The Librarian of Boone's Hollow Read online

  Dusty scrunched his nose. His legs stilled.

  “In another place, Jesus Himself told people, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’ He was talking about doing good things, but I think we can apply the rule to unkind things, too. That whatever we do to others, it’s the same as if we’ve done it to Jesus.” She tilted her head a bit and peered directly into Dusty’s face. “Would you say Jesus is as loony as a rabid coon?”

  Dusty’s lower lip poked out. “No. But Jesus don’t deserve it, ’cause He don’t do dumb things like peekin’ in people’s windows or—”

  “The Bible doesn’t say we should be kind only to people we think deserve it. It says, ‘Be ye kind,’ so that’s what we must do.” Addie patted the back of Dusty’s hand and let go. “We aren’t going to talk in mean ways about Bettina or anyone else for that matter, agreed?”

  Dusty hung his head. “Aw, all right.” Then he sat up and held his head at a defiant angle. “But I ain’t the one who said it first. Paw did. So you need to tell him to be kind.”

  Addie laughed. “Maybe I will.” She turned to Emmett. Her lips quirked into a remorseful grimace. “I hope I didn’t offend you by speaking so frankly to Dusty.”

  Emmett ambled forward, awed by her kindness even when offering correction. She’d be an amazing teacher. Or mother. “No, not at all. I was going to swat his behind. I think you handled it better.”

  She smiled. “I lived in an orphanage when I was a little girl, and people often spoke unkindly of me and to me. I retaliated with the same treatment. Even after I was adopted, I sometimes called people names or said mean things, probably trying to make myself feel more important. But my new mother and daddy assured me that I was loved very much by them and even more by God, and they taught me with patience and kindness to treat others the way I wanted to be treated. I truly have never regretted being kind to someone, but I have regretted doing the opposite.”

  Suddenly he understood her tenacity in reaching out to the hills people and her willingness to continue living with Nanny Fay, even though it made her a social outcast. “You have very wise parents.”

  “Indeed I do, and I can’t wait to see what they sent us. So can we go?”

  The impish gleam in her eyes made him laugh. “Yes, by all means, let’s go.”

  He assisted her onto the wagon seat. She’d braided her long hair, which was pretty smart, considering how wind tossed it’d likely get during the ride to Lynch and back, and she wore a dress—green with white dots scattered here and there and a crisp white collar. He’d gotten so accustomed to seeing her in the pair of men’s overalls that she seemed especially feminine and attractive. And he needed to shut those thoughts down.

  “Interbusiness relationships wreak havoc with morale and productivity.” Professor Downing’s droning voice could lull a person to sleep, but Emmett recalled the stringent warning. He was doing his best to avoid any kind of relationship with Bettina. He’d be wise to apply the same effort with Addie.

  Lynch

  Addie

  THREE CRATES! ADDIE almost danced with glee right there on the loading dock at the Lynch depot. She’d expected one, possibly two…but three? And large ones at that. Large enough that Dusty’s feet dangled a good six inches from the ground when he sat on one.

  Addie stood beside Dusty’s throne and waited for Emmett to locate someone to help him load the crates into the back of the wagon. She’d tried, but they proved too heavy for her. She rubbed Dusty’s back, and he rubbed his tummy.

  “I feel real bad, Addie.” His mournful expression pierced Addie’s heart, even while the black ring around his mouth tempted her to snicker. “I think I catched Paw’s sickness.”

  The culprit was more likely the black licorice he’d consumed after drinking a tall chocolate soda. Emmett had advised him to save some of the candy for later, but he’d cheerfully chomped through all five strings. Her stomach felt a little queasy thinking about digesting so much sugar. “Maybe you could chew one of the seltzer tablets you bought at the drugstore.”

  “Nuh-uh. Them are Paw’s. He’ll have my hide if I eat any of ’em.” He rested his forehead against her rib cage and moaned.

  Emmett trotted from behind the depot building, trailed by the skinny youth who’d worried about her the day she arrived from Georgetown and a portly man with a sour expression. Perhaps the gentleman would benefit from a seltzer tablet, too. She helped Dusty off the crate and led him to the shade under the depot’s eaves. After a lot of grunting and maybe a few muffled oaths, the men slid all three crates into the wagon’s bed. Emmett shook their hands and thanked them, and they returned to the depot, both holding their lower backs and walking stiff legged.

