Willow Springs
Page 28
Of all the animals, only Old Tom made the trip with Copper. Caught up in a wicker basket, he was too old to give much protest.
After much thought as to what she should take, the wagon was ready. A lilac slip from over Paw-paw’s grave and a sapling from Willow Springs wrapped together in wet burlap were last to be loaded. Everything else, after Alice took family heirlooms to save for Dodie and Lilly Gray, from furniture to pots and pans and bedding, was parceled to Searcy and to Birdie for her burgeoning boardinghouse. Some special items of Simon’s were given to Tommy Turner, who would in turn leave them to Andy.
Copper wasn’t a foolish woman. She’d listened to Benton’s advice carefully. She would have a small income of her own and money for Lilly Gray’s education when the time came. There was no virtue in hunger as far as she could tell. Alice had promised to see to Andy and to Marydell, if need be, and so Copper was set free, in a sense—free to seek solace for her aching heart, a balm from Gilead.
Now as the buggy covered the miles, Copper said to Isaac, “I wonder what the home place will look like.”
“Way different, I expect. Once Daniel and Emilee Pelfrey moved away, there probably wasn’t anybody checking on it. Do you ever hear from John?”
“Not for a long time,” she mused. “He could be anywhere in the world by now. Where was it his ma and pa went?”
“Emilee’s father died and left them a good-size farm in Virginia. Can you imagine moving all their young’uns?”
Copper laughed. “They had twelve, outside of John, who had already left. Makes my move seem easy, doesn’t it?”
Lilly Gray slumped against her, napping, and Copper nearly drifted off herself, the sway of the carriage lulling her. What would she find when she got home? She feared raccoons would have taken over the cabin. There wasn’t a window or door that could keep them and their nasty destructive ways out of an abandoned house. If nothing else, they’d come down the chimney. And she lamented the garden, probably run over with jimsonweed. It would take months to get it ready for planting, too late for a crop this year. Fortunately, she had plenty of Searcy’s canned goods plus enough dried beans, flour, sugar, and lard to stock a good-size grocery store.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Isaac said to Copper.
“I was just thinking of all the work that lies ahead. Do you think I’m foolish to try to make a go of Daddy’s farm by myself?”
He turned his soft brown eyes on her. “It won’t be easy, but I could see you were losing yourself in the city. Once Simon was gone, it wasn’t home to you anymore.”
“It never really was,” she said. “The only time I was in my own skin was when Simon was next to me or when I was helping women in their time of need. That’s why I’m coming back. To find myself and to birth some babies.” She stretched her arms up over her head. Lilly Gray stirred beside her. Smiling, she looked at Isaac. “I should find some babies to birth somewhere up these hollers; don’t you think?”
He had to stop the horses he laughed so hard. Jumping down from the buggy seat, he slapped his hat against his thigh. “We might as well stretch our legs,” he said between whoops. “Girl, you haven’t changed a whit.”
She loved Isaac for his bushy beard and his laugh so loud it scared the birds from the trees. He was like having her daddy near. And he believed in her, she knew, just like her daddy always did. Surely she hadn’t forgotten how to scrub a house with lye soap, and as for her garden, there was always next year.
There is no place akin to the mountains in the springtime. Redbuds and dogwoods dotted the landscape like cones of cotton candy, and every time a soft breeze blew, petals showered the buggy with fragrant rain. Copper’s stomach knotted with anticipation as the miles passed.
Finally, the place dearer to her than any other began to make itself known. “There’s the big rock!” she shouted to Isaac as if he didn’t know. “There’s the swimming hole!”
Soon—soon—just around the bend and down the narrow lane. She could barely keep herself in the buggy, and Lilly Gray protested when she hugged her too hard. Her heart beat fast, her breath quickened, and there it was! Oh, Lord, thank You, she prayed. Thank You for keeping this place for me.
Somehow the overgrown farmland she’d expected was not what greeted them. Instead the fencerows were clean, and the cabin looked much like she had left it. As they passed by the garden, she could see little hills of potatoes and green shoots of corn.
