A touch. On his arm. He opened his eyes and Mother was patting him. She began signing. Sam is hurt. He may die. He told the sheriff he’s the one who shot Eddie Minks. He said he’s sorry for what he did to you.
Loyal frowned and looked from his parents to the sheriff. No trial? Was it strange that he felt disappointed? Mother mimicked his signing. No trial.
He glanced around the table. The sheriff looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Mother was focusing on him with a joyful expression, Rebecca sat wide-eyed, and Father was trying not to grin. He told himself they were just glad that the murderer had been caught. But Loyal felt twisted up inside, like a spring wanting release.
Father and Sheriff White started talking again. Loyal didn’t even try to follow along. Mother squeezed his hand with a smile and went back to her jelly. Loyal stood and slipped out the screen door. He eased it shut behind him and then ran as hard as he could down to the towering cedar, where he picked up a stick and slammed it against the trunk. The force of the blow ran along his arms and into his shoulders. He hit the trunk again and this time was gratified when the stick snapped, the broken end flying into the air. He stabbed the splintered end into the soil and thumped down beside it, panting.
He jumped when something hit his arm. Whipping his head up, he saw that Michael was perched high in the tree. He worked his way down and dropped to the ground beside Loyal. He formed his hands into claws against his stomach and jerked them upward with a questioning look. Loyal nodded. Yes, he was angry.
Why? Michael signed.
Loyal let his shoulders slump as Rebecca approached them with a worried expression. You okay? she signed. He shrugged.
“What’s eating Loyal?” Michael asked his sister.
“Sam Hacker said he killed that man. Now there won’t be a trial.”
Michael’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “Just like that? It’s over?” She nodded. Michael made a funny shape with his mouth and pumped a fist in the air. He slapped Loyal on the back. “Now that’s good news!”
Loyal began to feel a loosening inside. He’d been so busy thinking that he needed to prove himself to his father that he’d forgotten what this would mean to his friend. For a long time, Michael believed he’d killed a man. And now he knew for a fact that someone else had done it. What a relief that must be! Loyal realized he was acting like a baby. Not so long ago he’d thought Michael was a jerk, but now he knew him better. And it was wrong of him to only consider himself.
Climbing to his feet, Loyal gave Michael a playful punch on the shoulder and managed to find a smile. The assurance of his friend’s innocence—not to mention the innocence of his friend’s father—was what really mattered.
“Does this mean Dad’s coming home?” Michael asked. Loyal shrugged, and Rebecca looked back toward the house.
“We can ask the sheriff,” she said, and the pair took off running.
Loyal watched them for a moment, then settled back under the tree to think. Maybe all three of them could get their fathers back.
Delphy hummed as she finished making jelly. The relief she felt that her son was safe and wouldn’t have to point the finger at anyone made her want to wrap her arms around her husband and show him just how happy she was. But Virgil was still in the room and the kids were just outside. She glanced back at the man who was earning his way back into her heart and gave him the kind of smile that made his eyes go wide and hopeful.
Then the Westfall kids came barreling through the back door and started asking Virgil questions about their father. Creed left them to it and stepped up behind Delphy. He slipped an arm around her waist. She batted at his hand, glancing toward their guests. “Mind your manners,” she said. She could feel her cheeks flush pink and hoped everyone would think it was from the steam of the jelly.
“I’m in a mood to mind more than my manners,” he whispered in her ear. His breath sent chills up and down her body, already warm from the kitchen work.
She gave him a saucy smile, then sobered when she noticed they were missing one person in the room. “Where’s Loyal?”
Creed stayed close, fingers fiddling with her apron strings. “Out back, I think.”
She stilled his hand and tightened her lips. “You need to go talk to him.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think he was excited about the chance to testify.” She began ladling hot jelly into clean jars. “If I had to guess, I’d say he thought it might be a way to impress you. To show you how grown up he is.”
Creed frowned and stayed put as she stepped away to reach her jelly jars. “He doesn’t need to show me anything.”
