but she didn’t state the truths. She showed them in the terror and helplessness of a little girl, in the heartache of a young woman who desired friends and acceptance, in the pride and determination of a tribe of people who carved a life on the mountainside.
“Books, Addie, have the power to change people for the better.”
If she was going to live and work and worship in this community, then she would do her best to leave the town of Boone’s Hollow better than she’d found it. Just as Miss West had tried to do.
Bettina
BETTINA FASTENED THE silver barrette in her hair, then gave herself a quick look-see in the round cracked mirror hanging on her wall. She’d cracked that mirror herself so her soul could escape if the mirror captured it, but she didn’t want to take no chances by looking at herself too long. Still, she wanted to know. Miz Tharp had said she looked pretty with her bangs clipped away from her face—said it brought out her eyes. But maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.
Why couldn’t she have green eyes like Alba or brown like Glory? Instead, she got a muddy mix of the two. Hazel, her maw had called it. Not even a real color name. She yanked out the barrette, losing a few brown hairs with it, and let her bangs flop over her forehead. She grunted. No better.
She sank onto her bed and fiddled with the barrette. She didn’t have no other way to make herself look nice for Emmett. She couldn’t change into a dress. Mule would buck her right off if she tried climbing on his back while wearing a skirt. That ol’ mule, he was plain peculiar about flapping fabric. Of course, the other girls’d all be in their overalls or dungarees, too, including Addie Coward, so wearing her overalls didn’t trouble her near so much as having something that would set her apart from the others in a good way.
All her playing with the barrette had left fingerprints behind. She rubbed it shiny again on her pant leg and returned to the mirror. She sucked in her breath to keep hold of her soul and stared at her reflection, trying to see herself the way Miz Tharp had. Now, Damaris Tharp, she was a kind lady. Maw and her had been the best of friends, and that’s what put Bettina and Emmett together so much. Seemed to Bettina it meant they was s’posed to always be together. Miz Tharp thought her eyes was pretty, even if they didn’t have a real color name. Did Emmett maybe think the same as his maw?
She ducked away from the mirror and let her breath whoosh out. Standing here staring at herself wouldn’t change her looks. It’d only make her late to work, and she wanted to be the first one through the door on Emmett’s first day of directing the library.
On her way across the dewy grass to the barn, she slicked her bangs away from her forehead and clipped them into place. The morning mist was already fading away from the treetops, looking more like spiderwebs than clouds. She’d piddled too much, messing with her hair. Now she’d be late. She growled under her breath, thinking hard. If she didn’t saddle Mule, she could get going a lot faster. Staying on his back on some of those steep climbs wouldn’t be easy without a saddle, but if she held real tight with her heels, she could do it.
She put his harness on him and led him from their lean-to barn. The carrots she’d put in her pocket for lunch, along with a brown-sugar-and-butter sandwich, made a fine bribe to keep him moving. She kept them right out of his reach until she got to the library. At the smokehouse, she tossed his reins over a holly bush and gave him one of the carrots as a reward. Then she darted for the open doorway, setting her face in a smile.
The mumble of voices brought her to a skidding halt. She tilted her ear to the opening, then let out a huff. Oh, that Addie! She’d got there first! Bettina stomped to the stoop, then jerked backward. Addie stood on the other side of the threshold.
The girl smiled big, like she knew she’d bested Bettina. “Good morning, Bettina. Please excuse me. I need to go get Russet.”
Bettina eyed Addie up and down. She’d rolled the cuffs of her overalls