At peace once again, she took a deep breath and reached for the medicine she’d come for. She took out the large jar of salve and scooped some into a smaller tin. Made with ground ivy and marshmallow root, the cream would help soothe the blisters Hattie was certain the Cleary sisters would soon be nursing. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and went back to the table.
“It shore was nice of y’all to come and visit me. I cain’t holp but notice those fine shoes yore gals is wearin’, Mrs. Cleary.” Hattie waited for the older woman to nod. “But when it’s wet, sometimes the leather cain rub somethin’ awful. Here’s a salve just in case yore gals need it.”
Mrs. Cleary spoke through tight lips and gritted teeth. “That’s right kind of you, but my gals are used to such things. I don’t think—”
“Thankee, Miss Hattie!” Lily snagged the tin and put it in her pocket before her mother could refuse.
The glower in Bethilda’s eyes warned Hattie that the woman would make her daughter sorry she’d spoken up. She thought hard for a moment before consoling her. “Well now, I ken yore right, Mrs. Cleary, but I’d shore hate to see Lily and Lark miss out on meetin’ the fellas at the doin’s iff ’n their delicate skin should take an exception to the weather.”
“Good thinkin’, Hattie.” Bethilda’s brow unfurrowed, and she nodded sagely. “Shore am glad to have such a long-sighted healer. Sounds like the rain’s lettin’ up a mite, so we’ll be takin’ our leave.”
After a flurry of good-byes and a hug from Lark, who whispered her thanks for the salve, the Cleary women set out. Hattie sank down in Miz Willow’s rocking chair and buried her face in her hands. The Clearys had been her fourth visitors that day alone. What would happen once the Chance brothers actually arrived?
“We’ll be pullin’ in soon.” Bryce, who’d somehow managed to sleep through most of the five-day trip in his thinly padded seat, tipped up his hat brim.
“Praise the Lord,” Logan said fervently.
“Goin’ a bit stir-crazy, are you?” Bryce grinned.
“Maybe a little,” Logan admitted, “but today we saddle up and ride on to Salt Lick. I can hardly wait to get there.”
“Me, too. It’ll be nice to sleep lyin’ down again.”
“What?” Logan stared at his brother in disbelief. “You slept through the whole trip!”
“Not lyin’ down.” Bryce shrugged. “Besides, I think you did more dreaming than I could lay claim to.”
The whistle cut off Logan’s response as the train slowed on the tracks. The better part of the next hour was spent unloading everything from the train. Then came the onerous task of fitting everything onto the backs of the two pack animals. Finally, they were ready to set off.
Logan left Bryce with the horses and sauntered up to the only other fellow around.
“Excuse me, could you point us to the road to Salt Lick Holler?”
The old-timer chewed steadily on his straw before nodding and pointing. “Over yonder’s the path. Ain’t no road, but it’ll git you and yore animules thar. ’Bout half a day’s ride. We don’t git many foreigners up these parts.” He stared at Logan, obviously waiting for an explanation.
“Visiting some kinfolk.” Logan smiled as he remembered Lovejoy’s word for extended family. The man just shrugged and walked off, but it was clear the answer had been understood. Logan rejoined Bryce, and they swung up into their saddles.
Over to the west of the train tracks lay a dirt path, now overgrown from a long winter and wet spring. They set out more slowly than Logan would’ve liked, avoiding ruts and puddles as they followed the winding way through the mountains. Evergreens of all shapes and sizes spread thickly across the ground, punctuated by wild grass and blossoming shrubs. Squirrels and rabbits darted to safety as they rode by, chipmunks chattering at them all the while.
Occasionally they’d have to stop to clear deadwood out of the path, fallen branches Logan remembered Lovejoy warning them about. She’d said they were called “widow makers,” and one of them had caused the death of Hattie Thales’s husband. With that in mind, Logan kept an eye out for dried-out trees. He didn’t see many, but he did see birds flying, singing, courting, and building among the needles of practically every bough.
Overall, Logan and Bryce passed the pleasant ride in silence. It was best to take in their surroundings and enjoy the crisp fresh air for now. Besides, after five days on the train, they didn’t have anything new to say to each other. That was fine. There’d be plenty to keep them busy in Salt Lick Holler.
