stared at her. “And who is this?” “This is Jeremiah’s girl. So watch your step.” Bea wondered what that meant. Did he think maybe they would step on her toes? Excitement flared in her chest.

That meant she might get to dance. Strains of a guitar floated to her ears. She peeked in through the doorway. The room was filled with people. One man stumbled into a woman and she smacked him on the head. “Is he drunk?” Bea asked. “Naw,” John answered. “He’s just stupid. Come on, Bea.” She followed John as he stepped through the crowd. He shook hands with some men, laughed at their jokes, and finally the three stood next to a table with food. Cakes, pies, cookies, ice cream—her brothers would love to be here. Even at church picnics, she’d never seen so much food. She grabbed a small plate and loaded some cake and cookies; she’d be back for some pie later. Rosie handed her a cup of punch and they followed John to a bench along one wall. While she chewed her food, she tapped her foot along with the lively tune of the banjo. She sat on the edge of her seat watching the couples hoot and stomp their feet to the music. Women swished their skirts and showed off their legs. This was the best time she’d ever had.

***

A man stumbled over his own feet right in front of Bea as she turned from the cider barrel. Rosie said to stay within sight of her, but Bea wanted a cup of cider. This man almost made her spill it on her dress. “Wup.” He laughed as he wobbled and held out a jar. “Can’t spill any of this good stuff. Best ever made.” Bea wondered what the man meant. The liquid sloshed around in his jar, but it looked like water to her. Another man caught his elbow. “Whatcha got there?”

“Well now, Wallace. This here is the best moonshine this side of the mountain. And in West Virginia, too.” The second man grabbed the one who’d stumbled and pulled him to the shadow behind her. Moonshine. No wonder it looked like water. She’d heard John mention something about some men making moonshine out of corn. It was liquor. Bea’s curiosity got the better of her. She eased to the side of the barrel, listening to their conversation. “Sure. Got a whole case out in the back of my truck.” “Larry.” Bea glanced over her shoulder at the new voice. A tall man with a beard ed them. “Ahh, just the man we were talking about.” The one with the jar leaned one arm on the wall. Probably to help him stand up. He must have been drunk. “You were talking about me?” The new man’s voice sounded gruff. “Just talkin’ some business.” “Business?” “Yeah. Wallace here wants some shine.” “You might want to keep your voice down a bit there, Larry. Last I heard, running moonshine was illegal.” Bea slapped her hand over her mouth and almost did spill her cup. If these men were doing something illegal, maybe she shouldn’t be listening. “Bea. What are you doing over here?” Her eyes flew wide as she looked up into John’s face. He’d scared the bejesus

out of her. Her heart pounded and it took her a moment to calm down enough to speak. “N . . .nothin’.” “John.” She jerked to the sound of the familiar gruff voice. The tall man with the beard. “Well, howdy Lewis.” “Got a private conversation going on here.” John glanced at the other men, then back to Lewis. “Uh, didn’t see you there. Just keeping up with Jeremiah’s daughter.” The man looked at Bea. “Jeremiah’s daughter, huh?” “Yep. Bea, why don’t you go on back over to Rosie?” “Sure.” She hurried to Rosie, wondering why the tall man made her nervous. Rosie seemed anxious. She led Bea to a bench and clasped her hands. “What happened?” “Nothing. I was standing there and John found me.” “He didn’t say anything?” “He said howdy to the man. He called him Lewis.” “That’s all?” “Why? Who is he?” Rosie glanced over Bea’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.” “Then why are you and John acting so funny? Is it because of the moonshine?” “Keep your voice down,” John said as he stepped beside them.

“John, are you all right?” Rosie acted worried. She made Bea tense. “Of course, I’m all right. Just talking to Lewis.” “What about?” “Nothin’ you girls need to know, but evidently are already talking about. A lot of folks here buy the stuff, but not everyone knows Lewis supplies it. We don’t discuss these things out in the open, and you, Miss Bea, shouldn’t even know about it.” “Why not?” John glowered at her. He had never looked at her mean like he did now. “Why don’t you go over and get some cake?” Bea knew when someone intended to get rid of her. What was all the fuss anyway? She wanted to ask. Instead, she stood. “All right.” She slipped into the crowd and watched as John sat beside Rosie. The two of them squabbled so she snuck back around to listen. “Government agents searched the woods trying to find Lewis’ still. A Revenuer man came close last week, and Lewis shot him.” Wow. Someone got shot. Bea cocked her head thinking it would help her hear better. “According to Lewis, he thinks Larry spilled his guts and that’s how the Revenuers found his camp. If they find out he shot one, they’ll be breathing down his neck soon. “He told you this?” John nodded. “It’s dangerous for you to get mixed up with him.” “He knows I’ll hold my tongue. But, I’m worried about Larry, the imbecile. Fool’s drunk. He runs shine for Lewis. When he gets to drinking, he gets

careless with his tongue. “If Lewis shot a Revenuer man, he’s capable of anything. I’m worried.” “I ain’t givin’ no secrets away. Nothing to worry about. That Revenuer man was on Lewis’ property. Come on. This is a party.” Bea didn’t care to hear anymore. She didn’t understand everything anyway. Men getting drunk and shooting people. Dad wouldn’t like that. And he wouldn’t like her snooping, either. She wandered over to the food table lined with cakes and pies. Chocolate made her feel better. She spotted a big chocolate cake.

Bea tapped her feet to the music as she scrutinized everything going on around her. She was having the time of her life watching couples kick up their heels and spin their partners while Mr. Armstrong called out square dance moves. She’s didn’t know Mr. Heavener could play the fiddle. His elbow jerked while he tottered on his booted feet creating a robust melody. “Having fun, Bea?” John handed Bea a paper cup with lemonade, since Rosie took away her cider. “Wow. There’s a lot of people here.” She drank without taking her gaze from the stage. “Come on, John. I want to dance.” Rosie pulled his arm and the two ed the other dancers. Suddenly, she heard an angry shout. Then another. The band stopped playing and the couples stopped dancing. Everyone stared at the two shouting men. People formed a circle around the commotion. Bea heard a grunt, and someone yelled “fight”! Men and women scampered back, forming a line of bodies right in front of her. She couldn’t see. She stuck her head around shoulders and tried wiggling between bodies, but she couldn’t get a look. The crowd scooted farther back, pushing her into the wall. She climbed onto a bench determined to see what had everyone so captivated. She could hear the fight. She wanted to see it, too.

Someone slammed into her and the bench flipped. Her lemonade went flying and so did she. The breath left her lungs as she hit the floor. “Ow.” When she got her breath back, she rubbed her head. It hurt. “Oh no. Bea. Are you all right?” Rosie crouched down beside her. “Oh, hell.” John shoved his hair out of his face. “Is she okay?” “What happened?” Bea asked. “Dear Lord, she was knocked out.” Rosie glanced up to her husband. “She’s lost her memory.” “What? Jeremiah is going to kill me.” “Wait.” Bea flailed her arms. No one was listening to her. “I haven’t forgotten anything. The bench upset. I fell off.” “You got knocked off.” John shuffled his feet from side to side like he was having a panic attack. “Your dad has no idea you’re even here.” “Bea. Are you okay?” Rosie asked with worry in her eyes. “Yeah, I think so. I just want to know what happened.” “You mean the fight?” “Yeah.” John helped Bea from the floor. “Come on. I’m taking you home.” “But I want to stay.” “No. We’re leaving.” John hurried them outside. Rosie helped her into his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yes,” she answered with a pout. She still didn’t get to see the fight.

“You can’t tell your dad,” John burst out. “He’ll be mad we brought you.” John stared into her eyes. “But he’ll be furious if he finds out you got hurt.” “I’m not hurt.” “Just don’t tell your dad.” John had nothing to worry about there. She wasn’t telling anybody anything. He started up the car and took them home.

Chapter Seventeen

1941

Dad brought another woman home. When the same person showed up every week for a month, Bea began to wonder if her dad had taken a liking to this one. The fact that she came on Monday and left on Friday sure seemed strange. Dad had brought other women to the farm on weekends. This one left on the weekends. Of course, Dad drove the cattle truck to market every Friday. And the woman always rode with him, but he came home alone. Then on Monday, he’d go pick her up. Bea noticed the tension after a few weeks. Rosie and the new woman, Flossy, didn’t get along. One minute they’d be baking in the kitchen and the next, Flossy would be running to Dad. Guess they would work it out. The woman could cook and the food tasted yummy. On this particular night, after tucking Bussy in bed, Bea sat on the porch swing and stared at the stars. Voices drifted to her from the side of the house. Bea stopped the swing and tiptoed to the shadows so she could hear. She peeked around the corner and saw John and Rosie. Guess she shouldn’t have been listening around the corner, but how else was she going to find out what was going on? Anyway, Rosie said something about a red door. “Why did you acquaint Jeremiah with that no female?” Bea peeked around the corner. John and Rosie were clearly visible under the moon’s glow. “Now, Darlin’. Don’t go getting—” “Don’t you Darlin’ me. She works at the Red Door.”

“How’d you know that?” “Then she does?” Rosie slapped her hands on her hips and stomped her foot on the thick grass. “How could you do that?” “He met her at the stockyard. How did I know he was gonna bring her here?” “She can’t be around his kids. She’s . . . well, you know.” “Yes, I know.” John looked a mite sheepish. “I don’t want to know how you know,” Rosie said. “I’m not sure I want to know how you know, either.” Rosie thrust her shoulders back and stuck her nose in the air just like a prancing rooster in the chicken house. “Women talk.” “You don’t have to remind me of that.” Bea thought Rosie was going to smack her husband. “She takes money. I hear there’s a red light above the door, too. They turn it on when the place is open for customers.” “Well, you hear right. And yes, she works there. Shows up on payday, right before the men get their pay.” John and Rosie moved down the path toward the garden and Bea couldn’t hear any more. If Flossy had a job, that explained why she went with Dad every weekend. But Rosie had made it sound like a bad thing.

***

To add to Bea’s puzzlement, a few weeks later Dad brought the rest of her

siblings home. Finally, her sister and brothers were under one roof. The younger ones had been gone nearly two years. Dad and John had a falling out, over money, she thought. John must have been stealing from her father, but Bea wondered if Flossy had anything to do with him and Rosie leaving. Dad sold the dump truck and just kept the cattle truck, which he continued to take to market every Friday, Flossy sitting right up front in that cab with him. Something was going on, because Dad had come in from the fields early today. He and Flossy were sitting in the living room waiting on the kids to get home from school. Lucy ran in the house while Skippy slipped through the door beside her. “Jeremiah, git that dog out of the hoouusse,” Flossy said in a whiny voice. Even Lucy didn’t talk like that when she wanted something. “Razz. Get Skippy and put him outside. Then come back in here.” Uh oh. Bea looked at her brother asking with her eyes, what have you done now? He shrugged, then took Skippy outside. Charles looked worried, too. “Rest of you young’uns, come on in here.” Dad didn’t sound mad, but Bea had an uneasy feeling. With wide eyes, all her siblings lined up in front of Dad, their hands clasped in front of them. “Have a seat.” She gave another quick glance to her brother. Then all six of them piled on the sofa. “Children, there’s something I have to tell you.”

The familiar ache pressed Bea’s chest. Pending doom. The same ball of fear she’d felt when her mother left. Was Dad leaving? Was it something worse? Her fear of the unknown nearly choked her. “Flossy is moving in with us. She will be taking care of you.” You could have heard a needle fall from her embroidery hoop. None of her siblings said a word. She looked to Flossy and back to her dad. Well . . . Flossy had been here every week already. Bea supposed she hadn’t actually moved in. So what did this mean? Were they getting married? “What do you mean she’s going to take care of us?” Bea finally asked. “We’re doing fine.” “With your mother gone, we need a woman around the place.” Bea wanted to ask what happened to Rosie, but her brother blurted out before she could. “She ain’t my mother.” Charles was the moody one of the bunch. He grumbled a lot and he didn’t hold back just now. Bea held her breath waiting for the explosion. But Dad surprised her. “No she isn’t. But she’s the one who’s here now.” That much was true. And Dad had brought her. “You gonna replace Mama with her?” Charles glared at Dad. A long silence followed before he dropped his gaze. Bea released her breath. “You disapprove?” Dad’s face crinkled with irritation. Bea rushed to answer. “I’m sure he’s only surprised, Dad. We all are.” “She ain’t my mama.” Oh great. Now Razz was copying Charles. “Mind yourself.” Dad didn’t get mad too often, but when he spoke, all his kids knew to listen. And mind. Then Lucy cried. “I want my Mama. I want Ant Nellie.”

Oh boy. She was pretty sure this was not what Dad had in mind when he called his children together.

***

Flossy moved in. And a pattern began. Sure enough, she continued her weekend trips to Stanley. After another month, Bea wished she wouldn’t come back at all. Flossy didn’t like children. Bea couldn’t imagine why the woman wanted to move to a farm with six kids. Wonderful smells of apple and cherry and blueberry pie would still be drifting through the air when the kids came home from school, making them hungrier than they already were. They would run inside, see all this stuff, and then Flossy wouldn’t allow them to eat it. How could Dad not see the way she treated his kids? Oh, she could be sweet when she wanted to and she made up good excuses. This pie is for Annabell at the church, or I promised this to so and so. But Dad always got a piece of pie. And when she put them in the pie safe, she bolted the door—to keep out the critters. The boys took to calling her Floozy. If Dad heard them, there’d be a trip to the woodshed. Friday would hail bright and hardy, knowing at the end of the school day, Floozy would be gone. Then Monday rolled around bringing gloom and doom because the witch came back. On a few rare occasions, Floozy didn’t come back with Dad. Razz snuck the pies out of the pie safe and the young’uns got to eat pie. Bea never saw any more egg money. Floozy took care of that now, which meant no candy for the children. She sure liked fancy blouses and Bea couldn’t help but notice the woman had a new purple one.

Rosie stopped by one Friday afternoon before Dad got back from the stockyard. She said she missed everyone. When Bea told her she didn’t like Floozy, Rosie laughed at the nickname. Then she told Bea that Floozy had three babies of her own she gave away. Her first had been a baby girl she left at the hospital. The second one she sent to her sister to raise. And the third one, she put in a home. For the next few days, Bea and Floozy circled each other like buzzards over a dead carcass. Being a protective sister, Bea shielded her siblings from Floozy’s nasty manner. And later, when Floozy didn’t get her way, they were subject to one of her “fits”. The first time scared them all, but after a while, Bea saw Floozy’s recurrences would happen at convenient times, and surmised the woman would have spells of delirium to get her way. When she got mad, her face turned red and she would slobber and then fall over like she ed out. Dad was a sucker. He fell for it every time. One June afternoon, the circus came to town. Word spread quickly. Flyers hung on the walls at school and each child received one from their teacher. Students were bouncing in their seats with excitement, squealing about the elephant featured in the middle of the yellow paper. The rush of exhilaration followed them to the school bus. “They got a elephant!” Lucy jumped in her seat, then swiveled to Bea. “They got a elephant.” “Yes, Lucy. Everyone knows there’s an elephant in the circus.” Ritchie, who was the same age as Lucy, plopped into the seat behind them. “They got an elephant. Wait till I tell my dad.” He waved one of the yellow flyers. “I’m going to the circus.” “I’m going too.” Lucy’s eyes danced and her elation appeared to be contagious. “Aren’t we Bea?” “I’m sure Dad will take us.” Bussy came running down the aisle between the bus seats. “Look, Bea. A elephant. Can we go?”

Razz slid in the seat across from her. “Sure thing, Bussy. We’re all going. Dad promised.” “Yippee!” Great. Now she had two jumping beans in the seat with her. “I hope Dad leaves you know who at home.” That was a lot nicer than some of the things Charles called Floozy. “Why would she want to come? She don’t like nothing fun,” Razz said. Restless kids talked nonstop about going to the circus all the way home. As soon as the bus stopped, Lucy and Bussy jumped off and ran up the lane. Bea just let them go. She figured they’d tire and stop to walk, but they were still running as they rounded the curve and disappeared out of sight. Floozy’s weekend excursions had stopped at some point, Bea didn’t exactly when. On this particular Friday, when Dad’s truck pulled up to the yard, Lucy and Bussy raced out the door to meet him. He hadn’t forgotten about the circus and assured them they were going. Even though they were too excited to eat, the children gathered at the table for dinner. “Are we going, Dad? Please?” Bussy could barely sit still on his chair. “They got a elephant,” Lucy cried. “Well, now. An elephant you say? Then we must go.” “Yippee!” Screams of delight sounded around the table. “Jeremiah, I don’t feel good.” Floozy’s whiny voice emerged low, but sounded as piercing and as deafening as a clap of thunder. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t think I can go to the circus.” Bea knew the statement could be good and bad. Wonderful news for her siblings, for they’d have a better time without the old bat. A big grin crossed Razz’s face

as he poked Charles with his elbow. But an uneasy feeling settled in Bea’s belly. Dad put down his fork. “Is it your stomach? Are you going to be sick?” “Ewww. Don’t throw up at the table.” “Lucy, hush.” Dad turned his attention back to Flossy. “Maybe you need to rest.” “Yes, I need to lie down.” Bea sat quietly and watched her father fall under Floozy’s spell. The uneasy feeling crept up her spine. “Dad. Do we still get to go to the circus?” Razz asked. “Yes, Razz. I’ll just help Floozy go lay down.” “Jeremiah!” Floozy screamed, scaring the daylights out of them all. Dad jumped up and ran around the table. “Flossy. What is it?” “I can’t see.” She went stiff and then started jerking in her chair. With wide eyes, all the kids watched the scene unfold before them. No. No. No. Some spit oozed from the corner of Floozy’s mouth. Dad grabbed her arms, but she continued to shake. Every second seemed like forever until she finally stopped. Then Dad helped her to their bedroom. “We better get to go to the circus.” Razz clenched his teeth. When he got mad, his temper made him lash out. Right now, he looked madder than a bull. “Bea, we’re going to see the elephant, aren’t we?” Lucy’s lip trembled. She didn’t know how to answer Lucy. That uneasy feeling turned to dread. Looking into her sister’s eyes, Bea choked on her reply. “Yes we’re going,” Charles answered. “Dad said so.” He looked as angry as

Razz. No one at the table looked happy. They all had faced disappointment at one time or another since Floozy had come into their lives and even more when she had one of her fits. “He promised.” Lucy’s lip trembled. Bea said the first thing she could think of for encouragement, rather than allow her siblings to dwell on their fear of disillusionment. “We better finish eating so we’ll be ready.” “Okay.” Poor Lucy. Her pitiful voice wounded Bea. Only moments ago the room burst with excitement and joy. The anticipation of going to the circus surged in each child. A happy family, full of life and exuberance. In a mere second, Floozy had managed to change their merriment to fear. Surely Dad would keep his promise? He couldn’t let his children down. They had never seen an elephant. Lucy wanted to see one so bad, and Bea had to it, she did, too. She glanced around the table. No longer hungry, Frosty and Bussy picked at their food. Charles stared at his plate and Razz leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. The expression on his face alarmed her. Who knew what he might do? Bea rose from the table. “I’ll put the scraps in the bucket. You two can feed the hogs and finish the chores.” She nodded to Charles and Razz. Anything to clear the tension and give them something to do. “Frosty, take Lucy and Bussy into the sitting room. You can work on lessons or —” “But what about the circus?” Lucy asked. “I want to see the elephant.” Bussy jumped up from his chair. “We need to have everything done and be ready when Dad comes back in,” she

explained. “Now scoot.” Charles stepped up close to her. “Something smells fishy.” “She’s gonna do something, I just know it. Did you see the spit hanging on her lip?” Razz shuddered, over-demonstrating a reproduction of Floozy’s convulsion, if that’s what she had. But Bea seriously doubted she’d had a real seizure. Anything that didn’t suit Floozy’s plans, she had one of her spells. By the time she finished the dishes, her brothers were back. She’d already placated the smaller ones with a promise of a treat at the circus if they would go play. She hung the dish rag on a peg by the fire just as she heard her father’s voice. She quickly followed her brothers to the living room. Lucy started to cry. Bea jerked her gaze from Lucy to her dad. “I’m sorry. There will be no circus.” “Why not?” yelled Charles. “You promised.” Lucy’s lip trembled and tears ran down her cheeks. “Yeah, Dad. You promised.” Charles stood a head shorter than Dad, but at this moment he stood pretty darn tall. “Flossy is sick. I can’t take you.” “We can go without her!” Razz shouted. “Mind, all of you.” Dad’s voice turned harsh. “Flossy is sick. I’m taking her to her sister.” Bea’s head spun. Her sister lived hours away. “When?” Silence filled the room as all eyes turned to her. She realized she’d shouted, too. “We’re leaving as soon as she is packed.”

An assortment of complaints started again. “Why? Why is she going to her sister’s? And why now?” Dad seemed at a loss as his shoulders slumped. “She had a spell. You saw it. She needs her sister to take care of her.” Bah. If Floozy was sick, she belonged in bed. If her sister needed to take care of her, the woman didn’t need to be leaving the house and driving in a car. This had to be another one of her ploys to get what she wanted. Whatever Floozy wanted, Floozy got. Bea steamed. If she’d been a train, smoke would come out her ears. Now she had a headache, she was so mad. The slam of the screen door jerked her from her quiet rage. Charles and Razz were gone. Good thing, because when Floozy came out that door, Razz would probably have hurt her. The way Bea felt right now, she might even help. “Dad, it’s late for a trip tonight. You won’t get there before midnight.” “We’ll stay a night or two. Probably come back Sunday.” Sunday? “But, Dad. The circus will be gone.” “She needs her sister. I’ve said all I’m going to say.” No circus for the kids. No elephant.

Chapter Eighteen

1942

The sun blazed hot on this summer afternoon. Standing in the middle of the garden, Bea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She sneezed. She loved the floral scent of so many flowers, even if she may have gotten a little too much pollen in her nose. She rolled her shoulders, feeling her muscles relax while enjoying the beauty around her. Flowers in vibrant shades more colorful than a rainbow were in full bloom. Mom had loved tending her flower garden. She’d take the dried seeds from the year before and replant them in the spring. Although some of the plants would grow again on their own each year. Bea wondered if her mother had felt the calm and enjoyed the beauty of all these blossoms. With the children out of school, they had a lot of time on their hands. But on the farm, there was always something to do. For now, she enjoyed some leisure time walking through the flowers. Lucy and Bussy played in the dirt. Most days the boys got into mischief, but then that’s what boys do. “Bea!” She held a hand above her brow to block out the sun and saw Frosty running as fast as his legs could go. Now what? When he got to her side, he doubled over placing his hands on his knees. “I gots . . . I gots . . .” “Catch your breath. Is something wrong?” He shook his head, reminding her of Skippy when he got wet and shook off the water.

“Breathe, Frosty.” After a few more gasps, he spoke. “I need . . . a blanket.” “A blanket?” “Yeah,” he gasped. “We’re gonna catch apples.” “Catch apples?” “Me, Charles and Razz are gonna catch apples.” “What in the world are you talking about.” “I gotta get a blanket. Charles sent me and told me to hurry up.” Charles. Well, she’d see what her brothers were up to. She rushed upstairs to her room, careful to stay out of Floozy’s way. Bea didn’t need to be explaining why she needed a blanket when she didn’t know herself. When she got back outside, she held it out of Frosty’s reach. “I’m coming with you.” “Okay.” He took off like a shot. She had to run to keep up with him. They crossed the meadow and headed for the apple trees. When she saw Charles and Razz tossing apples up in the air and catching them, she figured they had pulled a prank on Frosty to get him out of their hair. “What’d ya bring her for?” Charles let his apple drop to the ground. “She can be here if she wants to,” Razz told him. Razz always came to her defense, whether she needed it or not. “What are you boys up to?” “We’re collecting apples.” “Frosty said you were catching apples.”

Both boys laughed. “We are.” Razz climbed up in the tree, while Charles took the blanket. “We’re gonna put this here blanket on the ground and shake the tree. When the apples fall, the blanket will catch them.” He spread the blanket on the ground, then scampered up the tree behind Razz. Frosty grabbed the lowest limb and up he went. All three looked like monkeys. Acted like them, too. Bea braced her hands on her hips and stood there staring at them. “I know you’re up to something. Why do you need all these apples?” “You’re full of questions.” Charles climbed out onto a branch that didn’t look big enough to hold him. “We’re gonna make cider.” Razz perched on a limb, swinging his legs. “Get out of the way!” Charles motioned with his arm, then started rocking the limb he was sitting on. Several apples fell to the ground. Razz and Frosty mimicked his movements and apples fell like a spring rain. They bounced and thudded and pounded the ground. “Whose gonna cut up all these apples?” “Again with the questions.” “You can help us if you want.” Razz glared at his brother. Charles shrugged and dropped to the ground. “That was fun.” Frosty climbed down behind him. The three gathered the ends of the blanket. Bea laughed at the comical sight as they struggled to drag the apples. She wasn’t sure how they knew what to do or if it would even work, but their enthusiasm was infectious, and she found herself helping. For a few days, they cut, peeled and smushed apples, all in secret. Dad had two buildings to the side of the barn for tools and such. One he used to house his hay maker. With the machine in the field, it was the perfect place to hide their stash. Frosty separated the twigs and leaves, while Charles and Bea did the peeling.

Razz found a barrel for the juice. Every few days, the boys would check their barrel and report their progress to her. After a few weeks, she went to the shed to see for herself. She found Charles and Razz with a strand of straw in their mouths trying to suck the cider out of the barrel.

***

Dad was really strict. Maybe Mom leaving the way she did had something to do with his stern attitude, maybe not. But he wouldn’t let Bea talk to boys. The church had scheduled a lawn party for today. Pretty much every family in the county had attended. And one certain someone had caught her eye. Nolan Simmons. He’d looked at her when they were at the food table. Dad noticed and tuned his harsh glare on Nolan. So she’d dipped her head and concentrated on the food on her plate. Later in the evening the music started; she saw Nolan standing on the other side of the cake walk. He smiled at her and she smiled back. As usual, Floozy complained about something, so Dad took her over to some church friends sampling food. Nolan made his move. “Hello, Bea.” “Hello, Nolan.” “You want to cake walk?” Her heart pounded. The cake walk was for couples. “Sure,” she answered with excitement. He stepped back, then she fell into step beside him. They followed the other couples around the church. “I saw you after Sunday School this morning.”

“You did?” “Your dad watches you pretty close.” “Yes, he does.” The sun lounged low in the sky causing the shadows of the trees to lengthen. The light grew dimmer as they neared the back of the church. Nolan reached for her hand. Tingles swept up her arm and made her giddy. “I think you’re nice, Bea.” “Thank you, Nolan.” He held her hand and they walked in silence. When the music stopped, neither of them moved. He stood close to her, looking down into her eyes. All she could do was stare. Then one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. Nolan let go of her hand. A woman came over and told them to go in the church to get their cake. She was still smiling when they stepped inside. A table had been placed in one corner covered with a white tablecloth. A woman stood behind the table with a knife in her hand. “We’ve come to collect our cake.” Nolan spoke to the woman slicing the cakes. “Well now, you and Bea step right on up here.” “We’re going home.” Dad’s voice came from over Bea’s shoulder. When she turned, she saw his angry eyes. Before she could say a word, Dad grabbed her elbow, marched her to the truck, and took her home.

