The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,33

familiar were found. Kentucky’s Black Mountain was three hours away in what amounted to the opposite direction of home. Did she want to go to Black Mountain?

“Addie, what are your thoughts?”

Mrs. Hunt would think she was addlebrained if she didn’t say something. “I…I’m…”

Mrs. Hunt laughed. “I’m sure you’re full of questions. Let me provide a little more information, hmm? First of all, the position pays twenty-nine dollars a month.”

Addie’s mouth fell open. She’d earned six dollars and fifty cents a month working at the Lexington Public Library. The prospect of earning twenty-nine dollars a month felt like a windfall.

“And, of course, you must be able to ride a horse. Are you familiar with riding a horse?”

On the way home from the orphans’ asylum after Daddy and Mother adopted her, they’d taken her to a little fair. She’d eaten cotton candy, won a rag doll by knocking over milk bottles with small bean-filled bags, and ridden a pony named Gert on a circular track. A photo of her sitting astride Gert’s back had been displayed for years on a table in the parlor, and she surmised Mother and Daddy now had it in their room at the boardinghouse. Of course, riding a full-sized horse on mountain trails would differ from her brief ride on Gert’s back, but at least she wasn’t completely inexperienced. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve ridden before.”

“The town where Lydia’s library is stationed is called Boone’s Hollow, not far from the mining town of Lynch. There are no boardinghouses or hotels in Boone’s Hollow—it’s much too small for that—but Lydia stays in the library building itself. Given the difficulties of the times, someone should be willing to board you for a small stipend each month, or perhaps you could take a room at one of the boardinghouses in Lynch. Lydia says rooms are available to let for two dollars and fifty cents a week, and Boone’s Hollow is only a mile from Lynch.”

The distance between Boone’s Hollow and Lynch didn’t alarm Addie nearly as much as the distance between Boone’s Hollow and her parents. But how could she turn down the opportunity to earn almost thirty dollars a month? Even after paying for boarding, she’d have plenty left over. She could send some to the college and still be able to help Mother and Daddy. Fear drummed a wild beat within her breast. She held her breath, willing her erratic pulse to calm, and bit the inside of her lip.

Mrs. Hunt set the letter aside and folded her hands on the desk, brows low. “Addie, if you aren’t interested in the position, you will not offend me by saying so.”

Addie’s breath eased out. She swallowed. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I was thinking. Deciding.” A nervous giggle escaped. “I’ve never made such a big decision on my own. It’s a little overwhelming.”

Understanding bloomed on the library director’s face. “Of course it is. Would you like to call your parents and seek their counsel before answering?”

As much as Addie wanted to talk to her parents, she shouldn’t waste money on a telephone call. She could almost hear Mother’s voice in her head. “We’ve been praying for provision, and God has provided.” Daddy’s deep yet tender voice followed. “Working beneath the direction of a woman who is known and recommended by someone you trust gives me full confidence you will be well cared for.”

Addie held her hands outward. “Mrs. Hunt, I know how my parents would counsel me. They would say God has opened a door and I should walk through it.”

Mrs. Hunt smiled. She reached for the telephone sitting on the corner of her desk. “Shall I let Lydia know a new packhorse librarian has been located?”

Addie’s heart thudded in both apprehension and anticipation as she nodded.

Mrs. Hunt picked up the receiver and dialed the 0. “Operator? Please connect me with Boone’s Hollow, Kentucky.”

Boone’s Hollow

Bettina

BETTINA FLUNG THE saddlebag-like pouch over her shoulder. The weight smacked down on her back, and she winced. It must’ve hit right where Pap’d landed a blow last night at supper. Her own fault. She shouldn’t have fed him beans without no salt pork in them. She’d hoped he’d be too pickled to notice, but…

She shifted the pouch and glared across the beat-up old table and stacks of books at the city-lady librarian. “How many books’ve you loaded me with this time, Miz West? Feels like a hunnerd at least.”

The woman sent Bettina the kind of look Alba Gilkey gave bugs that landed on her hand.