Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer
“As far as I know, he doesn't have one.”
That wasn't right. Every critter should have a name. “He does now. We'll call him Beauregard. Beau for short.” She waved at the photographer, then flapped her hand at Beauregard. “Bye, Beau! See you tomorrow!” She lit out for home as if her feet had wings.
Rebekah
R
ebekah coiled a strand of Trudy's damp hair around her finger and then tied it with a piece of rag. In the morning the little girl would have lovely curls for church. Rebekah reached for another rag.
Cissy flopped onto her tummy next to Rebekah. The entire bed bounced, and the strips of muslin danced out of reach. Cissy propped her chin in her hands and grinned. “It's kinda like havin' a party with you sleepin' over, Bek.”
Rebekah stifled the complaint rising on her tongue. Cissy had been in an exceptionally good mood all evening. She shouldn't spoil it by scolding. So she smiled at her sister and gathered the rag strips in a pile beside her knee again.
“Had my party all day.” Jessie sat cross legged on the next bed with her nightgown scrunched up over her knees, examining the pink lines marking her calves. “Didn't even mind gettin' all scratched up when Bek took that horse o' hers between prickly shrubs. I wish I could go ridin' with Bek an' Mr. Bale every Saturday.”
Della nudged her. “Quit your braggin', Jess. The rest of us had to work. We didn't get to go gallivantin' through the hills with Bek's good-lookin' fella.”
Jessie flopped backward, her limbs thrown out in all directions, and sighed. “He is mighty handsome. An' nice, too.” She sat up. “Is he your beau, Bek?”
Rebekah's heart lurched. Her throat went tight. She wished she could say yes. Her day with Devlin had been so pleasurable, so enlightening. Seeing how easily he talked to peopleâall people, even the ones who were standoffish or a little grumpyâincreased her admiration for him. Watching him tease with Jessie, always kind and patient, gave Rebekah a peek at what kind of father he would be. She was supposed to introduce him to the folks nearby, but instead he'd introduced himself to her in a whole different way.
She tied off the last of Trudy's pin curls, gave the little girl a gentle push from the bed, and finally answered Jessie. “No. He's not my beau.”
“Think he might be someday?”
Rebekah turned firm. With Jessie and with herself. “He'll be going back to Lexington when he finishes the map of the cave. So it'd be a waste of time for me to think about being sparked by DevâMr. Bale.”
Jessie sighed, her expression dreamy. “I liked him. A lot better'n any o' the fellas 'round here.”
Cissy shook her head. “Jessie, you ain't old enough to be thinkin' about fellas. Besides, you ain't seen handsome 'til you seenâ” She bolted off the bed and tossed the covers aside. “If we don't all stop yammerin', Daddy's gonna come in here an' threaten to wear us all out.”
The younger girls muttered, but they climbed under their covers and nestled against their pillows. In unison, they recited their bedtime prayers, and then Della said, “Turn out the light, Bek.”
She turned the key on the lamp, and shadows shrouded the room.
Cissy wriggled onto her side facing Rebekah and tapped her shoulder. “Bek?”
Caught up in remembering bits and pieces of her day, she didn't want to be disturbed.
“Rebekah?” Cissy still whispered, but her tone changed from calm to insistent.
Rebekah sighed. “We're supposed to go to sleep, Cissy.”
“I know but⦔ Her warm breath touched Rebekah's cheek, as light as the fingers resting on her shoulder. “Are you keepin' some of the money you make at the cave?”
“No. I'm giving it all to Daddy.” Only one more week and she'd get her first full pay envelope. Daddy'd already shown her the little sack where he intended to set aside every penny of her pay for their legacy.
“Don't you wanna keep any of it?”
Not until the cemetery was done. And that would be a while. “No.”
Cissy sighed. “You reckon Daddy'll expect me to give over everything Mr. Temperance pays me tomorrow? I was kinda hopin' to keep some. Use it forâ¦myself.”
Rebekah had been plenty surprised when Daddy gave permission for Cissy to work at the cave on a Sunday afternoon. Sunday was resting dayâalways had been. But maybe Daddy decided Cissy was getting old enough to make some decisions for herself. She hoped Cissy would make wise choices. She loved her sister, but she worried about her penchant toward foolhardiness.
She whispered, “Ask Daddy in the morning. With my money coming in and the money from the mushrooms, he probably won't mind you keeping some of it.”
“How much do you think? Half? Maybe more?”
“I don't know, Cissy. Now stop talking and go to sleep before we bother the little girls.”
Cissy huffed and rolled to her back. She lay quiet for so long Rebekah thought she'd drifted off to sleep. But then her soft voice tiptoed through the darkness again. “If I can't keep enough money for a ticket, I'll buy me a new dress. An' that'll be my ticket.”