Be polite and considerate, Logan dutifully reminded himself. Remember that your actions reflect on Lovejoy and the Chances in general. You aren’t here solely to have a good time roaming around the hills. It’s not like recess at school—you’re going on this trip to find what God has in store for your life. You’d better be certain you’re not too busy having fun that you miss the message.
All the same, Logan couldn’t help but smile. It was going to be an eventful trip.
The sun had long since set by the time they reached the valley. They squinted to find the fork in the road Lovejoy had told them would lead to the healers’ place. They inched along in deepening darkness, the only light coming from the waxing moon and more stars than Logan had ever seen before. The soft hoots of owls underscored the chirps of lovelorn crickets.
They guided their horses to the right and went a few hundred yards before spying a comparatively large structure to their left, exactly as it had been described. There. The cabin. Regardless of the weariness of cross-country travel, Logan felt a surge of excitement.
Chapter 6
Hattie rolled out of bed and slipped on her overdress almost before she was awake. She grabbed her satchel and padded across the floor in her bare feet to answer the door. If someone was calling in the dark of night, it must be urgent. She opened the door to a blast of frigid night air and a man on her doorstep.
“What can I do for you?” Hattie placed her satchel between them and tried to make out who it was in the dim flicker reaching from the fireplace.
“I’m looking for the healer’s home.” The stranger took off his hat. “By that satchel you’re holding, I’d guess I found it. You must be Miss Thales. I’m Logan Chance. I believe you’re expecting me and my brother?”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Chance.” She dipped her head.
“So you two young bucks made it all right.” Miz Willow hobbled up next to Hattie and squinted through the door. “Where’s yore brother?”
“You must be Widow Hendrick.” Logan smiled and gave a little bow. “Bryce is watching the horses. We weren’t positive we were at the right place.”
“You shore are. We’ll have you come in and warm up after we see to yore animals. Hattie, why don’t you show ’em to the barn while I brew some tea?”
Hattie fetched two lanterns and stepped outside as the first brother motioned for the second to follow. She could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw not two but four horses. Two of them were loaded down with more than she’d ever owned in her whole life. They had just enough room in the barn for the animals. Good thing she’d put fresh hay in all the stalls.
She opened the barn door and went ahead to light a few hanging lanterns so they could get the horses situated. She gestured to the wall of empty stalls.
“They can stay here. While you unload ’em, I’ll fetch some water.” She grabbed a bucket and went out to the well, making four trips to see to every horse’s thirst.
She’d never seen the barn so full. Their mule and milk cow looked at the newcomers curiously. The chickens ignored the entire proceedings as the opposite half of the barn suddenly became occupied, and the final empty stall filled with all the gear the Chance brothers had hauled up the mountains.
“This here’s the ladder to yore loft, where I’ve made up some pallets for you. You should be plenty warm, but if yore needin’ more blankets, jist let me know straightaway.” She put her hand on the ladder but didn’t climb up it t
o show them their beds. She figured they could manage fine on their own. “Miz Willow’s made you some tea inside to warm you up, iff ’n you’ll follow me.” She blew out the hanging lanterns and left the barn.
When they reached the cabin, one of the men hurried to open the door for her. It was the first one, Logan. She’d studied their faces in the lantern light as they took care of their horses. Both had dark hair and comely features, but Logan boasted a stronger jaw and wasn’t quite as tall as Bryce.
“Thankee.” She acknowledged the gentlemanly gesture and walked over to where Miz Willow was rocking in her chair. The kettle steamed over the fire, while a loaf of bread warmed in the niche.
“You’ve both met Hattie by now, and I’m Willomena Hendrick. Most folks in these parts call me Widow Hendrick, but when folks lodge with me I prefer Miz Willow. Hattie started callin’ me that, and I like it right fine. Ain’t that right, Hattie?”
“True ’nough.” Hattie placed a jar of blackberry preserves on the table and nodded. “I don’t like bein’ called Widow Thales, so I reckoned Miz Willomena probably didn’t shine to it after all these years, either.”
“And Willomena’s a mouthful and a half, so’s she shortened it to Willow.” The old lady rocked contentedly.
