Guide Me Home (12 page)

The reply disappointed him. He didn't look forward to an entire summer of dining alone. “Well, just in case, I'm willing to share.”

The waiter smiled again and then hurried off.

Devlin poured tea into his cup and lifted the aromatic liquid to his mouth. He sipped, letting his gaze rove across the room. He hadn't expected to see so many children at the cave already. School was still in session. But he supposed families had come for a weekend outing, something to entertain the youngsters now that spring and pleasant weather had arrived. The weekdays would probably be less busy, which hopefully meant more time in the cave. He didn't mind taking the summer to complete his drawings, but he wouldn't complain if he finished early and ended up with a few free weeks to engage in his own activities before his final year of college began.

A family with six children, two older boys and four girls ranging in age from perhaps five or six years to eleven or twelve, entered the dining room. The host escorted them to a long table, which accommodated six diners, and began transferring chairs from another table. The husband scowled, shaking his head. He spoke to the host in hushed tones, but Devlin didn't need to hear to know the man was complaining about being forced to scrunch together.

The waiter hurried over and whispered something in the host's ear, gesturing toward Devlin. The host held his finger to the unhappy gentleman and then marched across the room to Devlin.

“Sir, Harry said you were willing to share your table. Is this correct?”

“Yes.” At that moment the youngest girl of the family began stomping her feet and pounding the air with her fists. Devlin hoped the host wouldn't ask to put her with him.

“Both of our longest tables are in use, and none of the tables available comfortably accommodate eight chairs. May I have the McGowen boys join you?”

Devlin sent a quick look at the family. The two boys stood beside the table and angled their gazes away from the little tantrum thrower. Devlin sensed their embarrassment from the distance of twenty paces. “Of course.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” The host bustled off again.

Moments later Harry escorted two dark-haired youths to Devlin's table. “Mr. Bale, please meet Thaddeus and Trevor McGowen. Thaddeus and Trevor, this is Devlin Bale, who is here as part of his senior project at the University of Kentucky.” The pair nodded politely. The waiter turned to Devlin again. “Thaddeus will be a student at the university next year, and Trevor hopes to follow in three years when he's finished his rudimentary studies.”

Devlin held out his hand, and both boys gave him a firm shake before seating themselves, Thaddeus at Devlin's left elbow and Trevor across the table. Harry promised to bring each of the boys water and then darted back to their parents' table.

Thaddeus grinned. “Do you feel like an open book?”

Devlin raised one eyebrow, uncertain.

He jabbed his thumb toward the waiter. “Harry knows everything. I think he listens at all the tables and saves the information so he can gossip with the other guests.”

Devlin laughed. Harry had been able to provide more than names as an introduction. “Maybe we should guard our conversation then, hmm?”

Both boys grinned.

Devlin took a sip of his tea. “Is this your first time at Mammoth Cave?”

Trevor snorted. “Our father has brought us here the third weekend of May since 1895. It's a family tradition.”

Devlin hid a smile. Trevor's pimply face and overgrown knuckles gave mute testimony to his age. Ah, the gawky teenage years. Devlin remembered them well. “What's wrong with traditions?”

“Nothing when they don't mean sharing a cottage with your bratty little sisters.”

Thaddeus bumped his brother on the arm. “It's not that bad. During the day we do what we want to, away from Father and Mother and the girls. And it's only one weekend a year.”

Trevor huffed. “And you're leaving home next fall, so you'll never have to do this again. Next year I'll be stuck here alone with Daisy, Penelope, Lulu, and—”

A piercing screech rent the air.

Mr. McGowen plucked the youngest girl from her chair and scurried out of the dining room with her bucking in his arms.

“Sadie,” the two chorused.

Trevor propped his chin in his cupped hands. “A fate worse than death.”

Thaddeus and Devlin both laughed.

Devlin asked, “What parts of the cave have you explored?”

