Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Devlin lifted his belongings into the cart, grinning. “I wager you’re relieved to shed that pack.”

  “I won’t wager, but I will agree.”

  “Maybe tomorrow you should carry the food instead of the supplies.”

  The sympathy in his eyes sent a prickle of awareness down her spine. “With the amount of food Tolly packs, I doubt it’d make much difference.”

  Tolly chuckled. “Don’t be complainin’ none about the ’mount o’ food. Not when you ate as much as eithuh o’ us men today.”

  Heat attacked Rebekah’s face.

  “And only fair of her to do so, considering her hard work.” Devlin beamed at her. “Truly, Miss Hardin, I couldn’t help but notice how tirelessly you traversed the treacherous tunnels. You were an inspiration to me, keeping me moving when my legs felt too weak to continue.”

  The heat flowed into her chest. She couldn’t decide if he was making fun of her or complimenting her. She scuttled to the opposite side of the cart. “Following Tolly wasn’t any worse than following my daddy’s work mule in our tobacco field.”

  “But I hope to smell some bettuh than an ol’ work mule.”

  Tolly’s dry comment earned a laugh from Devlin, and to Rebekah’s relief he turned his attention to the older black man. “I have a lot of drawing to do this evening, Tolly. Can we return to the hotel now?”

  “Sure thing. But I’s ridin’ with you’uns this trip. My feet’re achin’.”

  The three of them clambered into the cart and Tolly flicked the reins. Bitsy let out a braying complaint. Tolly flicked them again, harder, but the mule still refused to move.

  Tolly snorted and started to rise. “Oh, all right, you fool cuss, I’ll—”

  Devlin hopped out, making the cart bounce. “You two ride. I’ll walk.”

  Tolly opened his mouth as if to argue, but Devlin put up one hand. “No, you two carried much more weight through the cave today than I did. It only makes sense that I should be the one to walk.” He picked up his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. “I would appreciate it, however, if you would deliver my waywiser to my room. I’m staying in cottage two.”

  Tolly touched the brim of his battered top hat. “I surely will, Devlin. You have a good walk now. See you back at the meetin’ spot tomorruh mo’nin’ at seven.” This time when he flicked the reins, Bitsy lurched to action.

  Rebekah let her feet dangle out the back of the cart as Tolly guided Bitsy up the road to the cave estate. How could Devlin, who hailed from the city, have the energy to walk after the miles they’d covered? More than once, city fellows had come up to the door of her family’s cabin seeking permission to hunt or fish on Daddy’s land. Daddy, as kind and loving as he was with Mama and his girls, always seemed distrusting and even a little disdainful of those men. She’d once overheard him tell Mama, “Can’t abide a dandy. Slick haired an’ big bellied with soft hands, like they never done a lick o’ work.”

  When she’d seen Devlin for the first time, she’d branded him a dandy in her mind. His fine suit, smug grin, and hands absent of dirt beneath the fingernails all painted the picture of a city dude. But he hadn’t looked like one today in his work trousers and jacket. And he hadn’t acted like one, either, keeping up pace for pace all through the cave and then choosing to hike the half mile to the hotel. Would Daddy approve of Devlin, or would he show disdain?

  Tolly brought Bitsy to a stop in front of the row of cottages. He angled a look over his shoulder. “If you ain’t too tired to move, would you take down Devlin’s wheel-rolluh there an’ set it by his door?”

  Rebekah gaped at the man. “You’re not going to put it inside?”

  “How can I? I don’t got a key to get in.”

  Rebekah carefully lifted the waywiser to the ground. She touched the round glass face, chewing her lip. “This thing looks expensive. Somebody might come along and take it. I don’t think we should leave it outside. Not without someone keeping guard over it.”

  Tolly scowled. “I ain’t stayin’ here until he gets back. I gotta take care o’ Bitsy an’ then go see Coopuh, get fixed up with victuals for tomorruh. Gotta make up anothuh passel o’ torches. Hopin’ to get some sleepin’ in, too, befo’ tomorruh comes.”

  Rebekah grabbed her jacket and stepped away from the cart. “Then I’ll stay.”

