The Librarian of Boone's Hollow Page 30

Bettina screamed.

  Boone’s Hollow

  Nanny Fay

  NANNY FAY KNELT by her bed. Her knees ached. Her back throbbed. Tiredness weighed on her like a load of stove wood. But she wouldn’t sleep until she’d found peace. With her elbows braced on the edge of the mattress and her chin on her knuckles, she held herself upright.

  “Dear Lord, keep her safe wherever she is.” She’d asked at least a dozen times already, but the widow in the Bible asked the judge again and again for justice until he gave it. The judge didn’t care one little bit about God, and still he gave in to the widow’s request. God, who was very good, wouldn’t ignore one of His own. “Please, Father, keep her safe even though she was foolhardy to run off that way. She run away ’cause nobody cares about her now that Rosie’s gone. Except You.”

  And you.

  Nanny Fay shook her head and scowled. She was so sleepy her brain was talking to her.

  “But I don’t know for sure she knows You.”

  She knows you.

  “She goes to church every Sunday, same as Rosie did. But there’s a heap o’ people sittin’ in church pews week after week who don’t know You like they oughta. ’Cause they ain’t took the time to know Your Son.” Her throat went tight, and her nose stung. She pushed the words out even though they warbled. “Oh, dear Lord, she needs to know You. She needs to understand how much You love her. Somehow she’s gotta figure out she don’t need to go chasin’ after Emmett or any other fella to find love. All she’s gotta do is turn to Jesus, an’ then she’ll be Yours an’ she’ll have all the love she needs.”

  So tell her.

  Nanny Fay’s eyes popped open. Why was something inside her head interrupting her prayers? “Tell her? She ain’t gonna listen to me.”

  Then show her.

  Nanny Fay’s chin slipped off her knuckles and nearly hit the mattress. Her body sagged, but not all from tiredness. The peace she’d been waiting for surged from her middle outward like water seeping through a crack and filled every part of her being. She struggled to her feet. Her stiff muscles groaned, but a smile pulled at her lips. “Yes. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll show her.”

  Emmett

  “AIN’T THEM CRICKETS ever gonna shut up?”

  Emmett jolted. Had he drifted off? He must have. He inwardly berated himself. How would he know when Bettina returned if he couldn’t stay awake and listen for her?

  He shifted, sitting a little straighter, then leaned against the rough tree trunk again. The clouds that had been shrouding the moon earlier must have moved on, because a slight amount of light touched Paw’s aggravated face. “I dunno. They’re noisy, all right.”

  Paw grunted. “Never have liked crickets. Just chirp, chirp, chirp…Good for nothin’. Except fish bait. Catfish’ll snatch ’em right up.” He nudged Emmett with his elbow. “You remember goin’ after catfish one summer when you was a littler feller? Before Dusty was born. You might’ve been about how old Dusty is now. We went with your Grandpappy McCallister.”

  Emmett vaguely recalled a fishing trip with Paw and his maw’s father before the old man died. “I think so.” He forced his tired mind to think back. “Yeah. Yeah, I recall you and Grandpaw gave me a tin can and told me to hunt up crickets. But I don’t remember catching any.”

  “You didn’t. ’Cause you didn’t look for ’em.” Paw laughed, but the sound held a hard edge. “Him an’ me found a good spot to drop our lines, got our poles ready, an’ waited. Waited some more. Finally he says, ‘Best go find him. Prob’ly gonna be like Little Boy Blue sleepin’ somewheres.’ I went lookin’ for you. An’ I found you, but you weren’t sleepin’.”

  Suddenly Emmett remembered. Mr. Halcomb had given him a copy of The Story of Doctor Dolittle as a prize for winning the end-of-the-year spelling bee. He’d found a comfortable spot on the creek bank to read, and then Paw had come along. Paw hadn’t said a word. But he hadn’t needed to. The disappointment on his face said it all.

  “That’s when I knew for sure, you an’ me, we was differ’nt.” The dry, sad laugh rumbled again. “Ain’t no way I’da been caught readin’ a book when I could be fishin’ or huntin’ or doin’ anything else outdoors when I was a youngster.”

  His father’s disappointment—his disapproval—stung as much now as it had then. Emmett stared across the deep shadows and forced his tight vocal cords to speak. “I’m sorry, Paw.”