“I’m not sure he knows that.” She gave her head a little shake. She guessed Creed still had a few things to learn about his son.
Virgil stood, pushing his chair back from the table. “Time I got back to Elkins.” He smiled at the kids. “There’s the small matter of getting Hadden back home to his family.” Rebecca beamed, and even Michael looked pleased. “Otto too.”
“You need my help?” Creed asked.
“Nope. And for once it’s not because you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” Virgil said the words with a grin. “You just stay here and take it easy. Finish healing up.”
Creed’s hand went to the site of his wound. “Sure thing.” Virgil slapped his hat on his head and left through the front door. Michael and Rebecca sat at the table, heads close together, talking over their father’s homecoming.
Delphy elbowed Creed. “Quit stalling.”
He sighed. “Alright. I’ll go talk to him, although I think you’re wrong.”
“I hope so,” she said and began pouring wax seals over her cooling jelly.
Creed could see Loyal sitting under the big cedar down at the bottom of the yard. He was stabbing at the ground with a stick, seemingly lost in thought. He saw Creed coming and sat up straighter but didn’t smile. Creed squatted next to his son and nodded at him.
“Michael and Rebecca’s father is coming home.” He looked at the boy who was quickly becoming a man. Made sure he could see his lips easily. Loyal nodded and managed a weak smile. “Guess you’ll miss them.” He hadn’t thought of that before. Maybe Delphy was wrong and Loyal was just upset his friends would be leaving. “Must get lonesome around here for you,” he said. Loyal shrugged.
“I know what. Let’s go up the mountain and fetch down that pie safe for your mother.” Loyal looked mildly interested. “We could spend a day or two up there, just two men living off the land and doing some real work. Then, when we get back, it’ll be time for the county fair.” A slow smile crept over Loyal’s face. He nodded. “You could even teach me some more signs.”
Okay, Loyal signed with a proper smile. Creed gave him a one-armed hug and motioned back toward the house. They rose and walked the short distance. Creed did his best to ignore the fact that he had failed to take his wife’s advice.
That night, Loyal slept alone in his room. He did miss having Michael and Rebecca around—mostly Rebecca—but it was also nice to be alone again. He was looking forward to spending time with Father up on Rich Mountain, but he was still sad that he would have to go back to school soon. Who would have thought the summer he found a dead body would leave him feeling so . . . normal.
In the past he’d spent summers with mostly just Mother for company. He did things at church sometimes, but even when the other kids tried to include him it was hard. They’d forget he couldn’t hear. Rebecca was the first person to really try to use his own language to communicate with him. And now Michael knew some sign language, too.
And he was learning how to interact with hearing people better every day. He knew he could handle going to school with the kids in Beverly. Especially since he and Rebecca would be in the same class. That thought made him smile. He guessed if he was ever going to have a girlfriend, he’d want Rebecca to be the one. That sure wasn’t going to happen if he went away to school.
The question was . . . how
to convince Mother and Father? He’d hoped that doing well in the courtroom, showing how he could hold his own among hearing people, would help. But now he wasn’t going to have that chance. Which meant he’d have to come up with something else. Father had said they could stop and visit Michael and Rebecca on their way up Rich Mountain. He’d see if they had any good ideas.
Father followed Mr. Westfall into his study when they arrived at the big brick house the next morning. Loyal went with Michael and Rebecca out onto the side porch, where Mrs. Tompkins gave them slices of freshly baked bread slathered with butter and sprinkled with sugar. They were too busy eating at first to say much, but once everyone swallowed the last bite and licked their fingers, Loyal made the sign for father and raised his eyebrows.
“The sheriff let him go,” Rebecca said. “Brought all of us home in his police car. I think Daddy’s different now.” She glanced at Michael as though looking for confirmation, yet her brother’s expression stayed serious.
“I’m not so sure.” He shrugged. “Seems like things are getting back to the way they used to be pretty fast.”
