by Sioux Dallas
“Everybody in town will testify to that,” Jude broke in.
Hattie nodded wisely. “The law will give him to you if you have the backbone to tell the truth and stick up for Jamie. I want to write a letter, and I want you to witness it. You, too, Mr. Barker and Mr. Kramer.”
Hattie got a paper and a quill pen. She wrote a letter and then turned to the three men. “Now you three watch while I write my name at the bottom and then sign your name and date and say that you saw me write this.”
Jude Barker, Claude Kramer and Pastor Tom Cannon signed their names as she requested. “Pastor Cannon, I’m going to trust you with this letter,” she said sealing it in an envelope. “God knows Jamie needs you and I need you. Thank you for coming to my aid. Now I must get home.”
Pastor Cannon placed the envelope in a pocket on the inside of his coat as he, his wife and the two men left. After they left, Hattie walked out and locked the door of Sweet Nostalgia. She was at peace in her heart knowing that what she had written would help Jamie.
“What are you supposed to do with that, Tom?” Iris asked.
“Keep it safe. If something happens to Miss Hattie, I’m to read it in front of the church and take it to the law to make sure her wishes are carried out.”
Hattie walked briskly toward the boarding house where she had a room. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, she darted through the weeds and bushes finding a path into the woods. It was obvious that no one had used this path for several months. As she walked, she went deeper into the Great Smokey Mountains of North Carolina.
After about fifteen minutes she came to a well-built cabin surrounded by flowers and fruit trees. Hattie looked at the peach and apple blossoms and checked the berry bushes for evidence of fruit later in the summer.
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she cried out, “Oh, Mama, Papa, how I miss you. Both of you loved clearing your land and planting and harvesting. It’s a shame I never found someone to marry who would help me take care of your land the way you loved to do. I know you’ll approve of what I’ve done to take care of a dear little boy who deserves a better life than the one he now has.”
The gold and lavender sky told her it wouldn’t be long until the sun set over the Great Smokeys. The air was so clear and sweet smelling. The fragrant odors of the fruit blossoms mingled with the citrus blossoms in the next field.
She smiled when she heard the distant bawling of a cow waiting to be milked. Down in the valley she could see the tiny figures of Morris Westinghouse and his family. He was bringing the horses in from plowing. The children hurried to get the poultry in the coops and shut up for the night, safe from hungry wild animals. Grain had been placed in the coops to encourage the fowl to go in.
Hattie entered the cabin and was pleased to see that a good dusting and sweeping was all that was needed. Tomorrow I’ll scrub everything clean and wash the windows. I’ll start a fire and take the night chill off the place. Papa sure built this house well.
Humming a gospel song, Hattie reached for some logs that had been cut into fireplace lengths and stacked beside the fireplace. She didn’t notice the triangular-shaped head until she felt the sting on her wrist. Jerking back in surprise she then heard the rattle, in fact, several rattles.
“Oh, glory. Rattlesnakes have made a den in the wood. I’ll never get back to town and get help in time.” She reached to a cabinet to get a sharp knife hoping to cut the bite and drain the poison. Before she could open the cabinet, the door of the cabin flew open and Jonas McBride stormed in.
“Hey, girlie. Thought you could get away did you? I followed you and you didn’t know it. I reckon everybody’s about fergot this cabin. It’s been a long time since yore folks lived here. I bet you’ve been hiding lots of money up here. My boys and me want to leave and go fer away where no body knows us. I need that money real bad, so give. Maybe you want more of this.”
Still leering at Hattie, Jonas leaned over to pick up a stick of wood. Two heads silently darted out. One caught him on the neck and the second one on the upper arm. He screamed and dropped to the floor where a big rattier caught him on the face. Hattie sat down in her mother’s rocker in front of the cold fireplace.
“Looks like we’re both in trouble Mr. McBride,’ she said quietly. “I’m ready to meet my maker. Are you?”
For months the town of Coldfork, North Carolina buzzed wondering where Hattie and the McBrides had disappeared. Several folks had seen the two older McBride boys leaving town with a wagon train going west, but none had seen Jonas McBride. Did he murder Hattie and then leave town?
