Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Tolly figured not. A little water never hurt nobody. He pinched his beard and gave the boy a head-to-toe look. He’d seen this one somewhere before. “You ain’t stayin’ at the hotel with yo’ family, is you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You live somewheres ’round here?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  This was one tongue-tied youngster. If he didn’t have something to hide, Tolly would turn cartwheels for the next batch of guests. Wouldn’t that be a sight to behold? Balling his hands on his hips, Tolly barked in his sternest voice, “You’d best not be sneakin’ ’round, thinkin’ you’re gonna go explorin’ in the cave. Mistuh Janin, he cracks down hard on them who don’t pay fo’ tickets.”

  The boy’s head snapped up. “I’m not going to sneak into the cave. I came for a job.”

  “A job, huh? Doin’ what?”

  “Being a guide.”

  Tolly snorted. He couldn’t help it. This one looked scared of his own shadow. And he wanted to take folks through dark caverns and narrow passageways where spiders crept along the walls and bats swooped out of nowhere? “You must be joshin’ me.”

  The boy bit his lower lip and blinked several times. If Tolly wasn’t mistaken, the kid was trying not to cry. This was one peculiar boy. But the reaction stirred Tolly’s sympathy. The Lord called on His followers to be loving to folks, and Tolly tried to follow well. He gentled his tone. “How you know we’s needin’ anothuh guide?”

  “The cook—Mr. Cooper—told me so.”

  Just like that Tolly knew who stood before him. Not a boy at all, but the oldest of the Hardin girls, the one who delivered mushrooms to the hotel kitchen, the one who’d fallen across the new grave and—

  His knees went weak, and he turned his face away so she wouldn’t see the moisture filling his eyes. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget finding her brother crumpled like a pile of rags at the bottom of a ravine. He’d never forget this girl’s sorrow. Hadn’t he vowed then and there to do whatever he could to help the family? But he hadn’t got the chance. Not until now.

  “All right…boy. What be yo’ name?”

  “Reb—” She gulped. “Reb Hardin.”

  Least she hadn’t straight-out lied to him. But what should he do? Trekking through the cave could be treacherous. A guide had to keep the folks who were taking the tour safe. Safe from the cave. Safe from themselves. In every group there was one or two who thought they’d be just fine exploring on their own. If somebody got stubborn on her, this slip of a girl wouldn’t have much authority.

  He ought to snatch the sorry-looking old hat off her head. Let her know he saw right through her pretense. Send her back to her mama. But that family must be hurting. Hurting over their loss. Lawd Almighty, what’m I s’posed to tell this here gal?

  He jerked his attention to the girl who stood in the morning sunshine all decked out in men’s gear. “You got any experience in cavin’?”

  She shrugged. “There’s a cave on our property. Just a small one. But I’m in and out of it nearly every day.”

  “You ain’t squeamish ’bout spiders an’ such?”

  Her face went white and she grimaced. But quick as a firefly’s flash she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m a lot bigger than they are.”

  Tolly laughed. Her adamant statement didn’t match the disgust on her face. “That’s true enough.” He looked her up and down again. Tall compared to most girls, coming all the way to his chin. But scrawny as a beanpole. Still, she had tenacity. He saw it in the tilt of her chin and the way she stood without fidgeting while he took his going-over. And even after her brother got lost and died in the cave, she was still willing to go on in and traipse around. So she must be braver than she looked.

  He stared straight in her eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “Why you want to be a guide?”

  Her chin quivered briefly. “I need the money.”

  “What fo’?” If she said something frivolous, he’d send her home, no matter how much he owed the family.

  “To buy a decent headstone.”

  Tolly swallowed hard. “Who that stone be fo’?”

  She swallowed, too. “My mama.”

  He squinted at her. Far as he knew, her mama was still living. “You sure?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Maybe her mama was sick, even at death’s door. I gots to help this family, Lawd. What would You have me do? On the tail of his prayer came the answer. He’d keep this one safe while she earned a wage. And he’d finally get to repair his dented conscience at the same time. Still, he wouldn’t break any rules.

  He barked, “Guides gotta be at least eighteen years old. How old’re you?”

  “Twenty last February.”

