The Heartbeat of the Mountain

by Joan Foley Baier

  The merchants had decided that every hour two boys would go from store to store to get a record of each person’s sales and then show the report back to everyone. This way, everyone had a good idea of which products and presentations were more successful and still had time to perhaps alter their own. About two weeks ago, Luvella had met with all the merchants and gave them ideas of how to display their goods attractively, to encourage people to buy them.

  Mama came into the caboose as Luvella rushed between the aisle to answer questions and the desk to take payments. Mama just waved and left. A few moments later, Bessie walked through the back door. She whispered to Luvella, “I’ll take care of the desk and cash them out, like we used to do.” Luvella smiled and mouthed “Thank you.” She stayed at the front door to welcome people and to answer questions as they made their selections.

  Although hours passed, it seemed like only a few minutes later when Hannah came in. Luvella rushed around some women in the store and threw her arms around Hannah’s neck. “Ohhh, Hannah! How good it is to see you!” They laughed as some women pretended not to stare, although they all smiled.

  “You remember Frank, don’t you?” Hannah said. Luvella noticed Frank then, whom she hadn’t really talked to when she was at Uncle Isaac’s. She was surprised to notice that, although his skin was darkly sun-tanned, he was not an Indian.

  “And this,” Hannah interrupted her thoughts, “is Matthew.”

  Luvella reached for the little bundle, sound asleep, in Frank’s arms. Little crescents of dark brown eyelashes framed his pink cheeks and a tuft of black hair pointed at his button nose. “Oh, Hannah, he’s beautiful!” She bounced him gently, twisting back and forth. Then she turned and showed him to Bessie and the women customers in the store.

  One of the women said, “I think his daddy deserves some credit, too.” It was a special, shared moment, and Luvella hoped and prayed this was a preview of how the day would go.

  Bessie held Hannah’s hand in both her own. “I am so glad to finally meet you. Luvella raved about you so much, I wasn’t sure you were real.” Even the customers laughed and Bessie looked at Frank.

  “Welcome to our little town,” she said. “Are you all settled at my folks’ home?”

  Hannah smiled. “Frank and little Matthew and I will be sleeping in your brothers’ room tonight, and Luke and your brothers are going to bunk in the barn.”

  They laughed and Frank added, “There are definitely advantages to being married.” Hannah gave him a pretend-disgusted look, but her eyes brimmed with loving adoration.

  “So Luke did come?” Luvella asked quietly.

  Hannah grinned at her and at Bessie. “Yes, Luvella. Luke is here. Somewhere.” She looked out the window with no confirmation. “Now! Show me your caboose!”

  With so many customers coming and going, Luvella didn’t keep track of the time. Bessie was still collecting payments and giving change while Luvella helped the buyers when one of the young boys came in. “Luvella!” His voice was loud and excited. “Target shoot!” He turned and ran across the street, as if the women in the store had terrified him.

  Luvella looked back at Bessie. “You go ahead, Luvella.” Bessie waved a hand at her. “I’ll handle everything here. And if you ladies want to see our very own Annie Oakley, you can watch Luvella show her stuff at the target shoot.”

  As the women all turned as one to look at Luvella, she grinned and gracefully stepped down the stairs of the caboose’s front platform. Then she ran across the road to where the target shoot was being held.

  The hay wagons and pony were tethered at the hotel’s hitches. A large crowd had gathered. The people who had signed up for the shooting competition stood at the picnic tables, forming a line. Luvella scooted into the last place, her usual position. She liked to see how the other shooters performed before she took her turn. The target bottles were lined up on the fence alongside and slightly behind the hotel.

  “Save the little bottles for Luvella,” someone shouted. She recognized Reeder’s voice. All the men laughed and one of them retorted, “Ayup. That’ll give the rest o’ the shooters a chance.” More guffaws. Luvella looked for Reeder and saw him, standing over to one side with Luke beside him. Her stomach lurched.

  Mr. Johannson stood on the edge of the hotel’s porch, so everyone could see him. “Ladies, Gentlemen, Young’uns, and you, too, Reeder!”

  Luvella laughed with everyone, the visitors enjoying the camaraderie of the townspeople. Mr. Johannson sure knows how to warm up a crowd.

