chortle faded into the distance. I’d been seen wearing nothing but an old blanket. And Dan’s head still needed mending. But then I realized what Mr. Culpepper’s presence meant: we had mail. Tears snaked down my face as I shook with laughter I couldn’t hold inside.
“You okay?” Ollie handed me clean underclothes, as well as what must have been one of her mother’s calico work dresses.
“I’m fine.” I giggled out more laughter as I dressed. It didn’t matter how hard I tried. I’d never be the lady Mama desired me to be.
I checked Dan’s head again. The gash didn’t look as horrific now. “James, why don’t you run out and get our mail? And for heaven’s sake, carry an umbrella.”
He darted for the door. I had no illusions that he’d come back dry. I just needed him out of the way while I doused Dan’s gash with iodine.
“Hold Ollie’s hand, Dan. Squeeze as hard as you want. This won’t hurt—much.”
I held my breath as I dabbed the medicine on top of the gash. Dan howled like a tomcat with his tail stuck beneath a wagon wheel. I looked up for a split second as James skidded to a stop just inside the kitchen, his face void of all color. Envelopes fell from his hand as he bolted from the house.
“James!” My voice followed him, but my legs couldn’t. Not until I’d finished with Dan.
Dan whimpered. I dried my hands, wiped Dan’s tears, and started out the door to find James. Then my foot rustled one of the letters. I stooped down to pick it up. My hand trembled as I scurried to find the others that had scattered. My treasure hunt produced two more. I fanned them out like playing cards. One from Daddy. One from Frank. And one from Arthur.
“Hold these.” I handed them to Ollie.
“One from Daddy!” Her squeal followed me as I dashed out the door, careful to lift my clean skirt above the mud and keep the umbrella directly over my head. If I knew James at all by now, he’d have buried himself in a haystack, probably with his hind end sticking out. I whistled my way into the barn, my nose wrinkling at the smell of moist hay and manure.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” I sang out as if we played a game of hide-and-seek. Sure enough, a chubby leg disappeared into a wall of hay. I reached in and pulled out my little man, his dirty face streaked with tears.
“Is he dead?” he asked, his bottom lip trembling.
I wrapped my arms around him and placed his arms around my waist. Not that he required much encouragement to cling to me. “He’s all better now, James.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t kill him.” His wail filled the barn, starting Ol’ Bob and the mules to bellowing, too.
A chuckle escaped me as I tipped his head back. “You come and see just how fine he is.”
He blinked up at me, as if weighing the truth of my words. A slow grin lit his face. I gave his behind a pat. He didn’t need any other encouragement. His little legs plowed through mud as deep as his knees until he reached the house.
“Now, Rebekah. Read it now.” Ollie pulled me toward the parlor, James jumping up and down beside her, Dan limping along behind, as if it were his leg hurt, not his head.
“Hush. You’ll wake the baby.” I let go of Ollie’s hand and picked up Dan instead. Not until I had him nestled in the corner of the sofa did I slit the envelope and pull out the letter.
Something plopped to the floor. Ollie stooped to pick it up.
“Look! It’s Daddy!” She held a photograph between her fingers.
“Let me see!” James tried to yank it away. Ollie held it out of reach and climbed up beside me. Dan leaned in. James hoisted himself over the back of the sofa, his hands on my shoulders for balance.
A blurry photograph. Three uniformed men beside a bridge, their faces too far from the camera to make out clearly. But they all looked young. More like Will’s age than Barney Graves’s.
My heart pounded in my ears. “Which one’s your daddy?”
Ollie pointed. The middle
“You okay?” Ollie handed me clean underclothes, as well as what must have been one of her mother’s calico work dresses.
“I’m fine.” I giggled out more laughter as I dressed. It didn’t matter how hard I tried. I’d never be the lady Mama desired me to be.
I checked Dan’s head again. The gash didn’t look as horrific now. “James, why don’t you run out and get our mail? And for heaven’s sake, carry an umbrella.”
He darted for the door. I had no illusions that he’d come back dry. I just needed him out of the way while I doused Dan’s gash with iodine.
“Hold Ollie’s hand, Dan. Squeeze as hard as you want. This won’t hurt—much.”
I held my breath as I dabbed the medicine on top of the gash. Dan howled like a tomcat with his tail stuck beneath a wagon wheel. I looked up for a split second as James skidded to a stop just inside the kitchen, his face void of all color. Envelopes fell from his hand as he bolted from the house.
“James!” My voice followed him, but my legs couldn’t. Not until I’d finished with Dan.
Dan whimpered. I dried my hands, wiped Dan’s tears, and started out the door to find James. Then my foot rustled one of the letters. I stooped down to pick it up. My hand trembled as I scurried to find the others that had scattered. My treasure hunt produced two more. I fanned them out like playing cards. One from Daddy. One from Frank. And one from Arthur.
“Hold these.” I handed them to Ollie.
“One from Daddy!” Her squeal followed me as I dashed out the door, careful to lift my clean skirt above the mud and keep the umbrella directly over my head. If I knew James at all by now, he’d have buried himself in a haystack, probably with his hind end sticking out. I whistled my way into the barn, my nose wrinkling at the smell of moist hay and manure.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” I sang out as if we played a game of hide-and-seek. Sure enough, a chubby leg disappeared into a wall of hay. I reached in and pulled out my little man, his dirty face streaked with tears.
“Is he dead?” he asked, his bottom lip trembling.
I wrapped my arms around him and placed his arms around my waist. Not that he required much encouragement to cling to me. “He’s all better now, James.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t kill him.” His wail filled the barn, starting Ol’ Bob and the mules to bellowing, too.
A chuckle escaped me as I tipped his head back. “You come and see just how fine he is.”
He blinked up at me, as if weighing the truth of my words. A slow grin lit his face. I gave his behind a pat. He didn’t need any other encouragement. His little legs plowed through mud as deep as his knees until he reached the house.
“Now, Rebekah. Read it now.” Ollie pulled me toward the parlor, James jumping up and down beside her, Dan limping along behind, as if it were his leg hurt, not his head.
“Hush. You’ll wake the baby.” I let go of Ollie’s hand and picked up Dan instead. Not until I had him nestled in the corner of the sofa did I slit the envelope and pull out the letter.
Something plopped to the floor. Ollie stooped to pick it up.
“Look! It’s Daddy!” She held a photograph between her fingers.
“Let me see!” James tried to yank it away. Ollie held it out of reach and climbed up beside me. Dan leaned in. James hoisted himself over the back of the sofa, his hands on my shoulders for balance.
A blurry photograph. Three uniformed men beside a bridge, their faces too far from the camera to make out clearly. But they all looked young. More like Will’s age than Barney Graves’s.
My heart pounded in my ears. “Which one’s your daddy?”
Ollie pointed. The middle
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