Loyal bit his lip, glad for once that he wasn’t expected to find the right words.
Rebecca jumped in as if trying to scoot past the uncomfortable moment. “I’m just glad he’s home in time for the fair. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the pageant with Daddy locked up.” She gave her brother a playful shove. “Even Michael’s going to be in it, although he said he didn’t want to be David Hart, so Reverend Harriman has to find someone else.”
Loyal perked up. He liked the annual fair well enough, but he’d always gone with Mother. Which wasn’t all that much fun. He ended up looking at canned goods, quilts, and flower arrangements the ladies entered to win ribbons. Mother never let him visit the tents where the hawkers offered chances to see all kinds of wonderful and terrible things. And while he’d watched the annual pageant that told the story of the Civil War battle fought on Rich Mountain, he’d never paid much attention to who was in it. Can I be in the pageant? he signed.
“That would be great,” Rebecca said, and he could see her enthusiasm. “You’d make a wonderful soldier.” He finger-spelled D-a-v-i-d H-a-r-t. “Really? You want to do the main role? The only one with more lines is General McClellan.” She wrinkled her forehead. “How’s that going to work?”
Loyal grinned and elbowed Michael. I sign. Michael talks.
“Now wait just a minute.” Michael held up both hands. “I already said I didn’t want to do it. I hate memorizing stuff.” Read, Loyal signed.
“Oh, I get it. Loyal will sign his part and you can just stand backstage and read what he’s saying.” Rebecca clapped her hands. “It’ll be wonderful!”
“Reverend Harriman will never go for it,” Michael grumbled.
Loyal winked at Rebecca, and she laughed, knowing just what he had in mind. “We won’t tell him. You’ll say you’re going to do the part after all and then Loyal will take over as soon as the pageant starts. By the time the pastor realizes what’s happening, it’ll be too late.” She laughed harder. “And he’ll be too embarrassed to stop the pageant.”
Michael grinned. “It might be worth it just to see his face.” He turned to Loyal. “But why do you want to do it?”
My father, Loyal signed, thinks I can’t.
Michael nodded, his smile slipping away. “I know how that is.” He gave Loyal a speculative look. “We’ll just have to show him you can.”
thirty-five
Creed was glad to have Loyal with him up on the mountain again. They finished the pie safe and dug the last of the ginseng for the season. Creed showed Loyal how to start drying the roots. He even planned to give his son part of the profits this year. But as much as he enjoyed the boy’s company, there was a reserve that felt new. A holding back that he could swear hadn’t been there before.
“If we can get this pie safe down to Hadden’s place, he’ll bring it on into town for us in his car.” Loyal nodded and flexed an arm to show that he could help carry the small piece of furniture. “Glad there’s a good trail and it’s downhill all the way.” Creed used his hands to talk more than he used to. It wasn’t quite sign language, but then again it was in a way.
Loyal smiled without giving it his full attention. He’d been that way for two days now. Creed suspected the boy was dreading his return to school but that couldn’t be helped. He needed to learn as much as he could for as long as he could. Shoot, that was why they’d dug all this ginseng—so there’d be money to pay for the schooling.
Creed wanted to tell his son how much he’d miss him. How much he loved him and how proud he was of the man he was growing into. But the words felt awkward, and better words escaped him. Maybe Delphy could help him find the right ones. He warmed at the thought of his wife. This fall he wouldn’t be living up on the mountain. He’d be at home with the woman he loved. And come Christmas, Loyal would join them and they’d truly be a family. And who knew? Maybe next year the boy could go to school in town.
Cheered by the thought, he pushed his son’s moodiness away. He waved to get Loyal’s attention. “I was thinking we’d stay one more night. If you want, though, we can head on down the mountain and surprise your mother.” Loyal smiled and nodded.
Creed was glad but also felt a pang. Maybe Loyal didn’t want to linger here alone with him. He’d noticed how the boy looked at Hadden’s daughter. She was a pretty little thing and was always kind to Loyal. Did his son have a crush on the girl? Well, he’d be fourteen come spring. He guessed it was time.
