Rachel was speaking. “John, I’m sorry. There may not be much hope. She’s incredibly fickle, and you know she’s real sensitive about men who lie to her. She’ll think she is in love one minute, and the poor shleck will do to something to irritate her, and that’s the end of that romance. The last guy she got really serious about may yet be picking glass shards from his scalp.” Geneva cringed, remembering her conversation with John about her lack of attachments. Damn it Rachel, can’t you keep a secret? She held her breath and swore that if Rachel told him that Howard had jilted her, she would personally see to it that her sister never slept through a peaceful night again.
Wayne broke in with a laugh. “She’s almost as big a liar as you, John, only she doesn’t see it as lying, exactly. She just rearranges the facts to suit her.”
This was her favorite brother-in-law speaking? Geneva felt a growl beginning deep in her throat. Sammy moved suddenly and returned it, low and menacing. Geneva forced herself to be quiet.
“Yes,” laughed Rachel. “You two really are perfect for each other. I’ve never seen two bigger romantics in my life—and both of you will plot and scheme and lie like hell to make things turn out like you want them.”
“I’m not the plotter,” countered John. “You’re the one who told me I had to sweep her off her feet before she’d stay interested in me for more than five minutes. And you know I’m all the time telling tall tales just for fun. I thought she’d like to hear a romantic tale about rescuing a maiden.”
“Oh, she loved it!” giggled Rachel. “But she took it seriously, and it sure backfired. I’m just glad you didn’t tell her about your Congressional Medal of Honor.”
“Or your Olympic gold,” said Wayne. They all laughed.
“I just about did,” said John, “but somehow I was afraid she’d believe me. She’s gullible, isn’t she? You know, I really do like her, and I don’t want to tease her too much.” He paused, then spoke again. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“It will take some work.” There was a pause. “Ever heard of Jacob’s Mountain?”
“No. Where is it?”
“You climb up to the laurel bald behind the house, then follow the ridge west for about two miles. It’s where I caught Wayne. Didn’t I, honey?”
“You little fool. It’s where I caught you.”
“That’s what you think. Geneva and I plotted for weeks to get you up there—the magic is better when the moon is full.”
Wayne sat silently for a moment. “I guess you’re right. I was too scared to look at you before that day, even though I sure spent many a sleepless night thinking about you—.” He snorted. “World’s biggest geek falls in love with Miss America. And when you came riding up, the wind blowing the grass all around you, I felt like I could sweep you up and carry you off.”
“Uh-huh. Witchcraft,” said Rachel.
“In your eyes,” replied her husband.
“Fairy potions,” said John. “Do you happen to have the recipe?”
“Aw, you don’t need it,” came Rachel’s voice. “You’re cute enough without it. Besides, Geneva will come around, once she realizes how much fun you are.”
“Do you think I’ll have to give up my tall tales?”
“Not until Geneva gives up hers. Two weeks after hell freezes over. Give her enough time, and she’ll come to love them. You’ll never bore her.”
“I hope so,” sighed John. “She sure is pretty. And fun. I like her spunk.”
“Yeah, well, believe it or not, I really think you’re outclassed,” laughed Rachel.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, just that you don’t always get away with your lies and maneuverings.”
Geneva sat very still, not daring to breathe, yet almost suffocating from excitement and rage. She would have panted, shouted, shrieked, but she did not know for which reason. Clearly her sister and Wayne were conspiring with John behind her back, which infuriated her. And those awful things they were saying about her! But on the other hand, it was clear that John really, really liked her!
From the corner of the house came a dark, feline form. It was Petrarch, who caught her scent as soon as he made it past the wellhead. Delighted to find his mistress during his nocturnal prowl, he streaked to Geneva, rubbing against her and mewing loudly. Geneva held her breath, stroking him, trying to silence his excitement. Presently, they were joined by Esmeralda, then Evangeline and her two kittens. Geneva frantically tried to pet them all as they ecstatically climbed over her, meowing and creating such a racket that Sammy scrambled up, barking hysterically.
