Guide Me Home (35 page)

Her chin quivered. “He ain't noticin' me at all, Mr. Temperance. An' I know why. It's 'cause I don't dress pretty or talk pretty. I was fine for him 'til they came along. But now…” She sniffed and swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I guess you was right about me bein' entertainment to Nick. An' seein' as how there's just one of me, I can't hold a candle to those two.”

Mr. Temperance sent a glance over his shoulder and scowled. “I didn't want to be right, Cissy. I hoped your boy might prove me wrong.” He patted her shoulder. “Don't let him bother you. If his head can be turned by a pair of supercilious porcelain dolls, he isn't worthy of you.”

But she still wanted him. She scuffed her bare foot over the blades of grass. “Yes, sir.”

“Chin up, now.”

She squared her shoulders and nodded.

“Good girl.” He strode to the camera, calling, “Next!”

A teenage boy separated himself from the group and trotted over.

Cissy greeted the guest and smiled the way Mr. Temperance expected, but inside she imagined Real and Reflection coming to sit on Beau. She'd step aside and let Beau give them a good nip. No, two nips. Hard ones. Back where their satin ribbons fluttered. When Mr. Temperance said to smile, she gave him a genuine one. What a fine daydream…

But then she reminded herself that if Beau bit anybody again, Mr. Temperance would take the burro to the glue factory. No more little fuzzy-chinned friend named Beauregard. No more money in her pocket. No more chances to win Nick away from the rich girls. It was a bad idea, but she let herself imagine it again. The thought kept a smile on her face.

“All done for today.” Mr. Temperance sent a smile over the people still standing around. “Sign up on the board in the office for tomorrow's photography session.”

Cissy turned her back on the group and put her arms around Beau's neck. She nuzzled his stiff hide, enjoying his dusty smell. “Let's you an' me head to the barn, fella. I'll get you all brushed down an' tucked in, an' then—”

“Are you finished for the day, Cissy?”

She jolted upright. Nick stood close, hands in his pockets, smiling his warm smile. Something inside of her melted. Then she noticed Real and Reflection a few feet away, smirking. She iced up. “Why do you care?”

His smile dimmed. “I thought you and I had…an arrangement.”

“I thought so, too.” She flashed a glower at the twins. “But I ain't gonna share you with them two.”

He glanced at the twins. His eyebrows shot up. “Are you talking about my cousins?”

She gaped at him. He was kin to Real and Reflection? She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Daphne and Delphinia arrived this morning along with my uncle Rufus, my aunt Twyla, and their brother, Bartholomew. Daph and Delph are a year older than me, and Bart is a year younger than my brother, Lawrence. Our families vacation together every year.”

Cissy nibbled the inside of her cheek while worry nibbled at her insides. “So they're stayin' for six weeks, too?”

He grinned. “Only four. Uncle Rufus can't abide country air for longer than that.” He chucked her under the chin. “You weren't jealous, were you? You ought to know by now you're my best girl.”

The ice dissolved. She hunched her shoulders and giggled. A clearing throat intruded. She shot a look at Mr. Temperance, who watched them with a frown. She giggled again. He'd been so wrong about Nick. She bounded over to him. “Mr. Temperance, Nick an' me are gonna take a walk by the creek. Can I take Beau with me?” Real and Reflection hadn't come near the burro.

Mr. Temperance aimed a short glare at Nick. “Are you sure that's what you want to do?”

Her boss was as prickly as a porcupine facing a wildcat. She covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. “Them two supersilly porcelain dolls? They're Nick's cousins. He says I'm his best girl.” She let the giggle escape. “So see? We was both wrong. Ain't it grand?”

Why'd he still look so worried? Cissy stomped her foot and huffed. “Mr. Temperance, can I take Beau with me or not? I'm wastin' time I could be spendin' with Nick.”

He flicked his hands at her. “Go on then. I'll leave your pay in Beau's stall. You can collect it there when you return with him.”

She gave a happy little hop. “Thank you, Mr. Temperance!” She dashed off.

His voice trailed after her. “Keep that animal between you.”

She waved to let him know she heard, but he hadn't needed to tell her such a thing. She already planned to use Beau as a barrier between her and Nick's cousins.

Devlin

S
ince he had accepted Cal Adwell's invitation to lunch, Devlin decided it would be wise to attend services at the Good Spring Chapel. He intended to spelunk in the Adwell cave when he'd finished eating, so he chose not to wear a suit. Mother would frown, but she hadn't seen the number of bib overalls over patched white shirts and frayed string ties at the Joppa church last week. His good trousers, shirt, suspenders, and ruby-red silk tie would still put him several steps above most of the men in the congregation when measuring formality.

He located Junior in the barn and asked if Marey was available.

Junior nodded, making his thick brown bangs fall across his eyes. He shoved the strands aside and sauntered to the horse's stall. “You gonna be gone all day, Mr. Bale?”

