The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,25
he found a job.
From “Bringing in the Sheaves” to “When We All Get to Heaven,” “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder,” and “There Is Power in the Blood,” the folks who’d gathered in the low Baptist church sang powerfully enough to rattle the rafters. All through his college years, Emmett had attended Sunday services regularly at a Presbyterian church in Lexington. He’d promised Maw he wouldn’t neglect gathering with believers, and he always kept his promises. But he hadn’t enjoyed singing like this since the last time he’d been in Boone’s Hollow for a Sunday evening sing. By the time they reached the fifth stanza of “Shall We Gather at the River?,” Emmett’s voice was getting hoarse, and Dusty’d lost his volume. The sing would be done soon, and he knew which hymn would end it. One that nobody’d call a toe tapper, but a perfect one to close an evening of singing God’s praise.
“ ‘Gather with the saints at the river that flows by the throne of God.’ ” The song leader’s voice carried over everyone else’s with the final phrase. Then he swung his hands upward in an invitation to rise.
Benches groaned, floorboards squeaked, rustles broke out all over the small sanctuary. The organist struck a warbling chord, and as one they sang, “ ‘Amazing grace! How sweet the sound…’ ”
Tears rolled down Maw’s cheeks, the same way they always did when she sang the old song about being saved from sin by God’s grace. Emmett slipped his arm around her narrow shoulders, and she shot him a watery smile even while continuing to sing. They held the hymn’s last word, “beguuuuuuun,” until the organ’s bellows ran out of air. Then Preacher Darnell offered a closing prayer.
At his rumbling “amen,” chatter broke all over the room, and someone—a female someone—called Emmett’s name. Was it…
Maw’s knowing grin confirmed his suspicion. “Bettina’s beckonin’ you.”
“Bettina’s hollering for me.”
They spoke at the same time.
Maw laughed. She gave Emmett a light shove on his chest. “Best go see what she’s wantin’. Prob’ly gonna ask ya to join up with her an’ the other young folks for a spell o’ talkin’ an’ such, like they do pret’ near every Saturday an’ Sunday evenin’ around here.”
Before he left for college, Emmett was always part of the gathering. Back then, Bettina was too young to join in. Some of the young folks his age, including his childhood best buddy, Shay, were still in the group. But on his former visits, a few of the fellows had made sure Emmett understood he didn’t fit in as well as he used to.
He made a face. “I’d rather go on home with you an’ Dusty.”
Dusty tucked himself against Emmett’s hip and held Emmett’s arm the way Emmett used to hold vines for swinging on. He beamed, showing the gap where he’d lost his front teeth. “Sun ain’t sleepin’ yet. Wanna shoot marbles with me, Emmett?”
A perfect excuse. Emmett grinned. “Sounds good.”
Maw clicked her tongue on her teeth and shook her finger at Dusty. “Now, listen here, your brother’s too grown up for marble shootin’. He ain’t seen his friends for a good long while. We can’t be selfish with him.” She caught Dusty’s hand and pulled him to her side. “Besides, it’s nigh on your bedtime.”
Dusty folded his arms over his chest and poked out his lower lip.
Emmett started to defend his brother, but Bettina crowded close and spoke first. “Emmett, didn’t ya hear me? I was callin’ for ya.”
Maw slipped her arm through Bettina’s elbow. “He heard ya, honey. He was just tellin’ me an’ Dusty here good night.” She tipped her head back and examined Bettina’s uncovered head. “Why, Bettina, you look real purty with your bangs pulled back in a barrette like that. Brings out your eyes right nice. An’ you smell good, too. Like I recall Rosie smellin’, God rest her soul.”
Bettina twirled a strand of her brown hair around her finger. “Rinsed my hair with my maw’s lily-o’-the-valley water.”
So that’s what Emmett had smelled when she jumped him earlier. His nose twitched in remembrance.
Her fingers moved to the smooth piece of silver metal pinned at the crown of her head. “But the barrette’s mine. Real sterlin’ silver. I bought it at the company store in Lynch with some o’ my WPA money.”
“I’m sure havin’ that money come in is a blessin’.” Maw kept hold of Bettina’s arm but turned to Emmett. “Bettina an’ a couple other girls work as lib’arians, takin’ books up to