***

Another hot day for working in the hay field. Bea, Lucy and Bussy traipsed up the lane after another day of school. Since Frosty was older now, he got to stay home with Charles and Razz. By the time school was over, several bales of hay

had been brought to the barn. When she rounded the corner of the barn, Bea saw two men lift large bails and put them on the wide ramp gliding up to the hay loft. Charles and Razz stood at the top, grabbing them and stacking them in a row. “Hi, Sis.” Razz called to her. “Where’s Frosty?” “He’s in the hay field with Dad.” “You get all this done today?” Henry spoke up. “Your dad don’t let no grass grow under our feet.” “That’s for sure,” Charles mumbled. Watching her brothers, she realized how much they’d grown. Charles was fourteen, almost two years older than Razz, but Razz was bigger. He picked up those bales of hay like they weighed nothing. Charles used his shoulder to swipe at the sweat on his face. “How about you getting us some cool water?” “I can do that. Come on Lucy. You can help me pull the wagon.” “Look at me.” Bussy jumped from the hay wagon to the hay mow. You could tell he was a Baldwin. He should have been a monkey. Or a bee, the way he buzzed around like one. When she got to the house, Floozy had the door to the bedroom closed. Bea released a sigh of relief. She dropped her school book on the table and went to the kitchen. She and Lucy gathered some jugs and filled them with cold spring water running from the pipe. Most times it was colder than any drink they had in the icebox. She and Lucy tugged the wagon to the barn. The men were grateful and refilled their cups a second time. While Charles and Razz climbed down from the hayloft, Bussy continued jumping back and forth, from the mow to the hay

wagon. A blood curdling scream rent the air. Chills ran down Bea’s spine. Charles and Razz ran to their brother. He’d missed and landed on the barn floor. “Oh, no. Keep Lucy back.” Wink thrust out his arm with the palm of his hand facing her. “Oww. Oww. It hurts.” “You done done it now, Bussy,” Charles said. “What? Tell me.” Bea stepped closer trying to see around the wagon. She knew Bussy was hurt. He never cried like that. “His leg’s broke,” Wink answered her. “Bone’s clear through the skin. Popped out above his knee.” Her stomach turned and it was all she could do not to throw up. She pulled herself together and scolded Razz. They didn’t need to scare Bussy anymore. “Hush up, Razz.” “Well it is. He can see it.” Razz replied with his arm pointing at the bone sticking through the skin. Bea peeked around the wagon again. She put her hand over her mouth. “I wanna see.” Lucy put her foot on a spoke and started to climb. Bea jerked her back down. “No.” Bussy continued to cry. “One of you boys go get your dad.” “I can run fast.” Razz took off, showing just how fast he could run. “Don’t run in front of no tractor. Make sure he can see you,” Henry called after

Razz. Oh dear Lord. They didn’t need another accident. Charles climbed up on the back of the wagon and plopped on a hay bale. “Hey, buddy. It’s just a broke leg. You’ll be all right.” “Henry, bring the car around.” Wink gazed down at Bussy. “This boy’s going to the hospital.”

Chapter Nineteen

1943

Darn the rain. Normally Bea paid no mind to the lengthy stretch of road from the bus stop to the farm, but it seemed twice as long in the drizzling rain. Thank goodness, not enough for their shoes to sink into the mud, but her dress was wet. Lucy and Bussy didn’t seem to mind. They ran ahead to see the new puppies, leaving her to walk by herself. The last few years had been rough, but she’d finally attained the twelfth grade. She had begun to wonder if she would make it—with all the goings-on at the farm. Her life as a young woman had been more than a challenge—her mom left, Dad brought home women, and then Satan moved in making everyone’s life miserable. The rain stopped, the clouds shifted causing Bea to look up at the sky. “Been nice if you’d a stopped sooner.” She trudged up the muddy lane. With her gaze on the ground, it took a while to notice a rider coming from the house. The man swayed lopsided and then righted himself. The horse trod on, and she recognized a neighbor from over the next hill, wobbling as if he would fall off any moment. As he got closer, she realized he was drunk. She stepped off the path and headed around the barn to avoid him. When Bea got to the house, she changed into dry clothes and hung her dress on a line she stretched across the kitchen. A drop of water ran down the side of her face from her wet hair. She wiped it off with her hand. She walked through the living room and stopped at Dad’s bedroom door. Floozy slouched on the bed, mumbling and slurring her words. The woman was drunk. Drunk. High as a kite. Bea gritted her teeth in anger. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Whaaat?” Floozy whined from the bed. “Are you drunk, too?” “What‘re you doin’ in here?” Floozy rolled out of bed. “Git. You ain’t got no business in here.” “Neither does Mr. Siron.” Bea turned and marched into the kitchen. She grabbed the dipper and scooped water from the bucket. Maybe a cold drink would cool her temper. The hair on her neck tingled when she realized Floozy had followed her. Her anger boiled. “I’m telling my dad.” “You ain’t telling him nothing.” Bea whirled around with the dipper still in her hand. “You can’t stop me. I’m telling him you had a man in here.” “He won’t believe you.” The tone of Floozy’s voice sounded calm and her tone confident, but the sneer on her face made Bea grit her teeth. Maybe he wouldn’t. He always took Floozy’s word over his own kids’. Bea’s heart hurt. She decided to forget the water and go outside. She needed fresh air. She tossed the dipper into the bucket before she threw it at the crazy woman, then made it to the door before Floozy grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” Bea jerked her arm loose. “None of your business. And don’t touch me.” “I will if’n I want to.” Bea saw Floozy’s arms coming toward her, then she saw red. She grabbed the woman by the hair and slammed her head into the door jamb. Floozy screamed. Bea’s bruised and battered soul could take no more. She jerked her wet dress from the string and ran upstairs. She pulled her little suitcase, the one her mother had given her, from underneath the bed and tossed it on the quilt. A drop of

moisture slipped from her eye and fell on her cheek. She refused to acknowledge she cried. Instead, she blamed the rain and her dripping hair. She threw her soggy dress into her little suitcase and snapped the latches closed. When she clambered back down the stairway, Floozy was squawking on the phone like the chickens in the yard, on a party line where the whole county could hear and gossip about their argument. “Brassy said to tell you to shut up down there,” Floozy yelled at her. Brassy. A busybody who didn’t know the story and had no business telling her what to do. Bea didn’t care anymore. “You tell Brassy Ass to kiss my ass.” She shoved the screen door open with a bang and stomped across the side porch. She placed one foot in front of the other, marching with anger and frustration down the dirt-caked road. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her hand tightened on the wooden handle of her little square box. Everything she owned existed in that latched case: a rag doll she’d had for as long as she could and her only dress other than the one she had on. With four brothers and one sister, she guessed she was fortunate to have that. With every step her determination grew. When she rushed from the house, she had no destination in mind. Only the need to get out. To flee from the raving madwoman. The maniac who’d invaded her home and stole all the warmth and love from it. She rounded the curve knowing the house was no longer in view, but she would not turn around. She would not look back. Looking back might somehow ensnare her or some force might capture her, preventing escape. She stared straight ahead, her decision steadfast, her steps more sure. Never! She would never go back there again. Her chin quivered and she swiped at the tears on her cheek. A twinge shot through the bottom of her foot from a large rock poking her well-worn shoe. Maybe she should not stomp so hard. Still, her legs stretched out their full length while covering up ground.

Damn hateful woman. Buzzard. She’d heard plenty of cuss words from her brothers and she repeated several in her mind. But nothing took away the sting. Nothing helped relieve her of her fury. She’d had enough. Enough of the crazy woman who infested bitterness in what was once their happy home. Enough of fighting and trying to keep her brothers and sister together. Even her brothers longed for the day they could get away from the farm. To be more precise, away from the evil woman who’d taken up residence there. Each one, like a horse chomping at his bit, eager to be rid of the nasty thing. The day of their freedom couldn’t come soon enough. If only Dad had not brought the old bat to their house. So what if she could cook. She wouldn’t let the kids have her apple pies or her cherry tarts. The woman was crazed. And Bea refused to put up with her detestable actions any more. A truck engine roared in the distance. She spotted the gate up ahead, barring the entrance to their lane from the highway. When the cattle truck came into view, a lump formed in her throat. Her brothers. She quickened her pace and slipped through the gate before they reached the turnoff. Grasping the handle on her little case tighter, she stuck her nose in the air and focused on the road before her. Truck tires screeched and a cloud of dust formed where the truck spun around, and then pulled up beside her. “Hey, Sis.” Charles yelled from the truck. “Where ya going?” Razz hopped down from the cab. “Ya’ll have a fallin’ out?” What made Frosty smile, she had no idea. He lived in the same house as the rest of them. Guess he just had an easy manner about him the others lacked. She kept walking. Charles eased the truck alongside her. “Get in the truck.” “No.”

“What happened this time?” “I hate her.” “We hate her, too,” Frosty shouted from the cab. “Come on, Sis.” Charles tried again. “Get in the truck.” “No.” To prove she meant no, she faced straight ahead as she stomped down on the gravel. “What’d she do this time?” Razz kept pace beside her. “Leave me alone.” “Dammit.” Charles liked to cuss. The truck rolled along keeping up with her. “You can’t be out here on the road. Get in the truck.” “I’m not going back there,” she shouted. “You can’t leave.” Razz sounded desperate. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll—” “No, Razz. You’d only get in trouble.” “I don’t care.” “Get in the damn truck!” Couldn’t Charles think of anything else to say? “No!” She was too mad to stop. Too mad to get in the truck. “Where ya goin’?” Frosty asked. She had no idea. She slapped another tear from her cheek. No sense in trying to hide her tears. Her brothers knew she’d been crying. A face suddenly flashed into her mind. Her Sunday school teacher. “Mrs. Jennings.” A car pulled up behind the truck and honked its horn. Charles waved them around, since half of him stuck out in the road. “Come on, Sis. If that’s where you want to go, I’ll take you.”

She kept marching. Razz hiked beside her, while Charles trailed behind them. He could have driven on, but he wouldn’t leave his stubborn sister. Well, she wasn’t the only one. They were all stubborn, thank God. If not, they probably would not have survived this long.

***

Bea raised her hand to knock on the screen door. Most of her anger had dissipated, but now doubt came crashing in. Mrs. Jennings was the sweetest woman Bea had ever known. Surely she would help. She could smell the heavenly scent of the baking bread out here on the porch. Within a minute the inside door opened and Mrs. Jennings’ worried face peered through the screen. Bea gulped, then her eyes stung, and again the tears flowed. Her shoulders shook in gut wrenching sobs. “Bea, Honey. What in the world?” The screen door flew wide. When Mrs. Jennings opened her arms, Bea rushed into them, landing against a large warm chest. The older woman cuddled her, then smoothed Bea’s hair. “My goodness. Whatever it is, you’re safe. Now come on inside.” As she turned, Mrs. Jennings saw the trio watching from the parked truck. “Is that your brothers down there? Did they do something, Honey?” Bea shook her head. At least her brothers cared. Enough to see she made it to Mrs. Jennings. The engine cranked and the truck turned around in the middle of the road. They were headed back to the farm. The home she’d just left. “Now, now. Don’t cry like it’s the end of the world. Everything is going to be fine. You come on inside” Mrs. Jennings put her arm around Bea’s shoulders and led her through the doorway. Bea never let go of the iron grip she had on her suitcase. “All right now, Honey. Sit down and tell me all about it,” she coaxed with a gentle voice.

Bea couldn’t sit down. She was angry, hurt, and all her feelings came rushing forth. “I left, Mrs. Jennings. I left. And I ain’t got no place to go.” “Aww, Honey. Hush now.” She handed Bea a handkerchief. “Dry up those tears.” “You’ve been more a mom to me than that horrible Floozy Dad brought home.” “Sweet girl. You know that’s not her name.” “You’re the one who treats me nice. I didn’t know where else to go.” “Well, now. You’ve come to the right place. Don’t be worrying about that. But, I tell you what—” “I ain’t going back, Mrs. Jennings. I ain’t,” Bea blubbered. “I’m not sending you anywhere,” Mrs. Jennings quickly assured her. “I think a nice warm bath and a cup of hot tea will fix you right up. Come on, now.” She turned Bea around and led her to a nice room with a big bed. Bea’s shoulders trembled and her chest jerked, probably from crying so hard. Her eye’s widened in awe at the pretty room. A big bed with a coverlet so white Bea was afraid to touch it. A cherry-wood clothes closet hugged one wall and a rocking chair sat right in front of a window. “Is this your room?” Bea finally asked. “This is our spare room. It was my daughter’s room before she married and moved away. It will suit you just fine.” “Really?” Bea ran her fingers over the quilt. So soft. She could imagine curling up with the velvety smoothness against her cheek. “Yes. How about you put your suitcase right here.” Mrs. Jennings pointed to the stool at the side of the window. Bea set her case down and turned to face the kindest lady in the world. Her eyes started to fill again. Mrs. Jennings seemed to know Bea needed a hug. Her arms felt like a safe haven. She smoothed the hair from Bea’s cheeks and gave her a

kiss on the forehead. She closed the door softly as she left the room. Bea sat on the bed for long moments without moving. Her mind in turmoil, she’d rather not think. A chill racked her body and she thought a bath sounded like a good idea. Mrs. Jennings had a big tub. After her bath, Bea felt a lot better. When Mrs. Jennings saw the contents of her suitcase, Bea thought the woman was gonna cry. She gave Bea some warm clothes that had probably belonged to her daughter. Bea dressed, then went to the kitchen where she filled her belly with the delicious baked bread. The events of the day had drained her. Warm and with a full belly, she was feeling drowsy. She told Mrs. Jennings goodnight and slipped into the nice, cozy bed. She wished her mother was here.

Chapter Twenty

Life was good at Mrs. Jennings’, but Bea couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Her siblings were still at the farm. She kicked her foot propelling the porch swing in motion. Even though she felt bad for them, she had no intention of going back. Mrs. Jennings called Mom and she came when she heard what happened. The two women talked for a long time and Mom said Bea could stay. They worked out some kind of arrangement, whatever that meant. Bea would stay here for now and at the end of the school year, Mom would come back and get her. That was two days ago. She hadn’t seen Dad yet. Wonder what he thought when he got home. Floozy would not have told him the truth, but she had to tell him something. Her brothers didn’t know anything except they had a falling out. “Bea? Would you like a glass of tea?” “Coming.” The difference between the two women was like night and day. She’d never known a more kind or caring person than Mrs. Jennings. “Can I help you?” Bea asked as she stepped in the kitchen. “No, dear. I just made this. Would you like some ice?” “Yes. Thank you.” She collected her books and sat at the round table. The sound of a truck engine drew next to the house. “Hmmm. Bea, you stay here and work on your lessons.” Mrs. Jennings went to answer the front door. Bea heard the screen door open and wondered who had come to visit, then froze when she recognized her father’s voice. Her knees started to shake. Her heart pounded so hard she felt the thumping in her head. She did not want to go home. Mrs. Jennings walked into the kitchen. “Your father is here to see you. Don’t worry, Bea. You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m right here.”

Bea snuggled against her plump teacher, drawing strength from the woman she’d come to love. She’d counted them, five days. Five days in Mrs. Jennings’ home, and every day she’d dreaded this moment. The moment she knew her father might show up and snatch her away. Mrs. Jennings rubbed a hand over Bea’s hair. Her mother used to do that. “Come along, now. All you have to do is listen while he talks. Don’t be afraid. I’ll be with you.” What did that mean? Was Mrs. Jennings going to take up for her? Protect her from her father? She didn’t really think Dad would give her a thrashing in front of her teacher. Maybe he would only talk. Gathering every ounce of courage she had, Bea lifted her shoulders and prepared to face her father. She padded along behind the caring woman. With every step her fear drifted and her courage grew—until she turned the corner and saw who was with him. Floozy. Anger replaced her fear. He’d brought that hateful woman with him. Bea glanced over and met Mrs. Jennings eyes. Seeing the smile meant to encourage, some of the fury oozed out of Bea’s limbs. She had poured her heart out to the woman and Mrs. Jennings promised to help. However, her kind and gentle nature couldn’t stand up to the monster living in Dad’s house. Bea directed her anger at both her father and the hussy sitting beside him. Her father had taught her manners, to show respect to her elders. Out of respect for Mrs. Jennings, she would not create an embarrassing scene in the woman’s home. “Bea, we’ve come to take you home.” Surprised at her father’s calm voice, she just stood there. Then Mrs. Jennings surprised her even more. “Jeremiah, would you like to talk with Bea for a few moments?” Oh no. She needed Mrs. Jennings with her. “What I’d like is for you to send her home.”

Bea knew it was too good to last. His voice had risen, but her father was a courteous man. When dealing with others he was chivalrous, considerate, and well known for his straightforward speaking. He marched his children to church every Sunday, so he knew the Sunday school teacher well. “Now, Jeremiah. I can’t do that. I didn’t ask her to come here and I’m not about to ask her to leave.” Mrs. Jennings stared at Floozy for a matter of endless seconds, then returned her attention to Bea’s dad. “You know I’m not a woman to gossip. I’m a God fearing woman and I don’t judge. There’s carryings-on up at that house. You know they can’t get along.” Dad seemed to flinch at her words. Hateful Floozy whipped her head around like she’d been insulted. Well if the shoe fits, live in it. “Why don’t you let the girl stay? This is her last year in school. She could finish out this year and graduate.” Her father seemed to be considering the idea. If steam could come from one’s ears, smoke should be rolling out of Floozy. She looked madder than a snorting bull. Bea wanted to laugh, but she was too scared to breathe. “Bea is no trouble at all. I have the room. I think this would be best for her.” Now she really wanted to cry. Please, Daddy. He gave a sharp nod and stood. “If you are obliging . . .” His voice trailed off. “Jeremiah!” Floozy spoke sharply. “I think Mrs. Jennings might be right.” Then Dad looked at Bea. “Daughter? Is this what you want?” She had to swallow before she found her voice. “Yes, Dad. I want to stay here.” “Very well.” He clutched his hat in his fingers, twisting and rolling the brim. His eyes questioning. He looked like he wanted to say more, but the words never came. He turned back to Mrs. Jennings. “I’m much obliged.” Floozy grabbed his arm. He lifted her hand to the crook of his elbow without even looking at her and, together, they walked out of the house. Only when Bea

heard the crack of the screen door, did she let out her breath. Thank you, God. She couldn’t believe it. Dad was letting her stay. Floozy didn’t want her around, so why had she seemed so angry? “Feel better now?” Bea glanced up to see a warm smile. Then she ran, slamming into Mrs. Jennings. Tears rolled down Bea’s cheeks before she realized she was crying. These were happy tears. God had sent her an angel. And she held Bea tight in her loving arms. Thank God, her Sunday school teacher had taken her in. She only wished there was room for her brothers and sister. Perhaps they’d been better off scattered along the countryside. At least when her mother divided up her children, she’d left them with good families.

***

Bea had never considered herself a coward, but she knew going back to the farm meant she’d have to face Floozy, again. And she didn’t want to do that. Not because she was afraid of the woman, no Bea was more afraid she’d attack the crazy female. Well, no, not that either. No matter how much she might want to, she knew it wouldn’t solve anything. No, her real fear came from rejection. Thinking her father didn’t want her. He’d chosen that hateful creature over his own children. Dad showed up at Mrs. Jennings’ again, only this time he wanted Bea to watch her siblings while he took Floozy to her sister’s for Christmas. What had happened to her family? He would not be spending Christmas with his children? Right behind that deliberation came a happier thought, she’d be spending Christmas with her brothers and sister. At least the battle-axe would be gone. The young’uns would have the big house to themselves. Bea would make the

best of it. And she’d make sure the younger ones enjoyed their Christmas. The cattle truck jolted to a stop. Bea grabbed her suitcase from the floor board. When she left, it held her one precious dress. Now she had two, and a pair of breeches. Mrs. Jennings said if she was going to run around with the boys on the farm, she needed her a pair of pants. And they were store bought, too. Bea dragged her steps as she neared the porch. Mrs. Jennings said she’d be up tomorrow after Dad and Floozy left, to bring some gifts for her siblings. If the good Lord had provided an angel, she wondered where He’d been the other times, because if ever a house needed the Lord’s guidance, it was this one. Dad dressed in a suit and tie every Sunday and took his children to church. She wished God would get rid of Floozy. She prayed and prayed, but it never happened. Her siblings prayed for Mom to come back, but that didn’t happen either. Guess God must have been busy those days. Or he had a better plan in mind. She couldn’t imagine what. Mrs. Jennings had said God loved everybody. When Bea asked “even her?” meaning Floozy, Mrs. Jennings said yes. God was giving her time to be a better person. I sure wished she’d hurry up. Us kids hate her. “This is still your home, Bea.” Dad’s voice jerked her from her thoughts. A reminder of the disappointment in her father. The old house still felt like home. A mixture of harmony and misery floated around her. Glad to be here because it was home. Anxious because she didn’t know what waited on the other side of the door. Surely her siblings would greet her warmly. Excited, even. But the woman she dreaded facing triggered a sense of doom. Actually, Bea should channel that feeling to anger. Resentment for Floozy should make her stronger, more determined, tougher for any confrontation. She should show Floozy that Bea was not a scared little girl. As it turned out, Floozy ignored her. Lucy and Bussy grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. Charles’ eyes lit up, but he didn’t say anything. Razz came flying down the steps and dang near ran her over. Bea noticed the suitcases sitting outside Dad’s bedroom door. Good. That meant they were ready to leave.

Dad gave the children instructions and then said goodbye. When he closed the door, her siblings ran to the window, their faces plastered against the glass. They stayed that way until his car rounded the barn. Then they turned into the kids she knew, hollering and yelling like wild Indians. Dad and Floozy were gone four days.

Chapter Twenty-One

1944

Bussy liked being a hellion. He had a wild streak, and trouble was his middle name. He and his buddy, Petey, were like two peas in a pod. They were young enough, dumb enough, and wild enough to try anything, at least once. Bussy ran through the field and into the woods, ducking under tree branches and jumping over fallen limbs, headed to see his best friend, Petey. The tall trees hid most of the sun’s rays. Streaks of light filtered to the leaf-covered ground. He’d finished his chores as fast as he could, now he skirted branches, knocking them away from his face, and raced across the holler on Armstrong land. There in the cornfield was his buddy. “Hey, Petey.” “Hey. You been gone for a while. Nobody knew where you were.” “I’ve been up at my grandma’s.” “Are you back now?” “Wish I wasn’t.” Petey matched his steps and they walked side-by-side out of the cornfield. “I heard something,” Petey said. “What’s that?” “Paw said there’s a woman staying at your house.” “Yeah. A crazy woman.” Bussy broke off a strand of wheat and stuck it in his mouth.

“What’s she like?” “A she-devil.” “Heard she run off your sister, Bea.” Bussy clenched his jaw at the remembrance. He missed Bea. She’d held the family together when their mom left. Every time he thought about his older sister, he wanted to punch the old crone. “Yep. They had a fallin’ out. But Bea got a good lick in.” “She did?” Petey plucked a thread of straw and chewed on the end. They did things like that, together. They were best friends. “Yeah. Cracked her head up against the door frame.” Bussy chuckled. “That don’t sound like Bea.” “You don’t know the woman. She’s mean, Petey. Real mean.” “Maybe I’d better come down there and take a look-see for myself to see what she’s like.” “Don’t know why you’d want to do that. She doesn’t like kids.” “I ain’t no kid. I’m growed up.” “You’re the same age as me. Ten.” “Well, almost growed up.” Petey dug in his pocket. “I got some biscuits.” “Gimmy those.” Bussy snatched them out of his friend’s hand. “I ain’t had nothin’ to eat.” “Maw said that woman at your house makes pies. Thought I might get me a piece.” “Huh. She don’t even give us none.” Bussy shoved the biscuit in his mouth.

Petey stopped. “No pie?” “Nope.” Bussy cocked his head sideways and changed his voice to sound like Floozy. “She said ‘Sweets are for Jeremiah’.” Petey cracked up at Bussy’s imitation. “She talk like that?” “She talks and looks like a scrawny chicken. Clucks around our house, fussing at us all the time. She’s really mean to Lucy.” “Lucy? She’s feisty. I’d bet she can take her.” Petey started walking again, so Bussy fell in step with him. “Yep. She probably could.” “Hey. I got an idea,” Petey said. “What’s that?” “Why don’t we steal one of her pies?” Bussy jolted to a stop. Why the heck not? Just thinking of the wild blueberries hanging on the vines made his mouth water. If he and Petey could grab one of Floozy’s pies and not get caught, why, he and his sisters and brothers might get to eat a whole pie. He put his arm around his buddy’s shoulders. “Sounds like we need to make a plan.”

***

Dad had a car and Charles drove it whenever he wanted to; he’d been driving since he was thirteen. Bea saw him at the store and caught a ride to the farm. Today was market day, so she’d hoped Floozy had gone with Dad. No such luck. Charles said she stayed home. Still, Bea could avoid running into the woman. She had no intention of going near the house.

Charles pulled into the shed where Dad kept the car. He said Razz and Frosty were at a neighbor’s, so Bea decided to find Lucy. She’d heard Lucy was having a hard time. Birds were chirping, the chickens were running around the yard, everything looked the same as the day she left. She skirted around the flower garden, taking care not to be seen from the house. If she knew her sister, Lucy would not be inside. The latch clicked as Bea closed the gate by the cellar. Lucy had to be around here somewhere. Bea had covered just about everywhere she could think of. The stream behind the house was the only place she hadn’t looked. Bright streaks peeked through the trees giving the surroundings in the forest a mystical effect. She climbed over sticks and tree limbs as she descended the embankment. Rushing sounds of water gushing over rocks told her she was close. A little nostalgia fluttered in her veins. This was her home. She should be here. She balanced her weight on the incline to keep from tumbling down into the cold water. She saw a movement from the corner of her eye. Lucy sat beside a big tree, the low-hanging branches nearly hid her. “Lucy?” “Over here,” she answered with surprise in her voice. Bea climbed over more tree limbs to get to her. “Is that a can of beans?” “Yep.” Lucy dug into the can and shoved a spoonful of beans into her mouth. “What are you doing out here?” Bea asked as she sat on the ground next to her. “Gotta come out here to hide.” “Hide?” Bea’s shoulders tensed. She knew who Lucy was hiding from. “What happened?”

“The old witch won’t give us nothing to eat. I was hungry, so I stole a can of pork-n- beans. Got my own can opener hid in the tree. Up there.” Lucy pointed to a knothole in the tree trunk. “You have a can opener?” “Yep. Took it a while back. I figured she wouldn’t miss it. I keep it up there.” “How many times have you done this?” Lucy tried to talk with her mouth full. “A lot.” Bea waited a few minutes, giving her sister time to finish her food. “Are you coming home?” Guilt hit her at Lucy’s inquiry. How did she answer that? She was never coming back here as long as Dad had that woman in their house. She just wished she could take Lucy away from here. “Lucy, are you doing all right? Floozy hasn’t hurt you has she?” “She better not.” Lucy scraped the can to get the last little bit. “I’m twelve now. I’m almost as big as her. She fusses a lot. But she hasn’t hit me.” “If she ever does, you let me know.”

***

Bea adjusted the frame on the bedroom wall, then stepped back to ire her handiwork. A diploma. She’d graduated the twelfth grade. In the hills where she came from, not a lot of kids her age could boast that. Especially boys. If they had a life like her brothers, they never stood a chance. And if it hadn’t been for her Sunday school teacher, maybe she wouldn’t have either. Leaving Mrs. Jennings hadn’t been easy. Tears were shed, thanks were made, and she made Bea promise to visit often.