  So he could tell Mr. Janin she was old enough. He pushed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Lemme tell you somethin’, Reb Hardin. I growed up right here at Mammoth Cave. Been trailin’ my pappy through the tunnels from the time I was big enough to leave crawlin’ behind—more’n fifty years now. Seein’ as how I’s right at home in the cave, Mr. Janin put me in charge of assignin’ guides an’ helpuhs.”

  Her eyes widened. Her lips turned white around the edges. He was scaring her—making her worry. But she didn’t turn away from him.

  “See, we never send only one guide in with a group. One leads ’em all, an’ anothuh goes behind, makes sure they all stay togethuh. I’s a lead guide. You’d be goin’ behind. So you’d be a helpuh, not a guide.” He narrowed his gaze. “You still thinkin’ you want the job?”

  She nodded so fast he was surprised she didn’t lose her old, battered hat.

  “All right then. I’ll let Mr. Janin know to add Reb Hardin to the books.”

  Her face lit. “When do I start?”

  He scratched his cheek. He could use her today. He’d taken a group by himself yesterday and spent the whole tour nervous as a cat with deaf kittens, worrying somebody might fall behind. But it’d take a day or so to get everything squared away with Mr. Janin. And he ought to take her on the tour by herself a time or two before trusting her with guests. “Come back tomorruh mo’nin’, but meet me at the mouth o’ the cave. You an’ me’ll follow the trail by our lonesome—get you familiar wit’ the short tour since that’s the one I lead. Soon as I think you’s ready to keep a group movin’, you’ll start drawin’ the wage.”

  “I’ll be there at daybreak tomorrow.”

  “You’ll be there all by yo’self ’cause I’s gonna eat my breakfast fuhst.”

  “Yes, sir.” She thrust her hand at him. “Thank you.”

  He shook her hand. “You’s welcome.” He pulled in a breath. If she was a boy, her cheeks wouldn’t still be smooth as silk at twenty. He gripped her hand hard and lowered his voice so nobody would overhear. “Reb, on yo’ way ovuh here tomorrow, stop along the road an’ smear some dirt on yo’ face. Seein’ as how there ain’t no othuh way fo’ you to have a whisker shadow like othuh…fellas…yo’ age.”

  Rebekah

  The shrewd glimmer in the older black man’s eyes sped Rebekah’s pulse. She yanked her hand from his tight grasp and pressed her palm to her chest. “You—you know?”

  He gave a slow nod, his dark eyes never shifting away from hers.

  “How?”

  “Kinda hard to fo’get somebody you seen sobbin’ ovuh her brothuh’s grave.”

  Rebekah stepped back, memories rising up to taunt her.

  “But, Reb?” He pinned her with a serious look. “I don’t aim to let it make no diff’rence.”

  She gazed at him in open-mouthed amazement. He’d still hire her?

  As if he’d heard her inner question, he bobbed his head and spoke in a low, raspy voice. “I reckon I owe ya.”

  “Why?”

  His dark eyes narrowed, his lips went tight for a moment. “I know that cave like the back o’ my hand. When yo’ brothuh went wanderin’ an’ got hisself lost, I knowed I’d be able to find him wherevuh he landed, so
I promised yo’ mammy I’d bring her boy out. An’ I did. But not alive like she expected me to.” He sighed again, his shoulders rising and falling as if he tried to dislodge a mighty weight. “No ’mount o’ money’ll bring yo’ brothuh back again. But if it’ll ease yo’ family’s burdens fo’ you to earn money fo’ a headstone, then I can sign you on.”

  Mr. Sandford’s kindness astounded her. His sense of responsibility humbled her. She swallowed a knot of worry. “You—you won’t get into trouble, will you, if other folks figure out I’m not a boy?”

  A smile rounded his full cheeks and painted starbursts at the corners of his eyes. “See now, here’s the thing. Ain’t no writ-down rule that says only fellas can be guides. Oh, now, we allus done it that way. Just makes good sense. Whole lot easier to move ’round in there with britches on ’stead o’ skirts. Folks is more likely to listen if some man tell them to stay on the trail. So it’d be best to have you gussyin’ up like a fella ’stead of a girl. But I ain’t breakin’ no rule. Othuhwise I wouldn’t take you on. But like I says, I owes yo’ family.”