  Addie offered them sympathetic smiles as they passed her, then hurried to Emmett. “I’m sorry the crates are so heavy.”

  He laughed. “I think it’s great. That weight tells me there are lots of books in these things.” He helped her up onto the wagon seat and then waved his hand at Dusty. “C’mon, buddy, let’s go.”

  Dusty clutched his stomach and stayed put.

  Addie leaned down slightly. “His stomach is hurting pretty badly.”

  Emmett rolled his eyes. “I told him not to eat that whole bag of candy at once.” He strode to the depot, arms swinging, and scooped his brother up the way a groom carried his bride over a threshold. At the wagon, he laid Dusty in the bed. Then he shrugged out of his jacket. “Here, bud, roll this up and use it for a pillow. But if you think you’re going to throw up, hang your head over the edge of the wagon. Don’t get vomit on my jacket or the boxes.”

  Addie gasped at his nonchalant tone and uncaring directions.

  “Okay, Emmett.” Dusty wadded the jacket and shoved it under his head. He closed his eyes.

  Addie couldn’t stop gazing at the child, battling a wave of pity. Even if he had foolishly caused his discomfort, he looked so small and helpless lying beside the oversized crates.

  Emmett pulled himself up onto the seat and released the brake. He glanced at her and grinned. “He’ll be all right. He’s a tough guy. Right, Dusty?”

  Dusty’s eyelids twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Right, Emmett.”

  Emmett whispered, “He’ll be asleep before we’re out of Lynch. Don’t worry.” He slapped the reins down on the horse’s rump, and the wagon groaned forward.

  As he’d predicted, by the time they reached the road leading up the mountain to Boone’s Hollow, Dusty’s mouth hung open and he snored softly. Convinced he was fine, Addie faced forward. One of the wheels hit a rut, and the wagon rocked sideways. Addie’s shoulder connected with Emmett’s. She scooted over a few inches, then kept her hands curled around the rough front edge of the seat. It wouldn’t do for them to roll into Boone’s Hollow and have people see her sitting so close to Bettina’s beau.

  Whether it was the privacy of the quiet road or the aftermath of spending such a pleasant afternoon with the Tharp brothers, Addie found herself asking a personal question. “Emmett, Dusty said your father called Bettina ‘loony as a rabid coon.’ Was he joking, or he is not particularly fond of her?”

  Emmett snorted under his breath. “He wasn’t joking. Paw doesn’t think much of Burke Webber, Bettina’s pap. He isn’t fond of Jasper Barr—you met his wife, Jennie, and gave her a magazine, remember?—for the same reason. He thinks they’re lazy and don’t take good care of their families. In Paw’s eyes, that makes them useless as men.”

  Addie cringed. She didn’t know Burke Webber or Jasper Barr, but for some men, the country’s economic depression got in the way of their seeing to their families’ needs. Would Emmett’s father think Daddy was lazy because he worked only a few hours every day at a menial job? “Is that why he doesn’t like Bettina, too? If you don’t like one person in the family, you dislike them all?”

 
Mouth set in a rueful grimace, Emmett glanced at her. “Sad to say, that’s the code of the hills. You’re caught up in the middle of it, with people not liking you because you like Nanny Fay. They don’t like Nanny Fay because they didn’t like her husband, and they didn’t like him because he was a Tuckett. It probably seems petty and childish to you, but to these people, it’s an honor to hold on to generations-long grudges. And it’s pretty hard to change a mindset that’s been handed down from a beloved great-grandpappy.”

  She shifted a bit so she could talk to his profile. “Your mother doesn’t honor the code, though. She’s been kind to me, and I know she likes Bettina.”

  A half smile pulled up the corners of his lips. “Maw’s got a good heart. A tender heart, kind of like you.”

  Addie’s pulse skittered at the compliment.