The following October, Tom Cannon stood in front of the congregation of the little church and read the letter aloud that Hattie had written.
Dear friends,
In the event that something happens to me, I want Jamie McBride to inherit everything I own, including a bank account in the next town as well as in the bank here. He must use the money to go to college and prepare a good life of service. Pastor Cannon and Mrs. Iris Cannon are to be given fifty dollars a month for the care of Jamie.
Everyone approved and the Cannons had no trouble keeping Jamie and raising him as if he were their own beloved son.
The sheriff had no problem auctioning off stock in the store and finally the building itself. The money was placed in the bank in Jamie’s account. The money given to the Cannons was a fortune and more than the majority of the people ever earned or saw.
TWENTY-THREE YEARS LATER
“That’s great men. You’re doing a fine job. Well soon have this road cut through the mountain and people can travel safely and quicker to the next town.”
“Folks will appreciate getting from one highway to another without having to drive all around the mountain, right Jamie?” Albert Norton, a local road crewman stated.
“You’re right. It’ll save time and be safer to travel. Keep on the course that’s been laid out. We don’t want to do a sloppy job. Hollar loud and clear when you’re ready to set off the dynamite. I want safety first on this job.” Jamie McBride, Chief Engineer for the state road construction for North Carolina checked the blueprints carefully and reminded the crew chief about the safety of the workers.
Jamie drew in deep breaths of the clear, mountain air. “Boy, wouldn’t I love to own a home up here. Caroline and the kids would love it, too. Look! Over there,” he said in surprise. “Do I see fruit tree blossoms? They can’t be wild. Someone must have planted them. I hope the inspection was thorough and we aren’t trespassing on private property. I’m going over and take a closer look.”
The heavy machinery pushed down small trees, dug up thick bushes and took a lot of stumps out of the ground. Others had gone ahead and cut down bigger trees. The big trees were hauled off on a large flat-bed wagon pulled by big draft horses. More machinery would be brought in to dig up the soil and level it for a road so that a hard surface could be laid.
Jamie walked up the side of the mountain leaving the noise of the work as a distant, harsh sound. His knee-high boots protected his legs, but he still kept a watchful eye for snakes or wild animals crouching in the bushes. Soon he saw a jungle of rose bushes, beds of flowers and farther on, fruit trees. Some of the trees were too old and gnarled to bear fruit, but younger trees had sprung up.
He whistled and spoke to the curious mockingbirds that flew overhead. “Someone used to live here. Will you look at that old cabin. It must be a hundred years old.” He stepped carefully on the sagging front porch and went to the open doorway. Easing inside he stopped in shock.
“No. It can’t be. So that’s where you’ve been Paw!” He walked slowly to the skeleton on the floor. Bits of clothing were still recognizable and a ring that Jonas had made out of horseshoe nails was still on his finger. Jamie walked around an old sofa filled with baby mice. He looked with horror at the rocker in front of the old stone fireplace.
“Ah, no. Miss Hattie.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. I wish I knew what happened here.”
He walked
to stand in front of the rocker to see the skeleton still wearing a gold chain and gold locket around the neck. On her lap was a leather pouch beginning to crack. Jamie gently lifted the pouch and carefully opened it. Inside was a yellowed paper. He could hardly read the cramped writing. “For Jamie McBride,” he read aloud in surprise.
He carefully opened the folded paper. He had to walk near the door to get more light before he could read the letter.
“Dear Jamie, my little love. Your mother was like an older sister that I never had. I loved her so much. She was so thrilled expecting you. She wanted you to do better than the rest of the family. I promised her that if anything happened to her, I would see that you had an education. I left everything I own in town to you. I want you to have this five hundred acres to love and live on where I grew up so happy and carefree. Someone will find this and I hope and pray they’ll be honest enough to let you know that you own this property. On top of the mantle, fourth brick from the left, is a hole behind the brick. Inside are jewels that mama’s parents brought from Scotland. I have been putting a little money each month in the First Trust Bank in Reidsville. That’s yours, too.” He stopped to wipe his eyes and look around in disbelief. He continued to read.
