The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,18

down a hill. Pap had bellowed like a mad bull when he found out about it, but what did she care? She’d be a married-up woman soon, so she didn’t have to answer to Pap no more.

Should she show the dress to Glory and watch her turn green with envy? Might be fun, but even better was saving it, letting Emmett be the first one to see her in it. She closed her eyes, imagining herself in that pretty dress with her brown hair done up in curls. Emmett’d wear a black suit, and the two of them would stand so proud in front of the preacher. Everybody in the church would cry tears of pure joy when she pledged herself to Emmett for the rest of her earthly days. Her whole frame gave a little shiver, and she popped her eyes open.

Glory was grinning. “Soon as he’s home, reckon I know what you’ll be doin’.”

“You’re right about that.” Bettina hunched her shoulders and giggled. “An’ high time, too.”

“You’re so lucky, Bettina.” Glory plopped onto the edge of Bettina’s bed. The ropes squeaked like a mouse with its tail caught in a trap.

Bettina hated them traps. And she hated that sound. She sat next to Glory, real careful so the ropes wouldn’t squawk. “Don’t I know it? When me an’ Emmett get our house, we’ll buy a real bed frame an’ one o’ those sets with a box spring an’ a cotton-filled mattress to put on top, like they got at the store in Lynch. No more straw-filled sack laid out over a tangle of ropes.” She slapped the patchwork quilt hiding the offending bed from view. “No sirree, me an’ Emmett’ll live fine as frog’s hair. Now that he’s got goodly educated, he’ll be takin’ a high-payin’ job.”

Glory’s jaw dropped open. “You figure on movin’ to the city?”

Bettina shrugged. She rose and sashayed to the corner of the small room, swaying her hips the way the movie starlets from the picture shows at the Lynch theater did. She spun and faced Glory, giving her head a toss. The starlets did that, too, and it looked real sassy. “Don’t see how we can avoid it. Ain’t no work around here worth havin’.” If it wasn’t for President Roosevelt wanting the folks living up in the hills to have books to read, she wouldn’t have a job at all. She didn’t much like making that long trek up into the mountains every day, hauling a heavy leather satchel full of books, but she sure liked having her own money to spend. What of her pay Pap let her keep, that is. But she’d give up the whole pay in the flash of sunlight on a large mouth bass’s belly to be Mrs. Emmett Tharp.

Glory bounced up and caught Bettina in a hug. The smell from her family’s last dinner—sauerkraut, baked apples, and smoked beans—filled Bettina’s nostrils, and she angled her face as far from Glory’s tangled hair as possible. She wouldn’t never cook sauerkraut nor beans for Emmett when they was wed.

“I’m gonna miss you somethin’ fierce.” Glory held Bettina so tight she near cut off Bettina’s breath. “You an’ me been friends since we was hardly out o’ the cradle.”

Bettina gave Glory’s pointy shoulder blades a quick pat, then wriggled loose. “No sense in carryin’ on while I’m still here. Reckon me an’ Emmett’ll want a little time for courtin’ before we take our nuptials. But when our weddin’ day comes…” She took hold of Glory’s hands and looked her friend straight in the eyes. “I’m gonna want you to stand up front with me.”

Glory’s brown eyes near popped out of her head. She squealed so loud that Bettina’s ears rang.

She clamped her hand over Glory’s mouth. “Hush that! My pap hears you, he’ll wanna know why you’re caterwaulin’, an’ I don’t want him squashin’ none o’ my plans. You gonna be quiet?”

Glory nodded, and Bettina let go of her mouth. Glory clasped her hands under her chin. “I’m so excited, Bettina. I can’t hardly wait for your weddin’.”

“Me neither.” Bettina scowled at her closed door. “If Pap has his way, I’ll be here cookin’ his meals an’ washin’ his clothes ’til I’m as old as Nanny Fay.”

Glory laughed. “Won’t nobody ’round here live as long as Nanny Fay. My maw says she’s stirred up a special tonic for stayin’ alive an’ she’s really over a hunnerd years old.”

Bettina didn’t care how old the herb lady was. She