  “Maw and Bettina’s mother were good friends from childhood. She refuses to get caught up in Paw’s scorn toward Burke and Bettina, even though she wishes Burke was a better husband and father. I think when Maw looks at Bettina, she sees Rosie, and that makes her more accepting and patient.”

  Rosie…Could Bettina’s mother be the same woman who went berry picking with Nanny Fay? But that Rosie was dead, and Emmett said his mother wanted Burke Webber to be a better husband, so it was probably a different woman. “I’m glad your maw accepts Bettina. That should help. But won’t it be hard to be married to her if your father thinks so poorly of her and her pap?”

  “Married to whom?”

  “To Bettina.”

  Emmett’s frame jerked. “To Bettina?” His tone rose a full octave. Dusty mumbled in his sleep, and the horse’s ears twitched. He gaped at her, his spectacles reflecting the sunlight. “Why do you think I want to marry Bettina?”

  Addie drew back and gawked at him. How ridiculous they must look, sitting on opposite sides of the bench, staring at each other with astounded expressions. “Because…She…I thought…”

  Emmett shook his head so hard his spectacles bounced on the bridge of his nose. “I’m not marrying Bettina, Addie. She’s like a pesky little sister. It’d be downright awkward. And it has nothing to do with how my paw feels about her or Burke. I just…couldn’t.”

  “Then why does she think you are?”

  “How should I know?” His voice rose again, and he swung one arm. “I haven’t done anything to encourage her, I can tell you that. Especially not since Maw told me she’s unhappy at home and looking for an escape. That’s a pretty poor reason to marry somebody, don’t you think?”

  Addie didn’t know what to say. How could two people hold such different views of the same relationship? Sympathy for Bettina rolled through her. Even if her motivation was selfish, she seemed to love Emmett. Embarrassment at having opened such an uncomfortable conversation and uncertainty of what to talk about next kept Addie silent the remainder of the drive to Boone’s Hollow.

  Emmett drew the wagon to a stop outside the library and set the brake. He cleared his throat, his gaze aimed ahead. “Listen, Addie, I’m sorry I got so upset. I’m not sure why it bothered me so much that you thought I was…er…betrothed to Bettina. But I shouldn’t have hollered like I did. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Addie toyed with a fresh snag on her skirt, probably from brushing against the crate when she helped Dusty down. “There’s nothing to forgive, Emmett, truly. It was a misunderstanding, and I shouldn’t have been so nosy. I’m sorry, too.”

  She braved a sideways glance and found him smiling at her. She returned it with one of her own.

  Dusty stirred and sat up. He rubbed his eyes. “Emmett?”

  Eyes locked with Addie’s, Emmett said, “Whatcha need, Dusty?”

  “The outhouse.”

  Emmett and Addie exchanged a grin. Addie pointed. “There’s one behind the library. You could use it.”

  “No. I wanna use my outhouse.”

  Emmett reached into the back and tousled Dusty’s dark hair. “All right, buddy, I’ll walk you home.” He looked at Addie and shrugged. “I should get the seltzer tablets to Paw anyway, then find some men to help me unload these crates. It might be fifteen or twenty minutes before I get back, so I’ll say goodbye now.”

  Addie swallowed a knot of unexpected sadness. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “That’s fine. I hope Dusty’s tummy will be okay.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine after he, er, visits the outhouse.”

  Addie’s face heated. She looked aside.

  Emmett hopped down and, being the perfect gentleman she’d told Mother he was, helped her out. He lifted his brother from the back and draped his hand over Dusty’s narrow shoulder. “See you tomorrow at church, Addie.”

  Thank goodness it didn’t seem to bother him for her to come to service with Nanny Fay. After being glared at each Sunday by so many pairs of distrustful eyes, his simple comment was as sweet as a wisteria-laden breeze. She offered him a smile. “Yes, tomorrow. Bye, Emmett. Bye, Dusty.”

  Dusty flapped a weak wave, and the pair ambled off together.

  She started for Nanny Fay’s and then turned back. Dusty wasn’t the only one who needed the outhouse. She visited the one behind the library. As she headed for the road, she glanced through the library window at the dark space. Emmett planned to unload the crates this evening. If the lamps were lit, it would simplify things for him. She hadn’t been able to help lift those crates into the back, but she could certainly help by lighting the lamps.