“I was surprised by some rattlers in the wood pile. Before I could do anything your paw had followed me and tried to force me to give him money. When he reached to get a stick of wood to hit me, he was bitten several times. I had two bites, but since we’re so far from town, there’s no chance of getting help. Know that I’ll always love you, Jamie.”
He knelt in front of Hattie’s skeleton. “Hattie, you didn’t deserve this. I love you, too, and although I’m heartsick that this happened, I’m glad to know what happened to you and paw. I wish you could meet my sweet wife. Her name’s Caroline. We have two boys, Jeremiah and Daniel and a darling little girl, Rebecca.”
Two years later Jamie opened the town that he had built on the south side of the new highway. His beautiful new log cabin was on the spot where the old cabin had been, but his house had modern conveniences. Other homes dotted the mountainside. Hattiesburg had a school, town hall, hotel, restaurants, two churches, stores, a fire station, a clinic, a park, a police station, a theatre, a newspaper, a farm and feed store and was growing by leaps and bounds.
A factory for making furniture had been built just outside the town limits. An arts and crafts building offered items made by the people in the community. There were handmade musical instruments, quilts, paintings, pottery and many items. Tourist trade was booming and the people were happy with their economic situation. A bed and breakfast had just opened. A new high school was being built and plans were laid for a community entertainment center where people could gather for meetings or weddings and all kinds of fun parties.
“Daddy,” Rebecca called. “Why did you name the town Hattiesburg? Why didn’t you name it after momma?”
Caroline hugged her and smiled. “Hattie was a dear, sweet woman who loved your daddy when he was a little boy. She was the one who left all the money to your daddy so that all of this could be built. The money that she left in the bank had earned so much interest that there was a lot of it. Taxes on her property were paid from this account so that it could be left to your daddy. Your daddy’s smart. He invested some of the money and made more. It’s only right that the town should be named after Hattie.”
Jamie slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and laid a loving hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “We’re also going to have a Sweet Nostalgia and keep Hattie’s memory alive with antiques and things she loved.”
Caroline reached to take Jamie’s hand and laid it on her stomach. “And if this one’s a girl, would you want to name her Hattie?”
Jamie whooped and picked her up to swing around. “How blessed I am,” he declared. He touched the gold chain and gold locket around his wife’s neck. I can feel Hattie looking down on us and being so happy for us. She would be thrilled that you’re wearing her favorite jewelry.
Time Will Tell
Wise County, Virginia, 1932
Red, work-roughened hands pushed untidy strawberry blonde hair from a tired face, old before her time. She rubbed her aching back as she bent over a tub filled with hot waster and dirty clothes. Placing a scrub board in the tub, she laboriously scrubbed the clothes and placed them in another tub of hot water to rinse them.
Thin cattle bawled from a dry field that was sadly in need of rain. The pond, that once filled the large hollow in a graceful green meadow, was now a pitiful looking mud hole. The entire area was suffering a long drought. The cows were no longer giving milk because they didn’t have sufficient feed. Some of the puny cattle, and all the calves, had been sold to get a meager sum to pay for food and necessary items for the family. There were no eggs because all the chickens had been bartered for food items.
Alicia Stallard Mullins pulled her thin, tired shoulders straight and turned to walk into a shabby, frame house. Her heart ached when she looked around her. The house had once been sparkling white with a multitude of flowers all around it and had been a show place when her parents were alive and lived here.
Mother would be so sad to see her beautiful home now. Daddy worked long hours to raise his cattle and take excellent care of the fields. Mother worked hard to keep everything bright and cheerful. What is wrong with me that I can’t even manage part of what they did so easily? Alicia sighed and rubbed her aching back again, Alicia’s mind skipped back over the past ten years. First mother had gotten sick when Alicia was in the tenth grade. Cancer had taken its toll and sweet, patient, kind Ellen Stallard had slowly and painfully slipped away from them as Alicia graduated from high school. College plans were put on hold. She had hoped to become a teacher.
