Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  From back here she couldn’t see Tolly, but his voice echoed against the tight walls and low ceiling. “See them ripples on the wall there? They’s as smooth an’ shiny as silk, don’tcha think? Years an’ years of watuh runnin’ down the rock an’ leavin’ minerals behind is what done it. Yessuh, the good Lawd don’t leave no bit o’ His creation, not even the parts clear down deep in the earth, untouched by beauty.”

  She listened close. If his words dropped so low she couldn’t hear him, she knew to hurry the visitors. After a month of following the same course two times a day, she could guide people out without his help, if need be, but she didn’t want to lose Tolly. He hadn’t needed to warn her about going into the cave alone.

  Remembering how Andy went in by himself and got carried out, draped over Tolly’s arms, was enough to make her stay close at all times. She wouldn’t put Mama and Daddy through the heartache of another Hardin child lost in the cave.

  Somewhere in the middle of the group, Devlin Bale was also listening. She hadn’t expected to see him on the Friday afternoon tour since he’d only just arrived, but apparently he was eager to see the cave. Was he as fascinated by the winding tunnels, the mineral formations, the odd sightless creatures as she had been the first time Tolly brought her into the tunnels? She hoped so. She didn’t know why she wanted him to appreciate and marvel at the cave’s majesty, but she wanted him to see it the way she did so badly it created an ache in the center of her chest as real as the ache in her shoulder.

  She squinted against the glaring torch and watched the guests’ bobbing heads. If somebody fell behind or started to wander off, she needed to be ready. She longed to examine the cave walls where people from years past—maybe even Andy—had left marks behind, but duty beckoned. When she, Tolly, and the college student who intended to draft a new map of the caves came in on their own, she’d be able to explore more deeply. For now, she needed to pay attention to the guests.

  The group rounded the bend leading to Gothic Avenue, and Rebekah quickly switched hands.

  Tolly’s throaty commentary drifted from up ahead. “Any of y’all thinkin’ o’ gettin’ hitched? How ’bout you two ovuh there? You look to be a likely pair.” Laughter rolled through the group, and Rebekah couldn’t help smiling. Tolly gave the same spiel every time, and she could imagine him pointing out a fellow and gal from the crowd to tease.

  The tourists formed a loose half circle around the trio of dripstone columns that the cave owners had dubbed the Bridal Altar. Rebekah positioned herself at the center in the rear and peeked between shoulders to Tolly, who stood in front of the columns, his white beard and white teeth shining in the light from his lantern.

  “Not today, huh? Well, when you’s ready, this is a right purty spot to say yo’ nuptials. Betcha none o’ yo’ friends can say they married up a hunnert an’ fifty feet unduh the ground, now can they?”

  While Tolly explained how the columns formed when stalactites and stalagmites met in the middle—“Kinda like a bride an’ groom comin’ togethuh as one”—Rebekah skimmed her gaze back and forth across the crowd. A movement caught her eye. Someone was separating himself from the group. She automatically took a step in the direction of the person. The torch’s glow fell over Devlin Bale. Her pulse leaped when his gaze met hers, and a smile curved his lips.

  He eased his way to her side and leaned in. “The torch is quivering, Miss Hardin.” His whisper teased her ear as his warm breath touched her cheek. “Would you like me to hold it for a while?”

  If he’d melt into the crowd, her hands would stop quivering. So would her middle. She shook her head and changed hands. “It’s my job.”

  “I know, but I’m willing to help. I imagine it seems especially heavy after the fall you took this morning.”

  He was right, but she wouldn’t hand off that torch, no matter how much her shoulders complained. She couldn’t give Tolly a reason to think she wasn’t strong enough to be an assistant. She needed the money from this job.

  “I’m fine.”

  He gave a nod and then turned his attention to the front of the group, where Tolly lifted his hand in invitation. “All right, folks, we’s headin’ to Giant’s Coffin now. But don’t none o’ y’all ask me ta lift the lid an’ letcha peek inside. I got no hankerin’ to disturb a sleepin’ giant, no sirree, an’ if you got such a inklin’, well, I’d say you’re more’n a little tetched.” Laughter blasted as the crowd surged forward.