  He continued, “You are about to witness our Annual Target Shoot, being held for the first time along with our first Annual Basket Bonanza.”

  Hoots and hollers and applause interrupted him.

  “Here are the rules: There are six bottles up there for each contestant. Each contestant will use his own six-shooter and stand behind that line drawn in the dirt there.” He pointed to just in front of where the line of contestants formed. “The one who shoots the most out of six bottles wins this Blue Ribbon here. Good luck to you all.”

  Everyone applauded. “Oh,” Mr. Johannson added to the contestants, “don’t shoot while Bill is putting up the bottles.” Chuckles and comments rippled through the crowd. As the first contestant, Mr. Pearson, stood toe to the line, a quiet settled over everyone, and the mood turned serious, intense.

  Mr. Pearson spread his legs in the dirt, shifting his weight from one to the other a few times, and then stood absolutely still, cocked his gun, aimed at the bottles, and shot. A bottle sprang into the air and sent tinkles of glass all around the fence. Everyone clapped their hands, and the men roared. Mr. Pearson smiled and waved to them. Then prepared for his second shot. In the end, he knocked three bottles down.

  Mr. Melk was next: four bottles. Mr. Maartens: three bottles. Two visitors tried and each got two bottles. Soon it was Luvella’s turn. She picked up the gun from the table, where Daddy had just put it for her, and was surprised again at how heavy it felt in her hands. She walked to the front, checked where the line was drawn in the dirt, placed her right toe near the line and her left foot, pointing sideways, behind her. Her balance felt steady.

  She held the Colt, getting used to its heft, and cocked it. As she aimed, she was distracted for just a second by two things: Luke was watching her closely, and the bottles set up for her actually were smaller. She pulled her attention back to the gun’s sights, aimed a tiny tad high, and squeezed the trigger. The sound of glass breaking was quick and small. Everyone inhaled, along with Luvella, as the first bottle, missing only the tip of its neck, teetered back and forth, back and forth, and finally fell to the ground. Everyone exhaled together and people shifted their feet.

  Not so high this time, Luvella, she said to herself, cocked, aimed, and shot the gun. A splash of glass rewarded her. She cocked, aimed and shot four more times, each time bringing a spray of sparkles in the sunlight and the sound of tiny splintering chimes.

  “And the winner of the Blue Ribbon award is…” Mr. Johannson boomed, “No surprise, folks, our very own Luvella Andersson!”

  When she walked down the steps of the hotel porch, blue ribbon in hand, Luvella looked to where Reeder and Luke had been. They were wearing broad smiles. Luke whistled and Reeder waved both arms, then they clapped and clapped. Luvella waved back at them, and to many in the crowd, smiling. She gave the gun back to Daddy and returned to the caboose.

  Bessie’s face was the picture of pleasure as Luvella stepped into the store. “Luvella, I’m sure you’ve never had so much cash in this cash box before.” She whispered as some women climbed the steps to the platform. “Everything tallies, and you have fifty-four dollars and thirty-two cents!” She squeezed Luvella’s hands, pumping them up and down.

  “Oh, my!” Luvella said. “Do I have anything left?” They laughed. “Bessie, go ahead back to Vanessa now. She’ll be looking for her Mama. And thank you for helping me out today.”

  Everyone had agreed to close their businesses at four o’clock s
o the merchants could eat and enjoy the doings. Luvella had people in the caboose until about four-fifteen, but when she was ushering them out and putting the “Closed” sign in her front door, she heard a slight knock on her back door. She turned as the door opened. Luke stood there, looking taller and broader in the confines of the caboose, and even more handsome. He wore a white shirt, buttoned to the collar, a black tie, its short ends crossed at the top button of his shirt, and his black hair glistened, falling soft as corn silk around his ears.

  “Luke!” She squealed and rushed to hug him just as she had Hannah. He hesitated for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. Luvella released his neck, starting to pull back to look at him, but he held her more tightly, bending his head. His head kept bending until his mouth found hers.