She glanced around the room she shared with her mother. Mom had a two-room apartment in the building across from the town clock. The clock’s ringing had kept her awake the first week, but it didn’t take her long to get used to the chiming of the clock every hour. As if to mock her, the clock bonged. Five o’clock. Mom would be home from work soon. She got off at four thirty, so she must have stopped off someplace. Since Bea worked at the grocery mart, she brought home food when she left work. So she didn’t think Mom would have gone there. Oh well. She shrugged and went to the living room. It wasn’t very big. They had a couch, a table where they ate, a hotplate on the corner cabinet, and that was about it. Bea wouldn’t complain. The little apartment gave her more comfort than the big house on Dad’s farm. A knock sounded, saving her from a path she’d rather not go down. She took two steps and hesitated. Mom wouldn’t knock. Bea opened the door. “Hi.” Charles stood there with a coat flung over his arm. “What are you doing here?” “Can’t I come to see you and Mom?” He stepped past her and plopped on the couch. With her eyes on him, she didn’t see her mom coming down the hall. Bea pushed the door and it pushed back. “Are you going to let me in?” Bea jumped with fright. “Good grief, I didn’t see you.” “Why’d you have the door open?” Mom plunked her keys in her pocketbook. “Charles is here.” Her gaze darted to the couch. “What are you doing here?” “You, too? Ya’ll act like you don’t want me here.” Mom set her pocketbook on the table. “You know it’s not that. Did something happen?”

Charles scrubbed his hand over his face. “Mom. You know how it is.” “I can’t believe that man would let that hussy chase my children from their home.” She slapped her hands on her hips and started to say more, then suddenly stopped—as if maybe she thought it would be better to keep her mouth shut. What could she say? She had no reason to carp. She left her kids. Charles kept his mouth shut, for once, but he probably thought the same thing. “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Have you had anything to eat?” What a question. If Bea had her guess, the answer to that was a big fat no. “I can put something on the hot plate or we can go downstairs to eat.” Mr. and Mrs. Yetzer had a restaurant business on the first floor of the apartment building. Every evening the aroma of delicious foods nearly drove her crazy. Mom would give in to Bea’s pleas and they’d go downstairs and fill their bellies. “Downstairs,” she said quickly. “Sure smelled good when I came in.” Charles stood and rubbed his stomach. “Mashed potatoes and gravy sounds good to me.” Mom picked her pocketbook back up. “Come on then.”

***

Charles moved in with Mom. The apartment may have been small, but Bea kind of liked having her brother around. He slept on the couch and tidied up behind himself, so she couldn’t complain. Since he had a driver’s license, he found a job quickly. Mr. Jamison had a shop and he hired Charles to work on his trucks. He also ran errands when his boss needed something. Charles was happier than a fox in a chicken house. Bea should have known it wouldn’t last.

She came home from the store thinking of the greens she’d brought for supper. Charles was sprawled on the couch, his face a mask of anger. “What happened?” “That old bitty, that’s what.” Bea knew exactly who he meant. She set her bag of groceries on the table and went to sit beside him. “What’d she do?” Charles scrubbed his hand over his face. He did that a lot when he was frustrated. “You might as well tell me.” “Dad came to the shop again. When he couldn’t get me to leave, he went to my boss.” “Mr. Jamison? What’d he say?” “I don’t know what all Dad told him. I could see them talking back and forth. My stomach bunched up in so many knots, I thought I’d throw up.” Charles’ arms crossed over his belly like he still might. “Let me get you something to drink.” “Don’t want nothing. It’s still upset.” “Mom has ginger ale. That might help.” She hurried to the refrigerator, grabbed a glass and watched it fizzle as she poured the liquid from the bottle. “Here. Sip it.” He took a sip, then stared at the floor. She settled on the couch beside him. “Then what happened?” “Dad left. Floozy was sitting in the truck. When Mr. Jamison walked toward me, I knew I’d been fired.”

“He fired you?” Bea shouted in surprise. She couldn’t contain her emotions— fury at the idea of Charles losing his job and then misery for her brother’s suffering. “No. He didn’t.” So mad at her Dad and Floozy, she nearly missed her brother’s answer. “What?” Charles lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Mr. Jamison said Dad wanted him to fire me. But he wouldn’t do it.” Bea couldn’t believe her ears. Her head spun in astonishment. Dad tried to . . . “Dad told Mr. Jamison he needed me at home. To work the farm. Mr. Jamison said I was a good worker.” “You are a good worker. Uh . . . I know you work hard. I’ve seen you.” “He told Dad he wouldn’t fire me.” Bea released the breath she held and took a minute to let that sink in. At least Mr. Jamison had stood up to Dad. “Well, there you are. You still have a job.” “Can you believe it, Bea? Dad tried to take my job away.” No. She couldn’t. And she could just imagine how that must have hurt her brother. “I’m sure he had some help.” Floozy more than likely had a hand in the mix. “Why would she want me back on the farm? She don’t like none of us kids.” She should have known Charles thought the same thing. “You’re an adult now. You’d be an asset to the farm. You’re a big help to Dad, even if you are the runt of the litter.” He swatted at her, but she jumped up and sprang out of reach. “I’m big enough. I’m a man.” He leaped off the couch and chased her. The room being small, he caught her before she could get to the bedroom. Mom came in the door to find her squealing “Uncle!”

A week later, Mr. Jamison was waiting when Charles drove into the shop. An uneasy feeling curled in the pit of his stomach. He eased out of Mom’s car, his muscles tight with tension. “Charles, can I speak to you?” “Yes, sir.” He followed his boss to the side of the building. “Your Dad came in a little while ago.” Damn it. “Now, don’t look so worried. I wanted to warn you. I like you. You work hard. You do a good job. I have no intention of firing you. But there’s some talk.” “What sort of talk?” “That you took something that didn’t belong to you.” Rage hit him square between the eyes. His hands fisted. “I ain’t never stole nothin’ in my life. Dad would have beat the tar out of me. He preached and made us kids toe the line. Took us to church ever’ Sunday.” “Now calm down, son. I don’t believe a word of it. I was warned to watch you. I think it’s another way to get me to fire you or get you to quit.” “I ain’t quittin’. Unless you want me to. I’ll be eighteen in another month. If you let me stay here till then, I’m enlisting in the Army.” Mr. Jamison was a man of his word and Charles proved he could be trusted. He worked so hard, that month flew by in a hurry.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bea studied the letter in her hand. Genevieve had invited her to Connecticut. She couldn’t believe her high school girlfriend got married and moved so fast. Bea barely had any time to get used to the idea. Woodrow Wilson Hospital and Rehabilitation Center provided counseling, guidance, therapy treatment under medical supervision, training opportunities, and psychiatric treatment for military personnel who’d been injured. Genevieve worked there and constantly talked about the servicemen. Then one day, a certain Italian boy became of particular interest. Jimmy. Her friend danced around like she floated on air when she mentioned his name. He was quite handsome, with his black hair and dark eyes. And he knew how to flirt. But they fell in love. Within two weeks he asked Genevieve to marry him. Bea had never seen anyone so excited. He recovered from his war injury, they married and moved to his parents’ house in Connecticut. He still served in the Navy, but his orders assigned him closer to home. By the letter she wrote, her friend seemed quite happy. She missed Bea and invited her to come for a visit. They lived with Jimmy’s parents and his mom welcomed the idea. Bea chewed on the end of her fingernail as she read the rest of the letter. Genevieve wrote about her husband, his family, and how she breathed easier knowing Jimmy no longer had to fight in the war. But the military needed fighter planes and a factory opened up to build them. Jimmy worked there; Genevieve got a job there, too. She hinted that maybe Bea would like to live in Connecticut, then went so far as to suggest Bea could get a job at the airplane factory. Bea hadn’t been anywhere—except when Dad took her to Illinois. She’d never thought about living in another state. Being twenty years old, she guessed that made her an adult. One who could make her own decisions.

Surprise seemed too mild a word when Mom said Bea could go. The first thing she did was write to her friend. Bea had been so excited, she packed her few clothes before realizing she had to make plans—like give notice at her job. The next morning, she told her boss as soon as she got to the store. Two weeks later, with her ticket in her hand, Bea boarded the train to Connecticut. Genevieve met her at the station and they jumped around whooping like a couple of kids. Bea had been edgy, not knowing what to expect, but Jimmy’s Italian family treated her like one of their own—his father quieter than she imagined he would be, his mother a plump ball of energy. Bea slept on a cot, but she didn’t mind. While she waited and hoped for a job at the airplane factory, she worked as a cashier at a shoe store. Friday night, Bea came home from work her usual time. Seven fifteen. She stepped inside the house and released a tired sigh as she closed the front door. Since Jimmy and his family called Genevieve “Ginny”, Bea did, too. Ginny rushed toward Bea making her think something was wrong. “I’m glad you’re home. I have a surprise.” Judging from her friend’s enthusiasm, it couldn’t be bad news. Ginny tugged her forward. “Jimmy brought home a friend. His name is Tom. He works with Jimmy.” When Bea stepped into the kitchen, a laugh blurted from a blond man sitting at the table. This must be the friend. “Now, Nanny. Why would I want to marry a girl when I have the best cook in the world feeding me?” He gave a huge grin to Jimmy’s mother. Everyone called her Nanny. “Tom.” Ginny drew his attention. “This is my friend, Bea.” Tom shoved his chair back and stood. “Nice to meet you, Bea.” His eyes sparkled while he stared at her. “Hello, Tom.”

“This is the girl you’ve been hiding?” he asked Jimmy. “I don’t blame you.” “She’s Ginny’s friend. So behave,” Jimmy said. “Of course he will.” Nanny stopped stirring her sauce to glance at Tom. “You a good boy.” Both men laughed. “Sit down,” Nanny told Bea. “Poppa and I already ate. Jimmy, Ginny, and Tom waited for you.” “You didn’t have to do that.” Bea set her pocketbook on the hutch and took a seat at the dining table. “She made us,” Tom teased. Nanny playfully shook a wooden spoon at him. He held up his hands. “I didn’t mind. But can we eat now?” Nanny placed a steaming plate of spaghetti in front of Bea. “Hey. How come she gets the first plate?” “She just got off work. She’s hungry,” Nanny answered Tom. “I worked hard today. Building planes isn’t easy.” Ginny carried two plates to the table for her and Jimmy. Nanny placed another one in front of Tom, then squeezed his upper arm. “Don’t look like you’re starving.” “That’s because you keep me fed.” Tom winked at Nanny. “Yes, I do. Now eat up.” Nanny left the kitchen to go find Poppa. Jimmy rose from the table. “How about another beer?” “Sure,” Tom answered. “You girls want tea or soda?”

“I want a Coca Cola.” “How about you, Bea?” “I’ll take one, too.” Jimmy handed her and Ginny each a glass and a bottle of cola. “ me some of that garlic bread.” Tom took two big slabs covered with butter. “Nanny sure knows how to bake bread. This stuff melts in your mouth.” Ginny took a slice and ed the bowl to Bea. “Are you off tomorrow?” The store scheduled Bea to work every other Saturday. This Saturday was her day off. “Yes.” “Good. Tom and Jimmy want to take us swimming.” “More like, you want us to take you,” Jimmy said around the spaghetti in his mouth. “Hey, man. Speak for yourself.” Tom glanced at Bea. “I’d love to take the girls swimming.” “Bea, do you have a bathing suit? If not, you can wear one of mine. Next week we can go shopping and buy you one.” “I’ve already saved some money. I could use some more clothes.” “Don’t you have Wednesday afternoon off? We can go shopping then.” Jimmy turned in his chair. “And how are you off Wednesday afternoon? Won’t you be at the factory?” “I get off at three. Bea usually works till seven.” Ginny glared at her husband like he didn’t have a brain. He shrugged his shoulders and stuffed bread in his mouth. Nanny’s food tasted great, so no one spent much time talking. When they finished, the girls did the dishes, and Jimmy opened a deck of cards.

“You girls want to play cards?” “Bea and I have played cards before, so I know she likes to play,” Ginny replied. “Grab a tablet and a pencil.” While Ginny went to the hutch, Bea took a seat at the table. Jimmy shuffled the deck, then counted out the cards to each player. “Why don’t we take a drive over to the plane factory tomorrow?” Tom asked while he stared at the cards in his hand. “Don’t you get enough time there during the week?” Jimmy spoke to Tom without looking at him. “Bea. You’ve never been there, have you?” Tom asked her. She shook her head. “I want a job there, but it hasn’t happened yet.” Tom laid his cards face down on the table. “We can show you around. It’s a pretty big place.” “We have to show our IDs to go through the gate. You think they will let her in?” “We can try,” Tom answered Jimmy, then he smiled at Bea. “What do you think? Would you like to go?” “Sure. I’d love to go.” The next day, Tom drove them to the airplane factory. The guards wouldn’t let them in. So they went swimming. Tom, Jimmy, Ginny and Bea did a lot of things together after that. They went to the park, went swimming, went for drives, but mostly they played cards. One month turned into two and before Bea knew it, she had settled quite contentedly in the Cinnotelli home. One night they went to the circus. Bea got to see the elephant.

***

One thing about a train ride, there were plenty of hours for a person to think. Bea didn’t feel like sleeping. Her friend had seen her off that morning and now she was headed home—to Virginia. A lot had happened this past year. She graduated and went to Stanley to live with her mother, even attended Dominion Business School for a while. While Mom worked at the sewing factory, Bea had gotten a job at a grocery store. She learned quickly that life sure was different in the city than on a farm. Then Ginny convinced her to visit Connecticut. Bea had been having the best time of her life with her best friend. She had a job she liked, lived with people she adored, five months ed in a blur. Then the letter came from her mother. Mom was sick. Real sick. She needed surgery. The doctor was going to strip the veins in her legs, which scared her to death. Scared them both. Mom needed Bea to take care of her after the surgery. Probably for a long time. From what she’d heard, things on the farm kept getting worse and worse. Her brothers were talking about ing the service as soon as they could, just to get away from home. It saddened her to think they lived for the day they could get away. A child’s voice caught her attention. Bea glanced at the woman across the aisle. She was a brave woman to be traveling alone with two children. She tucked a patchwork quilt around the small one, prompting her to sleep. On the row in front of her sat a young man in uniform. He reminded Bea of her brother, Charles. This man seemed too young to fight in a raging war. She feared for her younger brothers, for they were determined to . Bea leaned slightly forward in her seat, recognizing the scenery through the soot on the train window. Home. For the time being, anyway. She had hoped to make her permanent home in Connecticut with her friend. It surprised her how fast she’d settled into a routine and how comfortable she’d been with Jimmy’s Italian family.

No one would be waiting to pick her up. Mom had not been able to walk and she certainly couldn’t drive. Bea would catch a cab. She looked forward to seeing her mom. She hoped to see her siblings, too. The train wheels creaked as they rolled to a stop. Bea stood on the platform waiting for her luggage only to be told it was not there. She knew a man who worked inside and went to speak with him. “Mr. Cramer.” “Well, hello there little lady. Haven’t seen you for some time.” “Hello. I’ve been visiting a friend in Connecticut. The porter from the train can’t find my suitcase.” “I’m sorry to say, that happens sometimes. But don’t you worry none. We’ll find it for you.” “Are you sure? Where could it be?” “Chances are it’s still at the station where you left. I’ll radio them and find out. They’ll put it on the next train and it should be here tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” “Don’t you worry. We’ll find it. And when it comes, we’ll bring it to you.” That was a relief. All her clothes were in that suitcase. “Mr. Cramer, that would be nice.” “Where you staying? With your mom?” “Yes. At her apartment on Coalter Street.” “She talks about you all the time. Right proud of you, she is.” Bea flushed. “Thank you.” “Sorry to hear she’s sick. Gonna have surgery, I hear.” “Yes sir. I’ll be taking care of her until she gets back on her feet.”

“You’re a good girl. Don’t worry about your suitcase. I’ll get it to you.” He slid a paper and pen across the counter. “Write your address on here.” “Thank you, Mr. Cramer.” She scribbled her mom’s address and then handed him the pencil. The next day a man who worked for Mr. Cramer brought Bea her suitcase. Her eyes widened at the nice looking fella who stood at the door. At first she took in his blue button-collar shirt, darker blue pants and polished boots. But her eyes quickly returned to his green eyes, which crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Their green depths held laughter and a bit of mischief. She noticed his long lashes. Unusual for a man to have such long lashes. His smile grew larger. He looked at her as though he liked what he saw. Suddenly, her nerves prompted shyness. “Hi. I’m Lute. Norman told me you lost your suitcase.” “Well, I didn’t exactly lose it.” She twisted her nervous fingers in her skirt. “They couldn’t find it at the train station.” He casually leaned one arm on the doorframe encroaching her space, close enough for her to see the dimple in his cheek. Her heart gave a little flutter. Goodness. She’d traveled alone on a train to Connecticut, met dozens of people she didn’t know. Heck, she’d been taking care of herself for years, as well as rearing her siblings. She stepped into the real world with crowds of people where she’d been forced to fit in. She’d learned quickly to communicate, take charge, or get run over by the more aggressive. So why did bashfulness come forth to haunt her now? Could it be because Lute was so devastatingly handsome? Could it be his sparkling green eyes scrutinized her with more than teasing interest? Good grief, Ginny’s Italian family had mastered the art of flirtation. A large and loving family, flirting was a part of their everyday lives. Even Tom had flirted outrageously and it had all been in fun. Yet now, she stood here acting like a little girl.

She drew a breath and willed her muscles to relax. The air crackled between them. He tilted his cap back on his head allowing a curl of brown hair to fall over his brow. “So, here’s your suitcase.” “Oh. Thank you.” “Do you live here?” She nodded. “With my mother.” He shifted his stance, then leaned back against the opposite wall at the top of the stairway. His casual posture made him appear comfortable with himself. He sure seemed more adept at conversation than she exhibited. “So, where’d you go?” She blinked. “What?” Her mind wandered off and he had noticed. “When you lost your suitcase. On the train.” “Oh.” She stepped into the hall and pulled the door almost closed. “I went to Connecticut. My girlfriend married a soldier and moved there. His family lives there. He’s out of the Navy now. She invited me to come for a visit.” “That was nice. I’ve been on the train a few times. Didn’t go very far.” “I saw a lot of the countryside.” He gave a nod and that loose curl above his brow swayed with the movement. After a few quiet moments, his gaze fastened on hers. Once again, she stared into his almost transparent, green eyes. He rubbed one boot with the toe of the other. Could he be nervous, too? “Uh . . . maybe you’d like to, well, go to the park.” A relieved sigh escaped her chest. “I’d like that.” With a half-smile on his face, he shoved from the wall and strode to her. Her

breath caught when he stopped with mere inches separating them. “All right.” He grinned like he’d just sat down to chicken dinner. Then he spun on his boot and bounded down the steps. The next day, Bea wrote a letter to Ginny and wanted to drop it off at the Post Office. She checked her appearance in the mirror before heading out the door. While standing on the sidewalk waiting for the cars to go by so she could slip across the street, a boy stepped beside her. “Bea?” She turned to him. “Hello, Mike.” He’d been one of the stock boys who worked at the same grocery store when she was here last year. “I thought you moved away.” “I went to Connecticut.” “It’s good to see you. Are you back now?” “I’m here to take care of my mom. She’s having surgery.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope she does all right.” “Me too.” “If you’re back to stay, you could probably get your old job back at the store.” “It depends on how long it takes Mom to recover. I plan on going back to Connecticut.” “Oh, well.” The stoplight changed to red, so now she could cross the street. She took a step forward. “I’m headed this way.” Mike gave a nod in the other direction. “Good to see you, Bea.” “You too, Mike. He gave a slight wave.

“Bye,” she said and crossed the intersection. When she stepped onto the next curb, there stood Lute. “Hello, Lute.” He glanced toward Mike, then back to her. “I thought you would be my girlfriend.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Time ed slowly. The short days of winter finally lengthened into long hot summer days. Razz swiped his arm over his forehead and plopped his hat back on. Gold and crimson streaked the sky, dusk drifted upon them. With not much light left, they’d be leaving the hay field soon. The hitch from the tractor to the hay bailer broke and Wink was trying to fix it. Dad crawled up from the ground and brushed his pants. “You boys go on to the house and get supper. Tell Flossy, I’ll be along directly. Gonna be dark in a few minutes. Send Henry back with a lantern.” “Yes sir, Dad.” They couldn’t do anything until the hitch was fixed, so he and Charles took off. He wondered what Floozy fixed for supper tonight. He was hungry enough to eat a whole hog. Maybe even get a piece of pie before the old bat locked it up in the pie safe. He relished the taste of blueberries and imagined the syrupy substance in his mouth. “What you got that stupid look on your face for?” Charles snapped him out of his sugar fantasy. “I’m thinking of blueberry pie,” Razz answered as they rounded the barn. “If Dad don’t come in out of the field, wishing is the only way you’re gonna get it.” “Someone mention pie?” Frosty came from the hog pen. “Razz here, is wishing for pie.” “Where’s Dad?” “Hitch broke. Dad and Wink are workin’ on it. Where’s Henry?” “In the barn.”

Charles went to give Henry Dad’s instructions, so Razz and Frosty headed to the house. “Supper must be ready?” “I sure hope so. I’m hungry.” Frosty opened the screen door to the springhouse. “Me, too. Dad told us to go ahead and eat. He’s gonna be a while.” Floozy was sure to serve skimpy portions for them until Dad came in. They washed up and a few minutes later, Charles ed them. “I could smell the food clear down on the other side of the barn.” “The only thing you could smell down there was hog poop and cow patties,” Frosty said as he soaped his arms. “All I smelled was shit,” Razz said. “Better not let Dad hear you cussing,” Frosty told him. “You’ll be takin’ a walk to the woodshed.” “Huh,” Charles snatched a towel. “Don’t let the battle-axe hear you. The story she’ll tell will be worse.” “Ole bitch. Won’t let us have no pie.” Razz took the towel from Charles, dried his hands and handed the rag to Frosty. “Have sense enough to keep your voice down, Razz.” “Why? Ain’t no secret how we feel.” “I’d rather go back to Grandma’s house. Don’t know why Dad came and got us when she don’t want us here.” Frosty hung the rag back on a nail. Razz wondered about that himself. He followed Frosty and Charles to the house. The smell of pork and gravy made his mouth water. His stomach growled. He stepped to the supper table thinking about mashed potatoes. When he pulled out his chair, he froze, staring at the plate in front of him. Socks! Dirty socks! On his plate.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Floozy standing with her arms crossed at her middle, a spoon held in one hand, a smirk on her ugly face. He knew if he looked directly at her, he’d be tempted to wring her neck. He had the urge to stab her in the gut with the pitchfork he used in the hay field. But he just stood there, unable to move. Blood pounded at his temples. He didn’t know he could hate someone so much until that moment. He fisted his hands on the wooden chair-back. Usually, he didn’t hold back. Usually he didn’t care. But he knew if he as much as touched her, he wouldn’t stop with one punch. Razz shoved his chair and stomped from the room.

***

Jeremiah lifted the razor strop from a peg and smoothed the leather over the palm of his hand. Discipline was a necessity when you had four boys. Raising a hand to his children hurt some, but it needed to be done. “Dad?” Razz stood in the doorway of the woodshed with the light casting him in shadow. “In here, Razz.” “Charles said you needed me?” His eyes darted to the leather strap. Jeremiah slapped the leather against the leg of his overalls. “Got something to tell me?” “I didn’t do nothing.” “If I want manure, boy, I’ll walk down to the barn.” Razz’s eyes flashed. The boy never showed fear. He could be proud the boy stood his ground, but he couldn’t allow his children to be disrespectful.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” “But Dad—” Jeremiah sent him a silencing glare, daring the boy to say anymore. Razz’s shoulders drooped, but he stepped forward ready to meet his punishment. “I didn’t do nothing.” “Flossy says you did.” “Floozy,” Razz spat. “She lies.” “Don’t go disrespecting your elders.” Where had he gone wrong? Razz defied him at every turn. “She lies,” he yelled. “She’s mean and ornery and—” “I told you to be quiet!” Jeremiah yelled back. He usually held his temper pretty well. But the boy tested his patience. “You know better than to raise your voice to me.” Razz fisted his hands. “But you don’t listen. I’m telling you she lies.” “Did you throw your dirty clothes at her? And then refuse to pick them up? Did you carry your dirty socks to the table and put them on your plate?” “No, Dad. No. She did that.” “Boy. I taught you to tell the truth. You know better than to point the finger at someone else when you do something. You gotta own up to what you did.’ “I didn’t do it. I swear.” “Now you’re swearing. Boy, take your punishment. When we go to church this Sunday, you’ll be having a long talk with Pastor Wade.” “But—” “I’ll hear no more.”

***

Lute held Bea’s hand while they strolled through the park. With his long legs, he had to slow his steps to match hers. The sun warmed her face and the slight breeze made it a perfect day for their walk. The pathway led to a pond filled with water, but a huge tree stood right in the middle. As if an island had popped up out of nowhere. A few ducks lingered in the shade, while several swam in the pond. “Look. Babies.” Bea pointed to a mother duck with seven ducklings following in a row. They were so cute, she couldn’t contain her excitement. She hadn’t been around any animals since she left the farm. Funny she would think of that now. Lute laughed, causing her pulse to leap. Mom’s surgery went well and Lute had come by often to check on her. He brought flowers. Then on Sunday, he delivered on his promise and took her to the park. For three Sundays straight, they strolled through the park. During their long walks together, they talked about everything. Bea learned his mannerisms and grew more attracted to him every day. As they rounded a cluster of trees, Lute tugged her hand and drew her into the shade, darting behind a huge oak. He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers. She’d never been kissed before. She thought a man only kissed a woman he might marry. Her heart raced. She stared at Lute with questions in her eyes. He took her hand, interlacing their fingers, and stepped back onto the path. His breathing seemed normal. How could he be so calm? Well, if he could act as if nothing happened, then she could, too. She notched up her chin with self-assured dignity, hiding her pleasure within. She hadn’t expected such a rush of feeling.

Oh, how she wished he would kiss her again.

***

Little did Bea know as a young girl, what her life would be like when she became a woman. She’d been seeing Lute for a few months. Her mother had recovered and was back on her feet. Yet, the thought of going back to Connecticut like she’d planned, no longer held any appeal. She spent her days working at the super market—they were glad to have her back. And she spent her free time with Lute. The man made her toes curl. She’d settled into a routine and liked it just fine. Tonight, Lute took her to the picture show to see John Wayne. Mom wasn’t home, so Lute told Bea goodnight at the door. Rational thought floated away when he stared at her like that. She felt herself swaying toward him. Her hands stole around his neck. When he deepened the kiss, she gasped in surprise. He parted her lips with his tongue. His tongue. And she liked it. He slid his arm around her waist, tightening his hold. She melted into him. She never imagined the sensation of being in his arms could feel so wonderful. This must be desire. Ripples of pleasure raced down the center of her being. Abruptly, he drew back. His hands on her shoulders, he looked at her with intensity. Just stared into her eyes for what seemed like forever. Finally, he touched her cheek, smoothing one finger over the curve of her jaw and down the vein in her neck. She watched his eyes follow the path of his fingers. Then his heated gaze fastened on hers. She couldn’t move, paralyzed by his touch. Swamped with emotions running

rampant in her body. The only thing she could do was stare up into his blazing green eyes. “Marry me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

1946

Married. Bea stared at her husband of less than an hour. Lute had courted her, charmed her, and now she was his wife. Not long ago, she’d planned a future in Connecticut with her friend. Who knew a lost piece of luggage could change a person’s life? She ed Ginny, notifying her of the change of plans. Her friend was excited, wanted all the details, and promised to visit as soon as she could. Mom would be moving soon. Evidently, her boyfriend met a racecar driver from up north and decided to the racing set. When Harlan packed up and moved to Pennsylvania, where the driver’s mechanic shop was based, Mom decided to follow him. Dad and Floozy showed up. At first Bea had been surprised, but she reasoned her dad cared for her. He even offered his car for them to take on their honeymoon. So, of course, Floozy had a fit. A hissy fit this time. If she’d tried one of her slobbering, flopping fits, Bea would dump the cake on her head. Her siblings attended. She hadn’t seen Frosty and Bussy in a while. Charles came home on leave from the service. He looked spiffy in his uniform. Razz said he was g up even if he had to run away. Lucy promised to behave, though her eyes shot daggers toward Floozy. Bea felt her eyes sting. Gosh, her sister and brothers were all grown up. Lute grasped Bea’s arm and tugged her to Dad’s car. A bunch of white flowers, tied with a ribbon, sat on top of the hood. Streamers hung around the window above the driver’s door. Cans and jar lids had been tied to the bumper on the back. It’s a wonder her brothers hadn’t done more—but then, it was Dad’s car. Lute looked so handsome in his suit and tie. He put his arm around her and

pulled her close to his side while Mom flitted around like a butterfly, holding her camera and telling them how to pose for pictures. Her new husband propped one foot on the running board below the door of the car. How debonair. He looked so handsome. She thought of a word she’d heard somewhere—dashing. And when he smiled at her, she lost her heart all over again. After pictures, they received several congratulations. When she saw her father approach, a lump formed in her throat. “I’m happy for you, Bea.” “Thanks Dad.” “Lute, here’s the keys.” “Thank you, Jeremiah. I appreciate it. I’ll take real good care of your car.” Those words came back to haunt them. The time came for Bea and Lute to begin their trip. Lute took their bags and threw them in the trunk. Then, he held the door open for her to climb in the enger side. There was that smile again. Her shoulders dropped with her sigh. Excitement bubbled in her chest. He started the engine. “Are you ready?” “Oh, yes.” “Well, then. We’re off.” He put the car in reverse and backed up. Crunch! The car rocked. “Damn.” “What was that?” She was almost afraid to ask. “I don’t know.” Lute opened the driver door, slid out, and walked to the back of the car. When he disappeared, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She hopped out and found Lute on his knees peering under the car. Oh, no. He’d get his suit dirty.