“I'm not sure. Until midafternoon at least.” He snagged a coiled rope from a peg. “May I borrow this, too?”

Junior grunted as he tossed the saddle over Marey's back. “Don't reckon Mr. Vance'd mind as long as you bring it back.” He peeked at Devlin from beneath Marey's belly as he tightened the cinch straps. “You've got pretty attached to Marey, haven't you?”

He shrugged. “She's dependable.” And Marey didn't plod like old Lightning. He had farther to go this Sunday than last, and he didn't want to chance arriving after the service began. Entering a church service late was very poor form. Devlin tapped his foot in eagerness while Junior scuffed around the animal, checking straps and adjusting the bit.

Finally the youth stepped aside. “Ready to go.”

Devlin strapped the satchel containing his necessary tools to the saddle horn, looped the rope over his shoulder as Tolly did in the cave, and climbed into the squeaky leather seat. Once settled, he tossed the stable hand a nickel. The boy caught it, pocketed it, and grinned his thanks. Devlin nodded and aimed Marey for the road.

He'd traveled the county road—what he'd come to call the Hardin Road—so many times he followed it without conscious thought. As he rode in the shade cast by clustering trees, he envisioned the cabins and clearings hidden behind the seemingly impenetrable woods. Every image in his head was picturesque. Peaceful. The perfect park setting. And so many of the properties included caves. Caves with the potential of increasing the scope of Mammoth Cave. A tremble built in his chest.

As he had last Sunday, he fell in with others going the same direction. Among them was the Hardin family. He stayed well behind their wagon. His conversation with Reb weighed heavily on him. Not necessarily because he thought she was right but because their difference of opinion raised such a tremendous mountain between them, robbing them of the slightest chance for friendship. The loss created a greater sadness in the center of his heart than he cared to admit.

Ahead, a white clapboard rectangular building with two doors on the front and a simple sloped roof waited in a small clearing. He reined Marey to a halt and did a double take. Had it not been for the absence of a cemetery, he would have believed he'd somehow found his way back to the Joppa church. The structures were identical.

He clicked his tongue on his teeth, urging Marey into motion. As he drew closer to the yard, he realized there was a cemetery, but the graves were arranged in haphazard rows behind the church rather than beside it. He pulled back on Marey's reins and watched Mr. Hardin assist his wife and children from their wagon. He found himself taken once again by the husband and wife's courtliness despite their humble trappings. Reb came from good stock.

He battled a grin when the two smallest girls ran in unladylike fashion across the yard and darted into the building. Clearly they were familiar and at ease with the place of worship. As he observed Mr. Hardin escort his wife up the steps, Devlin wondered why they hadn't buried their deceased family members in the church graveyard. The plot appeared well cared for and peaceful. Perhaps having their loved ones' resting places nearby gave them a sense of comfort.

He trailed the later arrivals, which included Cal Adwell and an older couple he presumed were his parents, across the patchy grass and up the steps. Like the Joppa church, the sanctuary contained simple wood pews and a small dais and podium, but someone had given the wainscoting a coat of green paint, and the floorboards wore a scuffed covering of white paint. No potbelly stovepipe blocked his view from his position on the back pew.

A middle-aged, balding man wearing a suit with shiny elbows and a fraying lapel circled the room, shaking hands, patting little ones on the head, and speaking congenially. He made his way to the rear of the room, and his gaze fell on Devlin. His face lit, and he approached with his hand extended.

“Well, hello, stranger. Welcome to Good Spring Chapel. I'm Preacher Haynes. It's a real pleasure to have you join us this fine summer mornin'. And just who might you be? Not that it matters. You're welcome here no matter who you are.”

“Good morning.” Devlin accepted the man's hand, wincing at the preacher's firm grip. “My name is Devlin Bale. It's very nice to be with you and your congregation today.”

“Devlin Bale, Devlin Bale…Where have I heard that name?” He pinched his chin, his forehead turning into a series of deep furrows. Then he brightened. “Ah yes! My good friend Tolly Sandford told me about you. You're the young man from the university in Lexington who's drafting a map of the big cave.”

Somehow it didn't surprise him that Tolly was friends with this white preacher. He smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir, that's me.”

Preacher Haynes clamped his hand over Devlin's shoulder and gave a squeeze. “In just a moment we'll start the service, but before we do, would you mind comin' up front an' lettin' me introduce you to the folks o' Good Spring? It's always a treat to have a fresh face among us for Sunday mornin' service.”

Be paraded in front of everyone? Including Reb and her family? Devlin started to refuse. But what better opportunity to have his name and face made known to those whose property butted the estate? Being introduced by a minister would remove any seeds of distrust from the people's minds. Reb's question tapped the back door of his mind.
“Why not ask them if they want the chance at a different kind of life?”

He rose and stepped out of the pew. “Yes, sir. I'd like you to introduce me to the folks of your congregation. And then, if you have time, may I share a word or two?”