  The sliver of moonlight disappeared behind another cloud passing over.

  “Ain’t your fault, I reckon.” Paw’s voice sounded raspy, too, like maybe he was having a hard time making his words come out. “Your maw’s always held a fondness for books an’ readin’. She read stories to you before you were out o’ the cradle. Reckon them stories reached inside you someplace an’ took hold.”

  He smacked his palms together several times, and the crickets fell silent. For a few seconds. Then one started chirping, another joined in, and pretty soon the chorus filled the night again.

  Paw sighed. “Fool crickets. Guess we had them few days, though, didn’t we?”

  Emmett didn’t follow. “Few days?”

  “Workin’ the mine…”

  Ah. Yes. Emmett hung his head. “Those were good days, Paw. I don’t regret them.”

  “They was awful short.”

  Emmett swallowed. There was something he’d pondered. Something he needed to know but was afraid to know. He didn’t want to see his father’s expression when he asked. If hurt showed in Paw’s eyes, he’d never forgive himself. But the cover of darkness gave him a chance to ask. “Is that why you tore up the books in the library?”

  Paw’s rump scooting on the dried leaves sounded loud. Loud enough to still the crickets for a few seconds. “How’d you know?” Paw’s warm breath, scented with the corned beef hash they’d eaten for supper, hit Emmett’s cheek.

  Misery twined through his gut. “I didn’t. Not for sure. But I got to thinking. About how much it pleased you to have me working at the mine with you. About how much it upset you when I took the library job. And then Maw said you’d gone traipsing the day it happened, and I wondered if…” He swallowed again. “Well, I wondered.”

  Paw scooted some more, and his shoulder bumped Emmett. “I didn’t go there to tear things up. Went to talk to you. To ask if you might change your mind. ’Cause you’re right, I liked havin’ you at the mine with me. Seemed like there wasn’t nothin’ else we had in common, but at least we had that, an’ then it was gone. But you wasn’t there, an’ I got to lookin’ at those books, an’ all o’ sudden it felt like they was what had kept us apart all these years. I reckon I took out my mad on them.” The cloud uncovered the moon, and Emmett got a peek at his father’s remorseful expression. “I’m sorry. It was a fool thing to do. Afterward, I wished I could take it back. But there wasn’t no fixin’ it.”

  Emmett put his hand over Paw’s. “You fixed it right now, Paw, by telling me.” It would ease Addie’s mind to know she wasn’t the target. “I like books and book learning. I always have, and I likely always will. It’s a part of who God made me to be. I like books…but I love you. You’re my father. Just because we aren’t alike in every way doesn’t mean we can’t do things together. Like fishing.”

  He lifted Paw’s hand and squeezed it. “In fact, since the crickets are bothering us so much, maybe I can catch about half that choir and early some morning you, Dusty, and me can go to Boone’s Creek and catch us a catfish breakfast.”

  Paw chuckled. “That sounds good, Emmett. I’d—”

  The crickets hushed.

  Paw yanked his hand free and sat up. “There’s a horse comin’.”

  Emmett heard it, too. But it sounded like more than one. He pushed himself to his feet, and Paw stood beside him. He made out three riders, Bettina on her white mule between the other two. He waited until they were within a few feet and then ca
lled, “Bettina, are you all right?”

  All three animals stopped. Rifles hissed from scabbards, the sound threatening. Bettina’s form leaned forward, as if she was trying to find him. “Emmett? Is that you?” Her voice quavered and had a nasal tone. She’d been crying.

  “Yeah, it’s me and my paw.”

  “Whoever’s there, come out where we can see you.”

  The authoritative voice didn’t belong to anyone Emmett knew. He and Paw moved out from under the tree. Emmett went to Mule’s side. He squinted up at the other riders. Both men, both wearing Stetson-type hats. They held their rifles with the barrels pointed skyward. “My name’s Emmett Tharp. Over there’s my father, Emil. Who’re you?”

  “They’re revenuers.” Bettina spat the title.

  “We found this girl up on the mountain.” The man who’d ordered Emmett and Paw to make themselves seen spoke. “You know her?”

  “Her name’s Bettina Webber,” Paw answered. “Her an’ her pap live in the cabin on the other side o’ the creek behind me.”