“Well, I guess that takes care of that.” Lute climbed up and brushed the dirt from his hands. Bea held her breath. “I hit a pipe. What is a pipe doing here of all places?” Bea bent at the waist, searching under the car. Sure enough, a pipe stuck up out of the ground and had gotten wedged in the bottom of the car. “Now what?” “I don’t know the extent of damage. If I move it, I could make it worse.” He thrust his hand through his hair. “Only one way to find out. Stand back out of the way.” “All right.” She stepped back up onto the sidewalk. Lute got in the car and tried to pull forward. She heard a horrible noise, worse than before. He slapped his hand on the steering wheel, then scrambled out of the car. “We’ll have to go back inside. I need to call a tow truck.” Darn. There went their honeymoon.

***

Bea was gone, Lucy was gone, Charles ed the Army, and, before long, so would Razz. Bussy stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock, watching it fly through the air. The only good thing with being stuck on this farm was his best buddy, Petey. They did everything together. Just before Bussy reached the fence dividing the properties, he saw Petey lollygagging, heading in his direction. Petey tossed something shiny in the air and caught it. When he saw Bussy, a big grin split his face. “Hi, Buddy.” “Hi,” Bussy answered.

Petey’s brow scrunched up. “Musta been another fuss.” “Yeah. Old witch was hollering, so I went the other way. Probably get socks on my plate.” “I still can’t believe she did that to Razz. And your dad took a strap to him?” Bussy’s hands fisted in anger. Every time he thought about it, he hated her that much more. “She lies. She tells stuff on us kids that ain’t so.” He forced himself to calm down. It happened a long time ago. “Sides. Razz said Dad took it easy on him.” “Easy, hell. Any licks with a strap ain’t easy.” “He’s bigger now. He don’t take nothing off her. I ain’t either.” “That’s the way.” Petey slapped him on the back, ing him like a good buddy would. “What you got there?” Bussy pointed to the object in Petey’s hand. “Oh. Found it lying beside Clay’s car. He came by to see Pap. He had boxes of junk in his trunk. When they went in the barn, I wanted to see what all he had in there. Found this on the ground.” He handed it to Bussy. “Figured if it fell out of his box, then he didn’t want it.” Bussy looked it over. The hunk of metal didn’t interest him, so he handed it back. “What do you want to do?” “We can go up to old man McCray’s.” “Sure. He don’t mind us.” “He can’t mind much of anything if ‘n his wife lets a pig sleep in bed with her.” “The old man, or the pig?” Bussy smirked. “I like the old man.” “Hmph. Wonder where he sleeps?”

“Not with her. There’s no room.” When they got to McCray’s, the old man sat on the porch smoking his pipe. When he saw them, he smiled and gave a little wave with the pipe in his hand. A friendly old man, he liked to talk a lot. Many afternoons, Bussy and Petey would listen to him tell stories. Some of them pretty funny. “You two are inseparable. What are you boys up to today?” “Nothing.” Petey propped one booted foot on the stoop. “Can’t think of any meanness to get into?” Bussy smiled. “Guess not.” McCray leaned back and grasped his suspenders at the shoulders. He did that a lot when he was thinking. “There’s an old rust bucket behind the chicken coop.” His pipe, clenched tight within his teeth, wobbled as the old man spoke. “You boys can tinker with that.” Bussy shot a glance to Petey who stared back at him. Then he turned back to the old man. “A rust bucket?” “Over there.” He pulled the pipe out of his mouth and used it to point, and nodded to the chicken shed. Why hadn’t they seen it before? “Go on. Have a look see.” McCray stuck the pipe back between his teeth. Bussy jumped up and took off. Petey raced beside him to see who could get there first. Old man McCray didn’t have many chickens, but the coop was big enough to hide the car parked behind it. Bussy rounded the corner at a dead run and slid to a jarring stop when he spied a big green car with several brown spots of rust. With slow steps, he moved to one side, and Petey strode to the other. Bussy lifted the handle and opened the door. It creaked. What were probably once white leather seats were now discolored with dirt and covered with straw.

“Looks like the chickens been living in here,” Petey said as he opened the other door. “Yep.” Bussy thought he’d found a gold mine. Old man McCray said they could tinker with it and that’s just what he planned to do. “What if we clean it up?” Petey whistled through his teeth. “Gonna take a lot of cleaning. Why?” “Maybe it’ll run.” “If it would run, do you think the old man would have it sittin’ back here?” “Let’s take a look under the hood.” Bussy popped the latch and raised the hood. “Don’t look too bad.” “Looks better than the inside.” Bussy had to agree. He moved a few wires and tugged a cable here and there. “It has a battery.” “Don’t mean it’s gonna start.” He wouldn’t let Petey discourage him. “Let’s ask the old man for the keys.” Petey shrugged. “I reckon he’d still have them.” “I don’t know why not.” Bussy slammed the hood down. “Wonder how long this car’s been sitting here.” “Long time, if you ask me.” “Come on. Let’s go find out.” The closer Bussy got to the house, the more his excitement grew. A car. If they could get it running . . . “What ya thinking, Buzz?” “I’m thinking I want to see if it starts.” He glanced at his friend. “Don’t you?” “Sure. And if it don’t?” “The old man said we could tinker with it. So we tinker till we get it started.”

“Sounds good to me.” “You think he’ll let us drive it?” A big grin crossed Petey’s face. “Got to get some keys first.” “Right. Keys.” They hurried their steps. Old man McCray sat right where they’d left him. “You boys find the Plymouth?” “Yes, sir,” Bussy answered. “When was the last time you drove it?” McCray scratched his head. “Don’t rightly know. Been a spell. I know she needs some work. You boys think you can get her started?” “We’d sure like to try.” “Well, I got a shed full of tools. If you want to give her a try, I’ll get the keys.” Bussy swiveled to Petey. They spoke at the same time. “Keys.”

***

Bussy and Petey spent every afternoon over at old man McCray’s working on the Plymouth. The old man called it a rust bucket, but Bussy didn’t care. At least it ran. He’d never felt anything like the thrill that surged through him when the engine cranked over. Nor the feeling of accomplishment when old man McCray said he’d done a good job. He and Petey took it out every chance they got. When Bussy sat behind the wheel, he felt like he was sitting on top of the world. What other thirteen-yearold boy had a car to drive any time he wanted?

Working on the car had occupied his time and kept him away from Floozy. As long as he did his chores, Dad didn’t care what he got up to. Of course, Dad fussed if his brothers took the truck or went somewhere without asking. Didn’t like wasting gas. He’d put his own gasoline pump down by the barn, so Razz and Frosty would sneak some without Dad knowing. Bussy learned from them. He never mentioned the car to Dad. He figured the man would find out soon enough. He also knew he shouldn’t have driven it to the farm, but he needed some money. He had a little bit saved and hidden in a box. He thought he’d get in and out of the house real quick. Damned if Floozy hadn’t caught him. “Keep flapping your lip, Floozy.” Bussy shook his fist and turned his back on her heading for the car. Petey waited, never saying a word. “You’ll what? I’m gonna tell your father.” Bussy jerked open the door and hopped in. “Old Bitch.” “Man, you were right. She’s crazy.” “I knew we shouldn’t a come here. I can take it, but she don’t need to carry on like that with you.” “She gonna tell your Pap?” “She’s always telling him something. Don’t pay her no mind.” He could hear her still screeching. The feel of the steering wheel beneath his fingers grounded him. He took a deep breath and then another, feeling his heartbeat slow. His rebel adrenaline kicked in to replace his anger. He turned the ignition and revved the engine, drawing solace from the ear-piercing roar. The tension oozed from his body and his lips lifted in an evil smile. With one foot on the gas and the other on the brake, he gave Floozy a hateful glare. Then he popped the clutch and watched her eyes go wide as he headed straight for her. She screamed but stood frozen, as if rooted to that spot.

When he got within a few feet of her, he whipped the steering wheel, barely missing her body. Seeing her eyes bug out of her head added to his rush. He gave the wheel a whirl, sending the car spinning in a circle on the grass. When the car stopped, he stomped the gas again and bounced down the rutted lane. “Damn, Bussy. I thought you done run her over.” Petey shifted in his seat. “Aw, hell with her. Nothin’ can hurt that witch.”

***

Skippy must know when it’s time for the school bus, Lucy thought. He came bounding down the lane before she and Bussy rounded the barn. She’d bet he’d been waiting on them. She loved that dog. He ran circles around her, barking and wagging his tail, until she dropped to her knees and gave him a big hug. In the clearing beside the barn, several kettles of water hung over a fire pit. Butchering day. Usually Dad made the kids stay in the house while he shot the hogs, but today they’d been in school. Lucy and Bussy, anyway. Razz and Frosty stayed home to help. They hung poles in the trees, carried the wood for the fire pit, and prepared the kettles. The hogs would be dipped in the water and then they’d have to scrape the hides. Lucy shivered. She sure was glad she didn’t have to do that. She’d rather bury vegetables in the truck patch. Lucy opened the door and stepped inside the house, preparing herself for a confrontation. It seemed to be a daily occurrence. Glancing about, she found the house empty, so she climbed the stairs to her room. Floozy was there, going through her stuff. Lucy didn’t have much. A brush and mirror on top of her dresser. A necklace with a cross that had belonged to her mom—she usually wore it on Sundays. A wooden box for secret stuff, which held three pennies and a note from Harry, a boy at school. But this was her room. Her room. And the biddy had no business in here. “Get out! This is my room.”

“What you got hid up here?” “Nothing that belongs to you.” Lucy threw her book on her bed. The covers were flipped up. Floozy must have been looking under the mattress. “What are you doing?” “I know you got something up here.” “Like what?” Lucy held her hands in the air. “You got something.” “You better get your butt back down those steps before I throw you down them.” “You ain’t gonna do nothin’.” Lucy took a threatening step toward her. Floozy screeched and cowered against the wall. “I’m gonna tell your dad.” “Tell him what? That you were stealing my stuff?” “I didn’t take nothing.” “That’s because I don’t have anything to take,” she yelled back. Bussy’s form filled the doorway. “What’s going on in here?” “She’s been going through my stuff.” Bussy gave Floozy a hateful stare. “Get out of here, you witch.” “I’m gonna tell Jeremiah.” She stepped past Bussy and then turned. “You children are devils.” “The only devil in this house is you.” Floozy slapped him. That’s all it took for Lucy to spring at the woman. Floozy tried to run, but Lucy caught her.

“You leave my brother alone.” She grabbed Floozy’s hair and jerked. The witch started screaming. “Leave off, Lucy. I can take care of myself.” When Bussy reached a hand toward Lucy, Floozy bit him. “Damn!” A gray haze covered Lucy’s eyes and all she felt was rage. “I’m gonna kill you.” She jerked the woman’s hair again. Floozy smacked and kicked. Lucy fought back. Getting rid of the hateful witch was the only thing on her mind. She couldn’t fight the urge to throw Floozy down the steps. Lucy grabbed her arms. “I told you if you didn’t leave me alone I was gonna throw you down those steps.” Floozy screamed like a banshee warrior during an Indian raid. Lucy didn’t care. She tried to drag Floozy to the stairs. Bussy grabbed her ankles, Lucy had her arms. Together, they started to swing. “What’s going on in here? I could hear screaming clear down at the barn.” Dad stormed up the narrow steps. Bussy dropped Floozy’s feet, but Lucy held on until Dad tugged her arms. “Lucy, let go!” He had to pry her fingers open. Then, he wrapped his arm around his howling wife and took her down the stairs. A roaring sound whirred in Lucy’s head. Her gaze followed them to the bottom of the steps and through the tiny doorway. “Lucy.” Bussy touched her arm. “Lucy.” The narrow stairs were boxed in by the walls. The woman would have surely broken her neck. Lucy looked up into her brother’s face. “Dad didn’t do nothin’.” “What was he gonna do? He had to take care of her. She was acting all wild and crazy.” Lucy glanced down the stairway. “He’ll be back.” “Yes. And we’ll deal with him then. Are you okay?”

She turned to meet her brother’s gaze. “I would have done it. I would have thrown her down those steps.” Bussy snorted. “I just wish Dad hadn’t gotten here so fast.”

***

Lucy refused to stay at the farm any longer and Dad agreed. When Frosty showed up on Bea’s doorstep with Lucy, Bea just shook her head. Another one of her siblings free from the evil woman’s tyranny. It seemed her sister and each of her brothers were slowly being driven away from their home. Maybe Dad should never have gathered his young’uns and brought them back to the farm. Bea listened with a bit of distress as Lucy and Frosty retold the incident that brought them here. Bea was amazed that her siblings were actually going to throw the woman down the stairs. Sorrow filled her soul that they had been driven to violence. After listening to the story of Lucy and Bussy’s episode, Bea welcomed Lucy into her home. No need to worry about her sister being sad or depressed. Heck no. Lucy was so glad to be away from the mad woman, she’d marched right in fussing about how she left. Would Dad ever wake up and see what Floozy was doing to his children? Bea notified their mother. Mom drove down a few weeks later and took Lucy to Pennsylvania to live with her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

1948

“Let’s go bell snickling.” Bussy rolled his head to scowl at Petey. The sun barely noticeable in the evening sky, dark settled upon them. Since they couldn’t make up their minds what to do, they’d parked in a field and lounged on the hood of his car. Hell. It might as well be his car. Old man McCray let him drive the Plymouth any time he wanted. After a few months, the old man asked why he kept bringing it back. So, now when he and his buddy went to McCray’s, it was just to visit. With his arms cradling his head, he’d been half asleep when Petey’s voice disturbed him. At the moment, he didn’t want to move. “What you want to do that for?” “Why not? What else we got to do. Might be fun dres in a costume and going around scaring people.” Bussy crossed one boot over the other. “I don’t know if I want to dress up in a costume. But I like the idea of scaring the shit out of the Heavener boys.” “Yeah. They’re some mean sons-a-bitches.” “I’m bigger now. They don’t scare me anymore.” He’d grown quite a bit since he became a teenager. At fourteen, he was as tall as his dad. “If we fight with them, we won’t get no cider.” “We can get cider and cake from the other houses.” Bussy stretched his legs and propped his head back in the crook of his arm. His muscles relaxed, and he was all loose and limber when Petey spoke again.

“My mom has an old trunk stuck in a corner of the upstairs room. Got some old stuff in it. We can go through that.” “I ain’t gonna put on no dress,” Bussy huffed. Petey busted out laughing. “She’s got men and women clothes in there. Belong to her grandparents, I think.” Bussy thought about that. “She gonna let us look? Or do we have to sneak?” “Naw. She’ll be okay with it.” Bussy shook his head. At his house, he’d have to sneak. He’d been skirting around Dad’s harlot for so long, he didn’t know any other way. “I can’t believe your ma is so nice.” “She can give a switching as good as Pap. I don’t know which is worse. The sting of her hickory tea, or Pa’s belt. Course Pa would give a lecture and mostly just hold the belt.” Bussy swung his legs off the hood and slid to the ground. “Wish we had a ma like yours at our house instead of Floozy.” Petey laughed. “She ever hear you call her that?” “Sure. Why do you think I’m such a good runner?” Bussy winked. “Had to hightail it out of the house right after, many times. “Does she tell your pa?” Bussy gave him a hard look. “You know she does. True or not, or if she makes stuff up. She’s mean, Petey. Shame me and Lucy didn’t throw her down the steps. The woman tormented all us kids, but she had a special nastiness she’d aimed at Lucy. That woman is pure evil.” “She gives me the creeps.” Petey sat up. “What about your real ma?” “Don’t much about her. Guess I was too little.” Bussy leaned one hip against the car. “But I do being hugged a lot. I sitting on her lap in the rocking chair all nice and squishy, kinda like sittin’ on a pillow.

Saw her at Bea’s wedding.” “Yeah? Can’t imagine going a long spell without seeing my mom. What’s she like?” Bussy smiled. “She’s still squishy.” He straightened and stepped around to the driver’s door. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s go.” Petey jumped down with a “Yee Haw!” Bussy cranked the engine. “Ya know what? Floozy ought to be the first person we scare.” “If my pap catches me, I’ll be in trouble.” “I’ll tell him I did it by myself.” “Won’t matter,” Petey replied. “He knows we’re always together. Besides, the old witch’d know it was you. She’s probably got your dad attached to her side tonight. Best go snickling somewhere else.” “Let’s head over to Franklin and get some beer.” Bussy whipped the car in a circle and sped to the dirt road. “Now you’re talking.” They liked heading to Franklin. Someone over there would always give them beer. One honkytonk, just over the state line, happened to be a favorite hangout for a lot of folks. In no time, he and Petey stood in the parking lot, joshing with some buddies. After a few beers, they decided to head out. “Still want to go snickling?” Petey asked as he climbed into the car. “Don’t have no dress up clothes. People would guess us right off.” Bussy gunned the engine and took off. Tires screeched and the car slid sideways. He just grinned. He liked driving fast. When he came upon a straight stretch of highway, he stomped down on the gas

throttle. His hands tightened on the wheel as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. Speed. Man, this car could go. Too late, he saw the sharp turn. He whipped the wheel to the left. The car went careening off the pavement and into a field. As if in slow motion, he saw the ground come up to meet him, the flash of headlights bouncing around in the dark, and then suddenly everything stilled. He blinked. “Whoa, boy.” Petey slouched over at an odd angle. “Petey? You all right?” “Yeah. But that was some ride.” Bussy pulled himself through the driver’s side window and crawled from the car. “Can you climb out?” Petey’s head popped through the open window. “I’m coming.” With his hands on his hips, Bussy stared at the Plymouth lying on its side. “Didn’t make the turn.” “Noticed that. We’re still in one piece.” Petey laughed. “Let’s put her back on her wheels.” Together, he and Petey pushed and heaved until they got the car right side up. Then they climbed inside and took off again. Ended upsetting twice that night.

***

Frosty and his buddy had set out to go bell snickling and ended up at the dance at the high school in Monterey. When the time came to go home, he walked Sue Ellen to her parents’ car, then hightailed it back to his buddy.

“Frosty and Sue Ellen, sitting in a tree. K i s s i n g.” Frosty glared at his friend, Jerry. “At least I got me a girlfriend.” Jerry made smooching sounds on the back of his hand. “Knock it off.” Frosty couldn’t help but grin. He sure would’ve liked to kiss her. Several cars pulled out of the school parking lot at the same time. Some turned left, a few turned right, heading across the mountain. “I had a right smart time.” Frosty glanced at his buddy. “You didn’t even dance.” “Don’t like to dance.” “You’d have better luck with the girls if you liked to dance. All girls want to dance.” His boots might be worn out, but their comfort made it easier with his high stepping and smooth sliding. Dancing gave him a chance to get a girl in his arms, too. “I talked to some girls.” “Talking’s all right, I guess.” Frosty winked. “But if you want to kiss them, you better learn how to dance.” They reached the top of the mountain and started down the winding curves. As Jerry rounded a sharp bend, two cars were pulled over to the side. With the twisted mountain curves, part of the vehicle still stuck out in the road. Then he noticed one of the cars had run smack dab into a huge slab of rock. “What the hell?” Jerry hit the brakes. “Pull over. We’ll see if we can help.” Jerry drove into a ditch as close to the embankment as he could get. Frosty hopped out and ran across the road. The second car had not been part of the accident. Two men stood at the enger door of the wrecked car. A third man pulled the driver out –a boy he’d seen at the dance.

Roger? He seemed to be dazed but he stood and walked toward Frosty. Then he just dropped. Frosty ran forward the same time as the driver of the second car bolted. Roger had his eyes closed, blood oozed down the side of his face. “He’s out.” The man placed his fingers on the boy’s neck. “I don’t feel a pulse, but I’m not sure.” “Is anyone going for help?” Frosty glanced up. Jerry stood at his shoulder with a worried expression. “Yes.” The man he didn’t know answered. “Someone stopped and they’re going to a phone to call an ambulance.” “Who else is in the car?” Jerry’s question made Frosty aware another person remained inside the smashed car. “A girl. She’s stuck.” He and Jerry hurried over. The girl inside cried for someone to help her. Tears streamed down her face while she begged for them to get her out. She couldn’t get her leg free. “It will be all right. Help is on the way.” Two men tried to comfort her, but she cried harder. “She’s scared Jerry.” “So am I.” “I feel awful. I don’t know what to do.” “Nothing we can do.” Frosty stared at the girl, then lifted his gaze to his friend. “Ya think Roger is dead?”

“I don’t know.” Jerry put his hands in his pockets and shifted his feet, rocking nervously from side to side. “He won’t wake up.” Frosty wanted to do something, but had no idea what. He and Jerry just stood there, helpless, until the sheriff and an ambulance arrived. A big wrecker with a crane showed up, too. The rescue squad people covered up Roger and took him away. Frosty watched in silence, ing how Roger just fell over—how quickly his life ended. No one told the girl stuck in the car about Roger. Her sobs had quieted some. When the rescue team said the only way to get her out of the crushed car was to saw her foot off, Frosty’s mouth dropped open in shock. When the girl realized what they planned to do, she started screaming at the top of her lungs. Frosty watched in horror. The buzz of the saw rang in his ears. He stumbled to the ditch, threw up in the brush, and ed out.

***

He did it. Bea’s hand trembled from reading her brother’s letter. Razz enlisted in the service last year and now he was a paratrooper. He’d been hell-fire bent on getting away from the farm. Everyone knew why. All of her siblings felt the same. Razz kept telling Dad if he didn’t sign him up, he’d leave home anyway. So Dad had finally signed the papers so Razz could go before he turned eighteen. When he told his buddy, Vance, he signed up and would be leaving in a few weeks, Vance wanted to enlist, too. So he talked to his mom and dad. He’d raised enough hell and caused enough trouble, his mom was all for shipping him out. “You better sign up that boy or I’m gonna kill him.” They laughed about it afterwards. But he and Razz went to basic training at the same time.

Frosty and Bussy were the only two left on the farm. How had Dad allowed his children to be chased away? Bea could take comfort that she’d married and now had a home of her own. She’d just had her first child. Joanne was three weeks old. She placed the baby in the middle of the bed and stepped from the bedroom as a knock sounded on the door. She peeked at the sleeping infant, then went to see who’d come to visit. “Hi, Sis.” “Frosty. What are you doing here?” Bussy poked his head around his brother. “You, too? What’s going on?” With a big smile plastered on his face, Frosty answered. “We come to see the baby.” “How did you get here?” “Dad’s truck.” Bussy stepped through the doorway, allowing the screen to close behind him. “You’re too young to drive,” she said. “No I’m not. Sides,” Bussy pointed to his brother, “he drove.” Bea glared at Frosty. “Where’s Dad?” “He took the old bat to get hitched.” “What?” Her eyes flew wide with surprise. Dad was going to marry Floozy? “Yep. They’re getting married.” “Wouldn’t bring us to see you.” Her head veered back to Bussy. “Yet here you are.”

“He said you had the baby. Where is it?” Bussy asked as he glanced around the room. “It is asleep.” When Lute’s brother moved to Florida, his three-room house stood empty. Lute bought it and moved them in. A place of their own. And just in time. With the baby, they needed more space. Frosty sat on the couch while Bussy stood with his hands on his hips. “Where’s Lute?” “Got anything to eat?” Both of her brothers spoke at the same time. “Lute’s at work, and Bussy, you’re always hungry.” He shrugged. “You know what it’s like. Old bat won’t feed us unless Dad’s there.” All they’d had in the apartment was a hot plate. Now Bea had a stove. But her brothers could do with a sandwich. She had fixings in the refrigerator. She took a loaf of bread from the bread box. “So Dad’s getting married?” “Him and Floozy went to Churchville.” Frosty rose from the couch and followed her to the kitchen. “I’ll take one of those, too.” Bea pulled the bologna from the refrigerator. “Churchville. You had to drive through there to come here.” Bussy grabbed a piece of bologna. She glared at him. “Don’t you want that on bread?” “I can eat this one while you put another one on the bread.” She shook her head. “So how long was Dad gone before you two hit the road?”

“Weren’t long,” Bussy answered stuffing the whole thing in his mouth.

***

Sure enough, Dad had seen the cattle truck through Churchville. When her brothers got home, Dad gave Frosty the devil. A few days later, another knock sounded on Bea’s door. “I was wondering if I could stay with you.” Frosty stood on the porch with a satchel in his hand. “For heaven’s sake, get in here.” Bea clamped him in a big hug. He crushed her to him. “I had to leave. I can’t take no more. Can I stay here? I’ll work hard. I won’t be no trouble.” It looked like Floozy had run off another one. “Don’t worry about that. Have you had anything to eat?” “Naw. I’ll take a slice of bread.” There was that smile she’d missed. Her brother always had been a looker. Even she fell for his wily smile. “You can have more than that to eat in my house.” Bea led him to the kitchen. Money was tight, she and Lute didn’t have a lot, but she’d share what they had. She pulled fixings from the refrigerator to make a sandwich and ed she’d done this only a few days ago. “I hated leaving Bussy. He’s not home much anyway.” “He’s not? Where is he?” “Anywhere he can go.” Frosty pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “Spends most of his time with Petey. Since old man McCray gave Bussy that car, he stays on the road. He and Floozy can’t get along at all. So he just stays gone.”

“What does Dad have to say about that?” She spread some mayonnaise on the bread, added bologna, then added a slice of tomato. “Nothing no more. What can he say? Bussy would just take off.” She placed his sandwich on a plate and handed it to him. “Thanks, Sis.” He tore into it like he was starved. “Slow down. There’s more.” She poured a glass of lemonade for each of them. “Where does Bussy go?” “He just takes off driving. He comes home at night, though. He don’t have nowhere else to go. If he tried to stay anywhere else, they’d just go get him.” He took another bite and swallowed it whole. “Look what they did to Charles.” “What do you mean?” “I heard Floozy talking to Dad about getting Charles fired when he stayed with Mom. I want to get a job. Do you think she’ll do the same thing to me?” Bea patted Frosty’s hand. “I don’t think they would try that again. When Dad asked Mr. Jamison to fire Charles, he wouldn’t do it. He told Dad that Charles worked hard, he wasn’t about to fire him.” “Yeah, but then she went and lied. Said he stole something, but he didn’t.” “All that worked out. Don’t you worry about that now.” “I’ll get a job, I swear.” “I know.” He took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with his drink. “What about Lute? Will he let me stay?” “Of course he will. While you’re here, Dad and Floozy won’t try nothing.” Although she couldn’t be sure, she hoped they wouldn’t. Dad had to know by now that Floozy caused his children grief. That woman alone had been responsible for each of them leaving the farm.