“Because it’s fittin’ for a healer to be named after a soothin’ yarb.” Hattie finished telling the story and placed the warm sliced bread on the table along with freshly brewed tea. Then she motioned for the men to sit at the table.
“We’ll be happy to call you Miz Willow. It suits you. This is Bryce, since you didn’t get to meet him before we took care of the horses.”
“Nice to meet you, Miz Willow. Miz Thales.” Bryce took a swig of tea and raised his eyebrows. “Say, I’m more of a coffee man, but this is pretty good!”
“No arguments here. We’re much obliged for your hospitality.” Logan slathered his bread with jam and took a large bite.
“Yore welcome, Mr. Chance.” Miz Willow beamed and rocked more quickly, the runners giving tiny squeaks on the wooden floor. “Both of you Mr. Chances.”
“You can call us Logan and Bryce. Everyone in Reliable does, since there are six Chance brothers.” Logan grinned. “No one’d know who you meant back home if you called any of us ‘Mr. Chance.’ Plenty more for the next generation, too, so we just stick to first names.”
Hattie blew on her tea to avoid saying anything. These good-looking men came from a large family that was getting larger all the time. How different they would find it here, with just her and Miz Willow and no little ones to play with or cuddle.
Not that it would matter. The older youths of the holler would keep them plenty busy. Abner MacPherson and Rooster Linden would want to meet their kin. Silk Trevor’s boys, Ted and Fred, would take them hunting and trapping. Asa Pleasant was teaching his Albert the best spots for fishing, and his two girls, Sky and Lizzie, were of the right age to be courted. Not to mention the Cleary gals. Hattie had a sneaking suspicion that Logan, with his bright blue eyes and easy grin, would be much in demand. Both of the handsome brothers would be before they went back home to their nieces and nephews to start having babes of their own. If any of the folks of Salt Lick Holler had their way, the mothers of those babes would be their very own daughters.
When Miz Willow tried to hide a yawn, Logan knew they’d stayed and chatted long enough. He swiped one last piece of bread.
“Much as we’d like to stay right here at this comfortable table with you lovely ladies…” Logan glanced at Hattie when he said the words. Sweet wisps escaped the long braid down her back. They caught the red glow of the fire and framed her young face. She moved quickly and gracefully; those deep blue eyes seemed to catch every detail. He realized he’d paused too long and covered it with a yawn of his own. “It’s been a long time since we hit the hay.” He stood up and waited for Bryce to follow suit.
“Thanks for your warm welcome and delicious treats.” Bryce rose to his feet.
“Here’s a fresh lantern for you. There’s another in the loft. I left water in the bucket should you wish to fill the pitcher I left on the bench up there.” Hattie handed the light to him.
“Thanks. We’ll do just fine. Good night.”
He and Bryce made their way back to the barn and climbed the ladder to the loft. Surprised at its size, Logan held the lantern high to look around. Two pallets made of fresh hay beneath clean blankets looked homey and inviting. Several blankets piled on the end would ward away the nighttime chill. A sturdy bench held the lantern and pitcher Hattie spoke of, as well as a basin, two hand towels, and a tin cup. A large empty trunk sat in a corner where the sloping roof kissed the loft floor, and a few nails were stuck in the wall to serve as hooks. Everything was clean as a whistle.
Someone—no, not someone—Hattie had taken a lot of time to clean up this place and make it comfortable. It fit with the way she watered the horses and took care of the tea and such. Hattie Thales had a kind heart to match her pretty face.
“Nice digs.” Bryce lit the other lantern and hung up his hat. He grabbed the pitcher and started down the ladder to get the water Hattie had left for them. Logan caught the bundles Bryce slung up to him. They’d want fresh clothes in the morning.
Bryce came back up to the loft and plunked down the pitcher while Logan put their clean clothes in the trunk, along with his Bible.
Then they each sunk onto a makeshift bed, pulled off their boots, and gratefully stretched out under the comforting warmth of a heap of blankets. Logan shut his eyes and immediately started to doze.
“What’s going…You’ve got to be…Are you whistling?” Logan raised up on his elbows to peer at Bryce, who was giving a jaunty rendition of “She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain.”
