The Princess Club / Family Secrets / Mountain Madness

by Catherine Marshall

  She looked directly at Ruby Mae and her two friends. They nodded obediently.

  “Now I believe, when we were interrupted, we were about to discuss the difference between frogs and toads,” Christy said. She held up Prince Egbert. “To begin with, a frog has smooth skin and long limbs. Can anyone tell me any other differences? Creed? How about you?”

  Creed didn’t answer. He was staring at Ruby Mae and her friends, eyes wide.

  Christy scanned the room. Not a single student was looking at her. All eyes were glued to the three smug “princesses,” as if they really were royalty.

  In a way, Christy realized suddenly, here in Cutter Gap, that’s just what they were. From now on, nothing in her classroom would be the same.

  Five

  I now declare the first official meeting of The Princess Club is a-startin’,” Ruby Mae announced after school.

  The three girls were outside the small shed that David had built to house Prince; Goldie, Miss Alice’s palomino mare; and Old Theo, the mule. Ruby Mae was carefully brushing Prince’s glossy flanks. Clara was scratching his ears. And Bessie was feeding him a carrot from Miss Ida’s vegetable garden.

  “Before we start,” Clara said in a whisper, “check all around to make sure we wasn’t followed.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Clara.” Ruby Mae rolled her eyes. “Ain’t nobody followin’ us. You’re actin’ jittery as a squirrel with a hungry hound on his tail.”

  “Wouldn’t need to,” Clara shot back, “if’n you coulda kept your mouth shut. I heard Lundy talkin’ after school, sayin’ how he was going to figure out where we found the gold and get some of his own.”

  Bessie gulped. “And you know Lundy. He’d as soon steal it as find it his own self.”

  “Listen here, you two lily-livers.” Ruby Mae could tell she was going to have to be stern with her friends if she wanted any peace. “People was goin’ to find out about the gold, one way or the other. You told your parents, right?”

  Both girls nodded.

  “Well, how long do you think a secret like that’s goin’ to keep here in the Cove?” She moved to Prince’s other side and began brushing his silky mane. “Remember that time Violet McKnapp run off with Elroy Smith to get hitched? Remember how she only told Mary Allen and made her promise not to tell a soul?”

  “Yep,” Bessie said.

  “Well, how long do you figure that secret lasted? A day, maybe two? Our secret is a whole lot bigger than Violet’s.”

  “I s’pose you’re right,” Bessie admitted. “It’s plumb unnatural for a secret like ours to stay a secret. People bein’ how they is.”

  “And people’s mouths bein’ as big as they is,” Clara added, glaring at Ruby Mae.

  “There ain’t no use snifflin’ about spilled milk.” Ruby Mae set down her brush and gave Prince a hug. “Besides, we got things to talk about. Princess Club things.”

  Ruby Mae hopped onto the slat fence and motioned for the others to join her. “Let’s do our meetin’ here. Nice and proper-like.”

  “I ain’t never been a member in an actual club before,” Bessie said excitedly.

  “You ain’t never had a reason to be special before,” Ruby Mae pointed out.

  Clara cleared her throat. “I think the first thing we should do is figure out what we’re a-goin’ to do with the gold. Pa says we got to take it to the bank and split it up three ways, nice and fair, Morrisons and Spencers and Coburns. But part of the road to El Pano’s blocked by a rockslide. That’s why Mr. Pentland hasn’t brought mail in so long. So it’ll likely be awhile before we can go to the bank.”

  “It’ll be fine with Miz Christy,” Ruby Mae said. “’Course, I’d feel better if’n it was in a nice, safe bank.”

  “I think Pa wants to build us a better house with the cash-money,” Clara said. “Maybe one with real floors instead of dirt.”

  Ruby Mae nodded. “It’s true the grown-ups will have their own ideas about what to do with all the cash-money. But I figure we found it, so we oughta get to spend some of it. Besides, there’ll be plenty to go around.”

  “I want to buy me a dress all frilly and puffy, with silk ribbons,” Bessie said in a faraway voice.

  “And I want to get me a horse of my own,” Ruby Mae said. “I love Prince, but I got to share him with the preacher. My horse’ll be the color of gold, with a white star on his head. And faster than the wind!”