  Bettina clamped her hand on Emmett’s shoulder. “They found me sleepin’, an’ they wouldn’t lemme be. Said I must be a bootlegger hidin’ out up there.”

  “Bootlegger?” Paw snorted and came up close. “I’ve known Bettina her whole life. She ain’t no bootlegger. She’s a gal who knows the mountain, that’s all. Ain’t no crime in spendin’ a summer night out under the moon, is there?”

  The second fellow braced his elbow on his knee and scowled at Paw. “What’re you two fellers doin’ out here in the middle o’ the night? You sure you ain’t runnin’ moonshine?”

  Paw laughed as if someone had told a joke. “Pffft. We’re huntin’ crickets.” He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked on his boot heels. “Me an’ my son plan to do some fishin’. Mighty fine catfish in this creek, an’ they like crickets more’n any other bait. Before you come along, we had a good bead on ’em, but now they’ve quit singin’.” He shrugged. “Reckon we’ll head home.”

  Emmett took hold of Mule’s reins. “I’ll escort Bettina to her cabin. Since she hasn’t done anything worth being taken in for.”

  The pair looked at each other for several seconds. Then the one who’d done most of the talking slid his rifle into its scabbard. “All right. She can go. But we’ll be askin’ about you when we get to the sheriff’s office in Lynch. An’ we’ll be back if your names show up on any lists.”

  Paw grinned. “Only place you’ll find both o’ us listed is on the membership roster for the low Baptist church.”

  The two lawmen turned their horses, and the animals carried them into the trees. As soon as they’d disappeared from sight, Bettina slid off Mule’s back and fell against Emmett. She gripped handfuls of his shirt and buried her face against his front.

  He gave her shoulders a few awkward pats. “Reckon you’ve had quite a scare.”

  She nodded without pulling loose. “I’m still scared. Scared to go home. Pap…he’s gonna be all-fired mad.”

  Emmett believed her. “Don’t worry. You’re going to my folks’ place. My paw’ll take you to my maw, and she’ll see to you tonight.”

  Bettina lifted her face and gazed at him. “She will?”

  Emmett transferred her to Paw. “We’ll decide tomorrow where you’ll go from there. But you won’t be going back to your pap. We won’t let him hurt you again, Bettina. I promise you that.”

  Paw helped Bettina onto Mule’s back and led the animal to the road. Bettina clung to the mule’s neck and sent Emmett a wobbly smile of appreciation over her shoulder.

  He waited until Paw and Bettina disappeared around the bend, and then he hurried in the direction the revenuers had taken. Bettina hadn’t done anything that warranted being arrested, but her pap sure had. The lawmen probably wouldn’t care about Burke Webber using his fists on his wife and daughter, but they’d be interested in the still up the mountain. He’d break the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell code of the hills’ folk by telling, but keeping Bettina safe was more important than keeping the code.

  Addie

  ADDIE BIT THE INSIDE OF her lip and tried to rein in her active imagination as she walked to the library Tuesday morning. Nanny Fay walked alongside her, countenance serene, as if she didn’t have a worry in the world. Addie wished she could set aside her worries, but after yesterday afternoon’s dramatic end—wouldn’t Felicity enjoy hearing about it?—she wasn’t sure what to expect once she got to the library.

  She couldn’t forget Bettina’s stricken expression as she raced out the door. And she couldn’t fathom a father beating his child. But she couldn’t fathom parents trading their child to a strange man for gunpowder, either. Why did some children suffer so? She didn’t know, but these revelations increased her admiration for Penrose and Fern Cowherd, and she would do her best to convey her feelings when she spoke to her parents next.

  They reached the little slope leading to the road, and Addie gestured for Nanny Fay to precede her. Nanny Fay moved sideways, using the tree roots extending from the eroded dirt as steps, then stopped at the edge of the street. She pointed. “Lib’ary door’s propped open. Emmett must be up an’ ready for the day.” She took off as if fired from a cannon.

  Addie trotted to catch up, then offered her hand and helped Nanny Fay onto the stoop. Nanny Fay called “Yoo-hoo” as she crossed the threshold, and Addie followed her in.

  Emmett rose from the table and met them near the door. He took Nanny Fay’s hands. “This is a surprise. Are you going to help Addie with the scrapbooks today?”

  Nanny Fay laughed softly. “I’m here to check on Bettina. Seein’ her mama’s dress gave her such a shock. I owe her an apology, an’ I aim to give it.”