Bryce finished the tune before answering. “Not anymore.”
“Good,” Logan grumbled. “Now let’s get some shut-eye.”
“You go on ahead. I’m not a bit sleepy.”
“I’ll do that. Just don’t whistle anymore.” Logan settled back into the warm bed and breathed deeply, waiting to drift off again.
Thrum-dum-dum-bum-thrum. The sound made Logan crack an eye open. It was too close for one of the animals to be fidgeting. “What are you doing now?”
“Hmmm…Oh, I guess I was tapping my fingers on the floor. Sorry.” Bryce didn’t sound at all repentant.
“Something on your mind?” Logan gave up trying to pretend Bryce wasn’t there.
“A lot. Pretty country, ain’t it?” Bryce, the most silent of all his brothers, sounded downright chatty.
“Yes, and I want to get a good night’s sleep so I can explore it tomorrow.” Logan yanked his blankets higher and tried to get some sleep. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner morning would come—and with it, new faces to meet and places to explore.
“Miz Willow’s a spry old gal. Did you see the twinkle in her eyes?”
“Yep.” Logan thought of the wispy snatches of white hair covering the widow’s head, like she was so full of energy her hair couldn’t lie flat. But now wasn’t the time to think about it. “Go to sleep, Bryce.”
“Can’t. Don’t know why.”
“Because you only woke up to stuff your face for the past five days.” Logan glared in his brother’s general direction. “If you can’t sleep now, it’s your own fault. As for me, I’m gonna ask you to be quiet so I can rest. There’ll be a lot to do and see tomorrow.”
“True. Maybe Hattie’ll show us around. What did you think of her?”
Logan realized Bryce’s yammering had managed to make him too alert to sleep. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair.
“Why? You’re usually the one who’s more interested in animals than people.” Logan was actually interested in Bryce’s opinion.
“Yep. But she’s kinda hard to read. She’s got a servant’s heart—I mean, look at how she fixed up this place for two strangers. She was awful nice about helping us in the middle of the night. I don’t think they have a pump. She had t
o draw all that water for the horses out of a well. Reminds me of Rebekah in the Bible, but she’s pretty quiet, too. I guess I’m used to hearing Miriam, Alisa, Delilah, Lovejoy, Temperance, Eunice, and Lois all gabbing to each other and directing the kids. Hattie’s pretty enough. Why isn’t she married?”
Logan thought it over for a while.
“She was, but he died, remember? And if she’s on the quiet side, maybe it’s because we met her in the middle of the night and we don’t know her yet.” Logan wondered what she’d be like in daylight. Would her hair still hang in a tidy braid past her waist? Would her voice still sound soft, husky, and musical?
Bryce rolled over. “She’s as pretty as Eunice and Lois, and as kind as Lovejoy. I’ll bet she’s about as good a healer, too.”
Logan thought that over. Was she smart like Tempy? He remembered the carefully slanted script and strange spelling of her letter and how she’d mentioned just learning to read and write.
“Well, I—” Logan broke off when he realized Bryce was snoring. He shook his head and lay back down. “Figures.”
Chapter 7
Hattie came awake when the cock crowed, and she got out of bed straightaway.
Would the Chance brothers—Logan and Bryce, she reminded herself—sleep late after their journey? She’d best make enough breakfast just in case.
After slipping on her dress and rebraiding her hair, she made bread dough and left it to rise under a blue and white gingham towel. She dashed out to the smokehouse and fetched a side of bacon. Logan and Bryce looked like they could pack away a lot.
She sizzled the bacon and left it in the small oven to keep warm, then shaped the loaf and put it in the niche of the hearth wall to bake. By that time, the early dim had given way to morning’s brightness, and Miz Willow had woken up.
“Why don’t you go on ahead and fetch some eggs and milk whilst I put on some coffee? My old mind seems to recall one of those brothers mentioning it yester-eve.”
Hattie picked up the small basket she used to gather eggs and took her time getting to the barn. She’d be as quiet as she could just in case the Chances were still asleep. Cautiously she opened the door and stepped over to the chicken coop, trying to shush the clucking birds as she searched for their brown eggs.
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