  Luvella felt the fullness of his lips, as he softly brushed them against hers. Then she felt an urgency rush through his whole body. He pulled her against him and kissed her, hard. She let him kiss her, savored the sensation that shot down her and burrowed into her deepest parts. What am I doing? This is not proper.

  She mustered every ounce of decorum she possibly could and gently pushed herself away. Her face was on fire, she knew, and she still couldn’t accept the feelings in the rest of her body.

  When he set her down so her feet touched the floor, his eyes, dark and glittering, looked down at her. Then he grinned. She noticed how even his teeth were and that he had a cleft in his chin, like Uncle Isaac’s.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, pouting.

  “You,” he said, still standing close to her, his eyes searching her face. “You’re glad to see me, huh?”

  “Ohhhh!” she groaned. “There you go again. You just love to make me mad, don’t you?” She turned around and stomped back to the desk.

  He followed her. “No, I don’t, Luvella. I like to tease you, yes. Just for fun. But I don’t know why you get mad so easily.”

  Luvella closed and locked her cash box and put her ledger, pen, and ink bottle under the desk. “I don’t know why, either,” she said.

  He leaned on the desk, bending near her. “Is this something you do to all the boys?” She snapped her eyes up at him, but he wasn’t teasing. He was serious.

  “There aren’t boys. I’m too busy with my business.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. “But when they did tease me—in school—I didn’t bother to get mad. I just ignored them.” She came out from behind the desk and walked around him toward the front.

  “So I’m different?” he persisted.

  Luvella stopped, stood still. She didn’t hear a smirk in his voice, and she knew now that she should give him a good answer, that he was truly wondering about her. She turned to face him.

  “Yes, Luke,” she said softly. “You’re different.”

  The expression that spilled across his face and turned his eyes into melted chocolate sent thunderbolts through her body, lodging in the pit of her stomach on top of what was already happening there. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but a sense of propriety suddenly assaulted her, and she knew they should go out to the bonanza. Luke apparently was experiencing the same feeling. They left the caboose quietly, Luvella locking the doors behind them. As they crossed the road together to the hotel, she asked, “How did your”—she looked around them—“your…trip go?”

  He quickly surveyed the people around, too. “I want to tell you about that, but not here.”

  Mr. Raven called Luke to help him with the wagon, and Luvella joined Anna and brought her over to meet Hannah. Anna gushed. “Oh, I was so afraid I’d never get to meet you, Hannah. You’re just as pretty as Luvella said you were.”

  They talked about baby Matthew, giggled when Hannah said she wished Frank could take the baby’s night feedings, and all took turns cuddling him. When Hannah went inside the hotel to feed Matthew, Anna took Luvella aside.

  “Only one problem all day, Luvella,” she said. “One girl—about fifteen, I’d say—said she wouldn’t get on a hay wagon with an Indian driving.” Anna started giggling. “And Reeder came over to the wagon, swept me up in his arms, and set me on the wagon, then he did the same to the girl. There were already several other people sitting around on the bales of hay. Reeder jumped up and sat next to that girl and told Mr. Raven to start up. Reeder was so handsome and grinned and winked at her that I think she completely forgot what she had said.

  “And oh, Luvella! Reeder winked at me, too.” She pretended she was going to faint. “I think I’m in love!”

  “Ewwww! With Reeder? My brother?”

  “Oh yes, Luvella. Look how handsome he is. And he’s certainly a lot of fun. There’s always laughing when Reeder’s around.” Her eyes sparkled.

  “Yes, and there’s usually trouble in the offing, too.” Luvella laughed.

  Mr. Melk began to pound heavy tongs against a large piece of metal. “Dinner! Dinner!” he shouted without a trace of his accent, then added, “Ven you hand in your tickets up on de porch, you vill get your plates.”

  Clusters of people sat on blankets to eat, on Mr. Smythe’s porch, where he had set up several tables, and some people, mostly children, had even climbed back up on the wagons, using the hay for tables and some for chairs. Luvella peered from one group to another. Some were laughing, others talking seriously about some topic, but the general atmosphere was warm and friendly. Good people together with good people, she thought, smiling.

  She searched for Luke, but didn’t see him. She didn’t see Reeder either and checked quickly the privy behind the depot. It was still intact.