Wayne’s voice rose above the noise. “Cut it out, Sammy. It’s just those stupid cats. You don’t need to go terrorizing them tonight. You might give them high blood pressure.”
Geneva gritted her teeth against their laughter. Everybody’s such a comedian.
Sammy was determined to be let out. Geneva had always thought that Rachel should teach that dumb dog better manners, and now the fool idiot was about to flush her out of her hiding place.
Quickly, lest someone open the door for Sammy and discover her, she hastily began crawling back through the border flowers along her entry route. The cats, ignoring Sammy’s barks, followed her, rubbing their heads against her face and getting fur in her mouth.
Suddenly she stopped cold. The light from the porch fell dimly across her path, and there, coiled on a rock smack in the dahlias, lay a copperhead, at least three feet long, grinning its venomous grin and daring her to come closer. The cats caught sight of it about fifteen seconds after Geneva did, and their backs went up, accompanied with hisses and growls. But after this one brief show of bravado, they abandoned Geneva, who took a couple of shallow breaths and began to crawl backwards. About that time somebody finally freed Sammy, who took out after the cats, and when they eluded him, he frisked over to Geneva, tongue lolling.
You stupid dog, she thought, as she pushed him away. Don’t you realize there’s a copperhead not four feet from here? Get out of my face! She shoved him several times before Sammy caught the hint and gave up his slobbering caresses. He lumbered back up the porch steps, and the moment he began whining to be let in, Geneva again retreated from the porch door, straining her eyes in the darkness for sight of the snake. She wanted to pray, but somehow felt unworthy, and besides, it was difficult to beg for mercy while she was thinking murderous thoughts about her sister and brother-in-law. A glance behind her let her know that the copperhead had disappeared from its rock. Still, she sat silent, hoping earnestly that it was not seeking out her body heat, which by this time was getting pretty high.
She swallowed hard, shut her eyes for a moment to improve her night vision, then opened them wide, all the while trying to make herself small and invisible against the porch columns. Yes, there it was, slowly making its way in her direction. John was saying, “Tell me more about this Jacob’s Mountain. What makes it so magical?”
Rachel’s voice floated through the darkness, “Only the fact that Geneva thinks it is. If you can get her to agree to go with you, she’ll probably be convinced that she’ll love you forever, you poor man.”
The snake had momentarily stopped, its tongue flicking out, tasting the air. Between it and Geneva lay a short, sturdy stick with a forked end. Very slowly and gently, she reached for it, her eyes locked onto the copperhead’s, her hand inching forward almost imperceptibly. The snake glared at her with its beady, malevolent eyes, daring her to come closer, flicking its tongue steadily, communicating to Geneva that one of them would die tonight.
Playing chicken with a copperhead big enough to swallow me whole, she thought grimly. How do I get into these messes? But she was sure she would die right there in the dahlias before she allowed herself to be discovered. It was, to provide an understatement, a very tense moment.
Wayne entered the conversation. “Actually, I think that she’ll make a pretty good wife once she’s convinced that she wants to settle down. She’s almost as much fun as you are, Rachel
.”
“She’s certainly fun loving,” returned Rachel. “But John,” she continued in a warning tone. “Don’t lead her on. I don’t want my sister hurt.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ve already made up my mind on that one. Strictly honorable and all that.”
Geneva thought scornfully, I’m about to be eaten alive by a poisonous snake, and you’re worried about some man hurting me. I’ll show you how tough I can be! She lifted the forked stick and shoved it at the copperhead, pinning its wide, flat head against a mound of soft dirt. Although she pressed with all her strength, she could do no more than imprison it, and she was forced to hold her hand closer than she cared as the snake writhed and flailed at the air around it. Geneva gritted her teeth, sweating, and held on.