“I don’t understand,” she said, turning to Isaac. “It looks like someone is living here.”
“It had to be Brother Jasper,” Isaac replied. “I let him know you were coming home. He must have sent some of his congregation over to clean things up.”
Copper clasped her hands to her chest. “This is wonderful. What a beautiful homecoming. Take Lilly Gray, please. I can’t wait to get inside.”
For the first time since Simon died, Copper slept the night through. The crowing of somebody’s rooster woke her at sunrise.
A fire was laid in the woodstove, and she lit it to brew coffee. When it was ready, she poured a cup and stepped barefoot onto the split-log porch. Everything was the same right down to the granite bucket and dipper on the shelf and the rocking chairs under the windows. The burble of Troublesome Creek called to her in the distance. She went back in to check on Lilly and pull the blanket up over her shoulders.
Lilly burrowed under, her lovey close beside. She’d sleep another hour or two.
Fog hung in the air and swirled like long gray ribbons when Copper walked into its midst. With every breath, she savored the taste and the scent of the mountains: coal smoke and clay dirt and shale rock. Her chilled feet found the familiar path. Troublesome Creek was as beautiful as she remembered—clear as window glass with a music that soothed her soul. Stooping, she cupped the water and drank until it spilled down her chin. Cold as it was, she could have bathed in it.
Her soul spilled over. “‘The Lord is my shepherd,’” she said from memory, “‘I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.’”
Just as she had found her way through the fog to the creek, she would find her way in life. Later she and Lilly Gray would decide where along the creek to plant Simon’s willow.
Copper had been gone just minutes, and the coffee was still hot. Thankful for Lilly’s sleeping, she settled in a rocker with her cup. Perhaps she’d sit here on the porch all day taking it in. Home.
The sun warmed a notch, burning off the fog. A familiar shape materialized. A cow? Forevermore, a cow lost in the fog? Setting the cup on the floor, she leaned forward as if her eyes were playing tricks.
“Thought you might be needing this.” A deep voice startled her. She wasn’t dressed for company.
“I beg your pardon,” she said.
“I heard you was coming home, Pest. I knew you’d be wanting a cow.”
“John?” Could it be her dear friend? “John Pelfrey?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. “I thought you were long gone.”
“I been back a spell, farming the home place and chunking coal.” He stood at the edge of the porch, the rope that tethered the cow in his hand. “I was right sorry to hear about your husband. He was a good man.”
“I know,” she replied. “Thank you.” The least little bit of sympathy and tears started again. She’d hoped to leave them behind. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Is it as good as your mam used to make?”
“Probably not, but it’s hot.”
“All right then. I’ll get this one to the stable first.” He turned and started off, then paused to look back over his shoulder, taking her measure with the green eyes she remembered. “You’ll like her. She’s a good milker.”
From somewhere the rooster crowed again, refusing to give up the dawn. Sunlight streamed across the yard and each tree; each blade of grass was bathed in its golden light. Lilly Gray called from her crib. The cow’s hips swayed as John led her across the lot to the barn.
Copper Brown Corbett was home, and she was thankful.
Jan Watson, award-winning author of eight historical novels, is a retired registered nurse. Chosen Best Kentucky Author of 2012 by Kentucky Living magazine, Jan also won the 2004 Christian Writers Guild Operation First Novel contest and took second place in the 2006 Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award contest sponsored by the Faith, Hope, and Love Chapter of the Romance Writers of America. Troublesome Creek was also a nominee for the Kentucky Literary Awards in 2006. Willow Springs was selected for Library Journal’s Best Genre Fiction category. Jan lives in Lexington, Kentucky, near her three sons and daughter-in-law.
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And don’t miss the sequel to Skip Rock Shallows!
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Troublesome Creek
Willow Springs
Torrent Falls
Sweetwater Run
Still House Pond
Skip Rock Shallows
Tattler’s Branch
Buttermilk Sky
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Visit Jan’s website at janwatson.net.
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