Guide Me Home (11 page)

Cissy shrugged and stepped away. She hung the basket over her wrist and blew out a breath. “Guess now that I've seen you I'll head on back. There's always chores waitin'. Mama said to ask if you was comin' for Sunday dinner.”

“Yes. I'm coming for service, too, so save me a seat, all right?”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Like the chapel's so full you hafta worry about not gettin' a seat.”

Rebekah forced a smile. “I meant by you, Cissy.” Loneliness spiraled through her, and she dared to open a bit of herself to her sister, hoping she might soften. “I miss seeing you every day, even miss your cold feet on the other side of my bed at night. I'm grateful for the job and for my own little place to live, but it sure is quiet here. I'll be glad when the tourist time is over and I can come home again.”

Cissy stared at Rebekah as if she'd sprouted chin whiskers. “You're plumb crazy. You got your own cabin, no pesky little sisters yankin' at you, no daddy barkin' orders or mama tellin' you to hurry up an' get to your chores. You're makin' all this money. Why would you wanna come back?”

Now Rebekah gawked at Cissy. She'd long sensed a restiveness in her sister, but the cynicism and resentment stole her ability to speak.

Cissy released a huff and tossed her head, making her thick, straight reddish-brown braids bounce against her bodice. “I gotta get home. Bye, Bek. I'll tell Mama to set a plate for you at the table Sunday.”

Rebekah sank down on the stoop and watched until Cissy disappeared into the trees.
“Why would you wanna come back?”
The question taunted her. She'd sent Andy away and lost him forever. Now she'd gone away and it seemed Cissy was trying to lose herself. Rebekah's chin quivered and a half prayer, half accusation slipped from her lips.

“God, I'm supposed to be helping my family. Why does it seem like I'm hurting them instead?”

Cissy

S
he carried a whole dollar and fifty-five cents in her pocket. The wonder of it made her giddy. Each time she took a step, the weight of the coins pressed her thigh and sent a thrill clear up to her scalp. If only that money was all hers. Why, there was likely enough to buy a ticket that would take her from Cave City all the way to Louisville.

She'd never been to Louisville, but the teacher said it was a big city—big enough for factories and dress shops and all the other things Cissy wanted to explore. If she could get to Louisville, she'd find herself a job. Maybe in a sweets shop. She'd like sampling all the candies and other goodies. If itty-bitty Good Spring had a sweets shop, she'd be tempted to visit it right then and there and buy something really special just to find out how it felt.

She had to see the money again before Daddy took it away from her. Just off the trail, a little stream with several large rocks at its edge beckoned her to have a seat. She perched on the largest, flattest rock and withdrew the coins one by one. She laid them on the rock's smooth surface. Fingers of sunlight sneaked through the trees and danced on the glittering coins. A laugh built in her throat, and she let it out. She felt as rich as a queen sitting there with the coins spread out beside her.

“Maybe I should leave right now.” She touched each quarter, dime, and nickel by turn, her thoughts rolling. “Betcha I could hitch a ride to a train station and ride the Cumberland all the way to Louisville. Or even Nashville, Tennessee.” Pansy'd ridden the Cumberland to Nashville once to visit her mama's aunt, and she bragged about it for months. Cissy'd like the chance to brag about riding the Cumberland.

Her body twitched with eagerness to catch that train, and she started to jump up and go. But as she opened her apron pocket, she realized what she was wearing. She couldn't board a train in this faded dress and patched apron. People would turn up their noses. Besides, she and Pansy hadn't exchanged their keepsakes yet. Did she want Pansy, the only person who really cared about her, to forget her? No, she couldn't go yet. She settled back on the rock with a sigh.

While a breeze brushed her cheeks and the creek sang its merry song, Cissy closed her eyes and drifted away in a daydream. When she took the train to Louisville, she'd hire on to work in a sweets shop where the air smelled like taffy and fudge and gingerbread. She'd use her first wages to buy herself the prettiest dress in town. Then she'd wear it to work. When handsome boys brought in their girls, and when the girls weren't looking, she would flutter her eyelashes at the boys and tantalize them away from their girls. She'd flirt only with the ones who had lots of coins to spend. Before long one of them would fall in love with her, and he'd take her to his fine house, and she'd live there forever just as happy as a lark.