Somebody let Sammy back onto the porch. He flopped down noisily, panting, pleased with himself. Now Geneva was free from the threat of discovery via Sammy, but she could not release the snake. She dug in her heels and pressed against the stick, but the copperhead slowly began to squeeze itself forward. Geneva pressed harder, rotating the stick slightly. She prayed it would not break.
Just when she was sure her arm would drop off from fatigue, John commented on the lateness of the hour. On the porch, the trio rose in unison; Sammy thumped his tail, clamoring for a caress. As John said goodnight to his host and hostess, opening the back door and lumbering down the steps, Geneva could have touched the caricature of the cartwheeling cowboy on John’s cast from where she sat. She pressed her head against the porch supports, holding onto the stick desperately as the strength fled from her arm. Silently, she waited until Rachel and Wayne had gone indoors and John had started his Jeep, then she eased sideways until she was able to place the fingertips of her left hand on a sizable stone. Slowly, agonizingly, she reached until the fingers slid over the top of the stone and pulled it toward her. The stick felt slippery in her hand; the snake flipped and lashed out, inching forward. Any moment now its head would be clear enough to reach her.
The sound of John’s engine faded away. Not trusting the strength in her right arm any longer, Geneva bolted from her position, jerked up the rock, and before the snake realized that it had been freed, slammed it squarely on the poisonous head. Trembling, she lifted herself from the flowers, scooted around the side of the house, and hoisted herself into her bedroom for the second time that evening. Then she stripped out of her dirty clothes and fell into bed.
When she awoke, Geneva’s first thought was to find a way to confront Rachel and Wayne about their slander of the night before. It wouldn’t do to upset Rachel this late into her pregnancy, yet she felt she couldn’t wait long before she at least let her know she did not appreciate her underhanded schemes. Some people, thought Geneva, are positively diabolical. Imagine Rachel plotting against her own sister! Because Rachel had been helping John to woo her, Geneva felt a little less piqued than she might have under different circumstances, but what if Rachel tried something like that with someone Geneva did not particularly like? What right had she to help someone trick her into going up to Jacob’s Mountain? Geneva felt the righteous indignation rise up inside her. She would never stoop to such tactics! Irritated with everyone, she rose and went to breakfast.
Over cantaloupe, Rachel asked her if she were still angry with John, but Geneva brushed the question aside.
“You really worried us last night,” Gaynell chided, “and John and several others went off looking for you. It was lucky Rachel found you sleeping in the bed before they got too far.”
“Sorry,” said Geneva, not especially contrite. “I just wanted to be alone for a while, think things over.”
“That’s okay, honey,” said Rachel softly, then changed the subject. “I have a checkup this morning, so I thought I’d ride in with Wayne. If you’re not too busy, maybe you could come into town later on and pick me up. We need some groceries.”
A nice little plan stepped neatly into Geneva’s head. She would get Rachel off alone, away from Wayne, and away from Gaynell, too, who would no doubt stick up for Rachel. Today might just be the perfect day for a drive up the mountain with her loving big sister. After all, it had been a while since they’d had a heart to heart…
“That’s fine,” she said sweetly. “As a matter of fact, I wanted to head over to Hickory Holler today, so we could just go on from there.”
“Why do you want to go to Hickory Holler, Geneva?” asked Wayne.
“Well, you may have noticed I didn’t give you a baby gift last night. I want to go over to that old woman who tats—what’s her name, Mama?”
“Mrs. Wheater?” offered Gaynell.
“Lives in that old house on stilts? Big spring in the back yard?”
“That’s her.”
“I want to commission her to make a pair of christening caps. What do you think?”
“Why, Geneva, what a lovely thought,” said Rachel.
“Oh, I don’t think you should go,” cautioned Gaynell. “There’s a full moon tonight, and I don’t think you should get too far from the hospital. You might just decide to have those babies tonight.”
Rachel laughed. “Mama, you don’t really believe that, do you? I still have four weeks to go, and I don’t feel a bit ready. Just some Braxton-Hicks contractions now and then.”