  He glared at her for several seconds, his lips set so tightly his mustache and beard meshed together. With his eyes still squinted, he pointed at her. “Mind all you do is guard that wheel. Don’t you be goin’ inside his cottage no mattuh if he ask.”

  Rebekah jolted. “Tolly!”

  “All I’s sayin’ is he’s a good-lookin’ fella an’ he’s noticed you’re a fine-lookin’ gal.”

  Rebekah started fanning herself with the jacket.

  “So you jus’ mind yo’self, y’hear?”

  A young couple meandered up the boardwalk, their curious gazes drifting in her direction. Rebekah scurried close to the cart and lowered her voice. “Tolly, my mama and daddy taught me right from wrong. I wouldn’t ever go into a man’s cottage. Not unless we were wed by a preacher in a church.”

  His stern expression faded. He patted her arm. “I’s sorry if I sounded harsh. But when I hired you on, I made a promise to keep watch ovuh you, keep you safe. I wouldn’t be doin’ my job if I di’n’t warn you ’bout men an’ their wicked ways.”

  Rebekah’s heart rolled in her chest. “Do you think Dev—Mr. Bale is wicked?”

  “I think all men can be wicked when temptation snags ’em.” Tolly’s dark eyes glittered. “An’ you, Miss Reb Hardin, would be mighty temptin’ to any fella.”

  She ducked her head, embarrassed yet flattered. Mama and Daddy and Cal Adwell had all told her she was pretty, but somehow it meant more coming from somebody who didn’t love her or want to court her. “Thanks, Tolly.”

  “So jus’ mind yo’self an’ be careful.” His stern tone returned. He snapped the reins on Bitsy’s back, and the cart rattled away.

  Rebekah rolled the waywiser to the wooden walkway, placed it next to the door marked with a two, then leaned against the rough log wall to wait for Devlin. Within a few minutes, hardly a wait at all, he ambled along the row of cottages from the far end, whistling as he came.

  He lifted a hand in greeting. “Reb!” He trotted the final distance and stopped near her, resting his palm on the wall and planting one toe against the boardwalk. He grinned at her. “Do you mind if I call you Reb? After hearing Tolly use the name all day, it seems natural.”

  Rebekah scooted a few inches away from him. “No, it’s all right.” She gestured to the waywiser. “I stayed and kept watch so nobody would take it.” She hoped he understood she hadn’t hung around to see him. Although Devlin Bale with blue eyes shining, perspiration moistening his curls, and a musky scent clinging to him made her stomach tremble in an odd but welcome way.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He shifted his pose to withdraw a key from his pocket. “I’ll put it inside where it’ll be safe, and then would you like to walk to the dining room with me?”

  “Um…”

  He grimaced. “Oh. I suppose they wouldn’t welcome me the way I look.”

  “I think you look just fine.”

  His eyebrows shot high.

  She clapped her hands to her warm cheeks. Why had she said such a thing out loud? She’d spoken the truth, but only a brazen girl would tell a man he looked fine. “I mean, I don’t think they’d keep you from coming in. But…but I can’t go in with you.”

  He opened the door and rolled the waywiser inside, never shifting his gaze from her face. “Why not?”

  “It’s a workday. Staff members aren’t allowed to eat with guests in the hotel dining room on workdays. We have our own room where we take our meals.”

  “Oh. Well.” He blew out a breath. “I’m not keen on dining alone. Not when everyone else in the room has someone with whom to share the meal. I suppose I’ll see if one of the dining room workers will deli
ver a sandwich to my cottage. Then I can work while I eat.” He made a face. “That is, if I can find a workspace.”

  She’d never peeked into the cabins or any of the hotel rooms, but she couldn’t imagine them being anything but nice, given the appearance of the rest of the property. It didn’t seem as though the owners had spared any expense when building the hotel. Maybe Devlin was being particular, the way some of the other guests she’d encountered behaved. “Can’t you use the table in your cottage?”

  “There isn’t a table. Or a desk. Only a bureau, which stands as high as my chest.”

  That would be high, given his height. “Oh.”

  “I suppose I could work at one of the tables in the dining room, but that would invite gawkers. I prefer to work without an audience.”

