Bettina glared at the pages all covered over with Addie’s writing. Those letters might as well be marks left by a cricket that jumped in an inkwell and then on the paper, for all the sense they made. “ ’Bout what?”
Emmett stacked the papers and moved them to the corner of the desk. “I’m not sure she wants me to tell anyone about it yet, Bettina.”
Now he and Addie were keeping secrets? She put her hand on her hip. “Well, la-di-da. If she don’t want nobody to know, how come she showed you?”
“I guess she trusts me. Now…” He pulled Miz West’s notepad close, put his spectacles on, and picked up a pencil. He tapped the pencil on the notepad. “According to Miss West’s notes, there are seven stops on your Monday route—the Cissells, the Days, the Fromans, the McCashes, the Neelys, the Toons, and Nanny Fay Tuckett. Is that right?”
Bettina wanted to talk more about that story Addie’d wrote and was keeping secret, but she couldn’t be all testy with Emmett. She made herself use her sweet voice, the one she pulled out when Pap needed gentling. “Yes, Emmett, that’s sure right.”
He glanced at her, the corners of his lips twitching.
She tossed her head again. “But you got the order all mixed up. First I go to—”
“They’re listed alphabetically. I realize you visit them according to their location.”
If he didn’t sound just like Miz West, all highfalutin. Bettina scrunched her lips tight so she’d stay quiet.
“Because the Cissells and the McCashes take you pretty far north of the other cabins, I’m going to give those two stops to Addie instead.”
Bettina scrapped her vow to stay quiet. Or to be sweet. “But I like goin’ to the Cissells. Miz Cissell always gives me a cup o’ apple cider.” Sweetest cider on the whole mountain. Her mouth watered thinking about it. “Why not give Nanny Fay Tuckett to Addie instead? Not like she don’t see the ol’ herb woman anyway.”
Emmett put down the pencil and turned in his chair. No more sideways glances. He looked full in Bettina’s face. And he didn’t smile.
“Hey, good mornin’!” Alba and Glory came in, and Addie followed them. They all crowded close to the table, but Emmett didn’t say howdy to them or even act like he knew they was there. He kept looking right at Bettina. With those spectacles over his blue eyes, he seemed a heap older. And stern. A stern stranger.
“Bettina, Miss West left me her notes and recommendations, and I’m using them to get started. I might stick with what she suggested, and I might deviate from her suggestions over time. But either way, I’m not going to give you a lengthy explanation. The fact is I’ve been hired to direct this program. That means you and the other girls”—his eyes flicked toward them and came back—“will have to trust me to do what I think is best.”
Bettina folded her arms right over her chest. He didn’t talk mean. Not like Pap did. But she still wanted to shrink into the floorboards, being spoke to that way by Emmett in front of Addie, Glory, and Alba. Worst, she didn’t know what deviate meant, but Addie probably did.
“So, with that being said…” He flipped a page on the notebook and shifted himself in front of the book again. “Let me share what changes to today’s schedule have been made to make three routes into four.”
Emmett took away one stop from Glory and two from Alba and gave them to Addie. Glory asked how come she’d only lost one stop. He told her it had to do with distance and that the number of stops would all balance out by the end of the week. He didn’t scold her for asking a question, and Bettina came close to reminding him he wasn’t gonna give no explanations. But then he handed out their packs, and when Bettina took hers, their fingers brushed. Did he do that on purpose? She gave him a little smile. He didn’t seem to notice, and her spirits sank to her stomach like a rock to the bottom of a well.
He stood and pushed his hands into his pockets. “All right, ladies, you’re set.”
Ladies? Miz West always called them girls. Bettina kinda liked being called a lady instead.
“I’ll see you all back here around five, if my calculations are correct.”
“Five?” Glory near shouted the word. She sent a big smile at Addie. “I ain’t been home before six, not one single time since we started these routes. This’s gonna be great havin’ you out there takin’ books, too.”
