Guide Me Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  He raised his fist and pounded on the door. “Reb? Reb, are you in there?”

  Before he’d even completed the question, the door swung wide, and she stood before him in a calico dress, her hair in its familiar braid, and her lips set in an unsmiling line. Even though she appeared far from happy to see him, relief nearly collapsed his frame. He placed his palm on the doorjamb and hung his head, breathing heavily.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right. When I saw the closed shutters, I thought—” How quickly worry had risen. How unexpectedly the instinct to rescue her had seized him. Would he ever set aside his useless infatuation for this woman? He shook his head, forcing a laugh. “Never mind what I thought.” He straightened and assumed a businesslike bearing. “May I come in? I’d like to work on the map.”

  Wordlessly she stepped aside, allowing his passage. He crossed the threshold and paused. The lamp burned brightly on the far corner of the table, and his map and other drawings were rolled together on the opposite side. His pencils, pens, and box of drawing instruments lay next to the rolled papers.

  He held his hand toward the neatly organized items. “Is this your way of letting me know I need to work elsewhere?”

  She gazed at him for several silent seconds, still unsmiling, seeming to study him with uncertain brown eyes. “I rolled them up so I would stop looking at them. They were causing me too much consternation.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because they seem to be more than a map of Mammoth Cave.”

  Guilt pricked him. A guilt he didn’t understand.

  She crossed to the table, her skirts sweeping the floor, and carefully unfurled the pages. The smaller drawing he’d done of the cave and its surrounding land lay on top. She pointed to the X he’d marked to indicate her family’s property. “What is this?”

  He angled himself toward the table without moving his feet. “I believe that shows the location of your daddy’s landholding.”

  She scowled briefly, then moved her finger to another X. “And this one?”

  “Um…without my notes I can’t be sure, but I believe that’s the Barbee farm.”

  She slid her finger across the cave to the opposite side and stopped on a thickly penned X. She skewered him with a questioning look.

  He gulped. He didn’t need his notes to remember that one. “The Minyards’ place.”

  She released the pages, and they rolled together on their own with a whispering thwip. Her brow puckered into lines of confusion. “None of those farms are part of Mammoth Cave. Why are they on your map?”

  “They aren’t.” He hurried forward and snapped the pages flat. He placed the largest drawing on top and held the edges down with his palms. “See?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Devlin, you aren’t being honest with me. Your drawing of the cave is incredible. I could follow the tunnels in my mind. Every twist and turn and narrowing of the passages is there on paper. It’s truly amazing, and I want to be impressed with your ability. Selfishly, I want to feel as if I played a small role in making the scope and breadth of Mammoth Cave come alive for hundreds of people who’ve never been here.”

  Tingles broke across his scalp. The prick of guilt became a stab.

  “But all I can think is…why? Why are these other places marked, too?”

  With the shutters closed to passersby, they could sit at the table and talk. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. After a moment’s pause she perched on the seat, and he slid into another chair. He stacked his arms on the table and leaned in, watching the lamplight dance on the gold flecks in her brown eyes.

  “Reb, if I tell you everything, will you listen without interrupting? Will you withhold judgment until you’ve heard it all?”

  The slightest grin twitched at the corners of her mouth. “This isn’t going to involve asparagus, is it?”

  Her question made no sense, but the bit of teasing in her eyes encouraged him. He bantered back, “Not unless it grows wild in the hills.”

  She sucked in her lower lip for a moment and then nodded. “All right. I’ll listen.”

  Rebekah

  As Devlin’s explanation lengthened, Rebekah’s ears began to ring. A sharp, high-pitched hum of tension. She stared at him, at the single dimple winking occasionally in his left cheek, the fervent furrow of his brow, the shimmer in his blue eyes. She’d gazed into his handsome face dozens of times since his arrival at the cave estate, and the fascination she experienced from the beginning still captured her, but in the back of her mind she felt as though she were looking at a stranger. How could he have so thoroughly deceived her?