  Devlin stayed at the back of group, just ahead of Rebekah, and she spent the remainder of the tour forcing herself to pay attention to the group as a whole rather than focusing on the delightful curls touching the collar of his suit or the fine expanse of his shoulders.

  When the tour came to an end and everyone followed the passage out of the cave, Rebekah blinked rapidly against the sunlight filtering through the trees. Birdsong seemed extra loud after the cave’s silence. Even after a full month of coming from the dark underground into the light, the change took her by surprise. She plunged the flickering torch into a bucket of water at the mouth of the cave and trailed the jabbering tourists to the transport wagon that was hitched to a rail at the edge of the forest.

  The warm, humid air made perspiration break out over her form. She wished she could take off her jacket and gloves, but Tolly always left his on, and she was inclined to follow his example. Devlin, however, shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over his arm. Some of the tourists moved slowly, their shoulders slumped, proving the two-hour trek over uneven pathways had taxed them. But Devlin moved alongside her in an effortless gait. When Tolly had told her they’d be escorting a college student, she expected someone lazy and even out of shape from sitting at a desk. It pleased her to have been wrong.

  At the wagon Rebekah lowered the hatch and set out the little stool for people to climb in more easily. She gave women her hand and allowed men to push off from her shoulder. Devlin stepped up last, but instead of climbing aboard he rounded the wagon and stopped next to the high seat where Tolly sat, reins in hand.

  “Is it all right if I walk back?”

  Tolly scratched his chin. “Makes no nevuhmind to me, but it’s a fair stretch. ’Specially aftuh walkin’ so long inside the cave. You sure you don’t wanna ride?”

  “I’m sure.” Devlin reached up to Tolly, and the pair shook hands. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Tolly.” He strode off into the trees.

  Rebekah stared after him, uneasiness tiptoeing up her spine.

  Tolly angled a grin at her. “Reb? You comin’?”

  Her face flaming, Rebekah hooked the hatch into place and trotted to the front. She settled herself next to Tolly. “Are you sure he should walk back to the hotel? Especially through the woods?”

  He flicked the reins. “Why you worryin’?”

  She hugged herself, a chill creeping across her flesh despite the mugginess. “He’s from the city. He won’t know what to do if he encounters a bear.”

  Tolly chuckled. “Oh, now, Reb, he be a college boy. I figure a college boy’s gotta have enough sense to stay away from bears.” He gave her a little nudge with his elbow, a teasing bump, and then began a back-and-forth exchange with the guests, leaving her to stew in silence the rest of the way to the hotel.

  Rebekah stayed beside the wagon until all the guests departed. Then she turned to go to her cabin. Her head was starting to hurt again, and she wanted to lie down.

  “Reb, you hold up there.”

  She paused.

  Tolly strode to her side, lifted her hand, and pressed several coins into her palm. “I ain’t gonna argue wit’ you no more ’bout these tips. What you do is impo’tant, keepin’ ever’body togethuh, an’ this’s my way o’ sayin’ thanks fo’ doin’ a good job fo’ me.” He curled her fingers around the cool disks. “So you put this in yo’ pocket an’ give it to yo’ daddy. Or buy yo’self somethin’. Mebbe a Sunday-go-to-meetin’ hat. One that’s got flowuhs on it. Make yo’self up purty.”

  Heat stirred in her chest
and climbed upward.

  “Gonna be a while befo’ we start gettin’ tips again, what with us spendin’ all our time with that cartographuh. So enjoy this money, y’hear?” He gazed at her as sternly as Daddy ever had.

  With a headache stealing her gumption, she didn’t have the energy to argue. Rebekah slipped her hand free of his grasp and pushed it into her pocket, her fist still balled around the coins. “All right. Thank you.”

  “You’s welcome. Now, I’s wantin’ you to take tomorruh off an’ jus’ rest up, give yo’ head a chance to lose its achin’. Gonna be out early come Monday an’ ever’ day thereaftuh ’til them maps get drawed.” Whistling, he took off toward the main building.