  He tipped his head to the side and seemed to study her. “Did ya know guides live right here on the estate?” He gestured to the row of cabins. “Hank Dauber—he’s the one who took sick ovuh the wintuh an’ done passed just last week—lived in that’n next to mine. Now it’s sittin’ there empty. Mr. Janin’ll prob’ly tell you to move in.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t considered living away from home. What would Daddy say? “Um, do I have to?”

  Mr. Sandford’s forehead puckered. “I reckon not, but it’ll make things a mite easier on ya, not havin’ to go back an’ forth. An’ the pay’s twelve dollahs a month plus victuals. Almost seems like throwin’ away part o’ yo’ pay if you don’t stay on the grounds, take yo’ meals an’ such here.” He leaned in, waggling his eyebrows. “Place o’ yo’ own. Three meals a day. Ol’ Coop, he’s a right fine cook. You won’t go hungry.”

  Rebekah nibbled her lip. If she didn’t eat at home, it would mean more food going into her sisters’ bellies. The thought of a whole cabin to herself appealed to her. And frightened her, too. Sharing a room with so many others, she’d often yearned for privacy, but she’d never been completely alone. Would she pine for her parents and sisters?

  He patted her on the shoulder. “You think on it. But to ease yo’ mind, the guides an’ helpuhs, they’s all trustwuhthy men. You don’t gots to worry about any of ’em pesterin’ ya. ’Specially with me so close.” He stepped up on the cabin’s stoop and waved his arm at her, the way Mama tried to shoo the chickens when they followed too close on her heels. “You skedaddle now—go tell yo’ pappy ’bout yo’ new job.” He closed the door behind him.

  Rebekah stood for several minutes, absorbing everything Mr. Sandford had told her. He wanted her to keep wearing britches, and it didn’t matter that she wasn’t a boy. The job included a cabin all to herself and three meals a day cooked by somebody else, and best of all it paid twelve dollars a month. Her pulse stuttered and her mouth went dry. Twelve dollars? She’d never seen twelve dollars in one place before. Her mind scrambled through the things they could do with so much money.

  Eagerness to tell Daddy about their good fortune propelled her feet into motion. She dashed through the woods for home.

  Rebekah

  Rebekah burst from the thick growth behind their small field and half jogged, half stumbled across the uneven ground to her father. “Daddy! Daddy!”

  He jerked his gaze in her direction. His body jolted. He brought the hand plow to a stop and gaped at her. “Re—Rebekah? Is that you, gal?”

  She’d forgotten about her clothes. With a laugh she popped Great-Granddaddy’s hat from her head. Her hair spilled around her shoulders. She threw her arms wide. “It’s me!” Her chest ached and her muscles quivered from her run through the woods, but she couldn’t resist spinning a circle that made her tangled locks fly out like the skirt on a woman’s fancy ball dress.

  Daddy caught her arm and gave a firm yank that halted her dance and sent Great-Granddaddy’s hat rolling across the ground. He bounced his gaze up and down her frame, his face flushing red and his eyes snapping with fury. “What do you think you’re doin’ paradin’ around like that? Has Nell seen you?”

  She’d expected surprise. Maybe even curiosity. But his anger stunned her so thoroughly she lost her ability to think clearly. She stared at him mutely.

  “I asked you a question, gal!”

  She frantically gathered up her hair and braided it while she answered. “No, Daddy. Nobody’s seen me. Well, except for you and Tolly Sandford at the cave estate.”

  Daddy’s jaw dropped. “You went to the cave dressed like…like that? Where’d you get those clothes?”

  Rebekah hung her head and dug one toe in the ground. “From Andy’s trunk.”

  He grabbed her chin and lifted her face. His fingers bit into her skin and his glare pierced her heart. “Gal, you better start explainin’ yourself ’cause I’m about to come undone like I ain’t come undone since Cissy went swimmin’ in the altogether with the Davis boys.”

  Rebekah gulped. She wasn’t ten years old like Cissy had been, so it wasn’t likely Daddy would cut a switch, but seeing him so angry made her stomach tremble. How she hated displeasing him. “R-remember last night at supper I told you I’d need to go back to the cave today because I didn’t get to see the estate manager?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, Mr. Cooper—he’s the cook for the hotel—told me the only job open was for a guide. And that the guides are always men. So I figured to get a job there I’d have to be a”—she gulped again—“man.”