  “So you see, the entire state of Kentucky would benefit if the government took over the operation of Mammoth Cave. The hotel and grounds would no longer be merely a retreat for the wealthy but a place where people from all social stations could come and get a glimpse of the beauty and magnificence existing both on the surface and beneath these hills.”

  He shifted in his chair, his gaze lowering to the table briefly before meeting hers again. A nervous smile quivered on his lips. “I’m finished. I’m sure you have questions.”

  Yes, she did. She took a slow breath, willing the shrill ring to vacate her head so she could think clearly. “I don’t understand how you can say the entire state would benefit if this land became the government’s instead of the people’s who live here. The cave has an owner. He would sacrifice his property.”

  “He would be adequately compensated. And no longer tied to the massive responsibility.”

  “And you want those of us who live near the estate to leave our homes. How can that be best for us?”

  Devlin winced. “I know it’s difficult to consider. Change—packing up and moving on—is intimidating. But think of what waits outside of these hills, Reb. Houses with running water. Electric lights instead of smelly coal oil lamps. No more cooking over an open flame in a fireplace or growing your own food. Instead, you could walk into a grocer’s store or butcher shop and buy anything you need, from loaves of bread to dressed chickens.”

  “I like Mama’s homemade bread baked right there in the little hole Daddy made beside the hearth. And dressing out a chicken isn’t so hard.”

  He frowned. “Cities have libraries and museums open to anyone who wishes to frequent them. Not to mention the schools. Including colleges. Many of them accept female students, too, so think of the opportunities you and your sisters would have.”

  Desire struck with such force it stole her breath for a moment. She chased away the intense longing with a harsh laugh. “Colleges aren’t free to the public. How could my daddy afford to send us to college? He can barely afford to keep us in shoes.”

  Devlin nodded, fervency brightening his eyes. “That’s exactly right. On that small patch of ground, he’ll never earn enough to provide anything beyond the most rudimentary education for you or Cissy or any of the others. But with the money your family receives from selling your land, you could—”

  The ringing increased, stirred by Devlin’s eager tone. She clapped her hands over her ears.

  He grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms down. “Reb, you love books. Wouldn’t you like to earn a degree in library science or education? You could work with books every day. You could encourage others to love books as much as you do.”

  How could he have tapped into the secret desire of her heart? She wriggled free of his grasp and hugged herself. “Sure I love to read. It’s a fine way to learn about faraway places and people who are different from the ones I see every day.” Oh, to share her love of learning with others, to see their faces light the way the little girls’ did when she read them tales of dragons and princesses and castles. Then a remembrance of Andy’s face, pinched with hurt as she ordered him to get lost and let her read in peace, flooded her.

  She smacked the table with her open palm, forcing her thoughts back to Devlin and his talk of college. “No stack of books, no matter how high, could be more important to me than the land
my great-granddaddy came all the way from Scotland to claim.”

  Devlin blew out a mighty sigh. “Reb, I think you’re cheating yourself.”

  “And I think you’re trying to cheat the folks who live in this hollow. I think you’re trying to take away their most precious possessions, and for what? For the government? I thought the government was supposed to be for the people, not the other way around.”

  He stood and clomped to the door and back. He stopped in front of her and glared down for several tense seconds, his back stiff and his lips pressed so tightly their rosy pink turned white. Then, in a movement so quick she blinked in surprise, he crouched in front of her and took her hands.

  “I’m not just thinking of the good of the people in the hollow and the good of the fine state of Kentucky. There’s one more reason I want to see Mammoth Cave become a state park. And the reason is purely personal. Can I trust you with it?”

  She held her breath. He seemed so stern, so intense, so masculine. A part of her wanted to bask in the strength and purpose he displayed, and the other part wanted to leap from the chair and escape. But his hands held tightly to hers. Her limbs went rigid, as if she’d turned to stone. She wouldn’t be able to stand let alone run. She had to stay.