  Rebekah passed through the narrow gap between the row of guest cottages and the observation building, then headed north across the open grassy area where guests often played badminton, croquet, or a strange game called lacrosse. Only the roofs of the staff cabins showed, the buildings nestled side by side behind a knoll. She crested the rise and released a sigh. Downhill from there. She was eager to take that rest Tolly had advised.

  Halfway down the hill she realized someone was sitting on the little stoop outside her front door. She slowed for a moment, squinting until she recognized Cissy. Then she broke into a smile and trotted the remaining distance, ignoring the persistent pounding in the back of her head. Cissy stood, swinging the basket Rebekah had always used to carry mushrooms.

  Rebekah grabbed her sister in a hug. “Hi!”

  Cissy pulled back and looked Rebekah up and down. “Why’re you dressed that way? You look awful. An’ you smell like you’ve been rolling in mold.”

  Rebekah stifled a snort. “Well, I think you look and smell just fine.” She glanced at the basket. “Have you been gathering mushrooms?”

  “Mama said I had to. Said the cook depended on ’em.” She pulled a few coins from her apron pocket and frowned at them. “Seems like a lot of work, pickin’ ’em, cleanin’ ’em, an’ cartin’ ’em over here, for no more’n what he pays.”

  Rebekah peeked into Cissy’s hand. A quarter, a dime, and a nickel glinted in the sun. “Let’s make it look like more then.” She fished the money Tolly had given her from her pocket and added it to the coins in Cissy’s hand.

  Her sister quickly counted the coins, and her eyes widened. “A dollar an’ fifteen cents? Where’d you get so much?”

  Rebekah hadn’t realized the amount. Tolly must be half-rich from tips. She stared longingly at the quarters and dimes. She could’ve picked out a new shirt and gloves at the company store and had a few cents to spare. But she wouldn’t take it back. “It’s my tip money for taking people through the cave.”

  Cissy continued to gawk at the money. “I wish I could take people on tours.”

  Rebekah laughed. “You’d have to dress like a man, and you’d come out smelling like you rolled in mold. I don’t think you’d like it much.”

  Cissy wrinkled her nose. She dropped the coins in her apron pocket. The fabric sagged from the weight. “Maybe not. But I’d sure like takin’ in that money.”

  The gleam in Cissy’s eyes troubled Rebekah. She took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “There’s more important things in life than money, Cissy. You can’t buy love, and you can’t buy happiness.” Their family never had money in the bank, but she wouldn’t trade Mama, Daddy, and her sisters for any amount of money.

  Cissy shrugged and stepped away. She hung the basket over her wrist and blew out a breath. “Guess now that I’ve seen you I’ll head on back. There’s always chores waitin’. Mama said to ask if you was comin’ for Sunday dinner.”

  “Yes. I’m coming for service, too, so save me a seat, all right?”

  Her sister rolled her eyes. “Like the chapel’s so full you hafta worry about not gettin’ a seat.”

  Rebekah forced a smile. “I meant by you, Cissy.” Loneliness spiraled through her, and she dared to open a bit of herself to her sister, hoping she might soften. “I miss seeing you every day, even miss your cold feet on the other side of my bed at night. I’m grateful for the job and for my own little place to live, but it sure is quiet here. I’ll be glad when the tourist time is over and I can come home again.”

  Cissy stared at Rebekah as if she’d sprouted chin whiskers. “You’re plumb crazy. You got your own cabin, no pesky little sisters yankin’ at you, no daddy barkin’ orders or mama tellin’ you to hurry up an’ get to your chores. You’re makin’ all this money. Why would you wanna come back?”

  Now Rebekah gawked at Cissy. She’d long sensed a restiveness in her sister, but the cynicism and resentment stole her ability to speak.

  Cissy released a huff and tossed her head, making her thick, straight reddish-brown braids bounce against her bodice. “I gotta get home. Bye, Bek. I’ll tell Mama to set a plate for you at the table Sunday.”

  Rebekah sank down on the stoop and watched until Cissy disappeared into the trees. “Why would you wanna come back?” The question taunted her. She’d sent Andy away and lost him forever. Now she’d gone away and it seemed Cissy was trying to lose herself. Rebekah’s chin quivered and a half prayer, half accusation slipped from her lips.