  “And I want—” Suddenly Clara stopped. The sound of someone whistling floated on the air. “Everyone hush!” she instructed.

  “It might be Lundy, or one of the other big boys, come to find out about the gold,” Bessie whispered.

  “I told you we should have made sure we weren’t followed!” Clara said. “People get mighty greedy when they hear the word ‘gold.’”

  Just then, a lone figure emerged from the woods. He had a large belly and a red beard. On his back, the man carried a strange-looking black contraption with long wooden legs. Behind him trudged a gray mule laden with packs. The mule seemed to be limping.

  When the man noticed the girls, he waved and turned in their direction.

  “Wonder what a stranger’s doin’ in these parts,” Bessie murmured.

  “Flatlander, I’ll bet,” Clara said. “He looks lost. Whatever you do,” she added under her breath, “not a word about the gold, Ruby Mae Morrison!”

  “I ain’t entirely feeble-minded, thank you kindly,” Ruby Mae snapped.

  “Ho, young ladies!” the man called as he neared. “What luck to find you. Where exactly am I, if you don’t mind my asking?” He wiped his brow with a white handkerchief. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

  “Lordamercy, you must be lost!” Ruby Mae exclaimed.

  “Most folks who end up in Cutter Gap aim to come here on purpose,” Clara added. “Or they was born here and don’t know no way to get out.”

  “Cutter Gap,” the man repeated, chuckling. “Well, I’ll be.” He patted his mule on the head. “Seems we’re a bit lost, Clancy, old fellow.”

  “It’s easy to get lost in the mountains if you’re a city fellow,” Bessie said kindly.

  The man pointed to the mission house. “And whose house might that be?”

  “That’s the mission house,” Bessie said. “So I s’pose it belongs to the Lord, in a manner of speakin’. But He’s lettin’ Miz Christy and Miz Ida borrow it.”

  “You suppose I might find a bite to eat there? Clancy and I have been wandering these lovely mountains for weeks, and I haven’t seen a home-cooked meal in all that time. He’s pulled up lame, poor guy. Slipped on a rock near a creek awhile back. Thought he was better, but he’s been favoring that hind foot today.”

  “Creek?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “Up on the west face of that mountain,” he said, pointing past Ruby Mae’s shoulder. “By the way, name’s Grady Halliday.”

  “I’m Ruby Mae, and this here’s Bessie and Clara.”

  “What’s that strange thingamajig you’re carryin’?” Clara asked.

  “This, my dear, is a camera. The finest made. I’m a photographer by trade.”

  Bessie frowned. “You mean a picture-taker?”

  “Indeed. Although I don’t take pictures of people. Not anymore.”

  “What else is there?” Clara asked.

  Mr. Halliday swept his hand through the air. “Why, all this, my dear. Nature itself. These grand mountains. These majestic trees. Flowers. Streams. Rocks.”

  “You take pictures of rocks?” Ruby Mae cried. “I never heard of such a plumb fool thing!”

  “Yes, it is a foolish occupation,” Mr. Halliday agreed. “Which is probably why I’m such a happy man.”

  “You say you’ve been up in the mountains for weeks?” Clara asked.

  “Took a little longer than I’d planned,” Mr. Halliday said. He pursed his lips. “Got a little sidetracked, looking for something . . . important. But as they say, fortune is fickle . . .”

  “Can�
�t say as I understand your meanin’,” Ruby Mae said, scratching her head.

  Mr. Halliday shrugged. “No matter. Now, if you’ll provide the introductions, I’d be most appreciative if you could escort me to the mission house.”

  “I’ll feed Prince,” Ruby Mae said. “You all go on ahead. It’s almost time for supper.”

  Mr. Halliday nodded. “So nice to make your acquaintance, Ruby Mae.”

  Ruby Mae watched as Bessie and Clara, who were staying for supper, led Mr. Halliday to the mission house. She wondered what it was he’d been looking for, up there in the woods. She wondered where Clancy had gone lame. Could it have been near Dead Man’s Creek?

  “Nice to make your acquaintance,” he’d said. Fancy talk, when a simple good-bye would have done just fine.

  He seemed nice enough, but Ruby Mae couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she was going to be very sorry to have made Mr. Halliday’s acquaintance.

