The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,41

He nodded and slipped his hat onto his head. “I understand. I appreciate your time.” He started toward the door.

“If something changes and the young lady from Lexington decides not to come, I’ll let you know.”

Emmett smiled his thanks and left the building. He didn’t expect to hear from Miss West. Only a fool would turn down a steady job these days. He grabbed Red’s reins and pulled himself onto the saddle. “C’mon, Red, let’s get ourselves to Lynch.”

Over the remainder of the week, Emmett gave every last penny of his tutoring money to Kermit Gilliam for the privilege of riding Red down the mountain. By Friday, he’d visited every department store, bank, grocery store, factory, and office in Lynch, Benham, and Cumberland. Everywhere he went, he received a variation of the same reply—“I’m sorry, young man, but we’re not hirin’.”

In desperation, he even went to Tuckett’s Pass and asked the man operating a little mill if he could use an extra hand. The man glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Ain’t you from Boone’s Holler, boy?” At Emmett’s nod, he added, “Then you’d best skee-daddle.”

Emmett returned Red to the livery early Friday afternoon. As Kermit poured oats into a bucket for Red, Emmett asked if he needed any help at the livery.

Kermit burst out laughing. “Hooeey, boy, you ain’t gonna leave nary a stone unturned, are you?” He slapped Emmett’s shoulder, his laughter fading. “I wish I could say yes. My ol’ bones, they’re gettin’ weary o’ tendin’ these beasts, an’ I know you’d be a real good worker, comin’ from such good stock an’ all. Yessir, I’d be hard pressed to find finer folks’n your maw an’ paw. But I ain’t got money to pay nobody. Barely got money to pay for oats. I’m sorry.”

Emmett was sorry, too, but like Paw sometimes said, sorry didn’t change anything. He left the livery and headed home, his steps slow and his heart heavy. This evening his family planned to attend the Boone’s Hollow and Tuckett’s Pass mountain school graduation ceremony. Everybody in town went to school events, whether programs or baseball games or spelling bees or graduations. Maw would expect him to go with her, Paw, and Dusty, but he hoped he’d be able to talk his way out of it. He’d had a long visit with Mr. Halcomb after supper at his folks’ place Wednesday evening, so he didn’t feel the need to see his old teacher. After his frustrating, fruitless days of job searching, he needed some time alone. To think. To plan. And, as Maw would encourage, to pray.

Emmett passed the Barrs’ shack. Mrs. Barr was in the yard hacking at weeds with a hoe while a runny-nosed toddler wearing a shirt but no pants hung on her skirt. Emmett waved hello, the polite thing to do, and the woman bobbed her head in reply. The sorrowful, resigned look aging the woman’s face pained Emmett in ways he couldn’t understand, and he hurried to the rise leading to his folks’ cabin.

The cabin door stood open in silent invitation, and Emmett stepped in. To his surprise, Paw sat at the kitchen table with his work boot propped on his knee and a can of polish open in front of him.

Emmett glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, then turned to Paw. “How come you’re home so early?” He could remember only two times that Paw came home midday, and both times somebody’d gotten hurt in the mine. “Was there an accident?”

Paw dipped the rag in the polish and rubbed it on the toe of his boot. “Nothin’ like that. Boss let any of us from Boone’s Holler or Tuckett’s Pass off early today since it’s graduatin’ day for the youngsters.”

Relief sagged Emmett’s bones.

“Three of ’em gettin’ diplomas this year. All girls, two of ’em from Boone’s Holler.”

He dropped into the chair across from Paw. Strange how Paw’s voice didn’t take on a hard edge when speaking of other folks’ children earning diplomas. He saved his disdain for his own son. Emmett pushed the wry thought aside. “It’s nice they let you go.”

Paw shrugged. “Started it last year. The big boss figures it’s good for…” He scrunched his face. “Forget what they call it.”

“Morale?”

“Yeah. Morale.” Paw snorted. “Whatever that is.”

Emmett could define the word but decided not to. “Where’s Maw?”

“Went to Belcher’s. She’s wantin’ to bake an almond cream cake for the after-graduation party, an’ she was out o’ almond flavorin’. Hope Belcher’s has what she’s