  Daddy dropped his hand and took a step back. “So you stole clothes from your brother’s trunk an’ lit out early this mornin’ like some sneaky thief.” His flat voice didn’t hide his disapproval. The words stung worse than any switch could.

  Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t think of it as stealing.”

  He drew his hand down his face. He stared outward, somewhere beyond her shoulder. Suddenly he seemed very old and very, very tired. “Gal, I always thought you was the sensible one o’ the lot. Now I’m wonderin’ if you got any sense at all.”

  She jolted forward and grabbed his arm. “Daddy, listen. Mr. Sandford—you remember him, he found Andy in…in the cave. He saw right off that I’m a girl. But he hired me anyway. He said there’s no rule against a girl being a guide, but I’d need to wear britches because it’s safer for me when I’m taking people on tours. And he said the guides get paid twelve dollars a month. Twelve whole dollars, Daddy! Why, you’d have the money for Andy’s marker in no time at all.”

  Daddy’s stony expression didn’t change.

  Rebekah went on as if he’d expressed enthusiasm. “Guess what else? I get to live right there on the estate in my own little cabin and eat my meals at the hotel. So all the money they pay me can go right to you and Mama.” She waited several minutes, but he didn’t look at her. Didn’t say anything. She wrung her hands. “I’m supposed to go back again tomorrow morning so Mr. Sandford can show me through the cave, get me familiar with the tour. But I won’t go if you”—she pulled in a breath, almost afraid to finish her sentence—“tell me I can’t.”

  Slowly Daddy shifted his gaze until his blue eyes met hers. “How old are you now, gal?”

  “Twenty, Daddy.”

  He looked down, shaking his head. “A woman growed, for sure.”

  For reasons she didn’t understand, the statement made her want to cry.

  “Old enough to choose to marry up or not. Old enough to decide to take a job…or not.”

  He was letting her choose. She dove at him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Despite the chill morning air, the bib of his striped twill overalls was warm beneath her cheek. He already smelled of sweat and soil—better than any dandy’s cologne. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  He caught her by the arms and set her aside. “But you ain’t gonna go to work in your brother’s cl
othes. If your mama sees you comin’ up the yard in Andy’s shirt an’ britches, she’ll likely faint dead away. So you change into a dress, gal, you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then head over to the preacher’s house. Well-meanin’ ladies from the city churches are always sendin’ barrels o’ clothes for us poor folks. Ask to pick through the barrels an’ find some shirts an’ britches an’ such. Leave those things you’re wearin’ now in the toolshed. I’ll see they get put back in Andy’s trunk.”

  Rebekah nodded. “I’ll do that. And, Daddy?” Unblinking, she gazed into his weary face. “I’m sorry I made you angry. I only wanted to help.”

  He grabbed her in a hug so tight it stole her breath. “I know, gal. I know. But when I seen you come runnin’ that way, for a minute I thought—” He gulped. His hold tightened briefly, then he patted her shoulders and let her go. “Make sure your mama doesn’t see you in that getup. Not so sure her heart could take it.”

  Cissy

  She couldn’t take it! Cissy smacked the plates onto the table. How unfair that Rebekah got to take a job at the cave. Plus, starting tomorrow, she’d be staying at the estate, not even coming home to help ready the little girls for bed or get them up in the morning or help with first-thing and last-thing chores every day. So who’d be stuck with all that? Cissy, that’s who. She stomped one bare foot against the floorboards and growled under her breath.

  “What’s the matter, Cissy?” Tabitha looked up from laying out the spoons and forks. “Your foot go to sleep?”

  Cissy scowled at her sister. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  “You done this.” Tabitha imitated her foot-stomp. “I do that when my foot’s gone to sleep. Wakes it up again. Did your—”

  “Just shut up, Tabby.”

  The little girl’s brown eyes flew wide. “You ain’t s’posed to say ‘shut up.’ Mama’ll put lye soap on your tongue when I tell her.”

  Cissy rounded the table in a flash and grabbed Tabitha by one of her braids. “You better not tell, you little brat, or I’ll put spiders in your nightgown while you’re sleepin’.” Tabitha was more scared of spiders than anything. Except maybe of Cissy.