The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,47
was hiding somewhere in that thick growth of trees and brush.
A short, pimple-faced young man in a rumpled blue uniform scuttled to her and thumped her suitcases near her feet.
She smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
He tipped his little cap. “You’re welcome, miss. You needin’ help gettin’ your things to the Lynch Hotel? I can carry ’em for you.”
“No, thank you. I’m not staying at the hotel.”
“Your folks comin’ for you, then?”
“No.” Although she hoped someone was coming. There didn’t seem to be anyone around other than this depot employee.
He scratched his head. “Then what’m I s’posed to do with you?”
She stifled a chortle. This fellow took his job seriously. Or maybe he was seeking a sizable tip. He’d be disappointed. After paying for her train ticket and an egg salad sandwich in Mount Vernon, she carried less than three dollars in her purse. She needed it to cover her expenses until her first WPA wages arrived.
With a smile, she picked up her suitcases and turned for the corner of the building. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.”
He made a face that expressed doubt, but he ambled to the door of the building and stepped inside. As he closed the door, the train’s whistle blew. Its wheels squealed against the track, and the locomotive rolled beyond the depot.
The vibration of the boards made Addie feel unsteady, and she hurried from the boardwalk to a concrete sidewalk. She followed it to the opposite side of the depot building, which, as she’d presumed, was the front. She paused for a moment, startled by the size of the town spread out haphazardly along a winding parcel of gently sloping ground. To her delight, a bank building constructed of carved stone matched the grandeur of those in Georgetown and Lexington. She spotted a three-story brick building with signs indicating it housed a restaurant and a movie theater. According to a poster hung on the side of the building, Mutiny on the Bounty, starring Clark Gable and Charles Laughton, was the featured film. She’d seen it last year with Felicity and her “guys,” but she wouldn’t mind watching it again. Felicity had declared that Charles Laughton’s accent was enough to make a girl swoon.
A smile tugged at her lips, images of excursions with the other packhorse librarians and young people from Boone’s Hollow forming in her head. But first she needed to get to Boone’s Hollow. The sun was already sneaking behind the mountaintops, and shadows fell heavy over the valley. She preferred to get settled before full night arrived. Where was the driver Mrs. Hunt had promised would come for her?
A wagon pulled by a white horse with black speckles on its rump rolled toward the depot. A man and a woman sat at opposite ends of the driver’s seat. The woman held on to the seat’s edge with one hand and raised the other in a wave.
Addie set down her suitcases and waved in reply.
The man drew the wagon within a few feet of Addie, set the brake, and squinted down at her from beneath the brim of a floppy, stained leather hat. “You there, young lady—is you Adelaide…Adelaide…” He scowled at the woman. “What did you call her back name?”
“Cowherd.” The woman pushed the word through gritted teeth. She reached her hand to Addie. “Are you Miss Cowherd?”
Addie took hold of the woman’s hand. “Yes, ma’am. Please call me Addie. Are you Miss West?”
“I am. Please excuse our tardy arrival. Mr. Gilliam’s, er, pulling horse had a loose shoe, to which he needed to attend before we set out.”
“It’s all right. The train only left a few minutes ago.”
“As long as you weren’t concerned you’d been forgotten.”
The thought had crossed her mind, but she wouldn’t distress her new boss by saying so. The older woman seemed uptight enough. “No, ma’am, not at all.”
An airy sigh left Miss West’s throat. She released Addie’s hand and turned to the driver. “Please put Miss Cowherd’s belongings in the wagon bed. I believe she and I will sit in the back for the drive to Boone’s Hollow.”
“Dunno why you’d wanna do that. Can put the girl up here betwixt us.” He grinned, and Addie tried not to squirm. He was nearly toothless and had a moist wad of something grimy caught in his lower lip. She’d been taught not to stare at folks, but she found it challenging not to. “This bench sits three fellers. It’ll sit the three of us just fine.” He