Bettina made a sour face and hoped Glory saw it. She wouldn’t even mind if Emmett saw it. She stomped out the door. First Emmett kept secrets with Addie, then Glory acted like Addie was their new hero. Bettina wouldn’t complain, because she wanted her evenings free so her and Emmett could get to courting, but he was gonna have to get off his high horse when they was at work together. And she was gonna have to find out what Addie’d wrote on them papers.
Black Mountain
Addie
“WHO’RE YOU?”
Addie clung to Russet’s reins and stared down the barrel of the rifle. She swallowed hard. “I’m Addie Cowherd, Mrs. Cissell.”
The tip of the rifle lowered slightly, but the woman didn’t remove her finger from the trigger. “I don’t know nobody named Cowherd.” Three children clung to her skirts and peered at Addie over the edge of the porch railing. The fear in their eyes made Addie’s heart ache.
“I came with Bettina Webber last week when she brought you your books. Remember?”
“Nope.”
“She brought…” Addie consulted the list Emmett had given her. “A copy of Life magazine, two children’s picture books—The Little Red Hen and Jolly Pets—and A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway.” She patted her bag. “I have some new books to exchange with you. If I may—”
The rifle barrel bounced up, and the woman squinted one eye shut. “ ’Less you want a new part in your hair, you stay right there.” The smallest child began to whimper. “I recollect Bettina comin’, same as she always does, an’ I recall some girl a-standin’ in the trees.”
Which was where Bettina had instructed her to remain. “Yes, ma’am. That was me. Bettina brought me here because she won’t be delivering books to your house anymore. You’re on my route now. If you’d let me come up close, I’ll take last week’s books and give you these new ones.” She braved a smile at the round-eyed, dirty-faced children. “I bet your children would enjoy reading The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger. The pictures are delightful.” She reached inside her pack, intending to hold up the book.
“Do you have rocks for ears? I said you ain’t welcome on my land. Whatever you got in your bag, you keep it an’ move on.”
Addie tugged Russet’s reins and encouraged the animal to carry her into the brush, where she’d be out of sight. Then she stopped and rearranged the books in her pack in readiness for the next stop. How she hated leaving without handing these books to those little children. Their wide, frightened eyes haunted her. Certainly some strangers were to be feared—those who came with ill intent. But to teach children to distrust every new face they encountered wasn’t healthy. Somehow she needed to find a way to communicate that truth.
Sighing, she set aside thoughts of the Cissell children and examined her schedule. According to her list, the Donohoo cabin was next. The Donohoos lived about a half mile northeast, across a creek and beyond a boulder covered in moss. There were no street signs or numbers to direct a person on the mountain—only landmarks. But Addie’s good memory served her well. She found the Donohoo cabin, which had been built on such a sharp rise that its front half stood on stilts. If a person fell from the porch, he or she would certainly suffer broken bones.
She slipped from Russet’s back and walked the horse the final uphill yards. At the base of the rise, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hello in the cabin!”
A tattered white curtain shielded the single window, and the front door stood open. No one came to the doorway, but Addie was sure she saw someone lift the curtain aside, peek out, and
drop it back into place.
She rose up on tiptoes for a better glimpse. “Hello? Mrs. Donohoo? It’s Addie, from the library. I’ve brought you some books.”
What sounded like a child’s wail came from somewhere in the cabin, followed by a harsh “Hush, you!” and a door slamming. Silence fell.
Addie waited a few more seconds, watching the doorway. But no one came. “Mrs. Donohoo?” She’d heard a child. What were the names of the Donohoo children? She checked the information Emmett had given her. “Darlene? Margie? I’m here with books.”
No response.
The silence unnerved her. People were inside the cabin. Why wouldn’t they come out? She thought about putting the books she’d brought on the porch, assuming she could climb up there. But she wasn’t supposed to leave more unless the previous ones were returned. And according to her paper, the Donohoos already had five books on loan.
“Git outta here or I’ll sic the hounds on you!”