“Hello, miss.”

She jerked. Two coins slid off into the thick moss and feather-like ferns growing along the base of the rocks. With a gasp of alarm she knelt and began pushing aside the ferns. A shadow fell over the spot where she was searching, and she looked up with a scowl. “Hey! Why don'tcha—”

The most handsome, best-dressed fellow she'd ever seen stopped next to the rock and gazed down at her. Cissy gulped and forgot what she planned to say.

He bent down on one knee beside her. The same way heroes in the magazine serials did when they offered their intended a ring. She sucked in a breath and held it, not sure if he was real or she was still caught up in dreaming.

“I'm sorry I frightened you.”

His voice was real. She liked the sound of it, and even more the way he looked at her—really looked at her, with eyes so deep blue she never wanted to turn away. “I-it's all right. No harm done.” The lost coins didn't even matter anymore.

He slipped off his hat and placed it on his knee, still looking her straight in the eyes. “Were you asleep?”

She might never sleep again. How could any dream, no matter how wonderful, compare to having a handsome stranger in a three-piece suit, a little dimple winking in his cheek and hair the color of sand curling up over his ears, fix his blue-blue eyes on her?

“How much did you lose?”

She blinked twice. “Huh?”

He finally shifted his gaze from her, tipping his head toward the coins. “Your money. You had it all counted, didn't you?”

Fire attacked her cheeks. The money! She hunched over the rock and began plucking up the coins. Her fingers shook, and a ten-cent piece slid into the ferns. “Oh!”

“Here now.” The gentleman took hold of her elbow and gave a little tug.

She jerked free and tried to wriggle between him and the rock. “Leave that be.”

He stopped with his hand halfway to the rock. “Let me help you.”

“You sure you ain't gonna help yourself to my money?” It wasn't really her money, but he didn't have to know that.

His forehead pinched like she'd hauled off and kicked him in the shin. “Of course not. But the way you're trembling, you could lose even more. See what's left, and let's determine how much has been lost.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, uncertainty holding her captive. But those blue eyes of his won her over. No man with such pretty eyes could be dishonest. “All right.” Aware of him watching, she lifted the coins one at a time and kept a careful count, determined not to make a mistake. “Twenty-five, fifty, sixty, seventy, seventy-five, eighty-five, ninety-five, a dollar, dollar twenty-five, dollar thirty-five.”

“You're very good at ciphering.”

Warmth flowed through her. She ducked her head and giggled. “Thank you.”

“How much did you have to start with?”

Cissy chewed her lip. “A dollar fifty-five.” That meant she'd dropped a dime and two nickels. Daddy'd likely take that amount out of her hide when she admitted what she'd done. And she'd have to admit it because Bek would be there on Sunday, and sure as Mama made jelly out of crab apples every fall, Bek would brag about her tip money. Cissy blinked back tears.

“Well, here.” The man stood and pushed his suit coat aside to reach into his trouser pocket. He offered her a silver quarter.

She gaped up at him. “Y-you're just gonna gimme that?”

“If I hadn't startled you, those coins would still be on the rock.”

“But…but…” She couldn't imagine having so much money a person could just give it away without a thought. He must be rich.

“Since the loss of the coins is my fault, allow me to replace them.” He cupped her hand and slid the coin, warm from being in his pocket, onto her palm. “There. Now all is well.”

Cissy stared at her fist, her mind racing. She'd lost only twenty cents, but he'd given her twenty-five. That meant she could keep five cents of the mushroom money, and nobody would ever know. Maybe she could come back here tomorrow and find the dime and nickels, and then she'd have a whole twenty-five cents that was all her own.

Warm fingers caught the underside of her chin and lifted her face. She looked up at his smile, and her heart started such a
thump-thump
she feared she would faint dead away.

“Have I restored your happiness, little one?”

Could a person melt from a tender gaze? Slowly Cissy nodded, her breath caught in her throat.

