and stopped on the opposite side of the desk. She smiled. “I made it just fine using your directions. Thank you.”
Griselda Ann’s brows pinched. “I presumed you would. I have a message for you from Mrs. Hunt. She needs to see you.”
“All right. Do you know what she wants?”
“Yes, I do.”
Addie waited for a few seconds as Griselda Ann sat with tightly sealed lips. Addie held her hands outward. “Well?”
The woman laughed softly. “Oh, no. She specifically said to send you to her. She’ll have to tell you herself.”
Curiosity twined through Addie’s middle. “But—”
“Go, Addie.”
“Shouldn’t I clock in first?”
Griselda Ann flicked her fingers. “Go.”
Addie hurried toward the staircase leading to the second floor and climbed the steps. What did Mrs. Hunt want with her? Being invited to Mrs. Hunt’s office wasn’t an unusual request. The head librarian stayed involved in all aspects of the library’s operation and often delivered personal instructions or accolades or, according to some other employees, an occasional reprimand. Addie didn’t expect a reprimand. However, the last time she’d been summoned to an office, she received unexpected, distressing news. The remembrance stirred hints of apprehension, and her hand trembled slightly as she raised it and tapped on the doorframe.
“Come in, Addie.”
Addie entered the room and crossed to the director’s desk. The smile on the woman’s face diminished the uncertainty that had gripped Addie. She smiled in response. “Grisel—Miss Collins said you wanted to speak to me.”
“Indeed, I do. Please sit down.”
The straight-backed chair from the corner now sat facing Mrs. Hunt’s desk. Addie’s apprehension flickered to life again. Apparently, Mrs. Hunt planned a lengthy conversation if she wanted Addie to sit. Addie’s knees went weak. She sank into the chair and folded her hands in her lap.
“Have you been accepted at any of the places of employment at which you’ve applied for positions?”
Addie shook her head, hoping her negative response wouldn’t discourage her boss. After all, the woman had penned a very kind letter of reference for her. “I plan to revisit some of them after work today, though.” Oh, please let her sophisticated appearance garner fresh attention.
Mrs. Hunt lifted a folded sheet of paper from a box on the corner of her desk. She waved it slightly. “Before you decide to revisit those places of business, let me tell you about an opportunity of which I became aware over the weekend. Have you heard of the Works Progress Administration?”
“Isn’t it a program established by the president to give people jobs?”
“It is.” Mrs. Hunt unfolded the sheet, then laid it on her desk and linked her hands on top of it. “My mother’s cousin Lydia West received a WPA job as director of a very small library in a town nestled on the side of Black Mountain. It’s an impoverished area with many uneducated families living in the hills. Lydia organizes the library’s books and various reading materials. These books are distributed among the hills people so they, especially the children in the families, are exposed to reading and literature.”
Recalling the joy of checking out books from the library when she was a child, Addie couldn’t resist smiling. “What a wonderful idea.”
“I quite agree. The books are carried to the families by employees who ride horses up into the hills. Lydia calls them”—she glanced at the paper under her hands—“packhorse librarians.”
Such a quaint title. Addie imagined it as a book title, and at once a story formed in her mind.
“According to Lydia, the three young women serving as packhorse librarians are overtaxed by the many stops they must make. She petitioned and received approval to add a fourth rider. And, of course, I thought of you.”
Still contemplating the delightful story that could grow from sending out librarians on horseback, Addie almost missed Mrs. Hunt’s final comment. The woman’s meaning sank in, and she gave a little jolt. “Me?”
The woman chuckled. “Why not? You need a job, and the WPA pays a fair wage. You’re familiar with the inner workings of a library system, and I know you’re a proponent of reading.” Her lips curved upward and her eyes sparkled. “What do you think, Addie? Are you interested in becoming a packhorse librarian?”
Addie
ADDIE STARED AT MRS. HUNT while searching for an appropriate reply. Of course she wanted a job. She needed a job. But as a packhorse librarian in a little town so far away? She’d imagined herself working in Lexington, only a short train ride from Georgetown where Mother and Daddy and all things