The three of them spent a lively hour visiting. Despite the years separating them in age, Devlin enjoyed talking with Thaddeus and Trevor, and before they parted, he promised to meet with them Sunday afternoon and show them his waywiser and other cartography equipment. He left the dining room with a lighter step than he'd used going in, bolstered by the time of conversation. But when he rounded the corner toward the cottages and encountered a young couple sauntering along the boardwalk hand in hand, their moon-eyed gazes pinned on each other's faces, the jealousy he'd experienced earlier returned in a rush.

He sidestepped around them and closed himself in his cabin, away from any other couples, away from families, away from nosy staff members. If his attitude didn't improve tremendously in the next few days, it would be a very long, lonely summer.

Without invitation an image of Rebekah Hardin flashed in his memory. Hadn't Tolly said they'd spend hours of each day in the cave? Rebekah, as the guide's assistant, would be there, too. He smiled. Maybe not so lonely after all.

Rebekah

A
fter donning men's baggy britches and shirts for six days in a row, wearing a full-skirted, snug-bodiced dress seemed foreign. But Mama would have fallen over in a dead faint if Rebekah entered the Good Spring Chapel attired in anything but a dress, so she tugged at the rounded neckline to give her throat a little space. She'd be in her comfortable clothes again tomorrow.

“So remember, good brothers an' sisters in the Lawd,” the preacher thundered from his spot behind the tall pulpit, “we must avoid engagin' in drunkenness.”

How could they forget? He'd already told them three times before this reminder. Beside her on the oak bench, Cissy fidgeted. Rebekah battled the urge to wriggle, too. Preacher Haynes tended to repeat his points—Daddy called it “beating a dead horse”—until it took great effort not to yawn or start woolgathering.

She glanced to the far end of the bench where Daddy sat next to Mama. She caught him peeking at his old, faithful timepiece. She hid a smile. Daddy was ready for the service to end, too. He caught her looking, and he gave her a weary look that made her want to giggle. But nobody giggled in church. Except for the littlest kids, and they were promptly shushed or hauled to the outhouse for correction. She wouldn't set a bad example. She turned to the front and managed to at least give the pretense of attention until the closing hymn.

They mingled in the churchyard for a few minutes, catching up with friends and neighbors, and then Mama grabbed Daddy's arm. “Let's head for home, Festus. These children need fed.”

“Yes, Nell.” Daddy scooped up Little Nellie and settled her on his hip, then turned a smile on the other girls. “You heard your mama. Let's go.”

They moved in a swarm out of the churchyard and onto the winding road. Sunshine and shadows painted the dirt road with splashes of yellow and gray. Daddy, with Little Nellie toying with his ear and Mama at his side, walked down the middle of the road, his strides wide and sure. Trudy and Tabitha darted back and forth in front of Mama and Daddy, hopping from sunspot to sunspot. Their giggles competed with Della's and Jessie's endless chatter. The pair gently swung their hands between them as they moseyed behind their parents.

Rebekah automatically fell to the back of the group. When she realized what she was doing, she chuckled. For years she'd led her sisters, but after one month of going last, it now seemed the natural thing to do. Her dress felt unnatural. Being in the lead seemed wrong. How could such a short time make so many changes?

Cissy scuffed along just ahead of Rebekah, stirring dust with her toes as she went. With everyone else in pairs, she seemed lonely, and Rebekah's sympathy rose.

She trotted up beside her, then slung her arm across her sister's shoulders. “Would you like to pick mushrooms this afternoon? I could take them to the cook for you when I go back to the estate.”

Cissy scowled. “You think I can't do it good enough?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why're you tryin' to do it for me?”

Sharp words formed on Rebekah's tongue, but she held them back. She wouldn't engage in an argument with Cissy. Not when they would have only a short time together. And especially not on Sunday. Sunday should be a day of peace and rest.

“I thought maybe you wouldn't want to come all the way to the estate. It's a long walk.”