“Good.” His fingers slipped away and he moved toward the path. “I'll leave you to your musings. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Her breath whooshed out. She dug in her pocket for a nickel and slipped it into her shoe. Then she grabbed up the basket, and with her apron pinched tightly in her fist so no coins would bounce out, she raced for home.

Devlin

Pattering footsteps enticed Devlin to peek over his shoulder. The girl who'd been absorbed in dreamland beside the creek raced up the pathway as fleet as a deer. He smiled. Wasn't she a cute little thing? He recalled her big searching eyes and winsome expression. Never having had younger siblings, he enjoyed playing big brother now and then. His brief encounter with the hills girl refreshed him more than a drink from a cold mountain stream.

He made his way toward the hotel, comparing the two encounters he'd had with young ladies that day. Rebekah Hardin had demanded his help when she'd fallen, and the little hills girl had demanded him to leave her alone. When offered money Miss Hardin refused, but the girl beside the stream, once she recovered from her shock, eagerly pocketed his coin. He believed if he'd held out a dollar coin, she would have taken it. An interesting contrast.

Not that it mattered. Girls, to his way of thinking, were confusing creatures, innately tuned to wreak havoc on the hearts of men. Mother continually tried to push the daughters of associates and friends at him, but he hadn't succumbed to a female's charm yet. And he wondered if he ever would.

He snagged an unfurling leaf from a sumac and twirled it between his fingers as he continued along the winding pathway. If he pursued cartography as he intended, he would spend a great deal of time traveling. A wife might enjoy accompanying him for a while. Until children began to arrive. Then she'd want to nest. And she'd want him in the nest with her.

Father had given up his wandering ways when Mother entered her confinement with Devlin. Then, after he was born, Father began teaching at a private boys' school and eventually at the college. Sometimes, when a train whistle cut through the air, Devlin caught his father gazing out the window with a faraway look in his eyes, and he experienced a twinge of guilt for having been responsible for nailing Horatio Bale's feet to the floor.

But if Father secured the position as senator, he'd travel again. Now that Devlin was grown and capable of caring for himself, Mother could go with him. A whole new chapter in their lives waited to be written, and this massive cave and its lovely surrounding area would provide the paper and ink.

He stepped from the woods onto the grassy stretch behind the hotel. Dusk was near, the sky changing to pale yellow with smudges of pink. Devlin ambled past a pair of teenage boys who tossed a ball back and forth and a circle of little girls playing ring-around-the-rosey. On the observation deck, several couples watched the sunset or the children at play. The men curled their arms around the women's waists or the women held the men's elbows. Each pose spoke of companionship, possessiveness, and affection. Oddly, jealousy pinched.

He shifted his attention to the boardwalk and followed it to the dining room, determined to set aside the peculiar emotion. But it swept over him again when he entered the room and discovered more couples and families sitting at the linen-draped tables.

The host approached Devlin with a smile. “Are you ready for dinner, sir?”

For reasons he didn't understand, his appetite had fled, but he knew he should eat. By morning he'd be ravenous. He nodded.

“Follow me.” He led Devlin to a table in the corner and gave him a paper menu. “The waiter will be with you soon. May I bring you something to drink? A bottle of wine or a pot of tea?”

“Tea, please.”

The man scurried off. Devlin tried to read the menu—it contained some marvelous choices—but loneliness pressed on him, inviting him to examine those who sat in pairs or groups.

The waiter set a steaming pot and a cup and saucer on the table. “Have you made a selection, sir?”

Devlin laid the menu aside. “What do you recommend?”

“The pork loin with cherry sauce and steamed greens seasoned with onion, mushrooms, and slivered almonds has been very popular this evening.”

Even though he'd never been particularly fond of pork, he said, “That sounds fine.”

The waiter picked up the menu and turned to leave.

“By the way…”

The waiter turned back.

“If you need to seat someone else with me, please feel free to do so.”

The man smiled and flipped his hand. “That won't be necessary, sir. The early diners have come and gone. We're rarely crowded at this time of night.”