“Only till my birthday. Then I’ll be enlisting, too.” Frosty’s words drew her from her thoughts. She suddenly realized what he’d just said. “You, too? How will I survive knowing all my brothers are in the service? Charles, Razz, and now you?” “She did it to us. We all want to get away. What else is there?” Bea loved her brothers dearly. Her heart hurt from the black cloud that hovered over their childhood. Dad had a thriving farm, a good business, yet all his children had deserted him. Who were the wounded in this situation? Were the children not the ones who suffered? Had they not been abandoned? First by their mother, then by their father when he brought a woman into their home who ran them off? That evening when Lute came home, he welcomed Frosty, telling him he could stay as long as he wanted. Frosty got up bright and early the next morning. His search for employment landed him at a construction site. The home for a hospital to be built in Stanley paid fifty cents a day. He came back to the house, all excited, and thankful just to have a job. Months later, on Frosty’s birthday, he enlisted in the Air Force. The day he left, he told Bea and Lute they were the parents he never had.

Chapter Twenty-Six

1952

The woodshed was dark except for the few streaks of sunlight peeking through the cracks. Bussy stepped around the first two rows of logs and hunkered down in the corner. He scooped some dirt and sticks out of the way and unearthed the small Prince Albert tin box wrapped in cloth. It was still here. The house wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust the old bat not to steal it, if she found it. No one knew of his hiding place. One day soon . . . Skippy scampered on the side porch. Bussy froze, listening for footsteps. With the sound of a door closing, he heard his father speak. Bussy rose slowly and placed his hands on the wooden slats, one eye peeking through the crack. Dad and Floozy were dressed to go someplace. “His car is here. He can’t be too far.” “Come on, Jeremiah. My sister will be looking for us.” “I need to tell the boy where we’re going. We’ll be gone for a couple of days.” Air hissed through Bussy’s teeth. Gone for a couple of days. Hallelujah! “He can take care of hisself. I’m ready to go now.” Dad shut the screen door and shuffled out the gate. Bussy wanted to dance. He’d have some peace for a few days. He grabbed his box and hurried from the shed, taking his treasure with him. The staircase was narrow, causing him to bump his elbows on the walls. When he reached the top, he placed the tin box on the bed, and opened the lid. Empty.

He blinked. “Son of a bitch!” And he’d thought the old bat didn’t know of his hiding spot. He snatched the tin and threw it at the wall. The sound of the crash echoed through his mind. All the money he’d managed to save, all of it. Gone. He gripped the hair on his head with frustration. Good thing she and Dad were gone or he just might kill her. He trudged the few steps it took him to cross his bedroom, turned and stomped back the other way. He paced back and forth with no idea of what he should do next. An ache the size of Virginia filled the empty hole hacked in his chest. That’s it. No more. He couldn’t take any more. He gathered his things and flung them on the bed. He ran out to the springhouse and seized a burlap sack. Back upstairs, he stuffed his few belongings into the bag and tied a rope around the end. After one quick glance around the room, he slung the bag on his back and headed back down the stairs. When he stepped outside, the first thing he saw was the old Plymouth. He wondered if it would get him to his sister in Stanley. He’d been waiting for his turn to enlist. Just last week he got a letter from Frosty saying he’d met up with Razz in . Bussy planned to the Navy. He’d most likely spend a lot of time on the water, but when they went to shore, maybe he’d meet up with one of his brothers. That’s putting the cart before the horse. He wouldn’t be eighteen for a few weeks, yet. Even if he wasn’t old enough, he had to get away from here. Sis would help him. Her husband would, too. Bussy threw his sack in the back seat and jumped into the front. He thought of his best friend. He couldn’t leave without telling Petey. Bussy ran his hand over the dash, thinking of the sorry state the car had been in when he first saw it. He and Petey both had worked on it. Maybe he should leave the car with Petey, since he wouldn’t be here to drive it. The ten mile walk to the corner store would be nothing to a young man who was used to roaming these mountains every day. Then he could hitch to Stanley. Hell, if he had to walk all

the way, he’d do it. Might take him two days, but he wasn’t worried. His pulse sped with unrest. Now that he had a plan, he was determined to follow it through. Once he signed up, he might even get to ride a train to his duty post. He heard there were big ships in Norfolk. What would it be like to be in the middle of a vast ocean? He might be headed for war. Fighting was something he was used to. There’d been plenty enough fighting at home; so what if there was more in his future. He figured he could handle it.

***

1953

Razz stepped off the airplane at the Shenandoah Airport. Now that’s the way to leave a plane, walking down the little set of steps that became a door when you closed it up. He’d been told many times he was crazy for jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. But that was his job. Or at least it had been. His hitch was up. Or it would be as soon as his papers were processed. And that would be in about four weeks. Leave time accumulated while he’d been with his paratroopers overseas. Man it was good to be on Virginia soil. He couldn’t wait to see Sis. She now had two young’uns of her own. Bea. A momma. Razz hefted his duffle bag over his shoulder and headed across the tarmac. There she was. Bea. Waving her fool head off. When he got close enough he dropped his bag and swept her up in a bear hug.

“Oh my gosh, Razz. You’re crushing me.” Tears ran down her face. She clasped a palm over each of his cheeks. “Let me look at you. Oh, how I’ve missed you. You look good.” “So do you.” He reached a hand around his sister. “Hello, Lute.” “How are you doing, Razz?” “Just fine. Just fine.” They shook hands while he still had one arm wrapped around his sister. “Looks like you’ve been taking care of Sis.” He glanced at the baby in Lute’s arms and then his gaze lowered to the little girl clutching her daddy’s pant leg. “And who do we have here?” “This is Joanne, she’s four. And this is Salina, she’s ten months.” With a lot of coaxing, Bea finally got the little girl with blond curls to come out from behind her daddy’s leg. Razz slightly shook his head. “I can’t believe it. You have children of your own.”

***

Nothing had changed much in the years he’d been gone. Dad was . . . well, Dad, and Floozy looked like a scrawny chicken. As for the farm, a lot had changed. Loggers came in to cut Dad’s trees, he’d sold his trucks—except for his cattle truck—and no men worked for him. It looked like Dad had been working the farm alone. He still had his buckwheat field, hay field, and tended his animals. Razz saw some sheep and cows in the meadow. No milking cows. Who would milk them? Razz shouldn’t feel guilty about leaving. Hell, it was his dad’s wife—he finally married the woman—that had run him off. Run them all off. Nope. He would not feel guilty.

A vehicle vaulted up the lane, leaving a trail of dust swirling in the air. Razz held his hand over his brow to block out the evening sun. Hot damn. Danny. Razz rubbed his hands together and bounded down the porch steps. “Headin’ out, son?” Dad called from the side of the house. “Yep. Going out with Danny and Wade. Don’t wait up for me.” He gave his dad a wave and then crawled into the front seat of Danny’s Ford. “Perfect timing, Danny.” “Glad you’re home.” He turned to see Wade in the back seat. “Hi, Wade. Where’s your brother?” “Petey’s staying with Granddad for a while.” “Hope he’s doing all right?” “Yep. He’s fine. Petey goes down there sometimes. Keeps the old man company.” “Good.” Razz shifted his frame frontward and rested his arm in the open window of the sedan. “Where we going?” “Franklin.” They both answered. Razz laughed. “I’m old enough to buy beer now.” “It’s still the best honkytonk around.” “Closest, too,” Wade said. “Oh. I forgot Junior here.” Razz tossed his thumb toward Wade sitting in the back seat. “I’m fifteen.”

“Still underage.” “I might let you have a sip of mine,” Danny teased the young fellow. Wade was quick with a comeback. “Come on you guys,” Wade complained. “Danny, you said you would let me come along.” “That don’t mean nothing.” “Sure it does. Razz. We’re celebrating, right? If you don’t give me some beer, there’s plenty others who will.” “Pipe down, Wade. If ya behave yourself, we’ll see.” Razz recollected himself at that age. He’d already tasted more than one beer. All the young bucks went to West-by-God Virginia to get booze. Danny drove to Franklin to Tracy’s beer t. Razz met several friends he hadn’t seen in years. He wasn’t too worried about drinking. He spent most of his time reconnecting with his buddies and ended up spending the evening in the parking lot shooting the breeze. When Danny said he was ready to leave, Razz agreed. He was pretty tired. “You all right to drive, Danny?” He held up a soda can. “I been sipping. Got Wade with me. I ain’t taking no chances with the law neither.” “That’s good.” In his younger days, Razz liked the drinking and assing around. Wasn’t much else to do, and back then, he didn’t give a damn about much. The military made him see things a mite differently. Now he looked at life with new respect. Appreciated things more. He knew his growing up years should have been better. Now he knew there was a better life out there for him. So even though Wade was fifteen, Razz kept an eye on the fart. His siblings had to fend for themselves, grow up quick. Run wild with no one to care. Wade had a family who cared. Razz liked the boy. He wasn’t going to let Wade get all wild and crazy. Not while he was with Razz.

They piled in the car and headed home. “That was fun. You sure have a lot of friends, Razz. Half of the county knew you.” “I guess it’s because I’ve been gone so long.” He propped his elbow on the door frame while he rested his chin on his hand. “I did a lot of running around and met a lot of people when I was your age. Not all of it good.” “Danny lets me tag along with him sometimes. I want to be a paratrooper, like you.” Wade squeezed his bicep. “Look at all them muscles.” Razz thought about the PT training and all the jumps that had sculpted each one. “You’re still in school and you need to stay there.” Wade slouched down in the back seat. “Pap would tan my hide if I didn’t.” “It’s the best thing for you. After that, you can decide what you want to do.” “Wade,” Danny interrupted. “What’s this I hear about s?” Wade leaped forward and grabbed the back of Danny’s seat. “What about her?” Razz had taken some ribbing when he first ed the service. With his size and his fighting skill, others quickly learned to leave him alone. Even so, he liked teasing and funning. Seeing Wade’s anxious reaction over the girl’s name, he had to poke at Wade a bit. “s? Who is s?” Razz shifted to see Wade’s face. “She’s a girl.” “I sure as hell hope so.” Wade rolled his eyes. “She’s a girl at school. Lives in Monterey.” “Heard you were sweet on her,” Danny said. “What’s she look like?” Razz asked at the same time. “She’s pretty. Long blond hair.”

Danny slowed to make the turn to Wade’s house. “Dim your lights, fool. Hey. That guy is weaving—” “Shit!” Razz saw headlights swerve into their lane. Danny turned the wheel to keep from hitting the on-coming car. The front end took a nose dive and smacked into the earth. The impact threw Razz from the car. His first thought was airborne. A little like jumping out of a plane—without a parachute. He landed face down in mud. When his ears stopped ringing, he tried to open his eyes. His entire body felt like one huge pain. His lower body swathed in the chilling water. It was dark, but he could see the cement bridge. A slither of light glimmered from the car’s headlights buried in the bank of the river. Half of the car was submerged in water. Pushing himself to his knees, he crawled to the car, his limbs sinking in the murky sludge. Suddenly he found himself sliding into the rustling brook. “Danny! Wade!” Razz fought the water to get to the bank, then shoved his way to the car. His gaze locked on Wade, his torso hanging out of the open door. Razz tried to lift him back inside; he was too weak to pull him from the wreckage. He maneuvered Wade partially inside and made sure his face was out of the water. He glanced at Danny. He was wedged in the steering wheel, crushed into his seat. His lifeless body trapped. Razz hung his head as pain sliced his soul. Bile rose in his throat. Then he jerked his gaze to the road. What about the other car? Did the driver see what happened? Did he even stop? “Mother Fucker!” Razz didn’t have energy to waste on recriminations. He had to get help. His legs were near numb from the cold water, yet determination drove him. He’d been in tough situations before. He could do this.

He crawled through the water, each step a torturous struggle. He swiped the water from his face, then realized due to the thickness, it was more than likely blood. He might have a few broken bones, if the racking pain was anything to go by. He forced himself to put one hand out, then concentrated on bringing his leg forward. One more step. One more.

***

After breakfast, Paul Gum took his young son, Barry with him to feed the cows. The herd was in the south pasture, about two miles from the house, where he had them grazing this time of the year. Walking kept a man fit, and when Barry went with him, the long walk seemed shorter. An eight-year-old boy had plenty of energy and Barry had more than most young’uns his age. “I’m ready, Pa.” “Come on then.” Before they were halfway up the lane, Barry had picked up several sticks he decided would be good for fishing poles. “Here’s a long one, Pa.” “Well, now. That’s looks like it will make a mighty fine fishing stick.” The boy beamed with pride. When they got to the pasture, Paul opened the shack he used to store feed when he used this pasture. Barry ran inside and straight to the grain bin. “I got the bucket. Can I scoop the feed?” Paul handed his son the tin scoop he used to measure the feed. “Here you go,

boy. Now let’s see if ya learned what I taught ya last time.” Barry eagerly grasped the scooper and dug into the bin. After he filled the bucket, Barry tried to lift it. After two grunts, he gave up. “Let me take that one and you fill the next one only half full.” When his son finished the second bucket, they carried the pails outside to the crib. Then he went back inside for a hay bale. He cut the string, then he and Barry spread a few piles here and there for the cows. “You did a good job, son.” “Thanks, Pa.” Barry grabbed his sticks. Paul locked up the shed and they headed home. Once again, Barry ran ahead. When they came to the short bridge, Barry headed to the water. “Pa. Pa. Come quick! Look! It’s a car! Pa! Come quick!” The way Barry was screaming, Paul’s heart nearly jumped into his throat. He ran to his son and stopped in his tracks. “Barry, you run to the house and have your Ma call the sheriff. Go now. Hurry.” He clambered down the bank, sliding into the water. He recognized the car but the first person he saw was Wade. He tried to feel for a pulse. Even though he felt nothing, he wasn’t a doctor, so he wouldn’t count the boy out just yet. He glanced to the driver’s seat and saw Danny. Poor boy. Paul shook his head and said a quick prayer. He hadn’t seen the car on the way to feed his cows. How long had these boys been here? He glanced up to the top of the bridge to see if anyone was coming to their aid. And saw another man. As fast as he could, he scrambled to the man’s side and rolled him over. Razz Baldwin.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A reunion. Some might call it that. But the Baldwin siblings had gathered today for a funeral. Razz. Bea couldn’t believe it. He’d just gotten home. His discharge papers would not even be processed for another few weeks. She twisted the handkerchief between her frenzied fingers. He had his whole life . . . “Bea.” She felt a hand on her back and glanced up to see her brother, Frosty. “Are you all right?” “I still can’t believe it.” “I know. The rest of us are going in the house. It’s just us. Come inside. We’ll get a glass of tea or lemonade, or even coffee.” “All right.” She moved her feet and blindly walked with him to the porch. He held the door open as she stepped inside, then ushered her to the dining room. She glanced at her siblings sitting around the table. Charles. The oldest of the boys. His head lowered, he sat with his hands encasing a cup of coffee. He’d met a fraulein in . He seemed right taken with her. But, after his three years in the Army, he came home and met a girl from West Virginia. He married her, had two kids, and now lived on a lower section of the farm. He had a job in Stanley and drove across the mountain every day to work. Razz would have been next in the line of siblings. Bea blinked her eyes and a tear escaped. Frosty placed a glass of lemonade on the table, pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit. Then he sat beside her. He’d been born next. During his time in the Air Force, he met a girl in Texas. Since he had no reason to come back to the farm, when he got out of service, he married her and stayed in Texas. He drove a tanker truck for an oil company. Since he’d just recently married, his

wife thought this not the time to meet his family. She stayed home. Next to him was Lucy. She looked good. Dressed in a curve-hugging outfit, she looked stylish. Evidently Pennsylvania agreed with her. Her eyes no longer seemed haunted, although they were red from crying. She’d gritted her teeth when she saw Floozy at the church. Her brothers performed a miracle getting Lucy to the farm house. The promise that Dad and Floozy would not be ing them probably cinched the deal. Lucy had gotten a job at the same factory as Mom and seemed to like living in the north. Lots of Italian families up there. From what her brother told her, Lucy had her eye on a certain Italian fella. Her gaze turned to Bussy. Her baby brother. He looked so handsome in his Navy uniform. A sailor. He spent months on a ship in the middle of the ocean. He’d always been skinny. Looking at him now, either he didn’t eat or he burned the food off. If she’d been on a ship bouncing around in the ocean, she wouldn’t even have an appetite. She missed his smile. He was always funning about something. Which was a marvel when she thought of the hell Floozy put him through. In this house. If these walls could talk. “Sis.” Frosty called her name twice before she realized he was speaking to her. “You okay?” Bea lifted her lemonade. Her palms tingled from the cold glass. Cool liquid seared her tear-clogged throat. “All three of them.” She glanced up to see Bussy shaking his head. By all three he meant Razz, Danny and Wade. Dear God. Wade was only fifteen. “Cars were lined up for miles down the highway.” Charles munched on something. He stuck his hand in a brown paper bag and tossed whatever it was in his mouth. Frosty saw him and asked, “What ya got there, Charles?” “I don’t know, but you better go buy some. They taste pretty good.”

Bea appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood. Or maybe he munched because he had so much nervous energy. Her brother ate, but he was as skinny as a twig. She glanced about to the rest of her siblings sitting around the table all glum. “People said they were drinking.” Anger filled Bussy’s voice and his jaw clenched so tight, she could see the sharp angle of his bone. Probably were drinking, but if Bea knew her brother, they were not drunk. Bussy hurt. Not only for his brother, but for his best friend, Petey. Wade was his brother. “People like to talk,” Lucy said in annoyance. Frosty held a glass of tea, his grip turning his knuckles white. “The sheriff said they weren’t going very fast. So you know they weren’t racing or driving crazy.” “How did he miss the bridge? Danny was a good driver.” Charles finally made eye with her. “Who knows how long they . . . Mr. Gum found them the next morning.” A whimper escaped Bea’s mouth. “All night.” Frosty said as he patted her shoulder. “He tried to crawl for help.” Bussy scraped his chair back in frustration. He stepped to the big window, staring out at the hay field. She’d bet he didn’t even see it. “They said he’d crawled up the bank. He was trying to get to the road.” “That’s our brother.” Lucy nodded. “He was mean, but he protected his family and friends.” Now that Lucy lived with Mom, her whole demeanor had changed. Not only had she grown up, she looked pretty and more self-confident. “Mean.” Charles snorted. “We were all mean.” “Speak for yourself,” Lucy shot back. “You and Razz were always fighting. Over nothing.” “It weren’t nothing when he clobbered me with that monkey wrench.” “You probably deserved it. What were you two fighting over, anyway?”

“Just never you mind.” A grunt came from Bussy that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “You scared the crap out of us. And Mom near beat Razz to death.” Bea shook as she ed the scene. Razz on the ground. Mom clobbering him like a wild woman. “You want to talk about mean, how about you two?” All heads turned to Charles, wondering which two he meant. He pointed to Lucy and Bussy. “You two.” “What?” Lucy glanced at Bussy with raised eyebrows. “He can’t be talking .” “I wasn’t the one who tried to throw Floozy down the steps.” Lucy crossed her arms around her middle. “it it, Charles. If you’d been there, you would have helped.” “Too bad Dad caught us.” Bussy still stared out the window. Bea knew he didn’t mean it. They would have killed Floozy if they’d thrown her. The staircase wasn’t wide enough for her to roll. A horrible picture formed in Bea’s mind—arms and legs at all angles. She shook the image away. “I heard one of you had her head and the other one had her feet. Were you really going to throw her over the rail?” “Sure was,” Bussy turned back to the group as he answered. “She and Lucy were already fighting. When I heard Lucy screaming, I ran up the stairs. They looked like two cats scratching at each other. I tried to help, and the hussy bit me.” “Oh my stars,” Bea sighed. Bussy glared at the table and grumbled. “I was gonna make her see stars.” Lucy leaned forward in her chair. “You know, at the time I was too mad to care. But, it’s a wonder Dad didn’t skin us alive.” “Speak for yourself.” Bussy glared at his sister. “Mom came and got you.”

“Finally. Thank God.” The air seemed thick as everyone grew quiet once again. They sat in silence for several moments, each one in their own thoughts. Frosty broke the silence. “Was Mom really that bad?” Bea held her breath. She and her siblings had never talked about what their mother had done. She had always considered them too young to understand anything when Mom left. She thought about Frosty’s question. “I don’t know.” “I’ll tell ya what I know.” Bussy spoke harshly in anger, but the hurt surfaced in his voice. “She went off and left us.” Frosty shook his head. “How could a mother just walk off? And leave a batch of kids up and down the county?” Charles met his gaze. “I just know Harlan left and Mom followed him. She followed him to Stanley. She followed him to Pennsylvania.” “He’s not there anymore,” Lucy said. “Mom’s courting a doctor.” “Still, she didn’t deserve the love of her children.” Charles shrugged like it didn’t matter. By his words, maybe he knew what was going on. “Not from the ones she forgot about.” Bussy scowled at Lucy. “She didn’t forget any of us. Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not my fault.” Bussy strode back to his seat at the table and flung his arm around Lucy. “That’s all right. I still love you.” When he started making smacking noises with his lips, Lucy pushed him away. Then she leaned toward Bea. “Bea . . . do you hate her?” The question took her by surprise. Lucy lived with Mom so, of course, she loved her. And from the look on Lucy’s face, she couldn’t handle the thought of the

other siblings hating her mother. “Mom? No, I don’t hate her.” She straightened in her chair and rested her elbows on the table. “None of us knew what was going on back then. We’re all older now. We have a grasp of certain things. After seeing the women Dad brought home, and the way he let Floozy treat us, I’m saying maybe we don’t know the whole story.” “Mom’s good to us.” Charles huffed. “Floozy’s a witch.” Lucy ignored Charles and focused on Bea, “What do you mean?” “Well, maybe she had a good reason to leave. To leave her children.” Bea’s voice drifted off. No. She didn’t hate her mother. In the years since her graduation, Bea had gotten to know her mom and loved her. “A good reason to leave us?” Bussy shouted. “How can you say that? Did you live in the same house I did?” Frosty put his hand on Bussy’s shoulder. “Bussy. I know you’re angry. But you love Mom, too.” He turned to Bea. “Bea, I know you love mom. I do, too. But I also know you’re bitter. Cause you’re the oldest and you had to raise us kids.” Bea twisted in her seat. “How could you think that? I’m not bitter. At least, not anymore. And I was never bitter toward any of you.” She met the eyes of each one at the table, trying to convey her love for each of her siblings. When her gaze landed on Bussy, her heart broke at the worry revealed in his eyes. Mom had left Bussy with Bea. She’d practically raised him. “I love you all. I grew bitter when Dad brought that battle-axe into our home. Mom ran away. Left us. Left a mess behind for us to clean up. I thought we were doing pretty good before Floozy came along.” “You gave us candy.” Bussy’s lips curved up in a half-smile. Goodness. Her brother would be a heart breaker. “When I had a penny left over from the egg money, we all got candy,” she reminded him. “You took care of us.”

She leveled her gaze on Frosty. “I did my best.” Charles crumbled the brown paper bag. “You did good.”

***

A big trucking company opened in Stanley. Every week Lute went there in hopes of getting a good job with better pay to their family. And every time he came home, Bea encouraged him and said “Maybe next time.” Finally, one day, he managed to meet the boss, who knew of his repeated attempts. The owner decided any man who showed up every week asking for a job needed to be hired. “That boy wants to work. Give him a job.” So Lute went to work driving an eighteen wheeler. Their little house bordered the edge of town. A pajama factory opened its doors and d openings. Bea applied and because of her business education, she received a supervisor job. She went to work at Chadbourn Gotham Pajama Factory. On the weekends, she and Lute would go visit their families. Lute had three sisters and one brother who lived close by. One weekend they would go visit Bea’s dad. The next weekend they would go to one of Lute’s siblings. Going to the country on weekends gave their daughters the experience of life on a farm. The girls loved the country. A twinge of nostalgia hit Bea as she watched them run through the fields, the way she and her siblings used to play. Before her life went to . . . She shook off her doldrums. Life moved on. Floozy no longer intimidated her. Maybe because they were adults. Maybe the woman feared Bea’s husband. Whatever the reason, Floozy seemed serene. The girls didn’t like her much. Children were smart. They sensed a person’s true nature. Bea’s mom fawned over the girls. They adored her. And Lute’s sisters

were nice to them. Treated them like the family they were. Family was everything.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

1955

Bussy drove through the grass and parked in a row of trucks behind the twostory house. When the Landis family gave a party, half the county attended. With the parents gone, their son would sometimes give a shindig. Glenn Jr.’s parties usually started before the sun went down and lasted through the night. Every young person within miles of hearing usually showed up. Lively music floated with the breeze. One fella played the banjo and a few guitars added to the mix. The sun hung low on the horizon; it’d be dark before long. Bussy should be at the farm getting ready for the town dance. He’d promised to meet his buddy, Petey. The reason he’d come here was simple. He had to see her. A long time ago, he craved her. She helped ease the pain over losing his brother. He fought the longing, but for months he ate, slept, and dreamed of her. He weaved through the cars and saw several people in back of the house. Then he saw her. She stood on the porch leaning against a rail, looking like an angel. Long black hair glistened under the sun. A jean skirt hugged her rounded bottom. His fingers tingled ing where his hands had been the last time he’d seen her. He recalled every curve, the softness of her skin. He shook off the memories before his body’s reaction became evident. He bounded up the steps, his excitement spurring him on. What would she think of him showing up out of the blue? Without warning? “Hello, Susanna.” Neither one of them moved as she faced him. His muscles seemed frozen and, for a second, he feared she didn’t recognize him. Then he saw her every emotion

reflected in her eyes. Recognition, surprise, amazement, then the heated glow of affection. “Bussy?” An enticing lift of her lips granted him a smile. He gave a half-smile. He knew how to kink one side of his mouth up into a sexy grin, just short of a leer, that had the ladies falling over themselves. Hell, he’d practiced it enough. Of course, being in a Navy uniform added to his lure. Tonight, he wore no uniform. Just his blue jeans and a shirt. He stared from her glossy dark hair over her rosy cheeks, down her curvy figure to her long legs ending with a pair of scuffed boots. She’d grown more beautiful while he’d been gone. “It’s really you.” Her whiskey brown eyes sparkled with delight. “You’ve developed more muscle.” As if she couldn’t resist, she placed her hand on his arm and squeezed, shooting tingles of awareness through him. “I’m the same man who held you in these arms not so long ago.” He rested a hip on the rail and reached for her, pulling her to stand between his thighs. She pressed her palm against his chest and leaned into him. Her touch burned like fire. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he slid his arms around her, drawing her close. They came together as if they had never been apart, holding each other tightly. Her heart pounded in rhythm with his. The past twenty-two months dissolved into the night. He’d missed her. But he had no idea just how much until now. Having her in his arms felt like heaven. She made him feel worthy, made him believe in good again. At the first touch of her lips, his pulse hitched. Warm in his arms, eager for his touch, she quickly melted into the kiss. Her familiar scent comforted him, her caress encouraged him, and when she opened her sweet mouth to his seeking tongue, she robbed him of his senses. Everything inside him came to life. As if it were yesterday, the same warmth, the same feelings, filled his chest. He’d dreamed of just this moment. He’d craved her for so long. And now, Susanna was in his arms. When they finally came up for air, her erratic breathing matched his own. He ran

his hands up and down her back, inhaling her flowery fragrance, basking in her fervent response. The entire world suddenly seemed bright. His heart filled with hope. “Damn, you look good.” “I can’t believe it’s you.” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “How long have you been home?” “Got home last night. Spent most of the day with Petey.” His fingers glided over her shoulders, caressing her neck, enjoying the silky feel of her hair. He couldn’t stop touching her. “Of course.” Her bottom lip rolled out into a full pout. “Your best friend. I haven’t seen much of him.” “He lives in Covington. But as soon as he heard, he came up to meet me.” “I wish I’d known.” She glanced down to the opening of his shirt. He slid his thumb under her chin and tilted her face to meet her eyes. “You know now. I’ve barely been home twenty-four hours.” His voice lowered. “I had to see you.” “How long are you here? Are you home for good?” “Not yet. I’m thinking of reenlisting.” He toyed with her long hair, wrapping a curl around his finger. She could help him make his decision. “Don’t you get seasick?” “Who? Me? I love the water. Always have.” His hands wouldn’t stay still. He kept caressing her body. She smiled. “You swim like a fish.” “Yeah.” He ed her in a skimpy swimming suit. How much trouble he had trying to keep his arousal hidden—until he didn’t need to. With no space between them, he hugged her closer. “Wanna go skinny dippin’?”

