The three looked rather foolish but joined Josh. They slowly unwound, and finally they began to talk freely. Josh said almost nothing, but Rena found it pleasant to talk and to listen. The darkness closed in, and there was something cozy about the flickering fire that scored the darkness. She was wide awake and happy, glad that she’d organized the hunt.
After two hours, Rooney said abruptly, “I’m hungry!” Rena and Buck echoed this, and they scurried around getting the food out of the sacks. There were potatoes and steaks—but nothing to cook in.
“We can’t eat these raw, Josh!” Rena said reproachfully.
“I’ll show you.” Leading them to a small creek nearby, Josh showed them how to wrap the potatoes in mud, then how to bury them in the hot ashes. Then taking his sheath knife, he cut four saplings with forks on the end, peeled them, and showed the others how to attach the steaks to the forks. They went to the fire, and soon the smell of cooking meat filled the air.
They ate the steaks and the biscuits that Dorrie had donated like famished sharks. Later they dug the potatoes out of the ashes, but the three looked doubtful. “Eat those old black things?” Rena asked.
But when Josh opened them with his knife and dug the firm, white, steaming flesh from the blackened hulls, they devoured them with relish.
Finally about midnight, Josh rose, saying, “Buck! Go!” The big dog bounded into the darkness, and Josh yelled, “Well, you w–wanted to hunt c–coons, didn’t you? C–come on, then!”
Rena would never forget that wild chase! She plunged through the woods, stumbling into holes, running into saplings that struck her across the face, out of breath and half afraid. But always she was aware that Josh was beside her, grabbing her arm to keep her from falling. “How can you see, Josh?” she gasped. “You must have eyes like an owl!”
Rooney and Buck were floundering through the thickets, both afraid of getting lost but having the time of their lives. Finally Josh called, “He’s treed!”
Not five minutes later he led them to an open spot with one huge tree in the middle of it. By the light of the moon, they could see Buck clawing at the tree, baying in a hysterical fashion.
“Persimmon t–tree,” Josh informed them. He peered upward, then said, “Big ’un!”
“How do we get ’im down, Josh?” Buck cried out, his eyes big with excitement.
Josh was staring up into the tree. “Go up and shake h–him down, B–Buck!” he commanded. “We’ll l–let the d–dog take him!”
Rooney protested, but Buck went up the tree like a squirrel. As he moved upward, he sensed the coon moving and cried out, “He’s goin’ out on a limb, Josh! I’ll shake him down! Get ready!”
Standing beneath the shadowy form of the animal, Josh waited, and soon the limb began to move violently up and down. “Watch out!” he yelled to the girls—and at that moment he saw a dark mass falling right at him!
Rena could not see clearly, but she saw the coon hit Josh, knocking him to the ground. She screamed, “Josh!” but all she could see was the blurred form of Josh rolling on the ground. He was shouting, “Git off me!”
After a few moments of frenzied action, part of the bulk scooted into the dark, pursued instantly by the dog.
“Josh, there’s another one up here!” they heard Buck yell.” Want me to shake him down?”
“No! That was a bobcat you shook out on me—not a coon!”
“Oh, Josh!” Rena cried out and ran to where he was coming to his feet. She misjudged the distance and ran into him, upsetting him so that he fell down—and she with him. For one moment her face was close to his, and she whispered, “Are you hurt bad?”
“No!” Josh said, terribly conscious of Rena as she was crushed against him. Struggling to his feet, he pulled Rena up, then shouted, “Buck, don’t shake nothing else out of that tree! It might be a grizzly bear!”
Rena and Rooney found that extremely funny and began giggling hysterically. Buck came scooting down and stopped to stare at the two; then he, too, began laughing. “I’ll bet you looked funny when that ol’ bobcat landed on you!” he said.
Josh stood there, embarrassed and ready to put up his wall of silence, but he found that he could laugh with them. All four of them laughed until they cried, and finally Josh said weakly, “Well, I g–guess we scared every c–coon away for t–ten miles!”
