The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,87

best.”

Bettina folded her arms right over her chest. He didn’t talk mean. Not like Pap did. But she still wanted to shrink into the floorboards, being spoke to that way by Emmett in front of Addie, Glory, and Alba. Worst, she didn’t know what deviate meant, but Addie probably did.

“So, with that being said…” He flipped a page on the notebook and shifted himself in front of the book again. “Let me share what changes to today’s schedule have been made to make three routes into four.”

Emmett took away one stop from Glory and two from Alba and gave them to Addie. Glory asked how come she’d only lost one stop. He told her it had to do with distance and that the number of stops would all balance out by the end of the week. He didn’t scold her for asking a question, and Bettina came close to reminding him he wasn’t gonna give no explanations. But then he handed out their packs, and when Bettina took hers, their fingers brushed. Did he do that on purpose? She gave him a little smile. He didn’t seem to notice, and her spirits sank to her stomach like a rock to the bottom of a well.

He stood and pushed his hands into his pockets. “All right, ladies, you’re set.”

Ladies? Miz West always called them girls. Bettina kinda liked being called a lady instead.

“I’ll see you all back here around five, if my calculations are correct.”

“Five?” Glory near shouted the word. She sent a big smile at Addie. “I ain’t been home before six, not one single time since we started these routes. This’s gonna be great havin’ you out there takin’ books, too.”

Bettina made a sour face and hoped Glory saw it. She wouldn’t even mind if Emmett saw it. She stomped out the door. First Emmett kept secrets with Addie, then Glory acted like Addie was their new hero. Bettina wouldn’t complain, because she wanted her evenings free so her and Emmett could get to courting, but he was gonna have to get off his high horse when they was at work together. And she was gonna have to find out what Addie’d wrote on them papers.

Black Mountain

Addie

“WHO’RE YOU?”

Addie clung to Russet’s reins and stared down the barrel of the rifle. She swallowed hard. “I’m Addie Cowherd, Mrs. Cissell.”

The tip of the rifle lowered slightly, but the woman didn’t remove her finger from the trigger. “I don’t know nobody named Cowherd.” Three children clung to her skirts and peered at Addie over the edge of the porch railing. The fear in their eyes made Addie’s heart ache.

“I came with Bettina Webber last week when she brought you your books. Remember?”

“Nope.”

“She brought…” Addie consulted the list Emmett had given her. “A copy of Life magazine, two children’s picture books—The Little Red Hen and Jolly Pets—and A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway.” She patted her bag. “I have some new books to exchange with you. If I may—”

The rifle barrel bounced up, and the woman squinted one eye shut. “ ’Less you want a new part in your hair, you stay right there.” The smallest child began to whimper. “I recollect Bettina comin’, same as she always does, an’ I recall some girl a-standin’ in the trees.”

Which was where Bettina had instructed her to remain. “Yes, ma’am. That was me. Bettina brought me here because she won’t be delivering books to your house anymore. You’re on my route now. If you’d let me come up close, I’ll take last week’s books and give you these new ones.” She braved a smile at the round-eyed, dirty-faced children. “I bet your children would enjoy reading The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger. The pictures are delightful.” She reached inside her pack, intending to hold up the book.

“Do you have rocks for ears? I said you ain’t welcome on my land. Whatever you got in your bag, you keep it an’ move on.”

Addie tugged Russet’s reins and encouraged the animal to carry her into the brush, where she’d be out of sight. Then she stopped and rearranged the books in her pack in readiness for the next stop. How she hated leaving without handing these books to those little children. Their wide, frightened eyes haunted her. Certainly some strangers were to be feared—those who came with ill intent. But to teach children to distrust every new face they encountered wasn’t healthy. Somehow she needed to find a way to communicate that truth.

Sighing, she

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