She pulled back, severing their hold. “How did you find me?” She glanced over her shoulder. Several guys with beer cans stood nearby, a few held cups he suspected contained something a lot stronger. Minding their own business, they didn’t pay much attention to him and Susanne. “I had a hunch. When I heard Glenn Jr.’s parents would be gone a spell, I figured he’d be up to his old tricks. Looks like I was right.” He glanced about. Several people were down by the tables of food, some wandered over to the music. A bunch of yahoos formed a mob by the trucks. Junior must be in the house. “There’s nowhere else for anyone our age to go,” she said, her breath uneven. “What about the dance?” Her eyes flashed to his, causing his excitement to grow. “Come on. Go with me.” He reached for her hand. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around her middle, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. A tingling of suspicion crawled up his spine. “I . . . I can’t.” She blew out a breath. “Gosh, this is harder than I thought.” “What?” When he stepped forward, she held up a hand to stop him, brushing his chest, pushing him away. She turned, her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. A sense of foreboding rushed through his veins, just like it did before the sirens sounded on the ship, signaling the alarm. “I . . . I don’t know how to say this.” “Just spit it out.” His jaw tightened with frustration. What was she holding back? It couldn’t be that bad. She’d greeted him with a kiss. An enthusiastic, tongue tangling kiss. His frustration grew. He took a breath to control his anger. Gently, he grasped her elbows. “What is it, Susanna?” Her eyes darted to the lighted doorway, then back. “I’m engaged.” Shock had him stumbling backwards. “Engaged?” “Yes.”

“To who?” he nearly shouted. She bit her lip. The action normally aroused him. At the moment, his disbelief controlled his emotions. “Sheldon.” “That pup?” “He’s the same size as you.” Bussy had put on a little muscle during his stretch in the Navy, but he’d always been a fighter. “I can take him with one hand tied behind my back.” She smiled, dammit. Smiled. “Maybe you can.” Did that mean she wanted him to? The damned girl was sending him mixed signals. “There’s no maybe to it. Where is he?” He took a step forward. As if the sound of his name conjured him up, Sheldon strode through the doorway of Junior’s house with a beer bottle in his hand. “Susanna?” “Sheldon. Look who’s here.” Her voice sounded anxious and she fidgeted like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Guilty as charged. Her hands had been all over a sinful delicacy only moments ago. “Bussy.” Sheldon gave a nod. Bussy glared his response. In school, Sheldon used to tease and taunt. Dumbass didn’t learn anything? Sheldon better think twice before daring to taunt him again. “You home to stay or on furlough?” His voice didn’t suggest anything other than a normal tone. He’d glanced to Susanna and she acted innocent, giving the impression they were just friends. It pissed him off. “What would you know about it?” “Look.” Sheldon shrugged and stepped beside Susanna. “I know we kinda had a rough go when we were in school, but we’re grown up now.”

Grown up? Just because a body grew bigger in size and aged in years, didn’t necessarily mean anything. “I’m a man now.” Bussy clenched his fists. “When you’ve been where I’ve been, seen what I’ve seen, then you can talk to me about being a man.” Sheldon’s eyes widened. The bastard looked startled. Good. “I didn’t go into service, Bussy, but I can appreciate those who did.” “Appreciate?” Bussy repeated in a low growl. He wanted to punch Sheldon’s lights out. Put his fist through his cocky face. If Sheldon hadn’t learned not to screw with Bussy in school, he’d damn sure learn it now. “Sheldon,” Susanna interrupted. “Would you give me a minute?” Susanna spoke to him, but her pleading eyes were locked on Bussy. Dammit. She knew he wanted to punch her boyfriend. “I’d like to talk to Bussy, alone.” By Sheldon’s expression, he didn’t like the idea. Finally, he gave a nod and trudged down the porch steps. When he strode out of earshot, Susanna let loose. “Do you really think you can just march back into my life after you took off like a bat out of hell?” Bussy’s brows shot up in surprise. “You know what my life was like on that damn farm. You knew that Floozy drove me out of my own home. I had no money, nowhere to go. The Navy offered me a chance at a new life. A chance for us.” “But you’ve been gone so long.” “Susanna. You knew I was coming back for you. Don’t you the last time we were together?” He grasped her shoulders and drew closer. So close he could breathe in her essence. His voice lowered. “Naked and flushed, slick with sweat—”

“Stop.” “Why?” His arms tensed in anger. “You it, too. That night carried me through a lot of lonely nights while confined on a ship, stuck out in the middle of the ocean.” He never thought he’d have to work so hard to get her back into his arms. He never dreamed she would not wait for him. He tightened his grip on her shoulders. “You kissed me just now like, well, like maybe you want to pick up where we left off.” She softened to his touch. She leaned against him, but she kept her head tilted down. Why wouldn’t she meet his gaze? He placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted. Tears pricked her eyes, stabbing his heart. She blinked. “I can’t.” “Why not?” He had a bad feeling. Maybe he shouldn’t be asking, but he had to know. “I just can’t.” Suddenly, what she hadn’t said became very clear. Sheldon. “You chose him,” he thrust out a hand toward the field littered with people, “over what we had?” He would not believe she’d chosen Sheldon. “I know I’ve been gone for a long time, but what we had just doesn’t disappear. I thought we had something special. Something permanent. Something to build on.” Her bottom lip trembled. She was hiding something. “Do you love him?” He barely gave her time to answer when he rushed on. “The way you held me just now, kissed me just now—a woman does not kiss a man like that when she’s in love with someone else.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m pregnant.” His stomach lurched. Jagged pain ripped through his heart. His legs felt weak. He staggered back, gripping the rail at his hips. He tried to ignore the whirlwind blowing through his mind and digest the words she’d mumbled.

The one person in his life with whom he had finally let down his guard. The one person he’d allowed himself to love. His mother never loved him. She left when he was a boy. The witch his father brought into their home was incapable of loving anyone. She ran off his sisters, ran off his brothers. She was pure evil. The old bat hated him. For years, his siblings had been scattered across the countryside, living with other relatives. He was never sure if anyone really wanted him. He’d never had anyone’s love—until Susanna. And now, the harsh realization she didn’t love him either. Christ, what a joke. On him. He thrust his hand through his short-cropped hair. His heart pounded. His lungs felt ready to explode. God, he had to get out of here. “Bussy.” He shook off her hand. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me.” He stormed down the porch steps, leaping them two at a time. Blood pounded his temples. He couldn’t see for the red haze in front of his eyes. Rage? Hurt? Humiliation? He had no idea what emotion he was currently feeling. They all crashed in on him like the torrential waves on the ship’s hull. Somehow he made it to his car. He turned the ignition and slammed the gearshift into first gear. He stomped on the gas, spinning the car sideways. The car rocked and jumped over the ruts and soared onto the dirt-packed lane. Tires squealed as he turned onto the highway. He stared straight ahead at the pavement. Miles and miles of road. He brushed at the moisture leaking from the corner of his eyes. Tears? Hell no! No way in hell would he shed a tear for the faithless slut who had just announced she was having another man’s baby. More pavement. He swung around the curve too fast, his car nearly landing in a ditch. He righted the thing and slammed on the gas again.

His chest hurt. Self-consciously, he rubbed his knuckles over the pain crushing his heart. Love. How could he be so foolish as to think she loved him? No one loved him. No one would ever love him. Susanna. He wanted to die. He just wanted to die. He gripped the steering wheel so hard, his fingers ached. He blinked the road back into focus. He drove blindly. So what if he wrecked? So what if he crashed the car? Who would care? No one. Oh, Dad might miss his vehicle. Dad wouldn’t like his car ending up in the junk heap. One good thing, he’d be free of the battle-axe who’d pretended to be a stepmother. Shit. He thought he had a handle on his growing up years. Running away from the farm and ing the Navy hadn’t cured a blessed thing. And coming home? Looking forward to seeing Susanna was what had kept him sane. He’d begun to believe in happily ever after. And she’d turned out like the rest. God, he hurt. Couldn’t stand the pain. He had to get rid of the pain. Bussy slammed on the brakes when he realized he’d missed the turn off to the farm. Tires squealed and the vehicle slid to a lopsided halt—half on the grass and half on the asphalt. He threw the shifter into reverse. Tires spun and the car bounced, the rubber digging for traction. He spun in a circle before finally heading in the right direction, racing through the gate onto Baldwin land. Ignoring the jar, he bumped over large rocks and bounced in and out of holes as he sped up the lane. When the farmhouse came into view, he floored the gas pedal, anxious to cross the remaining half-mile that would put him in the front yard. Hitting the brakes, he gave the wheel a spin, flinging mud over the hood of the car. He’d just missed the barrier in front and didn’t give a shit as the car slid through the fence enclosing the pasture. He came to a halt in the hay field. Long strides ate up the ground as he made his way to the steps of the front porch. The screen door slammed behind him. An uncontrollable force drove him to the gun rack. He jerked the twelve-gauge from its place on the wall and dug in the drawer for shotgun shells.

Destiny. What a crock. No one controlled his life anymore, but him. No one would dominate him ever again. And if no one could love him, then fuck them. He was going out in style. He marched to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He popped the cap and took a hefty gulp. Milking time. He saw his uncle’s car; he’d be around here somewhere. There’d be one person here to tell goodbye. He grabbed another beer. As he stepped onto the porch, the screen door made another bang behind him. In front of him, the sun rested on the horizon. He stared at the blue and orange and purple streaked sky, the last one he’d ever see. “I’m coming to meet you, Bro.” A sound from his left caught his attention. His uncle stepped out of the springhouse with a jug of cream in his hand. “Hey, Unkie.” Bussy placed his beer on the porch rail and tossed the second one to his uncle. “This is the way you do it!” Bussy raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

***

Bea was numb. The past few days she’d gone through the motions, but her mind had been in a foggy haze. Food had been put in front of her even though she had no desire to eat. Another brother—gone. She stood at the foot of his grave, staring at the fresh overturned earth. Her nose running, her throat raw, the smell of dirt and cow manure punched her senses stronger than usual. She wished the smell was enough to knock her out. She wanted to sleep and wake up from this horrible nightmare. Why? Why had he shot himself? No one knew.

Lute had been her rock. He’d loved Bussy like a brother, too. Her husband had consoled her, shielded her, then took care of the girls so she could grieve in private. “Sis?” Frosty. He hadn’t cried, but she wasn’t sure he’d accepted their youngest brother’s death yet. God knew she didn’t want to acknowledge it. “Are you okay?” “What do you think?” She answered on a sigh. “I can’t believe it.” “None of us can.” She glanced up to see Petey leaning against his car. “Petey is a wreck.” “He keeps saying they were to meet at the dance. He can’t believe Bussy would do something like that.” “I can’t believe it either.” She swiped her face furiously. “After everything he survived with that . . . that . . .” Frosty pulled her into his arms. She’d already cried enough tears to fill a river. But here they came again. Her baby brother. She couldn’t stand it. When she finally calmed, she pulled away. Her fingers clutched her handkerchief into a wrinkled ball. “Are you coming up to the house?” “No.” She hadn’t meant to snap at her brother, but she could not face her father’s wife right now. With the hurt and hate in her heart, it would be best if she stayed away from them both. She turned to walk to the opening in the fence. She felt Frosty’s hand on her arm. “Sis?” “I don’t want to go anywhere near there.”

He gave a nod. Her brother understood.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

1958

Sirens blared and lights flashed as firetrucks rolled down the main street of Stanley. Dad and Floozy had ed Bea and her family to watch the Christmas parade. She loved seeing the excitement in her children’s eyes as they watched the flickering lights on the decorated floats. The sidewalks were crowed, so Bea kept her hands firmly gripped on Salina’s shoulders, which wasn’t easy with the child’s enthusiasm. Expecting to see Santa Claus, she bounced and danced and couldn’t keep still. With Joanne being ten, and Salina six, they were at a good age for the magic to still be alive. When his float arrived, the multitude of people began to shove and push. No longer able to see anything, Bea told Salina to hold on. She followed Lute, weaving in and out of the crowd. Lute found an opening in front of a store. “Here,” Lute said as he pulled them to a wall of glass. “Let’s stop here for a minute and let the mob .” “That’s a good idea.” Bea turned to her daughters and one was missing. “Where’s Salina?” Lute’s eyes flashed wide. “I thought she was with you.” Panic ripped Bea’s chest. “She was in front of me and then people started pushing.” As she spoke her voice rose in volume. “Where is she?” “Calm down,” Lute grasped her shoulders. “She’s here. We’ll find her.” “What’s wrong?” Dad’s voice ed somewhere in the middle of all the chaos. “It’s Salina. She’s gone.”

“There’s a big crowd here.” Damn him. How could he be so calm? Her child was somewhere in this mess, amongst all these people. Her baby. She could be scared. Crying. Oh God, what if someone had taken her? Crazy people did crazy things. She felt Lute’s hands on her shoulders. “Stay here,” Lute said, “in case she shows up. I’ll go find her.” “I’m coming, too.” Bea bent down to her older daughter. “You stay right here with your granddad. Don’t you dare move.” Then she turned to her father. “Dad, I’m leaving Joanne with you. Don’t go anywhere.” “I’ll go up the street.” Lute pointed in the opposite direction. “You go that way.” Bea gave a nod, and, with her heart racing, she took off.

Salina held on to her mother’s skirt, tight. When the big man bumped into her, she clutched Mama’s skirt with both hands. There were so many people, shoving and pushing. She didn’t dare let go. Finally, people didn’t bump her any more. But she didn’t let go of Mama’s skirt. She went into her favorite store. Woolworth’s, the building with the big town clock way up on top. Sometimes Mama would let them look at the toys. And they had fish. She liked to look at the fish. Mama stopped. She tugged on her skirt. Salina looked up. It wasn’t Mama. A woman she didn’t know looked down at her with a frown. “Let go of my dress.” She jerked her skirt and walked away. Salina stood there, surprised. Then she spun around. She’d never seen so many people. Where was Mama? And Daddy? And Joanne? This was Mama’s favorite store, so maybe she was in here. Salina walked down the aisle past the candy shelf and the glass window with the chocolate fudge. Her sister liked chocolate, but Salina only liked vanilla. Actually, the only candy she liked was bubble gum. She could blow some big bubbles.

She continued on her way to the back of the store, going down one aisle and then the next. She couldn’t find Mama. Maybe she could look at the fish. Just for a little while. The tanks were big and had lots of fish. The goldfish were big. Her sister liked the little white ones. Salina thought they were guppies. They had some at home. She ed one day her sister cried because the mama fish was eating their babies. Yuk. Salina shrugged her shoulders and headed to the toys. She spotted a long counter with different sections that had small toys. She strolled past the glass shelves. She wanted to touch one, but Mama wouldn’t like that. Dad told her, “if it isn’t yours, don’t touch it.” So she kept her fingers to herself. Where was Mama anyway? Maybe she wasn’t in here. Salina decided to walk back to the front of the store. With still no sign of her family, she pushed open the heavy door and stepped outside. There stood her sister and Granddaddy. “You’re in trouble,” Joanne said. “Why? Where’s Mama?” “Looking for you. She’s all upset. And Daddy is mad.” Salina’s lower lip trembled. “I didn’t do nothing.” “You got lost. Mama and Daddy are looking for you.” “There you are.” Granddaddy patted her on the shoulder. “Now don’t cry. All is well.” Suddenly, she was lifted into the air. “Where have you been?” Mama squished her. “Hi Mama. I went into the store. I thought you were in there.” “Are you all right? You scared me to death.”

“You found her.” Salina looked into her Daddy’s face and trembled with fear. Was he going to spank her? “Daddy, I was looking for you. I didn’t do nothing bad.” “Of course you didn’t. You were lost. We were worried. Where were you?” “I held on to Mama’s skirt. But it wasn’t Mama. It was some woman. It wasn’t Mama.” Her daddy and mama looked at each other. “I went into Mama’s store.” “Mama’s store?” Daddy asked. Salina wiggled to get down. “In there.” She pointed to Woolworth’s to show Daddy. “I saw the fish and I looked at some toys, but I didn’t touch them. I promise.” “You did good, sweetheart. Were you scared?” “No. Not till I came outside.” “Outside?” Mama’s voice sounded funny. She squeaked like a mouse. “I found Joanne and Granddaddy and . . . right here.” “Thank God.” Daddy blinked. “You’re all right?” “I’m fine, Daddy.” She smiled knowing he wasn’t mad at her. “Here.” Granddaddy spoke behind her. “Here’s a quarter for each of you girls. You can get you something.” “Jeremiah. Don’t give them thaaat. I was gonna get them something for Christmas.” Grandma.

Sometimes she didn’t seem very nice. And now she didn’t want Granddaddy to give them any money. She wouldn’t let go of his arm. Granddaddy put the money back in his pocket. Darn.

***

1964

Lute was home sick in bed. The day happened to be too pretty to remain at the house, so Bea took her girls to see their grandfather. Time sure had a way of ing. Guess she didn’t notice how fast, because she spent most of her time working. Her oldest daughter was a teenager; she already had a boyfriend, and they liked to ride their bicycles together. The girl wanted to stay home, but Bea told her she could see her boyfriend when she got back. Bea ignored her daughter’s pouty face and told her to get in the car. Streaks of sunlight blazed through the breaks between the trees like shards of gleaming glass. Bea drove along the mountain roads with the summer breeze blowing in through the car window. The closer they got to the mountains, the cooler the air grew. Lute wanted her to be careful when she took the car up the farm lane. Rut holes and big rocks lined the dirt road. He’d help her father scrape and shovel and fill in those holes, but the rain would just turn around and undo a lot of the work they’d already done. She caught her tongue between her teeth and hoped she wouldn’t bite it off when the car dipped into the next hole. “Look, Mom. Up there.” Salina pointed to the top of a hill. “Deer. Can we stop?” Bea pulled the car over onto the grass. Both girls quickly jumped out of the car. “Shut the door easy,” she said.

“They’re clear on the hill,” Joanne spoke back in exasperation. “Even so, sound travels. You don’t want to scare them.” “My sister running like an Indian ought to do that.” Bea climbed out of the car and followed the girls through the pasture, up the hill toward the tree line. Salina and Joanne hunkered behind a tree and watched the deer grazing in the next meadow. Crouched like a thief, Salina took small steps, trying to sneak up on them. A deer raised its head and stilled. He’d seen her or sensed their presence. The other three deer jerked to attention and suddenly took off like a shot. They raced over the field and leaped across a fence with their tails aimed to the sky. “Wow. I never get to see deer. That was neat.” Glancing at her daughter, Bea realized that she had seen deer nearly every day while living on the farm and she’d taken the animals for granted. She and her brothers ran through the woods as part of their growing up. They’d seen all sorts of wildlife and never thought anything about it. But her girls lived in the city. They’d had a dog, for a while. Then when Lute moved them to their new house, they couldn’t take the dog with them. People in the city limits didn’t like dogs or noise. So Lute left Patches with his sister on her farm. The girls hadn’t liked it, but they made regular visits. Salina and Joanne wandered up the hill and disappeared. By the time Bea climbed to the top, she found the girls eating apples. “Look, Mom. An apple tree.” Salina bit into one, the crunching sound making Bea think she might get one of her own. “Can you make a pie?” Joanne asked. “These are green apples. Green apples don’t taste sweet.” As if to prove her correct, Joanne’s face scrunched up. “Ewww. That’s bitter.” “I like them.” Salina tossed a core on the ground and picked up another apple. “You’re going to have a bellyache if you keep eating those.”

She seemed to think better of the idea and dropped it. When she jumped up and grabbed a limb, Bea knew what the girl had in mind. Salina loved to climb trees and spent a lot of time in the cherry tree at their house. Salina was a tomboy. And she had on a dress. “Salina. Don’t ruin your clothes.” “If I was going to climb this tree, I’d already be up there. Climbing’s no good in a dress.” “Come on. Let’s head on up to the house.” Her younger daughter dropped to the ground and the three walked together, making their way back to the car. As they started down the hill, Salina saw her granddad’s car. “Look. There goes Granddad. He’s leaving.” “Dad,” Bea shouted. Then so did her girls. Salina took off running. Then Joanne. Each calling and shouting, trying to get his attention. They were too far away. Unless he looked in their direction, he wouldn’t see them. Salina ran like the deer they’d just seen leaping over the fence line. Running full throttle like the devil chased her, she reminded Bea of her brothers, a long time ago. Salina had gone halfway down the hill, when suddenly, she fell. Good grief. “Are you hurt?” Bea called as she hurried forward. Salina jumped up spitting. Joanne stood next to her laughing. “Don’t laugh at your sister. She could be hurt.” Out of breath, Bea placed a hand over her aching side. “She fell in cow poop.” Joanne doubled over, cackling like a hyena. “Gross.” Spit. Spit. “I’m gonna die.” She flailed her arms and danced around

like her feet were on fire. “Calm down. You’re not going to die.” Joanne laughed louder. “My sister ate poop.” “It was a dried up cow patty.” Thank God. Bea would hate to see her reaction if it had been fresh. “And she didn’t eat it.” “It’s still poop. She landed her face smack in it.” “Shut up.” Salina yelled. Joanne hooted. “Mom. Do I have it on my face?” “Let me see.” As she studied her daughter’s face, she held back a chuckle. “No. You’ve brushed it all off.” Salina glared. “Yuk. I hope it was dirt.” Bea turned to hide her grin.

***

Highland County had been making maple syrup for years. The community had a celebration where farmers brought their syrup and women showed off their baking goods and quilts. Once word got out, the county celebrated by having festivals every second and third week in March. Sugar camps opened to the public. Clubs and organizations set up booths in town. People came from out of state and from clear across the country. Jeremiah plowed his buckwheat fields and provided the buckwheat for pancakes, which also became popular. He and several of the county had started a Ruritan Club many years ago, which took over the old school house. The club opened on those weekends serving all day breakfast of buckwheat, or regular

pancakes, sausage and lots of maple syrup. Today, Bea and her family were at the grounds of the maple festival. “Hey, Mama, can we go to Uncle Ott’s and go in the woods and gather the buckets again?” Bea glanced down to Salina. Both of her girls loved visiting Lute’s sisters. They all had farms with lots of animals. And once they found out Ott had maple trees on his farm and sugar cakes were made from those trees, Salina kept wanting to collect the maple water. “You liked that, did you?” “Sure. We got to ride in the wagon and we got to dump the buckets.” “The best part was Aunt Zannie making sugar cakes,” Joanne added. “Yum. She cooked the water a long time and made syrup. And my favorite, Klinkers.” Klinkers were chewy like gum. Zannie boiled the syrup until it got sort of thick, then she took a spoonful and dropped it into a cup of cold water. A clump would form and that was a Klinker. Salina loved them. “Then we had to pour the syrup into these little pans for the sugar cakes.” Salina shaped her hands as she explaining the process. “Those things are hard.” Joanne rubbed her teeth. “I don’t want you girls to break your teeth, that’s why I use a knife and cut them into chunks.” “Can we get some today?” Salina loved sugar cakes, too. If Bea didn’t keep an eye on her, she’d eat them all at one time. “They have the little ones that are shaped like a leaf.” Joanne made a circle with her fingers imitating their size. “They’re softer.” “Daddy? Can we have some?” Lute glanced at Bea, then back to Salina. “I think you better ask your mom.”

“Please, Mom?” “We’ll go look after we eat.” “Oh, boy. Pancakes.” They stood in a long line, then Bea’s father greeted them at the doorway to the cafeteria. He’d brought his buckwheat down to the schoolhouse yesterday and came back at dawn this morning to cook. “Hi, Dad.” “Glad you all came. Hi, girls. Are you ready for some pancakes?” “Yes,” both answered. “Well, come on.” Bea’s heart warmed at the affection her dad showed his grandchildren. She’d not seen that in their home while growing up. As for Floozy, time would tell. But so far, the girls didn’t spend much time around her. Children had good instincts. Before no time, Lute, Bea and the girls were seated at a long table with several other hungry people. Lute sipped his coffee while the girls drowned their pancakes in maple syrup. Floozy cooked in the kitchen. Bea had labeled the woman by that name for so long it just stuck and she didn’t think it would ever change. Dad went from table to table, greeting visitors and making conversation. And if anyone wanted more pancakes, he brought more. Several ladies served coffee or tea, more butter or more syrup. Salina handed her sausage to Lute. “You can have this, Daddy. I’m making room for more pancakes.”

Chapter Thirty

1968

Purple lilies and yellow spider chrysanthemums filled the front of the church with lighted candles standing in arched candelabras. Garland hung on the edge of the pews filled with family and friends. Bea ed her own wedding twenty-two years ago. So very different. A picture entered her mind of her and Lute standing in front of the old model car. His foot rested upon the runner-board as they posed, her back to his front with his arms around her middle. He was in his fine suit, and she wore a dress with a matching suit-jacket, a corsage on her left lapel. Only the immediately family had attended. For the past three months, Bea helped Joanne plan every detail of her wedding. She’d ed florists, arranged for bouquets for the bridesmaids as well as boutonnieres for the men. She’d found a wonderful woman to bake the cake at a reasonable price. Fortunately, Lute’s job provided enough, where she’d been able to put a little away, saving for their daughter’s wedding. Joanne found a white, floor-length gown with lots of lace and a mid-length veil. She wanted her best friend to be a bridesmaid and she’d asked her sister to be the maid of honor. Bea had saved money by making the bridesmaids’ dresses. She’d purchased a light blue silk material for the lining chemise and an open lace for the dress covering. The gowns were perfect. That reminded her, she’d better check on the girls and see how they were coming along. A room downstairs had been available for the bride’s party. When Bea stepped inside, the girls were hustling and bustling, getting ready for the big event. Phyllis, the bridesmaid, stood behind Joanne arranging her veil. Bea caught her daughter’s gaze in the mirror.

“Are you nervous?” “No, Mom.” Joanne tugged at her veil. “Well, I am.” Salina paced the floor. “You’re the maid of honor,” Phyllis pointed out. “Why are you nervous?” Salina stopped and scowled. “I have to stand in the front of the church. In front of all those people.” “So do we.” Phyllis was a pleasant girl and Joanne’s best friend. Her delightful personality was just what they needed to get them through the ceremony. Joanne turned from the mirror. A vision of white flowed like a cloud, from the top of her head to the floor. She smiled, then she spotted her sister pacing, again. “Stop shaking. The petals are falling off your flowers.” Salina glanced down. A puddle of yellow and purple littered the floor. “My goodness. The flowers are falling off.” Bea hurried over to examine Salina’s bouquet. “There’s something wrong with them.” “There’s nothing wrong, Mom. She just needs to stop ruining my flowers.” Bea grabbed a tissue and wiped at the mess. Phyllis crouched down beside her. “Let me do that, for you. You’re the bride’s mother. Don’t worry about the flowers. Or Salina. We’ll be fine.” She gave Bea an encouraging pat on the arm. “Thank you, Phyllis.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s time. I’ll see you girls upstairs.” She ed her husband, who’d been standing just outside the door. “How handsome you look in your monkey suit.” She leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Those girls ready yet? It’s time to go up.” “Yes. Joanne just put on her veil. Can you believe it, Daddy?”

