The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,45

Daddy’s hand. Their arms formed a circle around Addie. A knot filled her throat. When she’d left for each school year, she’d known she would see them again on breaks or the occasional weekend visits. This leave-taking was so different, with much uncertainty surrounding it.

The longing to be their little girl again, cosseted and protected, rolled through her with such force it brought the sting of tears. But she wasn’t a little girl. She was grown up, and now it was her turn to take care of them. She sniffed hard and placed her hands over their joined hands. “May I pray?”

Surprise registered on Daddy’s face, but he nodded.

Addie closed her eyes. “Dear God, thank You for my mother and daddy. They taught me that You love me, and they taught me to love You and Jesus, too. They taught me that You’re always there for me, no matter where I am.” The reality of their teaching reached deep into Addie’s soul. She nodded, smiling. “Even in Boone’s Hollow. Please be with us while we’re far apart. Keep us safe and well. Provide for our needs, and let us be a blessing to those we encounter. May Your peace, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds on Your beloved Son. Amen.” She opened her eyes.

Tears formed moist tracks down Mother’s cheek, and Daddy’s eyes were watery. He briefly touched his forehead to hers, then straightened. “To be honest, Addie, I wasn’t sure you were ready to go off on your own. In here”—he touched his chest—“you’re still my little girl. But with things being the way they are, we didn’t have a choice.” He sighed, and the scent of peppermint filled the small space. “Your mother, who’s nearly as wise as Solomon, told me I’d never be ready to let you go and that these difficult circumstances could very well be God’s way of seeing His plans for you fulfilled.”

The circumstances Daddy referenced—his losing his job, their losing their house, her having to leave school and take a job far from home—paraded through her mind. Addie searched Mother’s eyes for signs of uncertainty. “Do you really believe God orchestrated all these changes?”

“He could have. But even if He didn’t, He can use them for our betterment. The Bible tells us all things work for good for the believer.” Mother’s calm, sure voice soothed the frayed edges of Addie’s heart. “Yes, it’s hard right now, but should we doubt Him when He’s been so faithful to us in the past?”

She’d never seen her parents flounder in their faithfulness. Not to God, not to each other. And not to her. She wouldn’t disappoint them now. She shook her head.

Mother smiled, and Daddy said, “That’s our girl.” They enfolded her in a hug so tight it stole her breath, but she didn’t mind. She memorized the feeling of being wrapped in their arms, wrapped in their love, so she could carry it away with her and relive it in lonely moments that were sure to plague her before she found her place of belonging in her new town.

Lynch

Emmett

PAW JAMMED A WAD OF chewing tobacco in his lip, tucked the pouch in his back pocket, and rested his elbow on the edge of an empty, black-stained coal car. “Now, before you do any blastin’, you gotta have a dummy ready to stem the hole.”

Emmett nodded, but he wasn’t altogether sure what Paw was talking about. Dummy? Stem the hole? The words joined other nonsensical terms—brow, hogsback, dip—that were muddled in his mind. How did Paw keep everything straight? When the administrator had said there wasn’t time to train him, he’d been a little perturbed. How much time could it take? To his way of thinking, all a fellow needed to do was swing a pickax and shovel out what fell loose. But now he wondered if he had enough years to learn it all. He’d never realized there was such a science to bringing up coal from deep in the earth.

He and Paw had walked down the mountain to Lynch after lunch. Paw said it would be easier for him to teach Emmett on a Sunday, when things were quiet—no workers bustling here and there and no machines running. “A mine’s a noisy place. Hard for a feller to think,” he’d said. For the past two hours, he’d led Emmett around the area that made up Mine Thirty-One, but Emmett had learned more about his father than he had about mining.