  Six

  My, my, I never dreamed when I happened upon your mission house that I’d be met with such a welcoming committee!” Mr. Halliday exclaimed as he settled into a chair in the parlor two hours later. “And I must say again, that was the finest piece of apple pie I’ve ever had the pleasure of devouring!”

  Miss Ida, David’s sister, handed him a cup of tea. “It’s an honor to have you as a visitor, Mr. Halliday.”

  “Miss Ida’s right,” Christy said. “Imagine us hosting a man who’s photographed the Wright brothers and Ty Cobb and even President Taft himself!”

  “No longer, Christy. My professional days are past. I met many interesting folks along the way. A few scoundrels, too, come to think of it. I worked hard and made plenty of money. Now I take the photographs I want to take. Mountains are much more interesting subjects than people. Sit still longer, too.”

  “How long can you stay, Mr. Halliday?” Miss Alice asked.

  “Oh, I can’t impose. Just until Clancy heals up.”

  “You should know that the road to El Pano is blocked,” David said. “Rockslide. Happens all the time in these parts.”

  “I’m headed in that general direction,” Mr. Halliday said. “But I don’t mind a detour or two. I enjoy stopping here and there to say hello. People around these parts strike me as the salt of the earth. Decent, kind. If a little shy.”

  “They are fine people,” Miss Alice agreed, “despite their hard lives.”

  Mr. Halliday nodded sympathetically. There was a kindness about him that had made Christy instantly like him. Everyone seemed to like him, in fact—except, perhaps, Ruby Mae and her friends, who hardly said a word during supper. And now they seemed to have vanished from the house.

  “I’ve encountered such poverty in these hills,” Mr. Halliday said. “You have your work cut out for you.”

  “Poverty, but dignity, too,” Christy said. “When I first came here, the hunger and ignorance and pain really frightened me. But then I started to see the goodness in these people.”

  “I’m sure life here can be very trying,” Mr. Halliday said. “Living without hope is a hard thing indeed.”

  “Of course, hope can turn up in unlikely places,” Christy said. “For example, the bottom of a creek.”

  “A creek, you say?”

  “It seems Ruby Mae and the other girls you met came upon some gold nuggets the other day.”

  Mr. Halliday went very still. He cast a sharp glance at Christy. “Some . . . gold?” he repeated softly.

  “We’d hoped to keep it quiet, but of course the whole Cove’s abuzz with the news,” Christy said.

  “The prospect of that kind of wealth,” Miss Alice added, “in a place like Cutter Gap—well, you can imagine the excitement it’s kindled.”

  “Indeed,” Mr. Halliday said.

  David grinned. “Ruby Mae told me she hopes to buy a companion for our horse Prince.”

  “A friend for Prince?” Mr. Halliday echoed.

  “She’s quite the horse buff, you see.”

  “And Clara’s even talking about going to medical school,” Christy said. “Of course, their parents will have their own plans for the money.”

  Mr. Halliday set down his teacup. The china rattled slightly. “Yes,” he said, “I imagine they would.”

  “Naturally, we’re all curious as to where the gold came from,” Miss Alice said. “After all, Tennessee isn’t exactly known for its gold mining. And the nuggets had to come from somewhere.”

  Mr. Halliday nodded slowly. “Well,” he said, “you know what the Bible says—‘With God all things are possible.’” His voice trailed off.

  “It’s quite possible someone will still show up to claim the gold,” David said. Then he shook his head. “But I’d certainly hate to be the one to deliver that news to Ruby Mae and her friends.”

  Mr. Halliday stared out the window, stroking his beard. For the first time since his arrival, he’d fallen silent.

  “Mr. Halliday?” Christy asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  Mr. Halliday waved his hand. “Of course. Just a little tired, after all my wandering.”

  For a moment, Christy wondered if she should have mentioned anything to Mr. Halliday about the gold. Something about the sharp way he’d looked at her made her uneasy . . . especially since the nuggets were hidden right here in the mission house.

  On the other hand, he was bound to hear about them, anyway. If he was going to be staying here at the mission, Ruby Mae would tell him soon enough.

  One thing was certain. Christy was going to feel much better when the gold was safely locked in that bank safe in El Pano.

  She was a teacher, after all, not a banker.