  She tapped her lips, thinking. “There’s a table in my cabin that’s not being used for anything. Except holding a pot of flowers.” She didn’t eat at it, write at it, or even sit at it. She wouldn’t miss it if it were gone. “Maybe a couple of the porters could put it in your room.”

  Warmth glistened in his blue eyes. “That’s very kind of you, Miss Reb, but would you believe me if I told you there isn’t a place in this cottage for even the smallest table? The furnishings are very nice, and the view out the back window is enough to satisfy the most critical soul, but if they brought in a table, they would have to take out the bed. And I believe I’ll have need of sleep during my stay.”

  He angled his head, his brows puckering. “If I’m to stay up-to-date with my project, I need to work on the map each evening. Do you suppose I could—” He shook his head, grimacing. “No, I shouldn’t ask.”

  Curiosity got the better of her. “Ask what?”

  He rested his shoulder against the wall, folded his arms, and set his face in a pleading look that reminded her of Little Nellie hoping for a striped stick of candy from the general store. “If you have no need for the table in your cabin, and if you wouldn’t consider me an intrusion, do you suppose I could set out my paper and drawing materials there and make use of it?”

  Allow Devlin Bale into her cabin every evening? Temptation tugged hard. If she said yes, would he think her forward? More important, would Mama, Daddy, or Tolly disapprove? She wished one of them was nearby so she could ask.

  “I’d be certain to finish at a decent time and never enter your cabin without permission.”

  She stood mute, worrying her jacket in her hands. Tolly’s comment about men’s wickedness rolled in the back of her mind, competing with the gentle beseeching in Devlin’s eyes. Blue eyes, like Daddy’s. She bit her lip.

  He sighed and pushed off from the wall. “Never mind. I can see you’re uneasy with the idea.”

  “No, it isn’t that. I just think I—”

  “It’s all right, Reb. I wouldn’t want a stranger spending hours in my personal quarters, either. It was presumptuous of me to ask. I’ll simply lay the paper out on the bed and—”

  She snorted. “You can’t put paper on a bed and then draw on it. The mattress is too soft. Your pencil will go straight through.”

  He smiled. “Actually, I draw with a pen and ink. But your statement about it piercing the page is accurate.” He shrugged. “I suppose that leaves me working in the dining room.”

  She imagined him being interrupted by other diners, having to pick everything up and transport it back and forth between his cottage and the dining hall each day. Would she want to work under such conditions? She shook her head.

  “Use the table in my cabin.”

  His face lit. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  She didn’t mind, but Tolly probably would. She shook her finger, warning herself as fervently as she warned him. “We’ll always keep the door open so anybody can look in and see that you’re working. And I’ll stay far away from the table”—as far as the size of the cabin would allow—“so you can work without being distracted.”

  Devlin released a huge sigh, his smile wide. “Reb Hardin, you’re my hero.”

  Warmth exploded in her face. She waved her hand. “As a worker here at the hotel, it’s my beholden duty to be sure the guests have what they need. I’m just doing my job.”

  Amusement twinkled in his eyes. He opened the door to his cottage. “Let me gather up my drawing materials and I’ll follow you to your cabin now, all right?”

  “All right.”

  He let the door slap into the frame behind him. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “I’m just doing my job,” she’d said. She cringed. She hoped Tolly accepted that excuse.

  Rebekah

  As she’d feared, Tolly had plenty to say about her and Devlin being in her cabin together even with the door open. When he spotted Devlin trailing her to the staff cabins, he pulled her aside and said, “Takes a whole lifetime to build a reputation, an’ it can be all tumbled over with jus’ one foolish choice.” But after she explained her reason for opening her cabin to Devlin, Tolly offered a compromise both she and Devlin accepted. So they established a routine that gave him time to work on his map, protected Rebekah from supposition by other staff members, and set Tolly’s concerns to rest.

  While Devlin made use of the table in Rebekah’s cabin, she accompanied Tolly to the kitchen to gather supplies—or “victuals,” as he called them—and then sat on the stoop of his cabin with him, crafting torches for the next day’s hours in the cave. Each evening he reminded her he was only trying to guard her good name, and she told him she thought he was overprotective. He always laughed and finished the conversation with a wry “I know, I know, Reb, you’d rathuh be wit’ a handsome young fella than wit’ an ol’ white-haired man like me. But that’s too bad. You’s stuck wit’ me.”