“None of them'll leave 'til I give the go-ahead. We've got as much time as we care to take.” The preacher planted his hand on Devlin's back, propelling him up the aisle. “So come along, young man, come along.”

Rebekah

“Lookit, Bek, Mr. Bale's here.”

Rebekah gave a start at Tabitha's announcement. She sent her gaze in the direction of her sister's pointing finger and spotted Preacher Haynes accompanying Devlin up the aisle to the preaching platform. Daddy and Mama gave her questioning looks, as if she should know the reason for his presence. She shrugged, and they turned their attention to the front.

When the minister stepped onto the platform, the soft conversations taking place in various pews in the room quickly faded. He smiled and boomed, “Good mornin', brothers an' sisters!”

“Good mornin', Preacher Haynes,” they recited.

“Is it a good day to be in the house of the Lord?”

“Yes, sir!”

The familiar routine seemed alien with Devlin standing at the edge of the dais, hands clasped loosely in front of him and a half grin bringing out the dimple in his cheek.

Preacher Haynes gestured to Devlin, and Devlin joined him. The preacher put his arm around Devlin's shoulders and beamed at the congregation. “Folks, this here is Devlin Bale, a man who's come all the way from Lexington to spend his summer at Mammoth Cave. Tolly Sandford—you all know Tolly—”

Across the room heads bobbed.

“He tells me Devlin's drawin' up a map of the big cave for his college.”

Murmurs rolled through the sanctuary.

“When I greeted Devlin, he asked if he could speak a word or two to us before we get started this mornin'.”

Rebekah sucked in a breath and held it.

“So you all give him the same attention you bestow on me.” The preacher chuckled. “Or maybe a little better attention from some of you who like to catch a nap durin' the preachin'.”

Now chuckles, some self-conscious, rumbled. Rebekah's held breath eased out with her soft laugh, and she nudged Cissy. Only last Sunday she'd had to gently wake Cissy twice when her sister dozed on her shoulder.

Devlin cleared his throat and stood erect, his pose reflecting ease and self-confidence. “As Preacher Haynes indicated, I came to the Mammoth Cave estate to craft a map of the cave's intricate inner workings. I am a cartography student at the University of Kentucky. The map will be my senior project and, hopefully, will help me acquire employment when my studies are complete. But I also have a second reason for spending my summer in your beautiful hollow.”

He drew a breath and Rebekah did, too. She gripped her hands in her lap, clutching so tightly they trembled. He was going to do it. He was going to come right out and tell everybody he wanted the government to buy their land. Would they all rise up and ride him out of Good Spring on a rail?

“I believe this hollow and the amazing underground natural structure known as Mammoth Cave shouldn't be selfishly preserved for the enjoyment of a handful of people. I believe folks from all over Kentucky—all over the United States—should be able to come here, breathe in your crisp, clean air, fish in your crystal-clear streams, and experience the wonder of Mammoth Cave.”

Rebekah sent a furtive glance across the room. The people were listening, heads tipped, brows furrowed. Curious rather than condemning. But she knew what else he intended to say. How quickly would their expressions change?

“Thus, I'm exploring the possibility of the government assuming ownership of the cave and the land surrounding it and making the hollow a state park.”

A collective gasp rattled the rafters.

“You're wantin' us to sell out to the government?” The angry blast came from the back corner of the room.

“How much would I get?” The eager question quavered from the front.

Devlin held up his hands. “Folks, I'm not here to make offers or speak on behalf of governmental officials. As I told you earlier, I'm only a college student. But I do plan to visit each of the families in the hollow and gather information to share with those who are in a position to make the land transfer possible. I'm particularly interested in properties with caves.”

“So if I don't got a cave on my place, you ain't gonna come callin'?”

Devlin shifted slightly, seeming to search for the speaker. “I—”

Orval Spencer, who was seated in front of Rebekah, bolted to his feet and jammed his beefy finger at Devlin. “You show up on my property, boy, an' you can expect a backside full o' buckshot. Ain't no government man gonna take my land.”

Cal stood and aimed a grin at Spencer. “Government'd prob'ly pay a good price, Orval.” He nodded at Devlin. “I'll give a listen to your offer, Devlin.”

All across the room, voices exploded.

“If the price is right, I'll sure enough give it some consideration.”

“Government's already got my taxes. It ain't gonna get anything more'n that from me.”

“I might sell off a piece o' my place, but I won't sell my house.”

“Why's the government stickin' its nose in our hollow? Ain't there better things to do than bother with us?”

Little Nellie climbed into Rebekah's lap and clung.

Preacher Haynes waved his arms. “Folks, folks, settle yourselves down.”

The uproar continued.

“I said shush!”

At the preacher's bellowed command, the hubbub dwindled to a few raspy whispers. He shook his head, gawking at the crowd. “I'm plumb ashamed of you all. This poor boy's probably worryin' about facin' a lynch mob.”