  The sales reports that the merchants passed from one to the other that afternoon showed that business was even better than they had expected. Some had sold out of their baskets, as well as some other items. She, herself, had only two baskets left at the caboose, and not one of the scented soaps was left. Her handmade sweaters were all gone, and her Penny Table was such a favorite that she decided to keep it as a regular offering.

  Mama called her. “Help us redd the tables, Luvella? Time for dancing!”

  Soon Mr. Johannson and Mr. Pearson were tapping their feet and fiddling away. The dance area on the road in front of the hotel was crowded. Luvella couldn’t see Luke anywhere. Where is he? she wondered, feeling the anger rise.

  “Luvella, may I have this dance?”

  She turned around to see the Pearson boy smiling. She couldn’t even remember his name! Oh, yes, it was Max. “All right, Max,” she said. At least she’d get to dance.

  He fumbled his very first step, but as Luvella guided him and smiled, he gradually moved with the music. Toward the end of the dance, as she twirled herself around, she saw Luke, leaning against the side of the hotel, watching her. She almost tripped.

  Mr. Johannson announced a reel, and everyone lined up. Luke came over and with a hand at her back, steered her to the dance area, standing opposite her in line. She flashed a huge smile at him. She loved the reel, almost as much as she loved the waltz. The music started, and he reached for her hands and led her down the line. She remembered the similar dance they had done after Aunt Hilda’s funeral. Luke had a strong sense of rhythm and moved easily to the music. Whenever they sashayed together between the two lines or met each other to dos-a-dos, their eyes met. Luvella wondered if her eyes matched the light in his when he looked at her. She felt as if they did.

  All too soon, Mr. Johannson announced, “Last dance, Folks. This one’s a waltz.”

  Luke had wandered off again, and Luvella peered at the crowd. Hannah and Frank were dancing. Mrs. Raven was holding Matthew. She saw Reeder dancing with Anna and wondered what clues about them she had been missing of late.

  An arm circled her back, a hand resting on her far shoulder, and Luke’s resonant voice murmured in her ear. “Would you care to dance, miss?”

  They swung into step immediately, swaying to the one-two-three rhythm together. He stepped to one side, back together, and spun her around, one-two-three.


  “I had no idea you were such a good dancer, Luke. I would never have gotten mad at you if I’d known” She grinned up at him.

  “I’m an Indian. I was born to it,” he said, and twirled her around. They were next to Hannah and Frank.

  Hannah said, “Oh Luke. You’re doing everything I taught you. Good.”

  As Luke glowered playfully at Hannah, Luvella burst into laughter, missing a step. “Didn’t you know, Hannah? He was born to it.”

  He finally chuckled. “So. You’ve found me out.”

  “Well, just that one little bit of you. I think there must be more, though.”

  They danced and smiled and poked fun at each other. As the final bars of the music played, Luke said, “After we get to your house, I’d like to walk with you for a little bit. Maybe to the creek behind your house?”

  Luvella tried to act as if she did that every evening, but she knew her eyes gave her away. “I’ll meet you on the porch. With both our mothers there, they probably won’t need me to help with the leftovers.”

  As the crowd began separating into groups to go home, Mr. Johannson looked over to Luvella and asked discreetly, “You want me to tell them what we talked about?” After she nodded yes, he raised his fiddle and his voice to say, “Wait a minute, folks! We’ve been hearing that lots of you would like to visit us this winter. We could have a winter festival—with sleigh rides, ice skating, snowman contests, plus pretty much what we had today. Except we’d have to eat inside the hotel.” Everyone laughed. “Who would like a winter festival?” Whistles and hoorays and applause filled the air.

  “That’s good, folks. Watch your newspapers and Harper’s Magazine for information. I think maybe sometime in January would be a good time.

  “And now it’s good night. Thank you all for coming and celebrating our Basket Bonanza with us. Have a safe trip home, and we hope to see you this winter.”

  Wagons were loaded with their passengers. Reeder asked if he could stay behind and help Mr. Smythe with some clean-up work, which didn’t fool anybody. They’d all seen him dancing with Anna. He said, “I’ll ride Daisy home. She’d just be tagging along behind the wagon anyway.”