Addie jolted so violently she almost lost her footing on the steep incline. The male voice had blasted from somewhere nearby, and a dog’s fierce yaps followed it. She sent startled looks right and left. She couldn’t see the person giving the threat, but she decided to take it seriously. She put her foot in the stirrup and tried to pull herself onto the saddle, but Russet turned a slow circle. Addie hopped beside her while maniacal laughter rang from the bushes.
She jerked her foot free and snagged the horse’s reins. “You dumb beast!” She started down the rise, her face flaming, embarrassment giving way to anger. Such rudeness, to holler and cackle but not let her see who menaced her. These people didn’t deserve to be on the list to receive books.
Then she remembered the child’s plaintive cry. Had it been Margie or Darlene crying for a new book? Sympathy replaced her fury.
She drew Russet to a stop and turned backward. “If you change your mind and want to swap books, please come by the library in town. I’ll make sure they’re waiting for you there.”
“You just git!” No humor graced the man’s tone.
Addie reached the creek. Several large stones lined a portion of the bank. She eyed the largest rock. If she climbed on it, she might be able to swing herself into the saddle again. But what if the awful person with the dog was following her? She’d waste less time and get to her next stop, the McCash cabin, faster by walking. With a firm grip on Russet’s reins, she sent a furtive glance over her shoulder and splashed into the creek. Frigid water soaked the bottom inches of her pant legs and filled her boots, and she sucked in a gasp. Her feet sank into the soft creek bed, and she fought for every forward step as if walking through clay. When she reached the opposite bank, her whole body was shivering.
She paused for a few minutes, panting hard and gathering her bearings. The McCashes lived in a quaint cabin in the center of a small clearing beyond a thick stand of pines, maples, and pokeberry bushes. If she remembered correctly, a split-rail fence circled their yard. The fence would make a fine ladder for getting up on Russet’s back again. If they allowed her to use it.
“Come along, Russet. A brisk walk should get me dry again.”
Russet snorted and trailed her like a faithful hound dog. While she walked, she ate the strawberry jam sandwiches Nanny Fay had sent along. The sweetness of the jam took the sour taste of rejection from her tongue, and by the time she reached the McCashes’ fence, she’d set aside her irritation.
As she’d done previously, Addie called from the edge of what she considered the yard.
A slump-shouldered woman with brown hair straggling in her face stayed in the doorway. She shook her head sadly. “My man don’t allow no strangers around here. He’ll be comin’ in most any minute now for vittles, so you best get on outta here.”
“Ma’am, I’d like to trade these books from the li—”
“Not today.”
Addie held back a grunt of aggravation and pointed to the fence. “May I use your fence to get on my horse?”
“You best move on.” The woman disappeared inside the cabin.
Addie moved on toward the next stop, consoling herself that at least no one aimed a rifle at her or threatened to sic a dog on her here. Mother would probably call that a blessing, albeit a minuscule one. But she’d used up half the day, seen three families, and hadn’t delivered even one book. Or collected one. How would she face Emmett and the other riders after failing so dismally?
Boone’s Hollow
Emmett
AS EMMETT HAD predicted, the first rider, Glory, returned well before five o’clock. She handed in her books, smiling big, and told him Alba was right behind her. Alba came in as jubilant to have the evening free as Glory was. The girls left together, jabbering and giggling. It heartened him to know they were leaving happy. He and Miss West had done well in organizing their new routes.
He’d just finished recording Glory’s returns when Bettina sauntered in. Recalling their unpleasant exchange that morning, his stomach tightened, but she flopped her pack onto the corner of the table and then offered him an eyelash-batting smile, as if their disagreement hadn’t taken place.
She patted the stack of books Alba had brought back. “Looks like everybody’s gettin’ in early. Tell you what…” She fluttered her eyelashes again and rested her weight on one leg, hip jutted out. “When you’ve got the returns marked in the book the way Miz West always done, why don’tcha come to my place? Got some cream I need to use up, so I’ll be makin’ creamed peas an’ chicken over biscuits for supper. Don’t mean to brag or nothin’, but I’m a pretty fair cook. My biscuits are light as an angel’s wings.”