  “God, I’m supposed to be helping my family. Why does it seem like I’m hurting them instead?”

  Cissy

  She carried a whole dollar and fifty-five cents in her pocket. The wonder of it made her giddy. Each time she took a step, the weight of the coins pressed her thigh and sent a thrill clear up to her scalp. If only that money was all hers. Why, there was likely enough to buy a ticket that would take her from Cave City all the way to Louisville.

  She’d never been to Louisville, but the teacher said it was a big city—big enough for factories and dress shops and all the other things Cissy wanted to explore. If she could get to Louisville, she’d find herself a job. Maybe in a sweets shop. She’d like sampling all the candies and other goodies. If itty-bitty Good Spring had a sweets shop, she’d be tempted to visit it right then and there and buy something really special just to find out how it felt.

  She had to see the money again before Daddy took it away from her. Just off the trail, a little stream with several large rocks at its edge beckoned her to have a seat. She perched on the largest, flattest rock and withdrew the coins one by one. She laid them on the rock’s smooth surface. Fingers of sunlight sneaked through the trees and danced on the glittering coins. A laugh built in her throat, and she let it out. She felt as rich as a queen sitting there with the coins spread out beside her.

  “Maybe I should leave right now.” She touched each quarter, dime, and nickel by turn, her thoughts rolling. “Betcha I could hitch a ride to a train station and ride the Cumberland all the way to Louisville. Or even Nashville, Tennessee.” Pansy’d ridden the Cumberland to Nashville once to visit her mama’s aunt, and she bragged about it for months. Cissy’d like the chance to brag about riding the Cumberland.

  Her body twitched with eagerness to catch that train, and she started to jump up and go. But as she opened her apron pocket, she realized what she was wearing. She couldn’t board a train in this faded dress and patched apron. People would turn up their noses. Besides, she and Pansy hadn’t exchanged their keepsakes yet. Did she want Pansy, the only person who really cared about her, to forget her? No, she couldn’t go yet. She settled back on the rock with a sigh.

  While a breeze brushed her cheeks and the creek sang its merry song, Cissy closed her eyes and drifted away in a daydream. When she took the train to Louisville, she’d hire on to work in a sweets shop where the air smelled like taffy and fudge and gingerbread. She’d use her first wages to buy herself the prettiest dress in town. Then she’d wear it to work. When handsome boys brought in their girls, and when the girls weren’t looking, she would flutter her eyelashes at the boys and tantalize them away from their girls. She’d flirt only with the ones who had lots of coins to spend. Before long one of them would fall in love with her, and he’d take her to his fine house, and she’d live t
here forever just as happy as a lark.

  “Hello, miss.”

  She jerked. Two coins slid off into the thick moss and feather-like ferns growing along the base of the rocks. With a gasp of alarm she knelt and began pushing aside the ferns. A shadow fell over the spot where she was searching, and she looked up with a scowl. “Hey! Why don’tcha—”

  The most handsome, best-dressed fellow she’d ever seen stopped next to the rock and gazed down at her. Cissy gulped and forgot what she planned to say.

  He bent down on one knee beside her. The same way heroes in the magazine serials did when they offered their intended a ring. She sucked in a breath and held it, not sure if he was real or she was still caught up in dreaming.

  “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

  His voice was real. She liked the sound of it, and even more the way he looked at her—really looked at her, with eyes so deep blue she never wanted to turn away. “I-it’s all right. No harm done.” The lost coins didn’t even matter anymore.

  He slipped off his hat and placed it on his knee, still looking her straight in the eyes. “Were you asleep?”

  She might never sleep again. How could any dream, no matter how wonderful, compare to having a handsome stranger in a three-piece suit, a little dimple winking in his cheek and hair the color of sand curling up over his ears, fix his blue-blue eyes on her?

  “How much did you lose?”

  She blinked twice. “Huh?”

  He finally shifted his gaze from her, tipping his head toward the coins. “Your money. You had it all counted, didn’t you?”

  Fire attacked her cheeks. The money! She hunched over the rock and began plucking up the coins. Her fingers shook, and a ten-cent piece slid into the ferns. “Oh!”