toting packages and wearing coal dust from head to toe, trudged up the street. His head bobbed like he was falling asleep on his feet, and his shoulders hung as sloped as rain-soaked branches. He sure looked beat. More beat than Mule after a full day of carting her over her mountain route. Fool feller must’ve missed the wagon. She swallowed a little chortle. Reckon he wouldn’t do that again.
“C’mon, Mule, let’s go see who it is there that got left behind.” She tapped her heels. Mule snorted, but he clopped a little faster. Bettina kept her squinty gaze pinned on the feller, and all of a sudden his predicament didn’t seem funny anymore. She ordered Mule to stop, slid to the ground, and hollered, “Emmett!”
His head came up, and his gaze lit on hers. He stopped dead in his tracks.
She dropped Mule’s reins and hurried to him. Up close, he surely was a sight, his hands wrapped with strips of blood-stained cloth and his face so filthy she couldn’t hardly tell it was him. She took the boxes that dangled from his fingers by strings and gawked at him. “Since when’re you workin’ in the mine? An’ how come you’re walkin’? The wagon shoulda brung you back two hours ago.”
He scrunched his face. Coal dust formed whiskers in the creases. “I had to buy gloves and boots, and I guess I took too long at the store, because the wagon went on without me.” He lifted his arm real slow and swiped his face with his sleeve. The whiskers got lost under a smear of black dust. “So I walked.”
Bettina shook her head, swinging his boxes. “If I’d known you was stranded, I’da brung Mule down the mountain to carry you home.” She would’ve got up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle to keep ’em both on the mule’s back. Wouldn’t that’ve been fine?
“That’s nice of you, Bettina, but I think your old mule works hard enough taking you on your book route.”
She plunked her fist on her hip, bopping her thigh with the smaller box. “You sayin’ I’m a heavisome burden for Mule all by own self?”
He drew back. “No. I meant—” He blew out a big breath. “I’m too tired to think.”
She should oughta let him go home, rinse off the layer of dust, and drop into bed, but she needed the pleasure of talking to him to reflect on later, when she was home and Pap was bellowing at her because the new book gal wasn’t staying with them. “Pap didn’t tell me you was workin’ at Mine Thirty-One.”
“He didn’t know. I didn’t know myself until this morning. I had to get a job, so…” He reached for the boxes. “Listen, Bettina, my maw’s probably worrying about me. I better go.”
She flopped the boxes behind her back. “You’re plumb wore out. Lemme carry these for you.”
“That’s real nice, but—”
“You’re near to drop. Here.” She put the boxes on the ground and curled her hands around his arm. His muscles felt tight and quivery, and it made her insides shiver. Yessir, he was strong. Stronger’n Pap, for sure. She guided him toward the library. “You sit there on the lib’ary stoop, an’ I’ll fetch ol’ Mule. After I turn in my pack, you an’ me’ll ride Mule to your place. Don’t that sound better’n climbin’ the path when you’re so tuckered you can’t hardly put one foot in the front o’ the other?”
His feet dragged like he was wearing concrete shoes, but he made it to the library and sank down on the stoop. He let out a low groan. “This is a mistake. Now that I’m sitting, I might not be able to get up again.”
She patted his shoulder, raising a little puff of dust. “Don’t you worry none about that. I’ll help you up.”
Miz West stepped into the doorway. She looked at Bettina, then Emmett, then Bettina again. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes’m.” Bettina beamed at the woman. Oh, how she liked taking care of Emmett. She felt sorry for him, but now he’d get a little peek at how good she’d be to him when they was married. “This here’s my friend. He needs to sit for a minute an’ catch his breath. Soon as I get my pack for you, we’ll be on our way. Shouldn’t take no longer’n two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
Emmett put his elbows on his knees and sagged forward.
Miz West stared at him for