  She licked her dry lips and forced the taut muscles in her neck to offer a jerky nod.

  He bowed his head for a moment, his eyes slipping closed. Then he met her gaze again. “Like your father, my father is the descendant of immigrants, although my family has been in the country for a decade longer than yours. My great-great-grandfather was born to English colonists in 1776—the very year the Declaration of Independence from England was signed.”

  Chills broke out over Rebekah’s frame. She felt as though she touched a piece of history as she held Devlin’s hands.

  “My father is a professor at the University of Kentucky. He teaches American history and American politics with a passion beyond description. This country and its betterment have always been of great interest to him because he was taught by his father and his grandfather that being an American is a privilege.”

  A flutter settled in the center of Rebekah’s chest. The ringing in her ears faded. “My granddaddy told my daddy the same thing. Daddy tells us girls to remember how hard my great-granddaddy fought to get to this country and to never take lightly the freedoms and advantages we have here. He’s proud of his heritage, but he’s also a proud American.”

  Devlin’s lips curved into a sweet smile. “Maybe we have more in common than we first realized.”

  She offered a tentative smile in reply.

  He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and then slipped into the chair, still holding her fingers loosely between his. “My father has aspirations to have a greater impact on America than teaching about its past to young men and women. He wants to become part of the nation’s history by serving as a senator. He intends to vie for a seat in the 1910 election. The competition is fierce. He’s a Republican in a largely Democratic state, and he’s against some popular incumbents. Consequently, he needs an…edge.”

  Suddenly Rebekah understood. She yanked her hands free. “You want to gain control of Mammoth Cave and its surrounding grounds so your father can score points.”

  His brows came down sharply. “You make it sound as if I’m doing something immoral.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He held out his hands in entreaty. “Reb, there’s nothing morally wrong with trying to improve the lot of people’s lives.”

  “There is if you’re doing it for yourself instead of for them.”

  He slumped in the chair, let his head drop back, and stared at the ceiling.

  Tension hung like a veil of smoke, making it difficult to draw a full breath. How she disliked the barriers between them. Most of them could never be removed. She couldn’t change who she was, a “hills gal,” as Tolly called her. Nor could he change who he was, an educated, wealthy city boy. But if they could come to agreement on this one thing, it would be a salve on her wounded heart.

  Hesitantly Rebekah reached out and touched his knee with her fingertips. “Devlin?”

  He lowered his chin slightly and peered at her through his narrowed eyes.

  “I listened to you. Now will you listen to me?”

  He sat straight in the chair and met her gaze, but he didn’t appear happy.

  She sighed. “I admire your loyalty to your father. You must love him very much.” As much as she loved Daddy.

  He nodded. The grim lines around his mouth relaxed a bit.

  “Since you love him, it makes sense that you want to do everything you can to help him.” How well she understood. She would work here at the estate and hand over her salary forever if need be to help Daddy build his legacy.

  He gave another brusque nod.

  “But it seems to me, if your father cares about the people who live here, he’d care about how they feel. Instead of sneaking around and trying to find a way to take control of this area, why not ask them if they want the chance at a different kind of life?”

  He tipped his head, his mouth pursing into an uncertain scowl.

  “America’s supposed to be the land of freedom. Give them the freedom to choose.”

  Cissy

  “Cissy, eyes over here.” Mr. Temperance barked the command.

  She jerked her attention to him.

  “Smile.”

  She lifted the corners of her mouth.

  Mr. Temperance squeezed the bulb on the camera, and the poof signaled they were done.

  The boy sitting astride Beau’s back didn’t need help climbing off, so Cissy sneaked another look at the group of young people gathered beneath the cottonwood. Nick was in the middle of them all, and he sure seemed to be having fun talking to the girls who were like mirror reflections of each other. Her stomach hurt.