“Want to see if the Westfall kids can come for Sunday supper?” he asked. This time Loyal’s smile climbed all the way to his eyes. He nodded. “Say, they might like to come to the fair with us, too. It starts next week.” He gave Loyal a playful punch on the arm. “Seems like I said something about you going around with your friends instead of old folks like your mom and me.” Loyal flushed, and Creed figured he had it right about Rebecca.
“Alright then,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get this pie safe down the mountain.” Loyal leapt to his feet ready to go. Creed laughed. Maybe all his son was suffering from was the effects of his first case of puppy love.
While Father talked to Mr. Westfall, Loyal and his friends sat on the front steps. There was an amazing view from here all the way down to the Tygart River, but Loyal didn’t have time for gazing at the lush mountain landscape. Michael told Reverend Harriman that he would play the role of David Hart, the young man who’d led Union troops into Confederate-friendly Beverly in July of 1861 to gain control of the Staunton-Parkersburg Turnpike. The deciding battle had been fought on the farm where David’s father lived, not far from where they sat. Although David hadn’t been too popular at the time, he was a local hero now.
“Here’s the script,” Michael said, handing it to Loyal. “There really aren’t that many lines—it’s mostly just acted out.” Loyal nodded as he scanned the pages. “We’re practicing it tomorrow evening at church. Can you come and see how it goes?”
Loyal signed yes, then swallowed hard as he looked over the part he was going to have to act out without much practice. It wasn’t too hard, but the magnitude of what he planned to do was becoming real for him. If this went wrong, Father would be embarrassed. As would Mother. And he might even get his friends in trouble. He looked at them with worried eyes.
Trouble? he signed. Rebecca watched and bit her lip. “You’re asking if we . . . oh”—she lit up—“trouble. You want to know if we’ll get into trouble.”
Michael got a wicked grin on his face. “Maybe. But it’ll be worth it.” Loyal looked at Rebecca, who signed don’t worry with a radiant smile. Loyal threw an arm around each of his friends and gave them a hug. He figured, whatever happened, it was already worth it.
Soon after Creed and Loyal got back to the house in town, Virgil turned up. Loyal had already disappeared into his room with a roll of paper that Creed suspected Rebecca had given him. Maybe his boy would have a pen pal whi
le he was away at school this year. That would be good for him.
Virgil settled himself in a wing chair and jumped right into what he had to say. “Sam Hacker didn’t make it.” Virgil slid both hands over his shiny pate and flung them to the side like he was getting rid of something. “Bad ending, but I’m glad he decided to set the record straight before he died. Seems Clyde had it in mind to sell out to the government—thought he could give his boys a new start somewhere else. Sam didn’t want to lose the ‘family business.’ Then on top of that, he learned Eddie and Earl were planning to cheat Clyde on the deal.” He heaved a sigh. “He offered to meet those two boys and lead ’em out to the homeplace so that Clyde could sign on the dotted line. Guess if Eddie had turned up that morning, they’d both be dead and the bodies washed down the Tygart somewhere.”
“How’s Clyde taking it?”
“Who knows? He’s tougher than mule hide and doesn’t much yammer on about anything. Said they’d have a family burial out there on the mountain. I took that to mean I wasn’t invited.”
Delphy stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’ll make a pound cake to take to Bernie.”
Virgil laughed softly and shook his head. “Julia’s taking a pot of chicken and dumplings. I never know what to do or say in a situation like this, but the women know, don’t they?”
Creed nodded. “So, what happens now?”
“Well, there’s no one to lock up for murder, but Judge Kline had more than enough evidence to throw Earl in jail for the scheme those two were running to skim money off the new community project. The federal boys are coming for him Monday.” Virgil grunted. “Those fellers don’t mess around. I’m betting that’s the last we see of Earl for a long time. Maybe ever.”
The Right Kind of Fool Page 25