The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,126

what God does best. It’s showin’ love an’ forgiveness, even to folks who don’t deserve it.”

Bettina fiddled with a new tear in her sleeve. She probably got it last night when she was pushing Mule through brambles and trees. Her insides felt all tore up, too. But somehow, what Nanny Fay said made her feel like maybe some things inside were mending. Why hadn’t she ever noticed how kindly Nanny Fay was? Most folks talked bad about her, wouldn’t give her so much as a howdy-do, but if somebody was ailing and needed help, she gave ’em her cures. Nanny Fay gave grace. And she’d loved Maw.

Bettina looked up into Nanny Fay’s eyes. “I wanna come stay with you.”

Nanny Fay made a happy gasp, and she pressed her palms to her heart. “Oh, honey…”

Maw used to call her honey. The name made Bettina go all warm inside. She wanted to help Nanny Fay feel that way, too. She’d said lots of mean things, but she could fix at least one of ’em.

“Nanny Fay? That blueberry jam didn’t taste like dirt. It tasted like happiness.”

Black Mountain

Addie

“YOO-HOO IN THE HOUSE!” ADDIE held tight to Mule’s reins and kept him at the edge of the woods. She’d learned not to enter people’s yards unless they invited her. But a person was allowed to holler for attention. Mother wouldn’t approve of a lady yelling across a yard, but things were different here in the hills.

The cabin door creaked open, and Mrs. Hinson stepped out. A teenage girl and two little boys came, too. The littlest boy climbed the railing and clung to the post cut from a sapling’s trunk. He reminded Addie of a little monkey. Mrs. Hinson’s hands went to her hips. She was a big-boned woman, and the pose gave her a fierce appearance.

“You again? Didn’t I tell you not to bring no books here?”

“Yes, ma’am, you did. And I didn’t bring you books.”

The little boy on the railing hopped down and stomped his foot. “Aw, Maw!”

She cupped the back of his head with her large hand and propelled him toward the door. “Git inside, Jamie. Mercy, Sam, you go in, too.” The children obeyed, casting curious looks toward Addie over their shoulders. The woman glared at Addie again. “Then what you doin’ here?”

“I came to ask a question.”

Mrs. Hinson moved to the edge of the porch. “What question?”

Addie sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for the woman’s interest. “May I come up a little closer so I don’t have to yell?” She patted Mule’s neck. “This old fellow doesn’t much like me yelling in his ear.”

The mule twitched his ears as if adding agreement.

Mrs. Hinson waved her hand. “C’mon up, then, but stay on your mule’s back. I only got time for a short talk.”

Addie grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Boone’s Hollow

Emmett

EMMETT PROPPED HIMSELF against the library doorjamb and watched for Mule. As soon as Addie got back, he’d drop into his cot and sleep until tomorrow morning. Well, he’d sleep after he had a chance to talk with Addie. She needed a warning before she returned to Nanny Fay’s.

Mule—being ridden and not led—came clopping from around the bend at the head of the road. Addie sat on his back, as regal as a princess on a tasseled litter. She must have spotted him, because she raised her hand high and waved, smiling big. The corners of his lips tugged upward of their own accord, and he stepped off the stoop and met the mule on the patch of ground outside the library.

Addie handed him the bulky pack. “Were you worried about me?”

“Not so much worried as curious.” He flopped the pack over his shoulder. The thing was heavy. He patted it, offering her a sympathetic grimace. “Did you bring ’em all back?”

She laughed and slid to the ground. “Sort of. I brought back some of what you sent today, but I retrieved some that had been delivered previously.”

He jolted in surprise. The motion unbalanced him, and he took a stumbling sideways step, gaping at her. “Some folks traded with you?”

She nodded, smiling so big her cheeks were like rosy apples. “Mm-hmm!” She slipped her hand through his elbow and guided him to the library, jabbering as animatedly as Glory or Alba did with the other. “Mrs. Hinson swapped with me, which made her little Jamie turn cartwheels. Mrs. Woodward and Mrs. Petty wouldn’t let me come in their yards, but Mrs. Retzel, Mrs. Grimes, and Mrs. Harp all traded