“She’s my oldest. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for my youngest.” Bea patted his lapel. “Let’s just hope it’s a long time away.” She ascended the stairs and proceeded to the church doors leading to the sanctuary. The groom’s brother took Bea’s hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. She held her head high as he escorted her down the aisle, then seated her in her place of honor as the bride’s mother. The church looked beautiful decorated with colorful flowers and flowing ribbons. A beautiful setting for a wedding. Whispers echoed off the high, whitewashed walls from the guests eagerly awaiting the ceremony. The organist sat at the organ in front, playing an assortment of pleasing music. A few minutes later, the minister, the groom and his groomsmen took their places at the front. The organ blared louder and the Wedding March began. The minister gave a nod and Bea stood. A rustling sound followed as the congregation rose for the appearance of the bride. Bea’s first tear fell when she turned to see her daughter on her husband’s arm, walking down the aisle. She clutched the handkerchief in her hand. Soon, Lute ed her on the bench and squeezed her hand. The minister spoke, vows were made, and the rings exchanged. The ceremony was over. Bea stared at the crumpled linen in her hand. Lute took her by the arm and escorted her to the reception hall. A three-tiered cake stood on a table at the front, with another table to the right holding a fountain and punch bowl. Lucy and one of Lute’s sisters stood behind the tables ready to serve cake and punch. Guests drifted in from the sanctuary and mingled while the bridal party took photos. She told the photographer not to be long. Lute didn’t like standing around waiting while food had been plonked in front of hungry guests. Bea flitted from guest to guest making small talk and thanking them for coming. It seemed a matter of moments before the wedding party entered the reception hall. Bea saw Salina on the far side of the room, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She’d been so nervous before the ceremony; now she just looked bored. “You’re looking better,” she told her daughter.

“Thank goodness that’s over.” Lute chuckled. “What’s the matter?” “I’ve never been so nervous in my life.” “I can’t believe that. You’re a majorette and first chair flute. You perform in front of people on many occasions.” “That’s different.” “How is it different?” Salina gave her father a brooding look. “I’m performing with other people in a concert.” “You’ve done solo on the field as a majorette. In front of an entire stadium of people, I might add.” “It’s still different. There, I’m comfortable. I enjoy what I’m doing.” “You didn’t enjoy yourself today?” “Standing in front of the church while my sister preens before her new husband? In front of the world?” “I’m sure all eyes were on your sister,” Bea added. “Don’t you want all of this whoop-de-do when it’s your turn?” Lute asked. Salina’s eyes opened wide. “Gosh no! I’d never make it down the aisle. I barely did this time.” “We’ll see,” Bea said to appease her. “No we won’t see. I’m eloping.” “Salina,” Joanne called as she approached. “Where’s your bouquet?” “On the table.” Salina turned slightly, pointing to the white-covered table behind her. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

Through the open space between then, Bea saw a clump of yellow with limp stems of purple. A sagging cluster, not even resembling a bouquet, made for the maid of honor. She was horrified. “The flowers are wilted.” She lifted the scraggly bundle. “There’s barely any left. I’m calling the florist. They’ve given us a bunch of bad flowers.” Joanne laughed. “I didn’t have to worry about getting lost. All I had to do was follow the trail of yellow petals. Salina shook so hard, she shook them to pieces.” “She couldn’t have been shaking that bad,” Lute said. Of the two girls, Salina had always been the feisty one. Tough, spirited and outgoing. Bea couldn’t imagine the girl being afraid of anything. Evidently being maid of honor at her sister’s wedding tested her limits.

***

Salina didn’t elope, but she had a small wedding. Immediate family only. The girl married a soldier and had been on the go ever since, moving from one state to another and even out of the country. Bea sure missed her.

Chapter Thirty-One

1975

Once Bea suggested the idea to her sister, Lucy took over arranging everything. Salina’s husband had been stationed overseas, so she moved with him and now they lived in . She’d been trying to get Bea to fly over for a visit. She mentioned a trip to Lucy and, the next thing Bea knew, they had plane tickets. She wasn’t sure who was more excited. Lucy scheduled the first available flight. While Bea tried to let the thought of flying sink in, Lucy packed her bags. Just that morning, Bea had driven to Lucy’s house to pick her up and take them to the airport. She liked having her sister close. Lucy had renewed her acquaintance with Bussy’s childhood friend, Petey. They married and Lucy moved back to Virginia. Bea recalled the scene at Lucy’s house. When Petey opened the door to let her in, a loud thump drew their attention to the stairs. “Where are you going?” Petey asked Lucy. “I’m going to to see my niece.” “Is that today?” “Yes, that’s today.” “Well, no wonder you been upstairs primping.” He turned back to Bea. “Come on in. Looks like she’s ready.” “Hi, Petey. She did tell you, didn’t she?” “Aww, hell. I reckon. You got time to sit a spell?”

“No.” Lucy answered as she continued down the steps with another thump. “Here. Give me that thing before you fall and break your neck.” He lifted the suitcase and carried it outside. “Are you ready?” Stupid question when her sister had just sent her suitcase to the car. Bea’s anxiousness was overriding her brain. “I’m ready.” As Lucy put on her coat, Petey stomped back inside. “Damn, it’s cold out there.” He rubbed his hands together. “Where’s your coat?” Lucy asked him. “What do I need a coat for? I ain’t going nowhere.” Lucy shook her head. “Give me a kiss.” Petey dutifully obeyed. “I’ll see you when I get back.” “How long are you going to be gone?” “A week. Nine days,” she answered as she opened the door. “All right. Have a good time. See ya, Bea.” He plopped back in his recliner, to all appearances, without a care in the world. Lucy and Petey seemed happy enough. But, those two sure had a strange way of communicating. Forty minutes later, she and Lucy checked in at the airport and, now, here she was in a huge plane flying to Europe. She couldn’t believe it. Her nerves finally caught up with the rest of her and she fell asleep. Bea woke sometime later, having no idea how long she’d slept. Sounds of moaning resounded in her ears, and an awful stench filled the air. She forced her eyes open. Lucy leaned forward in her aisle seat, her hand covering her mouth. “What’s going on?” Lucy glanced at Bea, revulsion glimmered in her eyes. “Go back to sleep.”

Bea sat up. “What’s all that noise? My God, it stinks.” “It’s vomit. People are sick.” Bea gasped in horror and quickly wished she hadn’t. The motion caused her to inhale a lung full of the foul smell. Add that with the moaning, she almost gagged. She placed one hand over her nose and rummaged through her purse, looking for a handkerchief, anything that might help. Finding the white linen, she slapped it over her face, praying for her stomach to settle.

***

The military post turned out to be one of import. Family housing for service had been provided off base. Salina and her husband lived in a threebedroom apartment, complete with a living room, dining room, and good sized kitchen. The bathroom had been large enough to place a washing machine in it. But seeing the German houses fascinated Bea. The structures were very different, with their stone and wooden slats design. Reginald, Salina’s husband, gave them a tour on base. They weren’t allowed to take pictures, but she got to see big trucks, tanks, and Cobra helicopters. Then he drove to the commissary. Salina said she stocked up on groceries once a month, since that’s when they got paid. The next day they toured the small towns with their tiny streets barely big enough for two vehicles to one another. Then Reginald drove them to the big city of Frankfurt. On the drive they did some sightseeing, and actually got to see a few castles. The Rhine River was a popular attraction for tourists. It flows through for over three hundred miles. Reginald drove the road running alongside the canal so they could glimpse the river. Flowers in a rainbow of colors were everywhere she looked. Reginald pointed out what were called guest houses, which were not at all what she had expected. Evidently a guest house in happened to be the equivalent of a bar or tavern.

He stopped in one of the little towns so the girls could explore. Many shops lined the street with lots of delicacies—such as cakes, chocolates, every sweet imaginable—displayed in their windows. In the middle of shopping, Reginald suggested one of the little guest spots. The building was made of stone and had open windows, with several tables out front for customers. When Bea saw the wine list, she gasped. One bottle of wine cost over three hundred marks, German money. Needless to say, they didn’t buy any. When they returned home, Bea sorted her purchases at the dining room table, being careful with her crystal stemware. When she had seen the beautiful colors and the delicate cut on the sides of the votive cups, she just had to have them. The thought of how to get the set home without breaking had never crossed her mind—until now. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll use plenty of packing and wrap them up nice so they won’t break. If something happens and they do, I’ll bring you another set.” The military packed the possessions of service personnel when the soldiers and their families moved from one duty station to another. So far, Salina’s belongings had arrived intact at each new destination. “Let’s hope these get home safe,” Bea said. “Don’t put them in your luggage.” Reginald stepped from the kitchen with a bottle of beer in his hand. “That’s just asking for trouble.” “We’ll box it up and take it to the base post office,” Salina assured her. “That sounds like a good idea.” Bea wrapped her crystal back in the same paper the store had used, then carried the package to her room. When she came back out, Lucy sat on the floor playing with Salina’s three-year-old son, Davy. Bea blinked. “What are you wearing?” “Reginald calls it his dress greens. Pretty spiffy, huh?” Lucy had on a dark green dress coat with honor ribbons on the left breast and gold stripes on the sleeves. Bea glanced to Reginald. He shrugged and smiled. Then she glanced at the army

trucks and miniature soldiers lined up for attack on the floor. “Who’s winning?” “We are,” Lucy said. “We’re on the same team.” “Ant Lucy, watch this.” David made a noise like a motor engine while driving his tank over the trucks. Lucy took an army man and bounced him around the floor with another truck chasing him. Watching the two made Bea smile. Lucy seemed right at home. Pity she never had children of her own. Bea slipped to the kitchen. “Can I help with supper?” “Why don’t you go play with the kids.” Salina’s innuendo wasn’t lost on her. “Lucy seems to have everything under control.” Salina laughed. “What are we having?” “Thought I’d broil these steaks. You want baked potatoes or mashed?” “Everyone likes mashed potatoes. I’ll peel the potatoes.” Bea took a knife from the drawer while Salina grabbed a roasting pan from the cabinet. “How would you ladies like to go to the NCO Club after we eat?” Reginald had come into the kitchen behind them. “What’s that?” “It’s like a bar.” He leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “A building on base for the service guys to relax and have a drink. You ladies might meet some of the men I work with.” “I’m game,” Lucy called from the living room. “If it has alcohol, do they allow children?” “No. Sergeant Major lives across the hall. His daughter will babysit.”

“Then I say let’s go.” After dinner, they loaded up and Reginald took them to the NCO Club. It was a big room with lots of round tables scattered about. Several long ones lined one side, she supposed for large groups. To the front, she saw a wall of shelves with bottles, making her wonder about the amount of liquor kept in this place. Lights hung from the ceiling, their glow soft enough not to cause a glare, but bright enough to see her surroundings clearly. “What’s your poison, ladies?” “You know I want Kahlua. Something sweet for Mom. I don’t know if she’s ever had anything stronger to drink than Coca-Cola.” “I’ll have a bourbon and Coke.” Lucy gave her order while she gazed about the room. “Hey, Regge. Thought you were on leave.” Bea turned to see a man as tall as Reginald. “I took some time off to be with Salina’s family.” “Hello, Salina.” “Hi, Scott.” “And who are these lovely ladies?” “I’m Lucy.” With a huge grin plastered on her face, Lucy held out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” Scott took Lucy’s hand and made a grand show of lifting it to his mouth for a kiss. When he turned to Bea, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m Salina’s mother.” “And a very beautiful one at that.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. A tiny thrill of enjoyment made her smile. Reginald had some classy friends. “Don’t pay any attention to Casanova, here.” Reginald slapped Scott on the

back. “May I buy you ladies a drink?” Scott continued with the charm. Bea reached for her pocketbook and Salina covered her hand. “Let him. The drinks are really cheap because this is a military club. And we’re in . It costs next to nothing,” she whispered. “Would you like one of those fancy cocktails with a tiny umbrella?” Scott flirted with them. Bea and Lucy were probably his mother’s age. “What’s in them?” Lucy asked. “Tell me what you like. Rum. Vodka.” “Bourbon.” “Ah, a woman after my heart. Let’s see. There’s Whiskey Sour, Mint Julep, Old Fashioned—” “Old Fashion what?” “That’s the name of the drink. Old Fashioned. It has a sugar cube, club soda, a dash of something in the bourbon.” He used his fingers to demonstrate the dash. “And, of course, my favorite drink, Jim Beam and Coke.” “I think I’ll try the Old one.” “Old Fashioned, it is.” He turned his gaze to Bea. “How about you? You impress me as one who would like a rum sort of drink.” “Do they have Tahicky? My brother lives in Fort Worth, Texas. We went to Mexico and that drink is popular there.” He frowned. “Say the name again.” “No, please don’t.” Salina laughed. “She’ll butcher it, again.” Scott raised his brows in question. “What is she trying to say?”

“Tequila.” Everyone at the table laughed. Bea felt the heat in her cheeks. Well, she didn’t drink so how was she supposed to know the correct pronunciation of cocktails? “Do you want tequila?” Scott asked Bea. “Lord, no,” Salina answered. “You’d have to carry my mother out of here.” “Don’t you worry, Salina’s mama.” Scott patted Bea’s hand. “I’ll get you a nice daiquiri made with rum.” “Don’t forget the umbrellas,” Lucy added. Scott gave them a two finger salute, then turned and strode to the bar. In no time, he returned with two fancy drinks. “Hey, Regge.” “Hi, Mac. Sergeant Prater.” After greeting the men, Reginald turned to the table. “This is my First Sergeant, and this is Mac. Meet my mother-in-law, Bea, and her sister, Lucy.” “Pleasure to meet you.” Sergeant Prater spoke low to Reginald, but Bea heard him. “Mother-in-law, huh? How’s that working out?” She bristled. Her son-in-law liked her. “I’m from Virginia, too.” The man called Mac, drew her attention. “Sure is nice to see someone from Virginia.” “Where are you from in Virginia?” Lucy asked. Mac pulled out the chair beside of Lucy and sat down. “Hot Springs.” “Well, you’re just a hop and a jump from me.” “Really?” “Yes. I live in Deerfield.”

“Wow. Wait till I write my mom. She worries about me being over here. But since I met Salina and Regge, she doesn’t have to worry anymore.” His statement caught Bea’s interest. “Really? Why’s that?” “Aw, heck. They’ve practically adopted me. I’m at their place all the time. Salina’s a great cook. A lot of the single guys hang out at their place. Salina and Regge are like family. Even though she’s the same age, she’s like our mom.” “That’s true,” Salina agreed. “A lot of the single guys are lonely. On payday, they go out, drink, party, date the German girls. Then on Sunday, or any weekend that isn’t payday, they come to our place. We’re like one big family.” Just then, Scott returned with their drinks. He placed a glass with brown liquid in front of Lucy, and as promised, a little umbrella hung balanced to the side. “Miss Lucy, an Old Fashioned.” He gave her a big smile as he gave the umbrella a spin. “And for Salina’s mama, a Strawberry Daiquiri.” “I like strawberries.” Scott pulled out a chair and sat between Bea and Lucy. “Thank you, Scott.” “Enjoy, ladies.” “Don’t know what I’d do without Regge and Salina.” Mac picked up with the subject he had been speaking of before. “You guys are gone on maneuvers so much, you need a place to call home.” Salina glanced to both men as she spoke. “Yeah, this past year we spent close to ten months in the field. Sometimes Regge held me back to keep an eye on Salina and Davy.” “Lucky dog,” Scott mumbled just before he put his glass to his lips. “Good thing I’m not shy. I see my neighbors more than I see my husband. All the wives are in the same boat.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat called a halt to their conversation. Mac jumped from his seat. “Hello, First Sergeant.” Mac looked like he would be sick. “What are you doing in the NCO Club?” Uh oh. Whoever the man was, he didn’t look too happy to see Mac. “Specialist McComb received orders for AJ.” Reginald stepped in to answer. Lucy leaned toward Scott. “What’s AJ?” “Acting Sergeant. His rank is E5 now. So he gets to play with the sergeants, and he’s allowed to come into the NCO Club.” “Not everyone can come in here?” “Nope. E5 and above. Then there’s the officers—Captains, Lieutenants, Majors. They go to the Officers Club.” “This is Headquarters Company First Sergeant Watkins. My mother-in-law, Bea, and her sister, Lucy.” Bea wondered how many times Reginald would say that this evening. Lucy took a sip of her drink and played with her umbrella. “You like it?” Scott asked. “Yes, it’s good.” He turned to Bea. “How do you like yours?” “It’s very good. I approve.” “Thank you, ma’am.” “Don’t call me ma’am. Just Bea will do.” Lucy studied Sergeant Watkins while he conversed with Reginald. “I get the impression these are some high ranking men.”

“Higher than us.” “What’s your rank?” “Same as Regge. Staff Sergeant.” Scott crossed a boot over his knee and leaned back in his chair looking very comfortable. “Well, look who’s here. Chief.” “Where?” Reginald jerked his gaze to Scott. “Headed straight for us.” Scott lifted his glass pointing to a man coming toward their table. “His wife is French,” Salina said. “She is so nice. She gave me a statue made in .” “The movers will have fun shipping that when you go home,” Scott mumbled. “Why?” Bea asked. “It’s made of stone.” Good grief. Bea glared at Salina. “Where is it?” “You’ve seen it. In the corner with the palm coming out of Cupid’s head.” “That?” Bea visualized the brown, four-foot statue in the corner of Salina’s living room. “Why, it’s so pretty. I never realized it was real stone. It must weigh a ton.” “Yep.” Scott nodded. “I helped carry it up three flights of stairs.” Uh oh. Introductions again. The man Scott mentioned stood beside Reginald. He called him Chief, but treated him as a man of importance. “Chief is a CW4, Warrant Officer. He’s between a noncommissioned officer and an officer. “That’s clear as mud,” Lucy mumbled. She and Scott seemed to be getting mighty chummy. She took a sip of her drink through the little straw. Bea kept her smile aimed at Chief while he spoke with Reginald and tried

speaking out of the side of her mouth. “I don’t know much about drinking, but even I know you don’t sip alcohol through a straw.” “For heaven’s sake, Bea. The straw isn’t any bigger than a gnat.” Bea lifted her chin and ignored her sister. Everyone knew if you drank alcohol through a straw, you got drunk. “So,” Lucy leaned closer to Scott. “He seems mighty impressive. Who does he rank with?” Scott took a sip of his drink before he answered. “God.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

1981

A blue sky graced the day with a few white clouds so sheer they appeared almost nonexistent. The trees had lost their leaves indicating autumn was upon them. The air cold, the wind gentle, a good day for working outside. Jeremiah needed wood for the winter. So Bea had gathered her children and they were making the day a family outing. Her children. She took pride in her girls. And now she had grandchildren. Her daughter, Joanne, married a mechanic, had a son, and lives in Stanley. Her daughter Salina, married a military man, and has two sons. After traveling the United States and abroad, she moved to the county outside of Stanley. The men had been willing to help cut wood and the boys loved roaming around on the big farm. Just like Bea and her siblings roamed these woods in her younger days. Lute tried to get Jeremiah to relax and let the men do the work but, of course, he would have no part of that. He’d worked all his life. If something needed done, he was there to do it, not stand by and watch while others did what he could do. The men used chain saws to fell the trees and axes to sever the limbs. The women helped clear the branches, stack wood, and worked just as hard. The grandchildren carried wood and Jeremiah loved having them around. When time came for a midday meal, Bea and her girls went up to the house. She’d made her peace with Floozy a long time ago. As an adult, she realized her life was her own. The woman she’d hated in the past could no longer hurt her. Dad had married Floozy, so Bea accepted his new wife belonged in his home. When she stepped into the house, the warmth from the wood stove enfolded her. Her cold cheeks stung from the sudden heat. Ripping off her gloves, she held her fingers above the stove. Salina stomped her feet on the mat outside, then rushed in.

“Man, it feels good in here.” She took off her coat and hung it on a peg by the door. “My nose is running.” Joanne swiped her arm over her face. “You better run and catch it.” Joanne turned to her sister, giving her a deadpan look. “Ha. Ha.” Bea found Floozy in the kitchen. “We came in to help with the meal.” “I need to go to the cellar.” Floozy lifted her coat from the peg on the wall— right beside the wooden slat where Bea had slammed Floozy’s head. She wondered if Floozy thought of that incident any more. If maybe every time she stepped through this doorway—. “Mom?” Salina stood there, pulling on her coat. “You okay?” Bea jumped. “Yes. I was just thinking.” “I’ll go with her.” She nodded toward Floozy. Floozy—yep the name stuck. Guess it always would. Salina didn’t like Floozy for a long time. Said she wasn’t nice to kids. Yet when Salina grew up, she got over it and treated the woman like anyone else. Her daughter had a friendly personality and never met a stranger. She made friends easily. Bea wondered if traveling so much in the military had made her that way. They came back with two jars of tenderloin and a mess of potatoes. While Salina opened the jars, Bea and Joanne peeled potatoes. Floozy kept the kitchen wood stove going. She stuck an iron handle in the groove, lifted the circle of iron, and threw large sticks into the fire. Been a while since Bea had done that. Made her appreciate the electric appliance she had in her home. One thing she could say about Floozy though, she was a good cook. Joanne loved her potato salad. Floozy used a cooked dressing. Joanne asked her for the recipe. “Well, you take some eggs and cook ‘em.”

“How many eggs?” “Oh, bout three or so.” Joanne turned to her sister with a knife in one hand and a potato in the other. “Write this down.” Salina grabbed a paper and pencil from the hutch. Floozy cracked three eggs over a pan on the stove. She picked up a dish of butter and scooped out a hefty lump. “You add butter?” Joanne asked. Floozy nodded as she set the dish to the side. “How much butter?” Salina rolled her eyes. “About that much.” Joanne ignored her sister. “A chunk,” Floozy answered. “How much is a chunk?” Joanne grilled the woman with a dozen questions. “I guess bout the size of an egg.” “You realize, sister dear, she’s using real butter,” Salina explained to Joanne. “As in country . . . milk from a cow . . .” “Just write it down.” “Okay.” Salina held her pen over the pad ready to write. Joanne turned back to Floozy. “What’s next?” Floozy reached in the cupboard and retrieved a jug. “Add some sugar. And a pinch of salt.” “Here we go,” Salina mumbled. Joanne went on as if she hadn’t heard Salina. “Where are your measuring spoons?”

“Don’t need any.” “You don’t use measuring spoons?” Floozy shook her head. “Nope. I just scoop it up and put it in the pan.” “A pinch of this. A dash of that. And a hunk of butter.” Salina wiggled her eyebrows at her sister. “You know, a pinch.” Bea smiled at the comical way Salina made fun. Joanne disregarded her and charged on as if she were a soldier hell bent on a vital mission. Often, her daughter could be so tenacious on a matter, she’d refuse to see anything else. “How much salt? Can you show me?” Bea and Salina both laughed as Floozy dipped her fingers into the salt jar and sprinkled the grains into the pan. Salina leaned over Bea’s shoulder and whispered close to her ear. “It will be a miracle if we don’t kill each other after the hundred trials it will take to get this recipe right.”

***

1990

With only Dad and Floozy left, Bea guessed Floozy didn’t have anyone to aggravate and needed more attention. Dad took Floozy shopping; she liked flaunting her new blouse or skirt. He took her to see her sister, quite often, and once in a while they took a trip. Still it wasn’t enough. Floozy took to having fits of a different kind. She didn’t want Dad working the fields, she wanting him to stay with her. She demanded his constant attention, often yelling and insisting she was in pain. Scared for her health, he called the

rescue squad. After several trips across the mountain to the hospital, caregivers decided she needed to be in a nursing home. Of course, Floozy fought that idea. Dad gave in to her whims and the manifestation continued. When she started falling around, Dad agonized with worry. The last trip to the hospital, he was not given a choice. The doctor itted Floozy to a nursing home. Bea suspected Floozy’s plan backfired. Demanding every minute of Jeremiah’s attention, then having fits to get her way, did not go as planned. Bea surmised the woman had not expected her piteous attempts for empathy would land her in a home. Dad drove the mountain every day to visit his wife. On this particular day, Bea went with him. “Flooz . . .,” Bea caught herself. “Flossy, how are you feeling?” The woman turned her head away. “Can I get you anything?” No answer. “I brought you some personal things. Some perfumed powder.” Bea held up the container with the powderpuff balanced on top, tied with a pretty purple ribbon. Floozy liked purple. Bea thought the lavender scent would make her feel better. And she thought the scent would please her dad when he came to visit. Bea stored the items, then pulled out the Highland Recorder. “I thought you might like to read the paper.” Women loved to gossip. Bea knew from experience how Floozy kept the party line hot. She would want to keep up with the goings-on back home. Floozy continued staring out the window. Even Dad didn’t get a reply. Bea decided to give them some time alone. She’d gone halfway down the hall when she realized she’d forgotten her purse. She didn’t really need it, but her pocketbook was like a part of her and she felt lost without it. When she neared the door to Floozy’s room, she heard the whiny

voice. “Please, Jeremiah. You gotta take me home. They are awful to me here. They treat me bad. They’re mean to me. They beat me.” Oh Good Lord. The woman was up to her old tricks. The staff did not beat their patients. “They won’t let me eat. They starve me.” On and on she went, until Bea couldn’t take anymore. She barged inside. “I forgot my pocketbook. Glad to see you’re talking, Flossy. Guess you’re feeling better.” “She’s being mistreated.” Oh, Dad, no. Bea struggled with her thoughts, wondering how she should handle this. “Dad. I think she’s confused.” Floozy glared at her with hate flashing from her eyes. Of course, Dad didn’t see it. “She said they don’t give her anything to eat.” “Dad. You’ve been here when the staff brings her trays. There’s a dining room right down the hall. If she’d get out of bed, she could go eat at a table.” He shook his head. Bea noticed he held Floozy’s bony hand. The woman turned her head back to the window. Not such a chatterbox with Bea in the room. What was she to do? The nursing home allowed Floozy to leave the facility for short periods, although their policy had a limit on the number of outings allowed each month. If the patient stayed out more than the allotted time, she’d lose her spot in the home. Dad had taken Floozy to the farm overnight several times already. Bea had to make sure he took her back, because the woman tried her best to get him

to keep her home. Bea feared this might be one of those times. Over the next several months, Floozy’s health deteriorated. She ed away in her sleep. Bea worried about her father. But he carried on. He harvested his buckwheat, attended his Ruritan meetings, assisted with the maple festival pancake events, but Lute put an end to his driving livestock over the mountain. With respect and a large amount of finesse, he’d convinced Jeremiah. Dad still drove his tractor. He still took care of his farm. And with a little Ford Ranger, he continued his jaunts on the highway.

***

1997

Jeremiah pulled out a chair and sat down. Even at the age of ninety-five he had more energy than some men thirty years younger. Bea supposed living on a mountain and strolling over hills and meadows all his life had contributed in him reaching a seasoned age. Her dad called it good living and hard work. “What’s this fer?” Bea took the envelope from his outstretched hand. “This is for you to renew your driver’s license. “I already have a driver’s license. What am I supposed to do with this paper?” “This is a renewal notice, Dad. You take it to DMV.” “Well, where’s that? Hiner’s boy said they moved from down on Route 250.” “There’s an office right up the road,” Lute said. “I’ll take you to the DMV, Jeremiah.”