  Mr. Temperance crossed the grass and stopped in front of her, blocking her view. He dipped down and put his hand on her shoulder. “Three more and then we’re done. Can you pay attention long enough for three more photographs? Then you can dive in the middle of them and pummel whomever you please.”

  Her chin quivered. “He ain’t noticin’ me at all, Mr. Temperance. An’ I know why. It’s ’cause I don’t dress pretty or talk pretty. I was fine for him ’til they came along. But now…” She sniffed and swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I guess you was right about me bein’ entertainment to Nick. An’ seein’ as how there’s just one of me, I can’t hold a candle to those two.”

  Mr. Temperance sent a glance over his shoulder and scowled. “I didn’t want to be right, Cissy. I hoped your boy might prove me wrong.” He patted her shoulder. “Don’t let him bother you. If his head can be turned by a pair of supercilious porcelain dolls, he isn’t worthy of you.”

  But she still wanted him. She scuffed her bare foot over the blades of grass. “Yes, sir.”

  “Chin up, now.”

  She squared her shoulders and nodded.

  “Good girl.” He strode to the camera, calling, “Next!”

  A teenage boy separated himself from the group and trotted over.

  Cissy greeted the guest and smiled the way Mr. Temperance expected, but inside she imagined Real and Reflection coming to sit on Beau. She’d step aside and let Beau give them a good nip. No, two nips. Hard ones. Back where their satin ribbons fluttered. When Mr. Temperance said to smile, she gave him a genuine one. What a fine daydream…

  But then she reminded herself that if Beau bit anybody again, Mr. Temperance would take the burro to the glue factory. No more little fuzzy-chinned friend named Beauregard. No more money in her pocket. No more chances to win Nick away from the rich girls. It was a bad idea, but she let herself imagine it again. The thought kept a smile on her face.

  “All done for today.” Mr. Temperance sent a smile over the people still standing around. “Sign up on the board in the office for tomorrow’s photography session.”

  Cissy turned her back on the group and put h
er arms around Beau’s neck. She nuzzled his stiff hide, enjoying his dusty smell. “Let’s you an’ me head to the barn, fella. I’ll get you all brushed down an’ tucked in, an’ then—”

  “Are you finished for the day, Cissy?”

  She jolted upright. Nick stood close, hands in his pockets, smiling his warm smile. Something inside of her melted. Then she noticed Real and Reflection a few feet away, smirking. She iced up. “Why do you care?”

  His smile dimmed. “I thought you and I had…an arrangement.”

  “I thought so, too.” She flashed a glower at the twins. “But I ain’t gonna share you with them two.”

  He glanced at the twins. His eyebrows shot up. “Are you talking about my cousins?”

  She gaped at him. He was kin to Real and Reflection? She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

  “Daphne and Delphinia arrived this morning along with my uncle Rufus, my aunt Twyla, and their brother, Bartholomew. Daph and Delph are a year older than me, and Bart is a year younger than my brother, Lawrence. Our families vacation together every year.”

  Cissy nibbled the inside of her cheek while worry nibbled at her insides. “So they’re stayin’ for six weeks, too?”

  He grinned. “Only four. Uncle Rufus can’t abide country air for longer than that.” He chucked her under the chin. “You weren’t jealous, were you? You ought to know by now you’re my best girl.”

  The ice dissolved. She hunched her shoulders and giggled. A clearing throat intruded. She shot a look at Mr. Temperance, who watched them with a frown. She giggled again. He’d been so wrong about Nick. She bounded over to him. “Mr. Temperance, Nick an’ me are gonna take a walk by the creek. Can I take Beau with me?” Real and Reflection hadn’t come near the burro.

  Mr. Temperance aimed a short glare at Nick. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  Her boss was as prickly as a porcupine facing a wildcat. She covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. “Them two supersilly porcelain dolls? They’re Nick’s cousins. He says I’m his best girl.” She let the giggle escape. “So see? We was both wrong. Ain’t it grand?”