He led them back to the fire, and they stayed awake for hours, talking and singing old songs. Rooney sang one of the songs she’d heard the soldiers sing in camp:
Soft blows the breath of morning
In my own valley fair,
For it’s there the opening roses
With fragrance scent the air,
With fragrance scent the air,
And with perfume fill the air,
But the breath of one I left there
Is sweeter far to me.
Soft fall the dews of evening
About our valley bowers;
And they glisten on the grass plots
And tremble on the flowers,
And tremble on the flowers
Like jewels rich to see,
But tears of one I left there
Are richer gems to me.
The sweet voice of the young woman seemed to lay a charm on the dark woods, and a quietness followed. Soon Rooney and Buck rolled up in their blankets and were fast asleep.
Josh thought that Rena was asleep, too. He sat staring at the fire until Buck came out of the woods, his tongue hanging out. Rena spoke, breaking the silence, saying, “Come here, Buck.” The dog moved to her, flopped down, and then Rena said, “Josh, I never had so much fun in all my life!”
“Well, it is f–fun.”
“You know something?” When Josh looked at her, she said softly, “You never stuttered when you were fighting with that bobcat.”
She had never mentioned his impediment, and Josh’s face reddened. He stared into the fire without answering, and she came out of her blankets and moved to sit beside him. “Don’t be afraid to talk about it, Josh,” she said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and someday it’ll be gone.”
“No, it w–won’t never!”
He turned his face from her, but she wouldn’t be denied. “You have to believe things, Josh. I do, anyway.”
“B–believing won’t m–make nothing happen!”
“I think it will.” She hesitated, then found herself telling him about her dream. She had never told a soul, but somehow the darkness and the quietness seemed to make it easy. The fire sputtered as she spoke, and when she was finished, she was embarrassed. Half rising, she muttered, “Guess you think I’m crazy!”
He turned and caught her arm, pulling her back. “No, I d–don’t,” he said faintly. “You’re the s–smartest girl I kn–know, ’cept for M–Melora.”
She smiled at him, and he felt an odd feeling go through him. He was suddenly aware that he was holding her arm and dropped it abruptly.
“Josh—are you afraid of me?” Rena asked abruptly. “I mean—you’ve always avoided me. Don’t you like me at all?”
Josh dropped his head and cleared his throat. “S–sure I l–like you, but…”
When he didn’t finish, Rena knew what he was thinking. “Don’t be afraid to be friends, Josh,” she said quietly. “I told you about my nightmare, and I haven’t told it to anyone else. I thought I could tell you, and you wouldn’t think…that I was silly.”
“I would never th–think that!”
He turned to her and smiled, a full smile that she’d never seen, and she said, “Will we be friends, then? Real good friends?”
Josh swallowed and nodded without speaking. He was too full for speech and finally cleared his throat. “What did y–you mean about b–believing something?”
“I have to believe Daddy will come home and not get killed.” She shivered at the words, and fear came to her, but she shook her head and said, “It’s like—as long as I believe it, it’ll happen, but if I stop…”
She broke
off, and the two of them sat there in the flickering light of the fire. Finally she said, “Josh, let’s both try to believe that my daddy, Dent, and your brothers will come home safe and that some day soon you won’t stutter anymore.”
Josh Yancy had never met anyone like this girl! For years he’d watched her, but shyness had kept him from approaching her. Now he was sitting beside her, looking into her dark eyes—and she was asking him to be her friend!
“I—I th–think that would be…r–real nice,” he managed to say.
The two sat there, conscious that they had been given to one another. Finally Josh smiled at Rena, shaking his head. “You learn a lot on a coon hunt, d–don’t you, R–Rena?”
CHAPTER 15
“I’LL NEVER BE A MAN AGAIN!”
After the coon hunt Rena continually pressured Josh to take her again. He put her off on that but took her several times after small game—rabbits and squirrels. She was never able to hit much, and she hated it when Josh did. The first time he knocked over a plump rabbit and picked up the limp, bloody carcass, Rena had taken one look and cried, “Oh, the poor thing!”