“Not that long. Besides, it gets me away from home an' Mama fussin' at me an' the little girls pullin' at me for a little while. It's the one chore your leavin' got pushed on me that I actually like.”

Cissy's retort pierced Rebekah, but she forced a smile and gave her sister's shoulders a little squeeze. “Then you keep doing it. And when you bring the mushrooms to Mr. Cooper, stop by my cabin and say hello. It'll help me not feel so alone.”

Cissy sighed and shrugged away Rebekah's arm. “Don't know how you can be alone with all those people stayin' at the hotel. You get to have all the fun.” She darted past the others and jogged around the bend leading to their lane.

The smell of roasted meat drifted all the way from the house to the road. Rebekah's mouth watered, and she hurried her steps to join Mama and Daddy.

“What're you cooking, Mama?”

“Your daddy bought a leg of lamb from the Ritters.”

They purchased such delicacies only for birthdays and holidays. Had she forgotten a special occasion?

While she pressed her memory, Daddy set Little Nellie on the ground. Swinging the little girl's hand, he grinned at Rebekah. “Your mama's quite the temptress. She brought the fire down to coals an' put that leg in the roastin' pan last night. I almost went out an' had me a snack at midnight, it smelled so good.”

“The last of our taters an' carrots from last year's garden are in the roaster, too.” Mama looked happier than Rebekah could remember in ages. “We'll have us a fine Sunday dinner today thanks to you.”

Rebekah touched her bodice and raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

Mama stopped at the base of the steps. “We couldn't have bought the leg o' lamb without that money you sent with Cissy.” She waved her hands at the girls, who chased each other around in the yard. “C'mon now, you gals, an' get in here. That lamb's been slow-roastin' all night. Much longer an' it'll be tough as boot leather. Cost a whole fifty cents. We don't wanna waste it.”

Laughing and jostling, the girls clambered into the house. Daddy followed them, calling directions to wash up and settle down.

Mama looped arms with Rebekah and took the steps slowly. “Probably won't be nothin' like the fine meals you've been eatin' at the estate all week, but I hope it'll please you.”

They needed to get inside and put dinner on the table, but Rebekah pulled her mother into an embrace. “Mama, no matter what you fix, it always pleases me. I'm glad the extra money pleases you. I know you weren't sure about me taking a job at the cave.”

Mama sniffed and pulled away. “Always hard for a mother to say good-bye to her children. But it's the way of things, children growin' up an' movin' on. Pretty soon it'll be Cissy.” She opened her mouth as if she planned to say something more, but then she turned away and hurried inside.

Rebekah followed. The table was already set, the girls and Daddy in their places.

Little Nellie looked up and patted the empty spot next to her on the bench. “Sit by me, Bek.”

“Lemme help Mama first.”

“No, no.” Mama shooed her to the bench. “Today you're a guest. Cissy'n Della'll help me. C'mon, gals, get up from there an' make yourselves useful.”

Even though the lamb, potatoes, and carrots were delicious, Rebekah fought tears the entire meal. She'd stayed so busy she didn't realize how much she missed her family until she was with them again. Regret also nibbled at her. She'd been stubborn about not taking those tips from Tolly, but thinking about how much money she'd turned away and the things Mama and Daddy could have bought filled her with self-recrimination. She'd do better about considering her family's needs first from now on.

When they finished eating, Trudy dragged Little Nellie to their bedroom for naps. Tabitha and Jessie cleared the table, and Della and Cissy washed the dishes. Mama settled in her rocking chair with the Bible draped across her lap and read aloud while the girls worked. Rebekah wandered around the room, guilty for not helping but grateful the younger girls were capable of handling the chores. She didn't have to worry about Mama being left short handed with her working away from home.

Daddy emerged from his and Mama's bedroom in his everyday overalls. He quirked his finger at Rebekah. “Come with me, gal. Got somethin' to show you.”

She trailed him out the back door and into the yard. “What is it, Daddy?”

“Just wait an' see.”

