The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,73
girls another director would be assigned to the Boone’s Hollow post, she wouldn’t waste her money on clothes and shoes she’d likely never wear outside this community.
But Miss West had said, “President Roosevelt is determined that the hills people are given every opportunity to better themselves, so the council in charge of the packhorse librarians program will hire a replacement for me. While you wait for the new director to arrive, you girls must continue your routes with all due diligence.”
Miss West’s insistence inspired Addie to do the job for which she’d been hired. As soon as she could get up on Russet’s back.
Bettina hopped down, looped the animals’ reins around a porch post, then gave a little leap onto the long covered porch in front of Belcher’s store and sauntered to the door. Addie stepped up with less grace. Her backside still hurt from her thump on the hard ground. Bettina waited at the screen door, snickering, but she didn’t say anything as Addie limped into the store.
Whirring ceiling fans and light bulbs at the end of twisted brown wire hung from the high beamed ceiling. She’d presumed Boone’s Hollow was without electrical service since the library had none. The touch of civilization gave her an unexpected lift. As did the variety of goods available for sale. Units of unpainted freestanding shelves stood in rows from one end of the interior to the other. Handwritten signs tacked to the shelves advertised sales on canned peas, yard goods, Dreft detergent, and Post Toasties.
“This way.” Bettina led Addie toward the rear of the store. “Clothes’re back here. Belcher’s don’t keep dresses an’ such—ladies sew their own or order from the Sears an’ Roebuck catalog. A few of ’em go into Lynch to the minin’ store. But you ain’t needin’ any more dresses.” She humphed and turned a corner, then pointed to folded stacks of blue, tan, or railroad-striped overalls. “Reckon you need a shirt, too. Unless you wanna stuff that skirt into your britches.”
Addie had no intention of stuffing her dress inside a pair of britches. She ran her finger down the stack of tan bibbed overalls. “What size do you wear, Bettina?”
The other girl folded her arms over the bib of her faded blue overalls. “Why you wanna know?”
Why was she always so defensive? Addie drew in a slow breath, praying for patience. “Because it will help me know what size to buy. I’m a little taller—”
“An’ wider.” Bettina looked Addie up and down, one eyebrow higher than the other.
What an impolite thing to say, even though it was true. Bettina was as slender as a willow branch. Addie sighed. “Yes. I thought if I knew your size, I’d just go up a size or two and we could save the time of my trying them on.”
Bettina smacked her finger down on the tag attached by a string to a pair of blue overalls. “That there’s what I wear.”
Addie added two more numbers, slid the tan overalls from the stack, and tucked them into the crook of her arm. “Now, boots.”
“Them are in a bin near the front counter.” Bettina headed off, and Addie followed. A woman and a little boy were at the bin, pawing through the boots, and Bettina hurried over to them. “Miz Tharp! An’ Dusty. Hey, how you doin’?”
The woman turned and wrapped Bettina in a hug. “Why, Bettina, what are you doin’ in here? Shouldn’t you be on your delivery route?”
“You’re right, I should be.” Bettina laughed and pulled free. She poked her thumb in Addie’s direction. “But our new book gal here needs some horseback-wearin’ clothes.”
The woman finger-combed the little boy’s dark hair and aimed a shy smile at Addie. “Howdy. Been hearin’ about the new gal in town. It’s right nice to meet you. I’m Damaris Tharp, an’ this here is my boy Dusty.” Friendliness seemed to exude from the woman.
Addie eagerly stepped forward. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Tharp. I’m Addie Cowherd. Did you say your name is Damaris? I’ve never heard it before, but it’s lovely.”
“Why, that’s real kind o’ you.” She dipped her head in a humble gesture. “My maw took it from the Bible. I’ve always been right fond of it.”
Tharp…In a town this small, would there be more than one Tharp family? “Ma’am, are you any relation to Emmett Tharp?”
Surprise registered on the woman’s face. “He’s my oldest boy. You met Emmett?”
Addie nodded. “In Lexington at the university. We—”