Josh had given her an astonished look, then asked, “W–well, did you think I was g–gonna kiss it, R–Rena?” She had refused to look at it and begged him not to shoot another one. “What about th–that bacon you had for b–breakfast?” Josh had grinned slyly. “You think that p–pig died of old age?” But Rena had prevailed, and they had spent the afternoon tramping through the woods.
David had noted that Rena was constantly begging Josh to do something or other and one morning commented on it to Susanna. The two of them were walking along the lane that led to the main road when Rena and Josh appeared at the edge of the woods, the girl’s clear laughter sounding on the fresh April air. “She keeps that boy hopping, doesn’t she?”
Susanna glanced at the pair and nodded. “He’s been very good for her, David,” she said. “She’s been lonely for a long time.”
“I know. Glad Dad thought of hiring the boy. He’s as hard a worker as I ever saw—and he can make anything under the sun, I do believe!”
They ambled down the lane, enjoying the brilliant colors of the oaks and maples, then turned at the edge of the woods and made their way slowly along the split-rail fence. Abruptly David said, “Lowell’s no better.” His face was lined with pain, and he shook his head with desperation. “Just sits in that room and broods. You’d think he’d at least talk to his brother about it.”
“He won’t talk about his injury to anyone, David.”
“I know, and that’s bad. You know how some of the men are at Chimborazo? They make a joke about their wounds.”
“Lowell will have to learn to accept this, but he’s all shut up in himself. Your father is worried sick, and I guess I am, too.”
David looked at her, and a startled expression came to his face. If Grandmother’s worried, things are even worse than I thought! He took a few more steps, then halted and turned to her. “I wish I were a stronger man,” he said, a sad note in his voice. “More like my brother Dent.”
“Don’t you ever say that!” A fierce light came to Susanna’s eyes, and she seized his arm and shook him angrily. “I won’t have you talk like that, David!”
He blinked at her in astonishment, for she was not given to such outbursts. He smiled suddenly, then reached out and wrapped his hands around hers, holding them tightly. “Always take up for me, don’t you, Grandmother?”
“You’re who you are, and God made you that way, David. I don’t want to hear you put yourself down again!” She saw that her sudden outburst had stunned him and made herself wait until she grew calmer. “I’m not Belle Boyd, the glamorous Rebel spy, but you don’t want me to be, do you?” When he burst into laughter at the absurdity of her statement, she touched his arm, saying, “God made you, and He made Dent. He needs both of you, so let’s hear no more foolishness!”
“Oh, come on, Josh!” Rena begged. She had nagged him into taking her into the woods to look for the eggs of wild birds for her collection, but as they emerged, she’d asked him to take her fishing.
“I don’t have t–time, Rena,” Josh had protested. Looking across the field, he spotted Susanna and David Rocklin and said guiltily, “Now l–look, there’s y–your grandmother and your brother!”
Rena gave a careless look at the two, then shook her head, her long dark hair swinging over her back. “They don’t care what I do.” She tugged at his arm and turned her eyes up at him—a tactic that she’d discovered would make him do almost anything she asked. “Come on, Josh, let’s go!”
But Josh shook his head stubbornly. “No, I c–can’t do it. I g–got work to do!” But when she continued to hold his arm and plead, he said finally, “W–well, we can go l–late this afternoon, I guess.”
“Good!” Rena’s eyes gleamed with victory, and she turned and ran away, saying, “I’ll go dig some worms, and we can get some liver from Dorrie for catfish bait!”
Josh stared at her, then shook his head, mumbling, “I got t–to quit g–givin’ in to that g–girl!” Then he hurried after her, turning to go to the forge, where he spent an hour working on various chores. Box, the elderly blacksmith, grinned at him as he worked, saying slyly, “Glad you fin’ a little time to work, Josh.” He was seventy-two and had been the blacksmith for the Rocklins since he was a young man. His hair was white as cotton, but his upper body was as powerful as ever from years at the forge. His world was no larger than Gracefield, and he wanted it that way. “Guess making a wagon wheel ain’t as much fun as runnin’ around with a purty gal, is it, Josh?”