  Addie had worn her overalls in case Emmett needed her to take Bettina’s route. His mention of scrapbooks answered that question. Another question begged an answer, though. “So she’s back?”

  He nodded. “Showed up somewhere around two this morning.”

  Nanny Fay’s frame gave a little shudder. “Is she with Burke?”

  “No.” Emmett glanced at Addie over the old woman’s snow-white head. “She’s at my folks’ place. And as for Burke…he’s gone.”

  Addie drew back. Emmett had been so angry when he left the library. Her imagination conjured possibilities again. “Gone…for good?”

  “I don’t know.” Emmett released Nanny Fay’s hands and crossed to the table. “Some revenuers brought Bettina down from the mountain, and then they went to Burke’s cabin. But he wasn’t there. Maw and I saw him at suppertime, and Paw and I weren’t twenty yards from his cabin door for hours afterward, and we never saw him leave. He must have sneaked out and gone up the mountain. I was at the wagon this morning with Paw when the miners left, and Burke wasn’t on it. I don’t know where he is.”

  Emmett had met the miners’ wagon? Concern smote her. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  A soft smile graced his face. “I’ll be fine. We Tharps are tough. Just ask my paw. And I reckon you’ll sleep a little easier when I tell you I know who vandalized the library. It had nothing to do with you, Addie. Or you, Nanny Fay. It was directed at me, but we’ve got it all worked out and it won’t happen again.” He turned his back to them and sorted through a stack of papers on the table.

  Addie wanted to ask more, but something in his expression as he’d talked—a blend of pain and relief—held her tongue. Maybe later, if they had a moment alone, she’d dig for more information.

  “And there’s this.” He turned and held up several pages the way a warrior held a shield.

  She gasped and lunged for them. “My story! Oh, Emmett, you got it back!”

  He grinned. “Maw found it.”

  Addie scanned the lines of penciled words, her heart dancing in her chest. “Oh, it’s like being reunited with a friend. Please thank her for me.”


  “I will.” Emmett sat on the edge of the table and folded his arms. “She also found what she thought was a letter you’d been writing, but she didn’t read it. It’s tucked at the back of the story.”

  Addie peeked. Sure enough, her letter to Felicity was there, too. How odd. The story and her letter had been misplaced in different locations, yet apparently, Damaris had found them in the same place. Curiosity built in her chest, and she turned to Emmett. “Where—” The query got lost beneath the tender gaze she found aimed at her. Another question formed. Why are you looking at me the way I imagine Eagle looked at Nanny Fay on their wedding day? But female chatter intruded, and the question remained unasked.

  Glory and Alba burst in. Community gossip must not have traveled far yet, because neither said a word about Bettina. They said hello to Addie, skirted around Nanny Fay, grabbed their packs, and headed out the door. The third pack remained on the shelf. Addie stared at it, a fuzzy idea taking shape in the back of her mind.

  She edged up to it and placed her hand on it. “Emmett, would you let me take Bettina’s route today? I think I can find all the houses.”

  His brows dipped. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know how…well…”

  “I know. But I might have found a way to endear myself to the people of Boone’s Hollow, and I’d like to at least give it a try.” She lifted the pack and cradled it against her stomach. “Bettina likely needs a day to recover from her difficult night, so I want to go, if you’ll let me.”

  He stood unmoving for several seconds, indecision flashing in his blue eyes, but then the sweet tenderness returned, and he nodded. “All right. Go ahead. Bettina’s mule is tethered behind our cabin. If you take him, he’ll help guide you. He could probably deliver the books on his own.”

  Both she and Nanny Fay laughed. Addie entrusted her story to Emmett’s keeping, kissed Nanny Fay on the cheek, and scurried out the door.

  Bettina

  BETTINA TRUDGED DOWN the hill toward town. When she’d seen Emmett last night, she’d been so relieved to be free of them two lawmen she hadn’t thought about anything else. But now, knowing she’d have to face him in the light of day, her insides quivered. Miz Tharp had told her she didn’t need to worry. Still, Bettina wasn’t so sure. Miz Tharp was real nice, but she was a woman. Emmett was a man. He’d never acted anything like Pap, but she’d never acted so all-fired dumb with him before. She might’ve poked his angry spot. Would he holler?