  The library door was closed, but it wouldn’t be locked. When Emmett had moved in, he’d removed the string-and-crossbar system and added a doorknob, but the latch kit lacked a locking mechanism. A little hook and latch on the inside secured the door when he closed himself in for the night, but otherwise the building remained accessible to anyone who came along.

  Addie opened the door and stepped over the threshold. She blinked rapidly, willing her eyes to adjust so she could find her way to the table, where a lamp and box of matches always waited on the corner. She took a hesitant step in the direction of the table, and her foot connected with something. She stopped and squinted at the floor. A book lay open and facedown in front of her. She blew out a little huff of aggravation. Such a careless thing to do. Addie bent over to pick it up and drew in a horrified gasp. The entire floor was littered with books.

  She abruptly straightened and stared at the mess. A groan grew in her chest and emerged as a whimper. “Oh, Bettina…Why would you do such a thing?” But she already knew why. Retaliation. Addie shouldn’t have gone to Lynch with Emmett.

  Boone’s Hollow

  Emmett

  LAMPLIGHT GLOWED BEHIND THE LIBRARY windows. He hadn’t lit those lamps, but he could reason who had. A feeling he couldn’t define swooped through him, and his feet sped up without conscious thought. Kermit Gilliam, Ned Belcher, and Preacher Darnell double-stepped to keep up, Gilliam grunting under his breath.

  Emmett gave the wagon’s side a light slap on his way to the library’s stoop. “Gimme a minute, fellows, to decide where to stack these crates in here, and then I’ll—”

  Addie blocked the doorway. She wrung her hands, and her eyes were sheeny with unshed tears. Another feeling captured him, but this one he recognized. Concern. For her.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She glanced beyond him to the men, then settled her watery gaze on him. “I came in to light the lamps for you, and I…I found…” Her lower lip sucked in, and she took a slight step to the side.

  Emmett peered in, and his heart seemed to fire into his throat. He crossed the threshold, placing his feet in the patches of floor between scattered books and magazines. Whoever’d been in earlier hadn’t been so careful. Boot prints marred the covers of several books. Some had lost their covers altogether, and magazine pages littered the floor like the leftovers from a ticker tape parade. A stone seemed to drop into his belly. Dozens of questions c
luttered his mind, and he didn’t know which to ask first.

  “I’m so sorry, Emmett. It’s all my fault. If I’d stayed at Nanny Fay’s today and helped her make blueberry jam, none of this would have happened.”

  He paused and looked over his shoulder at Addie, who remained near the doorway, hugging herself. “What are you talking about?”

  She blinked several times, and one tear let loose and rolled down her pale cheek. “Bettina. She thought I was trying to steal her beau, so—”

  “I already told you I’m not her beau.” The harshness in his tone startled him.

  Her eyebrows dipped together. “I know, and you know. But I don’t think she knows.”

  The preacher stuck his head in. “Hey, Emmett, I’d like to—” His eyes widened, and he came all the way in. “What happened in here?”

  Addie scurried out. Emmett wanted to go after her, to assure her she wasn’t to blame. But he couldn’t. His legs had turned to concrete and refused to move. Some director he’d turned out to be. Sending out a rider who didn’t deliver a single book in ten days of trying. Failing at maintaining peace among the employees. Now allowing the destruction of government-owned materials. He had no business being in charge of anything.

  Emmett bent over and picked up a book. The rumpled pages hung by threads. He tucked them back into the binding. “Reckon a storm blew through.” He turned his gaze to the preacher. “It’ll take me a little while to get this cleaned up, and I can’t bring the crates in until it’s done. Would you ask Kermit if they can stay on the wagon until tomorrow afternoon?”

  Preacher Darnell crossed on tiptoe through the maze of books and put his hand on Emmett’s shoulder. “I’m sure sorry about all this, Emmett. You reckon somebody’s upset about the new book gal?”

  Somebody was upset, all right. He nodded.

  The preacher hung his head. “These feuds an’ fear gotta end. Nanny Fay’s a fine Christian woman. But the people in town have blinders on when it comes to her. I—”