Josh looked up from the forge, his face glowing from the heat. He knew Box was teasing him, but he didn’t mind. Box was his teacher, and he had become fast friends with the slave. He looked at the piece of steel critically, then took it over to the anvil and picked up a hammer. Box watched as the boy began to strike the white-hot metal, nodding with approval. He’s a good one. Don’t nevah waste his strength none. Always hits jes’ right.
When Josh finished the job, he put his tools away, saying, “I’ve got to go see Miss Rooney, Box. See you later.”
He left the shop and went to the Big House, where he found Rooney in the kitchen shelling peas with Susanna. “Hello, Josh.” Rooney smiled at him as he entered. “Come on and help us shell peas.” She knew how he hated that kind of work and said quickly, “Just teasing.” She rose and put the peas on the table, saying, “Something’s wrong with Lowell’s wheelchair. It’s hard to roll.”
“I’ll t–take a look.”
“I’ll go with you. I’ll be back to help with the peas, Miz Rocklin.”
The two of them moved out of the kitchen, and the boy asked, “How is he?”
“His leg is healing well, but…” Rooney didn’t finish, and Josh understood her anxiety. The two of them entered the room and found Lowell in the bed. Several magazines were scattered on the coverlet, but he was simply staring out the window.
“Josh has come to fix your chair, Lowell,” Rooney said. “You need to get outside and get some of this good spring air in your lungs.”
Lowell merely looked at her, then said, “Hello, Josh.”
“Hello, M–Mister Lowell,” Josh answered quickly. He looks better than the last time I saw him, he thought. He let his eyes drop to the brightly colored spread that covered the injured man, and marked the flatness where Lowell’s leg should have been. Quickly he averted his eyes, turned, and walked to the wheelchair. As he examined the chair, he listened as Rooney tried to carry on a conversation with Lowell. But it was hopeless, and Josh thought of how miserable it had been trying to speak with him.
He looked at the chair, then turned to say, “N–needs a new axle.”
“Can you fix it, Josh?” Rooney asked.
She was wearing a yellow dress that Josh had never seen before—one of Rena’s, he guessed. She sure does look nice, Josh thought. If lookin’ at her don’t pick up Mister Lowell’s spirits, I don’t know
what will! “Oh sure,” he said. “Have to t–take it with m–me, though.”
Lowell had been looking down at his marred outline. Now he lifted his head and said bitterly, “Go on, take it. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You will be, Lowell,” Rooney said quickly.
“Where would I go, to a ball? I could charm all the ladies with my new one-step waltz!”
There was such anger in Lowell’s voice that Josh wanted to help him. “Aw, Mister Lowell, you’ll b–be gettin’ around soon.”
“In a wheelchair? No thanks!”
Josh spoke before he thought, but he had grown very fond of Lowell during the days they had worked together. “You can g–get a new leg. L–lots of men—”
“Shut up!” Lowell glared at the boy, his eyes hot with anger. He had kept to his room, refusing to leave except on rare occasions, and his nerves were ragged. Night after night he had lain awake, hoping to die, and when that hadn’t happened, he had searched for something to do with his life.
But there was nothing—or so he had decided. All his life he’d been active riding, hunting, and fishing. And none of those things could be done by a man with one leg. Sometimes he’d have a quick, vivid memory of a dance, of gliding around the room easily, looking into the eyes of a young woman, and a terrible fury would come, sweeping over him like a red tide. He’d taken his health for granted, and now that he was crippled, there was nothing in him, no resources to fall back on.
And so he lay in his bed—or sat in a chair—and stared out the window. And he treated people miserably! He lashed out at his grandmother, at Rooney, and at the slaves, shouting with a rage that rose in him unbidden. He let the loss of his leg turn him into a monster.
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