He led her along the path through the woods. Already the barberries were filling in along the edges of the leaf-strewn pathway. She pointed out a thick cluster of yellow trout lilies blooming beneath the pines. Since they'd eaten the last of their potatoes at noon, Daddy could dig up the roots. When boiled and mashed, they made a fine substitute for potatoes, and Mama served them up regularly while they waited for the garden to sprout. But Daddy picked only a handful of the bell-shaped flowers, gave them to Rebekah, and continued on, apparently not thinking about their stomachs.

All at once Rebekah knew where he was taking her. She added a dozen stems of larkspur to her bouquet as she and Daddy continued onward to the family burial plot.

For a moment Daddy stood at the edge of the simple fence built of sticks and string, hands in his pockets, face solemn. Then he took the flowers from her and stepped over the fence. He knelt at his mama's grave and laid a few of the flowers next to her wooden cross. “Been stoppin' for a bit every day on my way back from the field, clearin' out the dead leaves an' pullin' up the wild grasses.” He shifted and put a single larkspur stem on each of the other graves except Andy's. “Things get a mite disheveled when somebody don't come around. I wanted it all cleaned up an' pretty before I brought Andy's headstone out here.”

Rebekah lifted her skirt and joined Daddy inside the enclosure. She crouched and swept a few dead leaves away from the row of little crosses where the babies who never drew a breath lay covered with sod. “It looks fine, Daddy.”

He smiled briefly, arranging the remaining flowers in a fan at the base of Andy's cross. “When Cissy came home with that money the other day, it got me to thinkin' about something. I wanted to hear your thoughts on it, too.”

Her heart started to pound. Daddy wanted her advice? He was the one who told her what to do. Did he think her time at the estate had made her wiser? Being asked to share her thoughts made her feel both grown up and scared at the same time. “About what?”

“About doin' more than putting a headstone on Andy's grave.” Daddy's expression turned serious. He sat on his bottom, drew up his knees, and circled his legs with his arms. He looked young and uncertain, and Rebekah came close to putting her hand on his knee to assure him. “I've always wanted an iron fence around this plot. One with a gate that can latch, like a real cemetery.”

He glanced across the crosses. A sigh heaved from his chest. “Your mama wants a headstone for Andy, an' that'll be the first thing I get when the money's all saved up, but wouldn't it be nice if each o' these graves had a stone marker? Already the markers for your great-granddaddy and great-grandmama 've fallen away. Can't say for sure where they lie in this plot now. So I'm thinkin' I'd like to put somethin' that'll still be here a hundred years from now so your grandchildren an' great-grandchildren can come an' see the names of their ancestors. Can know the stock they came from.”

Daddy met her gaze. “I don't have much to leave to you an' your sisters. Some stories passed down from the old country, a little patch of land, and this.” He gestured to the circle of graves. “But if I can put stone markers here, then my gals'll always remember the ones who come before 'em.”

Rebekah blinked back tears. Daddy'd never spoken so brokenly, so openly to her. Protectiveness washed over her. He wanted her and Cissy and all the others to remember not only Granddaddy and Great-Granddaddy but him. He'd be laid out here someday, too, and he wanted it to be a nice place for him to rest. She wanted it, too.

“I think it's a fine idea, Daddy. All the money I make from the cave and the money Cissy gets from selling mushrooms can be our cemetery money, all right?”

“You sure you don't mind? You're all grown up now, Rebekah. You promised to get Andy's marker, but after that you could be settin' that money aside for yourself. Maybe to take yourself to the city an'—”

“No, Daddy.” She wouldn't leave her family. She'd stolen Andy from them. She owed them. Besides that, her whole life Daddy had taken care of her. All he'd ever asked in return was for her to obey and serve the Lord. She couldn't recall one time he'd been selfish and demanded something for himself. If her earnings could give him the satisfaction of leaving something of value behind, then she'd gladly hand over every penny. She didn't need anything more than to see him happy.