  From her perch on the stairs, Ruby Mae listened to the grownups talking in the parlor. Bessie and Clara sat on the stair below her. They’d been eavesdropping for what seemed like hours. And the more they listened, the more Ruby Mae wished they hadn’t.

  She had a bad feeling growing in her stomach faster than a spring weed. She didn’t like bad feelings. And she didn’t like feeling confused.

  Mr. Halliday had been looking for something, he’d said.

  Mr. Halliday had been near a rocky creek when Clancy had gone lame.

  Mr. Halliday was the kind of man who might have lots of cash-money. Maybe even gold.

  Clara sighed loudly. “It just don’t make any sense, Ruby Mae. If’n the gold belongs to Mr. Halliday, why didn’t he just up and say something when Miz Christy told him about it just now?”

  “Come to think of it, he did sound a little funny when she brought it up,” Bessie said. Her eyes went wide. “I have an idea. . . .”

  “Uh-oh,” Ruby Mae said.

  “Maybe he stole the gold, and that’s why he can’t own up to it!”

  “Or maybe we’re just imagining things,” Ruby Mae said. “Maybe it ain’t his gold at all.”

  “Still,” Clara continued, “he could have been up near Dead Man’s Creek. And he was lookin’ for somethin’. It is kind of a . . . what’s the word Miz Christy taught us? A coincidence.”

  “He had his chance to claim the gold just now,” Ruby Mae argued. She hated it when Clara got to thinking too much.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Clara said, chewing on a fingernail thoughtfully.

  “’Course I’m right.”

  “So then where did the gold come from?” Clara asked.

  “You heard Mr. Halliday. Maybe God put it there for us to find. Like a miracle. You don’t go askin’ questions about miracles, Clara. You just say ‘Thank you kindly’ and feel mighty grateful.”

  “How come you happen to know so much about miracles?” Bessie asked.

  “Because I been prayin’ for one my whole life, that’s how come.” Ruby Mae stood, brushing off her dress. “Besides, it don’t matter who the gold used to belong to. It’s ours now. Finders, keepers. That’s the rule.”

  “Finders, keepers,” Clara repeated, as if she were trying to convince herself.

&
nbsp; “Trust me,” Ruby Mae said. “That gold was meant for us to have.”

  Seven

  When Ruby Mae went down to breakfast the next morning, she was surprised to find Mr. Halliday sitting in the parlor, staring down at the floor. Photographs lay at his feet like a strange, patchwork carpet.

  “Good morning, Ruby Mae!” Mr. Halliday said cheerfully.

  “Did you take all these pictures?” Ruby Mae asked in amazement.

  “Oh, this is just the tip of the iceberg.” Mr. Halliday hooked his thumbs in his suspenders, contemplating the floor. “I was just trying to sort the wheat from the chaff, if you know what I mean.”

  “Can’t say as I do.”

  “It means I’m trying to pick out the good photographs from the not-so-good ones. There are things to consider, like composition. That’s the way the parts of a picture all fit together.”

  Ruby Mae knelt down. She examined a picture of an evergreen tree. “I like this one,” she said. “It’s not like you’re just lookin’ at any ol’ tree. It’s like you’re lookin’ at the tree and up at the sky, too. Like the tree and the sky are hitched up together.”

  “You’ve got a good eye,” Mr. Halliday said.

  “Factually speaking, both my eyes work just fine.”

  Mr. Halliday gave a hearty laugh. “No, no. That’s a way of saying you look at the world like an artist.”

  “I don’t mind drawin’,” Ruby Mae said, moving to another picture of a waterfall, “when Miz Christy’s got pencils and paper for us, which ain’t often. But truth to tell, I’d rather be ridin’.”

  “Ah, yes. The reverend mentioned you’re quite an avid horsewoman.” Mr. Halliday paused, as if he were about to say something, then seemed to reconsider.

  “Ruby Mae!” Miss Ida called from the kitchen.

  Ruby Mae stood. “Well, I got to go set the table for breakfast or Miss Ida’ll have my head.” As she turned to leave, she noticed a fat book near Mr. Halliday’s chair. “What’s that? I ain’t never seen such a big book before!”

  “That,” Mr. Halliday replied, “is the Sears Roebuck catalog. I was thumbing through it for supplies. You’ve never seen it before?”