  On Friday evening as she and Tolly settled in to work on the torches, a drizzle began to fall. Tolly scowled at the sky. “God, couldn’t You wait ’til we was done wit’ these torches? They won’t work if the bark gets wet.” The drizzle changed to fat raindrops. He sighed. “C’mon, Reb, gathuh up our things. Gonna hafta go inside an’ work.”

  She filled her arms. “In your cabin?”

  “No. Folks’d be jus’ as wonderin’ about you an’ me in there alone as they would wit’ you an’ Devlin all alone. We’ll go to yo’ cabin. Least then there’s a chaperone—me fo’ the two o’ you, and him fo’ the two o’ us.”

  Rebekah didn’t quite follow his thinking, but she trotted across the patch of grass between their two cabins and darted inside. Tolly followed close behind.

  Devlin looked up from the table, pen in one hand and a strange metal instrument in the other. “Is everything all right?”

  “Sorry to bothuh you, but it’s startin’ to rain.”

  Devlin looked out the window. Surprise registered on his face. “I was so intent on my map, I didn’t even notice. I’ll get out of here.” He started to roll the map.

  “No, now, no need fo’ that. Me an’ Reb’ll stay out o’ yo’ way an’ let you work.” Tolly placed the pail of pitch and bundle of green wood staves on the floor near the door and aimed a curious look at the table. “But since we already interrupted, would you mind lettin’ us take a peek at that map? Been wonderin’ how it’s comin’ along.”

  Rebekah turned a hopeful look on Devlin. She, too, had wanted to see the drawing, but she hadn’t touched the rolled paper, no matter how much it beckoned her.

  Devlin smiled and held out his hand in invitation. “Come on over.” He flattened the large sheet against the table and pulled the lamp closer. Tolly stepped up beside Devlin’s right shoulder, and she scurried to his left. They both leaned in.

  Devlin sat back with his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze roving from Tolly to Rebekah and then back to the map. “What do you think of it?”

  Tolly scratched his cheek. “Hmm, to be truthful, I ain’t sure.”

  A wry grin lifted the corner of Devlin’s lips. “What do you mean?”

  Tolly chuckled. “What is it?”

  Devlin’s ja
w dropped. He spun his astonished look on her. “Reb? You can see what it is, can’t you?”

  She pulled in her lower lip and bit down on it. If she told him what she thought—that the drawing resembled a gathering of earthworms—she would hurt his feelings. “I, um…”

  “You two…” Devlin huffed and then burst out laughing. “In five days I spent forty hours underground and then another ten trying to re-create an accurate scale of the twenty miles we covered, and all you can say is ‘What is it’ and ‘um’?”

  Rebekah squinted at the lines, trying to make sense of them. “I’m sorry.”

  Tolly shrugged. “Reckon a fella needs to be a cartographuh to read a map. I’s just a guide.”

  Devlin chuckled and set his pen aside. “I suppose I shall be grateful that my professors are less critical than the two of you. I might stand a chance of getting a passing grade on this project.”

  Tolly plopped into the second chair and turned a puzzled look on Devlin. “Why you gotta draw a map o’ the cave anyways? Seems to me there’s already one been given ovuh to the district’s clerk.”

  Devlin shifted sideways in the chair, looping his arm over its back. Rebekah perched on the edge of the bed and observed the play of the lantern light on his chiseled face. They spent so many hours in the dark and then kept apart by Tolly, she’d almost forgotten how handsome he was. Almost.

  “The map registered with the District of Kentucky was drawn in the 1840s by an uneducated slave.”

  Tolly’s white eyebrows formed a sharp V. “Somethin’ wrong wit’ that?”

  “No, not for the time. And given that the map was drawn entirely by memory, without any of the tools we have today, it’s an amazing accomplishment.” Devlin gestured as he spoke. His hand movements appeared graceful yet masculine, mesmerizing her. “But without a key to determine lengths and widths of the tunnels, one can’t get an accurate picture of the majesty of the cave by looking at Bishop’s drawing. Don’t you think Mammoth Cave deserves a true depiction?”