Rebekah jerked toward Cissy. “What's that mean?”
Her sister didn't answer.
Afraid of waking the others, Rebekah settled against the pillow and closed her eyes. But sleep evaded her for many hours.
Cissy
Before taking the burro from the stable, Cissy caught hold of his jaw and made him look at her. “All right, Beau, you listen up now. If you don't wanna be turned into a pot o' glue, you're gonna need to be good today. Good as you smell.” Whoever'd bathed him used a rose-scented soap. The burro smelled good enough to go courting. “So you just stand real still by me, let them rich people climb up on your back long enough for Mr. Temperance to take their picture, an' don't make a single little fuss. We'll both fare well.”
Beau bobbed his head and tapped one shoe against the ground.
Cissy laughed. “That's a good boy.” She pulled the traces. “C'mon now. Let's go.”
Mr. Temperance smiled as she guided Beau to the spot on the lawn where he'd set up a screen painted to look like a barn front. Hay lay all over the ground, and a barrel and little length of picket fence sat in front of the screen. She wanted to ask why he didn't take the pictures in front of the real barn, but she decided not to pester him too much about his business. He might change his mind about letting her stay.
She positioned Beau in the center of the hay. The burro lowered his head to take a bite, but she gave the traces a little pull. “Huh-uh. None o' that. I told you, you gotta stand still an' be nice.”
Mr. Temperance chuckled and came out from behind the three-legged stand holding up his camera. “I'm glad to see you're taking control of our cantankerous creature.”
Cissy patted the pocket in the seam of her skirt. “I brought two cut-up apples from our cellar to treat 'im when he does good.”
“Very wise. Do you find his appearance pleasing?”
She nodded. “He looks real good. Not a burr to be found, an' he smells even better than me. Like a whole bouquet of roses. I just used lye soap in my bath.”
The man laughed long and hard. Her hackles rose. She bit the insides of her cheeks to stay quiet. She'd told Beau to behave, so she needed to set a good example by not telling the photographer to stop poking fun at her, but it wasn't easy.
Still chortling, Mr. Temperance crossed to a wooden box beneath a nearby cottonwood and removed a straw hat. He plunked it on Cissy's head, then stood back and gave her a head-to-toe look. He nodded. “Perfect. With your homespun dress, braids, and that hat, you could easily pass for a little stable hand.”
Cissy seethed. He thought her nicest dress, the one Mama'd sewn from store-bought green muslin and touched up with hand-tatted lace, looked like something a person wore to work in a barn? She grabbed the brim of the hat, ready to throw it at him and storm off.
He looked beyond her, and his face lit. He waved. “Come on over, folks! We're ready for you.” He aimed a warning look at Cissy and lowered his voice. “Keep a grip on ol' Beauregard now. I've got a dozen people signed up for photographs, and that means three dollars coming in.” He hurried behind the camera.
She quickly added it in her head. If he made three dollars, then thirty-six cents would be hers. She leaned close and whispered in one of Beau's pointed ears, “Be good, you hear me?”
Just as she'd asked him to, Beau stood meekly next to Cissy and didn't even bray when people climbed onto his back. To reward him, she sneaked him little pieces of apple in between Mr. Temperance's use of the camera. As the hours wore on, she wondered how Beau managed to stay in one spot. Her feet hurt and she wanted to wiggle. But time and again she stood as still as a statue, holding on to Beau's reins and smiling for the camera.
At six o'clock Mr. Temperance folded up the camera's stand and laid it gently in the grass. Then he crossed to her and tapped the top of her straw hat. “Well done, Miss Hardin. Old Beauregard was as good as gold today. You transformed an irascible beast into a purring pussycat.” He reached to scratch Beau's ears, but the burro shied away and snapped at his hand. He leaped back and scowled at the animal. “Then again, maybe you haven't.”
Cissy slipped her arm over Beau's neck. “Remember what you promised, Mr. Temperance. You said if he behaved today, you wouldn't sell him to the glue factory.”
“He isn't going to do me an ounce of good if the only time he behaves is in your presence.”
Cissy's mind started whirling. Quick as a striking snake, she blurted, “Then I guess you're gonna hafta to hire me on for good.”
The man shook his head, his lips puckering up. “You're still in school. You couldn't be here every day even if I wanted to hire you.”
“But school's almost out for the summer. Just one more week an' I could be at your beck an' call.” Cissy had to convince him to take her on as his assistant. If she made thirty-six cents every day, she could put almost four dollars in her pocket every week. That was more than Bek made. By the end of summer, if she stuck around and if Daddy let her keep half her pay, the way he'd told her at breakfast, she'd have enough money for new clothes and tickets for the stagecoach and train, and enough left over to get her set up in her new town.