Dad had grieved so much that Alicia had to gradually take over the farm as well as the house. Now Dad was a sweet child in a man’s body. Bad weather had caused them to lose grain crops, so, they were forced to sell some of the stock. Alicia did not have the money to pay men working for them and now they were gone. She sighed wondering how she could possibly do all the chores before nightfall.
Seven years ago, at the age of twenty, Alicia had married Michael Andrew Mullins. Mike had worked at a storage plant where the farmers sold their crops for market. Everyone had the same troubles, bad weather, little money and a lot of discouragement. Mike had been injured two years ago when a tanker exploded at work. He had suffered for months with his injuries and now he was facing a complicated blood disorder that could not seem to be treated.
They had not done badly for the first few years. Alicia’s heart ached with love for five-year-old Benjamin Alan and two-year-old Elizabeth Ann. Dad was so pleased with the little ones and even took an interest in helping to care for them. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Everyone expected her to stay cheerful, calm, in control and to have all the answers.
Sleep did not come easy to her. She was usually so tired that she could not relax. She worried because there wasn’t enough money to pay the horrendous medical bills and day to day expenses. Even if she could sleep, she was soon awakened because someone was sick and needed her or someone had a bad dream. She worried about herself, but didn’t share her worries with her sick husband, her gentle, sick father or her small children. For weeks, off and on, she had been having strange nightmares.
Alicia was walking down a road that was both familiar and strange. Delightful odors of lilac bushes and thousands of flowers filled the air. Cool, sweet-smelling breezes fanned her warm face. She felt at peace. Her steps took her into a large cemetery where huge family markers towered above her head. She didn’t feel afraid, but instead felt comforted.
Hearing her dad call to her, she turned down a path to go in the direction of his voice. As she passed a magnificent, tall marker, she read Joseph Henderson Stallard - April 6, 1824 - March 17, 1865. On the marker was written TIME WILL TELL.
Time will tell what, she asked herself? As she stood thinking about the strange statement,
a hand slowly came up out of the grave and beckoned to her. She stood stiffly, cold sweat rolling off her. Trying to turn and run, she saw both hands come up and reach out as if to implore her to take them. She kept trying to move and call to Dad, but could do neither. Her fright always awakened her at this point.
What did the dream mean - if anything? Why did she dream the same thing, minute by minute, each time? She tried working so hard and to get so tired she would sleep without dreaming, but nothing worked.
June 3, 1935 dawned hot and dry. Alicia dragged her tired body out of bed and prepared to face a day that would more than likely be just like the ones before it. She must save a few beans for drying and maybe she could find some berries to can for winter. Their neighbor, Carl Dawson, came by during the middle of the morning after his weekly trip to town. He brought Alicia a telegram.
Her first reaction was fear. What now? How can I face anything else? Telegrams always mean bad news. She thanked Carl and was embarrassed that she could not ask him in for a cup of coffee or a piece of pie. They didn’t have it for themselves and, therefore, couldn’t share with a neighbor.
She stumbled into the house and handed the telegram to Mike where he sat at the kitchen table peeling knotty apples for cooking. “Here, honey. You read it.” Puzzled, Mike took it and read silently. He kept reading it over and saying nothing.
“Well?” she prompted. “What is the bad news? Who’s it from? It can’t be much worse than we’ve already lived through.” With an astonished expression, he silently handed her the telegram.
Slowly she took the paper and read aloud. “To Mrs. Alicia Stallard Mullins, from Edward G. Kern, Attorney at Law, 2506 Sycamore Lane, Richmond, Virginia, telephone 703-655-4934. It is imperative that you contact me as soon as possible.”
She handed the telegram to her father as he shuffled in and sat at the table. He read it and sat looking at it. He lifted his head with tears in his eyes. “That’s where your grandmother was from. She married a Yankee, so, her pa told her to leave and never return to the home place. She never did return, but your mother did write to her and told her that you were named for her.”