Wayne countered, “Yes, but you’re awfully big. I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel all the way over to Hickory Holler.”
“Wayne, it’s not that far!” insisted Rachel, “And it’s going to be a beautiful day. I tell you what. I’ll ask Jackie if I can go, and if she says okay, I’ll let you know. We’ll take it easy, maybe take a picnic and be back around dark. I think it will be great fun. Besides, I’m getting a bad case of cabin fever. Riding around can’t be worse than walking.”
“Okay,” sighed Wayne. “But if you feel anything, you turn back. You don’t want to go into early labor back up in the high country.”
“I don’t like it,” insisted Gaynell. “I know what full moons can do. I had both of you at a full moon.”
“Yes, but there aren’t that many premature births during a full moon,” said Wayne. “I think they’ll be all right.”
“Great,” said Rachel happily. Geneva felt a little guilty and decided she would not be too hard on her about the things she had said last night. And she would be getting heirloom lace christening caps for the babies. That, of course, was the real reason for the trip. Geneva finished her breakfast quietly, and after Rachel and Wayne left, she washed the dishes and packed a generous picnic.
“You may need some supper,” worried Gaynell, “so take some extra sandwiches and these bananas and apples.”
“Mom, we’ll be fine,” sighed Geneva, rolling her eyes. “Why is it that mothers are so overprotective?”
By nine thirty, Geneva was off in her little Mazda, quite looking forward to the trip into the high country where the rhododendrons and mountain laurel would still be in bloom. She met Rachel at the clinic, and after Rachel called Wayne and her mother to verify that Dr. Samson had declared her weeks away from delivery, the sisters were off for the drive to Hickory Holler.
If one were in a hurry, one could make the round trip in four hours, but Geneva and Rachel planned to take their time, stopping at every vista view and waterfall and chipmunk burrow. Before they got out of Tucker, they discovered a flea market and stopped for two hours, then Rachel, always hungry, insisted on eating lunch before they began the trip in earnest. It was well after noon before they began their ascent into the high mountains, and some time after that before Geneva could summon up enough remembered anger to discuss the incident of the night before.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Geneva,” groaned Rachel after Geneva had finished with her account of what she had heard and how she felt about it. “That’s exactly what we were talking about. You’re all the time doing things like hiding in the bushes and climbing in windows and telling men you like that you’ve never been serious about anyone, and then you get in an uproar when somebody
tells a joke and you don’t get it. You’re one of the biggest liars I ever knew, but you’d sooner die than admit it. It’s like you’re in some crazy story of your own making, where you’re the heroine, and you keep coming up with more and more bizarre situations just because you can. Don’t you dare accuse me of slandering you. If that snake had bitten you, you would have had some explaining to do.”
“Rachel, that’s not fair. Wouldn’t you try to find out what people were saying if you knew they were talking about you?”
“Of course, but I wouldn’t get mad at somebody else for pulling the same stunt. Sheesh. What a hypocrite.”
“Well, what about your conspiring behind my back with John? You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. But I’m also on his. The two of you are exactly alike, and you belong together. If I have to connive to keep you from blowing the best thing that ever happened to you, I will.”
“What makes you think we’re alike?”
Rachel hooted. “You both are about the most moony-eyed idiots I ever saw. Who else but you would name her stupid cats after great lovers, and who but John would find a way to make his name sound like he was descended from royalty? And speaking of names, Ms. Le Noir, don’t you think it’s a bit much to try to improve on your own father’s name?’
Geneva felt outmaneuvered. “Oh, let’s drop it, Rachel. I forgive you. Now shut up.”
“Oh, thank you! I am forever grateful for your more than generous mercy! Now, are you going to go out with John again or what?”
Geneva tried to pout, but she couldn’t help smiling. It was kind of nice to know that John really was concerned about her. He had gone looking for her last night…
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