He rubbed his stomach. “That sounds good, Bettina, but Maw’s expecting me for supper.”
She shrugged. “Come over after supper, then. Mebbe we could play dominoes. Or slapjack. Pap’s got a deck o’ cards just sittin’ around waitin’ for somebody to use ’em.”
Maw would skin him alive if he played card games. She didn’t hold with games of chance—said they were of the devil. He didn’t share her view, but he respected her too much to partake behind her back. “I better not. I’ve still got quite a bit of work to do here. I might have to finish up after supper.”
Bettina flicked the pages on the closest magazine. “Ain’t fair for you to have to work clear into the evenin’ if all us girls got the hours free.”
“Well, so far you, Alba, and Glory have the evening free. Addie isn’t back yet.” He pulled out his timepiece and checked it. Only a quarter after five. He shouldn’t worry yet. He lifted his head and found Bettina examining him through slitted eyes.
“Are you makin’ excuses so’s you can stay here this evenin’ an’ read that story Addie wrote up?”
Emmett had already finished it during his lunch break. Addie’s ability to weave pictures with words had impressed him. She wrote well. Maybe as well as some published authors he’d read. But more than that, she’d stirred his emotions. He wouldn’t share his thoughts with Bettina, though. She didn’t need any more fuel for her jealousy fire.
He forced a smile. “I’ve got too much work to do to think about reading for pleasure. It’ll take me a while to learn every part of this new job.”
Bettina whirled, giving her head a toss. “Well, then, I reckon I better leave you to it. But if you change your mind, just mosey on over.” One more eyelash flutter and she slipped around the corner.
Emmett sagged into his chair. Mercy, that girl was unpredictable. One minute all smiles and charm, the next flinging daggers with her eyes. But as he recalled from their growing up together, she flitted from one interest to another much like a butterfly moving from flower to flower. She’d turn her attention to something—or someone—else soon enough. In the meantime, he had work to do.
He cataloged the returned books, put them in their proper places on the shelves, and organized materials to send out tomorrow. In between, he
checked his timepiece. The supper hour came and went, and Addie hadn’t returned. He pulled out the paper where he’d drawn a rough map of her route and traced it with his finger. It would have probably taken her an hour to reach the Cissells’. Then on to the Donohoos’ was roughly thirty minutes on horseback. He paused, scowling out the window. She had been on horseback, hadn’t she? Yes, he’d seen her depart, and she’d been in the saddle.
She should have reached the McCash cabin by noon. Mrs. McCash might have invited her in to visit during lunch. Addie would certainly have accepted. If she stayed for an hour, she should have reached the Clinkenheards’ by half past two. She’d pick up the Watkinses’ place on the way back to town. By his estimation, she should have come in by four thirty at the latest. So where was she?
The evening shadows were getting heavier. He lit the lamp on the desk, then crossed to the door and looked up and down the street. His gaze reached Gilliam’s Livery, and an unpleasant idea filled his head. He took off at a trot and burst into the barn.
Kermit was stabbing up clumps of hay with a pitchfork. He spun around and aimed the tines at Emmett, his expression fierce. Then he let the fork fall. “What’re you doin’, comin’ in here like a posse’s on your tail? You near about got speared.”
“Sorry to startle you, Kermit, but one of my riders, Addie Cowherd, hasn’t come back. She rents Russet.” Emmett peeked in Russet’s stall. “I wondered if maybe the horse came back on her own.”
“Ain’t seen mane nor tail o’ Russet since this mornin’.” He shook the hay loose from the fork into a stall, then moved to the next one. “I can send one o’ my boys over to let you know when she’s back, if you like.”
Emmett nodded and shifted out of Kermit’s way. “That’d be nice of you.”
Kermit sent a scowl over his shoulder. “Although I gotta tell you, I’d ruther that new book gal wasn’t borrowin’ one o’ my horses. Once her pay runs out, I might tell her I ain’t gonna rent to her no more.”
The Librarian of Boone's Hollow Page 22