Bea cornered Lute in the hallway. “Are you really going to take him to renew his driver’s license?” “You want him to go by himself?” “I want him to stop driving. Every time I think about him driving round those curves on those narrow roads over that mountain, I cringe.” She shivered at the thought of him not making a turn and driving over a cliff. “He’s going to drive right off that mountain one of these days.” Lute placed a hand on her shoulder. “If he does, he does. You can’t stop him.” She stared into her husband’s eyes. “He’s ninety-five. He has no business driving. He shouldn’t even be on the road.” “Do you want to tell him that?” Her shoulders drooped in defeat. “Look. He’s driven all his life. He’s alone now. You take away his car, you’ll take away his heart.” “It worries me to death.” She crossed her arms around her middle. “Don’t worry. Maybe they won’t give it to him.”

When Lute pulled into the DMV parking lot, he sighed in relief to find it mostly empty. Even so, they had to wait a good thirty minutes before Jeremiah’s number was called. “Mr. Baldwin is here to get his license renewed.” “Hello, young lady. This here is my son-in-law.” Lute ired the man’s character. He stood tall, as straight as an old man could at his age. He dressed right smart, always wore a tie whether he donned his Sunday best or just a plain shirt. Lute had never seen the man without one— except maybe the days they chopped wood. And the man was a flirt. He turned

on the charm just now. “Mr. Baldwin, do you have your old license?” “What’s that?” “Your old driver’s license.” Lute raised his voice. “It’s in your wallet.” “Yes. I keep it there. Carry it all the time.” “She needs it.” “Oh.” Jeremiah reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening the fine, worn leather, he removed the plastic card and handed it to the woman. “I’ve been driving since I was thirteen.” Lute cringed and hoped the lady would not pay too much attention to the fact that he’d been driving before he was old enough. Heck, back in those days, every kid was driving at thirteen. On one of his out of state trips, Jeremiah drove to a big city and got nervous, so he turned the wheel over to Charles who was only fourteen. Boy drove through the city like it was nothing. Even Lute had been driving before he reached the age for a license. “You look like a nice girl. Do you know how old I am?” Shit. Jeremiah was proud of his age. He told everyone who would listen that he wanted to reach one hundred. But he didn’t need to he probably shouldn’t be at the DMV trying to renew his license. Although, Lute had to it Jeremiah was a good driver. Slow, as in pretty much one speed, but he drove carefully. Probably instincts, since he’d been driving neigh on eighty years. “No sir, I don’t.” Lute realized the woman behind the counter encouraged Jeremiah. All she had to do was look at the card. Jeremiah stood back and stretched to his full height. “I’m ninety-five years old.”

“Mr. Baldwin, I see you had a birthday yesterday. Happy Birthday.” “Thank you. My daughter and son-in-law took me to dinner. Gave me a cake, too. Ninety-five candles on my cake. That’s a lot of candles to put on a cake.” “Must have been a big cake.” “Yes. Bout this big.” He held up his arms to demonstrate the size. “My son gave me a truck, a Ford Ranger.” Lute hope Jeremiah would not mention how he left it running when he got out and the truck shot through the barn door. Lute never knew what might come out of the man’s mouth. “I wish someone would give me a car.” the woman said. “Well, maybe when you get to be ninety-five, one of your children will give you one.” The lady actually appeared pleasant. Every time Lute had been to the DMV the clerks were rude and discourteous. Either Jeremiah brought out the good in people or today was his lucky day. “In five more years, I’ll be one hundred.” He leaned forward. “Do I look like it?” Old coot. He flirted with every woman he met. Lute could just imagine the man in his younger days, when he went—as Bea called it—exploring with women. It must have been how he ended up with Flossy. The woman had been dead six years now. Jeremiah lived on the farm alone. So he was due some flirt time when he came to town. “You look like a young man, Mr. Baldwin.” She gave him a big smile. Yep. She flirted right back. But then, Jeremiah was harmless. “That’s mountain living. I get up every morning and take a walk through the woods. Every morning.” “You live on a mountain?” He puffed his chest out. “I own one.”

“Wow. You own a mountain?” “Sure do. But it’s not as big as the one I had to drive over to come to Stanley. I don’t drive fast like some of those yahoos.” He spoke the truth. If you traveled the mountain and ended at the back of a long line of traffic, it was a pretty sure bet that Jeremiah drove the car in front. “You know they put those double yellow lines all the way across the mountain, so now cars can’t on any part of it. There are some pretty sharp curves, but there’s a couple of spots of straight stretch.” “Mr. Baldwin, I think the highway department painted the double yellow lines for safety reasons.” “Then they can’t complain. And that’s just what I told that trooper when he pulled me over.” “Mr. Baldwin, were you trying to over a yellow line?” Lute expected the woman to bat her eyelashes. “Heck, no. I drive a safe speed. A bunch of cars were lined up behind me. When I got to the bottom of the mountain, cars went whizzing by me like a bumble bee with his stinger on fire.” The girl behind the counter snickered. “State trooper happened to be in that line. He pulled me over. I knew what he was gonna say before I rolled down my window. So I told him, ‘I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t tell the Highway Department to paint those double yellow lines across the mountain’.” “Did you get a ticket?” “What fer? Didn’t do nothin’ wrong. When he handed my license back, he said ‘have a nice day’. So now I need to get it renewed.” “All right. Take off your glasses, Mr. Baldwin, and look in here for me.” She rested her hand on the machine for the eye test.

“I can’t see without my glasses.” Damn. “That’s okay. You can leave them on. Lean over and look in here.” “I can’t put my head on that thing.” “Right here, Jeremiah.” Lute showed him where to place his head. After some squirming around, Jeremiah finally settled down. “I can’t see that.” “Take your time, Mr. Baldwin.” The clerk locked gazes with Lute. He appreciated the woman’s patience. “I can’t see nothin’.” “Shut up,” Lute whispered. “Just look in there. Just for a minute.” If Jeremiah kept this up, there would be no license issued today. “I can’t see nothing in there.” “You better be quiet if you want your license. You’ve got to see something.” “Here, Mr. Baldwin.” The clerk slid a paper across the counter. “Can you read this?” Jeremiah read the words out loud. The clerk stamped the paper with a loud whack. “You’ve got your new license, Mr. Baldwin.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

1999

The livestock was gone and Dad shouldn’t be on a tractor. Bea worried about her father alone on the farm. He got around pretty well, but she couldn’t be sure if he took his medicine or if he was taking care of himself. Frosty worried, too. He lived in Texas. Bea lived in Stanley. And Dad needed some supervision. Bea and her brother discussed options. She would not put her Dad in a nursing home. His health and his spirit did not justify that. Not to mention, he’d probably shoot her if she tried. But she didn’t want to. He didn’t belong in one. Yet something needed to be done. He just needed a little help. Living an hour away from her, just didn’t work. Maybe a retirement home, where someone could keep an eye out or just be close if he needed anything. And the car had to go. She just knew one of these days he’d drive right off that mountain. If he ever wrecked and hurt someone, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. So the process began. The search for a retirement home. She and Lute must have visited every establishment within thirty miles. Good Lord, she didn’t know that many facilities were out there. But most of them reminded her of a nursing home. She couldn’t imagine her dad in that type of setting. Finally, she found a few that seemed nice. Needing another opinion, she asked her daughter to go back to a select few with her. With Salina’s help, she decided on Holbrooke Manor Retirement Center. Even Lute liked it. Still the decision proved difficult. The thought of him being on the farm alone, worried her sick. Even though Dad had been capable of taking care of himself, he was getting up in years. Several people tried to take

advantage of him. A neighbor had tried to get him to sign over his land. Skunk. Bea just couldn’t keep up with her dad’s health or his activities, him being so far away. She discussed the move with her dad—convincing him was a real challenge. They visited several places before deciding on one. The pleasing smell of furniture polish hit Bea as she entered a large family room, set up for the residents or guests visiting with the occupants. To the right, she saw a dining hall where tenants were served their meals. She took comfort in the cleanliness of the facility. Dad had his own room with his own furniture. A nurse lived on site, dispensed his medicine, and the staff checked on him if he needed anything. A huge relief for Bea. She hated selling a section of his land and having an auction, but the retirement center charged $3000 a month. To keep her father safe and happy—for he liked it there, and it gave her some peace of mind—she, Lute and her daughter moved him into his new residence. Dad wanted to take his car, but Lute said no. How he convinced her father, she had no idea. But he never brought it up again. He could come and go as he pleased. Someone in the family was always available to drive him where he needed to go. The center felt cozy. Dad seemed to like it, and there were plenty of women for him to flirt with. The staff supervised several activities. The residents played cards, games, so even though her decision had been daunting, Bea felt comfortable with the environment of his new home. Often he would say, “There’s no place like home.” It wasn’t long before those words changed to, “Is it time to go back?” Many evenings, Lute brought Dad to the house for supper. On this particular evening, Bea had just finished her dessert. “What did you say, Dad?” “I think it’s time to go back.” “We just finished eating.”

“Well, that’s all right. Them women down there will be getting ready to play cards.” Bea sneaked a quick glance to Lute. His eyes twinkled and he smiled. His eyes always did create a flutter in her heart. “Dad, do you want to go back to the retirement home?” He looked at his watch again. “They don’t want me to stay out too late.” Hogwash. The staff knew where he was. They didn’t care if he stayed out all night as long as they were notified. Bea guessed he had a girlfriend. She tried to smother her laugher, but a quiet giggle escaped. Lute wiped his mouth and laid down the napkin. “If you’re ready to go back, Jeremiah, let’s go.” Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the manor. Bea watched her father hurry from the van. “Hold on, Jeremiah.” Lute chuckled. While he locked the van, Dad had already stepped onto the curb, headed for the side door. He tapped his cane with impatience. Lute held open the side door to the building while Bea and her father walked through. When they entered the great room, several women called to her dad. “Jeremiah, where you been?” “Jeremiah, you’re back.” “Jeremiah, you playing cards with us?” He hurried over to a group of women, a large smile plastered on his face. A world of relief caressed Bea’s shoulders. She’d been so worried, so full of guilt. But her Dad glowed from the attention. The man looked happy. Happier than she’d seen him years before he moved to the manor. “I’ve got to take my hat and coat to my room. I’ll be right back.”

Bea watched as her father took off at a fast pace, swinging the cane he’d picked up at the New York World’s Fair in 1939. It never touched the floor.

***

2001

The Ruritan Club had scheduled a special dinner. Jeremiah was a charter member, and had been active in the club since the thing had been originated. He didn’t want to miss this event. Bea called her daughter, Salina, and, as always, she agreed to take him. He looked mighty fine in his suit and he was raring to go. They piled into her daughter’s vehicle, then she drove over the mountain to the old Highland County school house. The large room, once a cafeteria, had been set up as a banquet hall. Tables were covered with white table clothes and a podium stood in front. Jeremiah had a place of honor. Bea sat on one side of him and Salina on the other. After their meal, the speaker took charge and presentations were made. Jeremiah started clacking his teeth. Every now and then a small something would shoot out. Bea heard her daughter snicker. After the meeting, she stood with Salina in the back of the room while several men gathered around her father. “Did you see that?” “What?” Bea asked. “He was spitting seeds or something. I thought I was going to crack up.” Even now she had difficulty keeping a straight face.

“I heard you snigger.” “Well, I couldn’t help it. Be glad I didn’t bust out laughing.” Salina’s gaze followed her granddad as he moved among his friends. “He’s a hoot.” “Thank you for bringing him. The nurse at the home said he had a slight temperature.” “This is a big deal for him. I was glad to do it. Besides, we got a free meal.” “The women of this community are good cooks. The food was great.” “Yes, it was. Here he comes.” As Jeremiah approached, he had a big grin on his face. Seeing his joy made the trip worth everything “Are you ready, Dad?” “Yep. I had a mighty fine time.” “That’s good.” The moon gave off very little light. She held on to her father’s arm as they stepped into the dark. Salina guided them to her SUV and they headed home. They made it to within ten minutes of the retirement home when Bea heard a grunt from the back seat. Jeremiah threw up. “Oh no.” Salina pulled over to the side of the road. Jeremiah heaved and gagged. Flustered, Bea didn’t know what to do first. Salina jumped out and ran around her car. She opened the back door and helped her granddad out while Bea climbed from the front. “There’s a box of tissues in the back seat.” Bea went to get them. “Oh my God.” “What?” “He threw up in your car.” “I know,” Salina groaned.

Bea grabbed the tissues and tried to clean up her dad while Salina held him. When he said he felt better, they propped him against the vehicle. Salina tried to mop up what she could, then she shrugged her shoulders. “Not much more I can do now. I’ll have to deal with it later.” She helped him back into the car and fastened his seat belt. “Shit. Ten more minutes and he would have been home.” “I’m sorry.” “Don’t worry about it. Maybe I took the curves too fast.” “The nurse said he had a slight temperature. Maybe he was sick before we left.” “Let’s get him home.” When they arrived at the retirement center, he seemed to feel better. Bea cleaned him up and put him to bed. The resident came to check on him. “He got sick in the car.” “The poor thing. I’ll keep an eye on him,” the attendant assured her. “Thank you.” Bea pulled the covers over her dad and told him goodnight. The next morning the lady from the retirement home called stating Dad had lost his teeth. Good grief. After the night they’d had, she didn’t need more bad news. Lute drove Bea to the retirement community and the two of them searched his room. With no luck in finding his dentures, she wondered if her dad might have lost them when he got sick. Bea called her daughter. “Your granddad lost his teeth. Your dad thinks maybe he lost them when we stopped. When Granddad got sick.” “Holy crap. You think so?” “I threw all the tissues in the trash can in his room last night, but that’s gone.

Your dad thought it might be worth it to go look along the road.” “I can go when I get off work.” “Can you tell me where we stopped?” “Sure. It was on Route 250, the back way. Do you ?” “Here, I’ll let you talk to your dad.” She handed the phone to Lute. “Hello.” Bea only heard his side of the conversation, although she did think she heard her daughter laugh. Lute said he’d pay to have her car cleaned, mentioned some directions and then hung up. “Let’s go.” Lute pulled their car over to the side of the road where he said Salina had described in her directions. Bea couldn’t . This part of the highway looked the same for miles. They searched for a long way and found nothing. After about an hour, they gave up. At six o’clock that evening, Salina pulled into their driveway. She entered the house with a big smile on her face, holding a paper towel in her hand. She’d found her granddad’s teeth.

***

2002

Bea carefully lifted the birthday cake from her car. Needing both hands, she used her hip to close the door.

“Wait, Mom. I’ll come around and help.” “I’ve got it.” Lute had purchased an extended conversion van. If Bea had known the vehicle could make him so happy, she would have suggested buying the thing years ago. Salina grabbed some bags from the back, then held the building door open while Bea carried in her father’s birthday cake. One hundred years. He made it. And he was just as spry and wiry as he’d been twenty years back. He walked just fine; carried a cane but didn’t use it. Bea walked down the hall to the kitchen and placed the cake on the shiny countertop. “Hello, Bea.” “Hi, Ellen.” Ellen worked in the kitchen at the retirement center. The nurse, Kay, stood next to her. “Your father is in his room,” Kay told her. “He’s been announcing to anyone who will listen that it’s his birthday. And of course, he’s a hundred.” “Then I guess everyone knows. Did you tell them they were invited to the party?” Ellen laughed. “Didn’t have to. Jeremiah’s got all the residents excited, and half of them are already in the dining hall.” “Are you by yourself?” Kay asked. “Lute went back to see if Dad needs any help getting ready. Salina took some whistles and party hats on down to the dining hall.” “Where’s that fine husband of hers?” Kay asked. “He’ll be here. He went to get their granddaughter.” “She’s a doll baby,” Ellen said. “How old is she?”

“Two.” “I don’t think I’ve seen anything cuter than when she walks with your father down the hall holding his hand.” “Yeah. Gets me in the heart. They’ve taken a shine to each other.” Kay counted her fingers. “That’s five generations.” “Yes, it is. Salina had a picture taken of Dad, me, her, her oldest son, and Ally.” Bea removed the large sheet cake from the box. Kay pulled a cutting knife from a drawer. “Are you going to put a hundred candles on that cake?” “I better. Salina counted out every one.” “That girl of yours is fun.” Kay turned to Ellen. “She had deer antlers on her head at Christmas.” “She has champagne glasses for the party.” “Champagne glasses? Is that girl crazy?” “They’re plastic. She found them at the Dollar Tree. In assorted colors.” “This ought to be a party you all will .” Bea heard the laughter before she entered the dining hall. Men and women wore party hats and commented on their plastic, colored champagne glasses. Dad sat at the center table with Ally at his elbow. Finger food, chips and dip lined the tables on one wall. Since some of the guests were unable to get around very well, the staff filled plates and carried food to the tables. Salina flittered from one group to the next, making sure everyone had plenty to eat and drink. When the time came for the cake, she led everyone in singing “Happy Birthday”. Ally stood on a chair beside Great-Great Granddaddy and helped him open presents. Bea had confirmed the tenants were not to contribute gifts. But she made sure her dad had some presents.

He tried to blow out the candles, but with so many still burning, many volunteers were willing to help.

Chapter Thirty-Four

2002

Bea held her father’s frail hand. She hated seeing him like this. Lingering. Even at the age of one hundred he was a spry old man. Why, just a few weeks ago he swung his cane as he hurried down the hall of his retirement home, anxious to place his coat and hat in his room so he could hurry back to the women playing cards at the dining hall table. Knowing him, he’d even slicked his hair down and primped a bit so he’d look his best for the ladies. A flirt. She wondered if her father had been born a flirt. He was funny, and feisty for his age, and she loved him dearly. That’s why it pained her so, seeing him lying in this hospital bed between sleep and what waited for him beyond. Her heart ached. Frosty said Dad was stubborn. She knew it to be true. Anyone who knew Jeremiah, knew him to be a determined, persistent, opinionated man. But he was a kind, considerate, charitable man as well. There wasn’t a man in the world that he wasn’t willing to give a helping hand. And he’d gone out of his way to assist quite a few. His job never ending, Dad greeted each day knowing work waited for him, always something to do. Hard work had been his lot in life. Salina scurried into the hospital room, making her usual stop on her way home from work. “How is he?” “The same.”

“He’s resting?” “The doctor said there’s no sign of pain. He’s just . . . lingering.” Salina pulled a chair next to her. “Do you think, now that . . . since he turned one hundred, he’s giving up? He’s gone downhill so fast.” His goal had been to live to be one hundred years old. Two months ago they’d celebrated his birthday. If the retirement home had not switched his room to the opposite side of the corridor, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten confused and taken a wrong turn, or fell and broke his hip. He’d been asleep for days. Bea rubbed her fingers across the back of his hand. Limp, pale, blue veins protruding down to his long fingers. “You know, Mom, I believe that even if someone is in a comatose state, that person can hear you. I think Granddad can hear us.” Maybe he could, maybe he slept so deep he couldn’t hear anything. But she had to try. “Dad? Can you hear me? I love you.” What if her daughter was right? What if Dad could hear them? Frosty said that even now, while he seemed lifeless to the rest of us, Dad probably worried about the chores on the farm. Frosty said Dad wouldn’t let go until he knew everything had been taken care of. Bea needed to put his mind at ease. Her eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath and willed them back. “Dad. Frosty and the boys made hay. They stacked it in the barn.” Her throat clogged. “You should see all the wood we cut,” Salina came to her aid. “Dad brought his log splitter. First time I’ve ever seen one. We loaded the logs in his dump truck and hauled them up to the house. Can you believe he let me drive the dump truck? We have a huge pile of wood. Filled the woodshed.”

Salina whispered to Bea, “Scared the daylights out of me. Granddad always said snakes loved the woodshed. They hide under the side porch, too.” “Yes, they do,” Bea answered, then turned back to her dad. “The boys stacked wood on the porch, Dad. You’ve got plenty of wood for this winter.” Even though she knew he’d never go home again, she wanted to assure him. He’d worked all his life. He’d worry about things needing to be done. Like Frosty said, Dad needed to know all the work had been finished before he could rest. She hated seeing her father like this. He wouldn’t like it. He’d achieved his goal. He’d partied with a plastic champagne glass full of bubbly cider. Everyone at the manor had a grand time celebrating with him in style. At the end of the evening, when it came time to leave, he took his great-great-granddaughter’s hand for the last time and walked with her down the hallway. The image of the little girl in pigtails holding Dad’s fingers grew sharp in Bea’s mind. Then last week she’d received a call. He fell. Off a curb. How had he gotten outside? Now he lingered. He had failed fast. Everyone said it was time. Salina shoved a tissue in Bea’s hand, then rubbed circles on Bea’s back. It gave her the strength to go on. “All the cows are milked. Betsy and Cherry are gone, of course you know that. We named the new cow Gladys. How do you like that? She’s a good girl.” Bea wiped the tear rolling down her cheek. “You don’t have to worry, Dad. The chickens and the hogs have been fed. Everyone is settled down for the night.” Good Lord, this was hard. She had to let him go. He had to let go. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Everything is taken care of. There is nothing left to do. You can rest now. It’s all done. You can . . . let go.” Her voice gurgled and she nearly choked. She felt Salina’s gaze burning her face. When an arm tightened around Bea, she glanced up to see tears in her daughter’s eyes. “I’m here for you, Mom. I understand you need to do this.” Bea squeezed her hand, unable to go on.

“Frosty is at the barn, Granddad. My boys are with him. We all love you. All the work is done. We have wood for the stove. A nice fire is burning and we’re warm. I even put a blanket over the piglet you have in the box. We’ll take good care of him.” How nice Salina thought of the pig. Dad brought more than one to the house for a pet. “Everyone is okay, Dad. Everyone is resting.” His face blurred in her vision as she smoothed the hair over his temple. Then she placed a kiss upon his brow. “You can rest now, Dad. Go to sleep. Everything is done.” She took a deep breath and forced the words out. “You can go now.” Bea kissed her father’s cheek. Her heart heavy, her energy drained, she leaned on her daughter’s arm as they left the hospital and headed home. The house appeared dark, but for a small light in the back. Salina waited to see Bea safely inside. She told her daughter goodnight, then closed and locked the kitchen door. Due to the lateness of the hour, Lute would be in bed. She hadn’t eaten dinner; she should be hungry, but she only wanted something to drink. Maybe a Coke. A lamp burned in the bedroom. Lute rallied from the bed. “Any news?” “No,” she answered with a heavy sigh. “You’re worn out. Come to bed.” “I think I’ll stay up a while longer. If I come to bed now, I know I won’t sleep.” She put on her gown and robe, then curled up on the couch. And nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang.

Bea jerked awake. The ringing of the phone seemed so real, it took her a moment to realize she’d been dreaming of her father’s ing. While reliving memories of her childhood and her siblings, she’d fallen asleep. Sounds of laughter trickled in through the screen door, making her aware of her surroundings. She glanced about the farmhouse living room, noting she was alone. Her family still dallied outside. She placed her hands on the edge of the chair’s wooden arms and pushed herself to her feet. Her bones were old and it took a lot more effort these days to stand. With one last glance about her old home, she tucked her memories away. Voices grew louder as she headed for the side door. The scent of floral blossoms hung heavy in the air. She stepped from the porch down into the yard and crossed the lush green grass to the gate. Her steps were slow in keeping her balance. Several of her family stood in the grove, their attention focused toward the barn. She followed their line of sight, trying to distinguish what had them spellbound and found the source of their entertainment. The neighbor had come to call in her fancy golf cart. Frosty had taken one of the smaller children for a ride down to the barn. A curious cow seemed to be following the cart. The little one slid closer to Frosty’s side keeping a wary eye on the inquisitive cow. Bea laughed along with everyone watching. It looked like the child was attached to Frosty’s hip. Any closer and she would be in his lap. As Bea strode to the group of laughing adults, she spotted her grandson at the fence with a gun to his shoulder. He’d gotten one of those scopes. Back in the day, Dad and her brothers just aimed and shot. Now a’days, all sorts of newfangled contraptions were in stores. Her girls called them “grown-up boy’s toys”. Pretty expensive toys, if someone asked her. Next to the falling down chicken coop, the men had parked their cars. Bea’s granddaughter leaned against her dad’s truck. The girl was seventeen, the same age Bea had been when she marched down the lane with her little suitcase. A wave of sadness pricked her chest. During those years, after her mother left, Bea wondered how she would survive.

An arm draped over her shoulder giving her comfort. She looked up into her son-in-law’s eyes. Look how her life had turned out. Two daughters, three grandsons, and seven great-grandchildren. She only wished her younger brothers had lived longer, and shared more years with her. Of course, Razz’s death was an accident. But Bussy . . . To this day no one knew exactly why Bussy did what he did. Many people speculated. Everyone knew something triggered his actions. His best friend, Petey, had been shattered. They were to meet up at a dance. Sometimes Bea would look at her daughter’s smiling face, watch her teasing ways, and think of her brother. Salina’s eyes had a twinkle of tomfoolery, just like Bussy. Razz had been Bea’s protector, so she knew he would have been good with her children. She doubted he would have stayed on the farm, though, not with Floozy still there. She prayed her two brothers were finally at peace. Charles ended up being the only boy who stayed on the farm. Dad had given him a section of land down below, closer to the highway. Charles married a woman from West Virginia, had a el of boys, but all they ever did was cause mischief. They had been too mean to help their grandfather. When they were old enough, the boys moved away. No one wanted to work the farm. Bea’s eyes misted again as she thought of Lucy. She’d grown up to be a bright, strong, opinionated, smart-dressed woman. But then she’d always been feisty. She never had any children, but Bea’s youngest followed Lucy around like she belonged to her. The two had formed an attachment, a special bond that lasted through Lucy’s last breath. Frosty never returned to Virginia. He still lives in Texas with his wife, daughter and granddaughter. With his soft spot for children, it was a shame he only had one of his own. Even so, she wreaked havoc during her teenage years. Boys and shopping were all his daughter thought about, in that order. However, she did give him a granddaughter, which he spoils just as outrageously as he spoiled his daughter. His visits to Virginia are rare, but he swears his life is full and he’s happy. With the life Bea’s siblings led, it was a wonder any of them were able to grow to adulthood and make something of themselves. In spite of everything, she, Charles, Lucy and Frosty overcame circumstance and developed lasting

relationships. Many years ago, she had no idea what life had in store for her. But, she’d been blessed. Blessed with strength, determination, and the will to survive. Blessed with a caring Sunday school teacher who took her in when she needed someone the most.

The End

Also by Samanthya Wyatt

The Right One The True One The Only One Through the Eyes of Bea Something More A Hero Grinch for Christmas Instant Enticement The Doctor’s Bargain The Firefighters of Station #8 – MIKE The Firefighters of Station #8 – SHEP

To find more on Samanthya’s books, visit her website: www.samanthyawyattauthor.com You can also find her on facebook, linkedin, twitter, goodreads, smashwords.

Samanthya Wyatt writes sizzling hot suspense. Intensely emotional characters with a deep ionate love for friends, family, and most importantly—between the hero and heroine. Although her first love is historical romance, this awardwinning author also writes contemporary. Additionally, she has written a book of one family’s struggle based on true life events. Samanthya left her ing career and married a military man traveling and making her home in the United States and abroad. She now lives in the Shenandoah Valley. On a sunny day, you can find her and her husband driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway or going to car shows in their 1969 Mustang convertible. She loves long walks, and a book to read on a sandy beach. Starbucks is her favorite drink and she likes hearing from her fans. She invites you to lay the worries of the world off your shoulders and get lost in the pages of a romance, where you embark on a journey with the hero and heroine, become involved in a dream, plunge into a world of fantasy, and live an adventure your heart can share.

To find more on Samanthya, visit her website: www.samanthyawyattauthor.com