The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,91
would’ve been here earlier if she would have let me get back in the saddle.”
Kermit rubbed Russet’s neck, sending Emmett a knowing frown. “Like I said, she prob’ly smells somethin’ she don’t like.” He led the horse to its stall, murmuring to the animal.
Emmett guided Addie onto the street. “What do you mean the horse wouldn’t let you in the saddle?”
Addie flung the satchel over her shoulder and held one hand toward the barn. “She wouldn’t hold still for me. I got down at the Donohoo place because of the steep rise, and I never got on again.”
Emmett drew back, his jaw going slack. “You mean to tell me you walked your route from the Donohoo place on?”
She nodded. “And when you look in my pack, you’ll see I didn’t distribute a single book. No one would take them from me. Mrs. Cissell pointed a gun at me, someone at the Donohoos threatened to send the hounds after me, and”—
Emmett shook his head, certain he was hearing incorrectly.
—“Mrs. Clinkenheard said to tell you if you send me again, she won’t ever take another book from the library.”
He wasn’t unfamiliar with the community’s distrust of newcomers, but Addie had gone on routes with the other girls, who’d been instructed to introduce her to the hills folks. Even after introductions, they might still be standoffish. That was common. But outright threatening? “Did she tell you why?”
“No friend of Nanny Fay is welcome on her property.” Addie spoke flatly, but the hurt flickering in her eyes spoke volumes.
Emmett gripped Addie’s upper arms. “I’m so sorry. I wish I knew what to say.”
Tears winked in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “There’s nothing you can say. I’ve never encountered such a narrow-minded group of people in my life.” She slipped free of his grasp and balled her hands on her hips. “But if they think I won’t come back, they need to think again.” She shoved the pack at him, whirled on her heel, and stomped off.
Emmett watched her go. He appreciated her determination to return to the hills folks’ homes and try again. But she might never be allowed onto their land if she didn’t find a different place to lodge. With Addie’s satchel on his shoulder, he returned to the library, weighted by concern more than by the books in the pack. He flopped the satchel onto the table, and his stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s suppertime.” He opened the satchel, and the books slid out across the tabletop. He reached to gather them. “I’ll get fed when I’m done with—”
He stared at the table, at the spot next to the burning lamp. That spot hadn’t been empty when he’d left the library. What was missing? Chills attacked his scalp. The story Addie had written was gone.
Addie
FRIDAY EVENING, AFTER A FULL two weeks of being turned away from one cabin after another and not delivering even a single book, Addie needed her mother. She trudged into the post office-telephone office and asked Mr. Landrum if she could use the telephone.
“Twenty-five cents,” he said.
She dug the coin from her pocket and handed it over. Then she eased past the counter to the corner. She took down the earpiece, jiggled the cradle up and down, and waited. An operator’s voice crackled through the line, requesting the number.
Addie recited the number for the Georgetown boardinghouse, then waited.
“Fee boardinghouse.” The woman on the other end sounded aggravated. The same way every person Addie had encountered over the past weeks had sounded. Were it not for Mother’s instruction to treat others the way she wanted to be treated, she might grouse at this unknown person. But she wouldn’t dishonor her dear mother in that way.
“Hello. This is Adelaide Cowherd. May I speak to Fern Cowherd, please?”
“Everybody’s sittin’ at the dinner table right now, young lady. Call back later.”
Panic gripped Addie. “I can’t call later. The telephone office here will close. Please…I’m sure she won’t mind leaving the table.”
No reply came, but a dull thump followed by mutters indicated the person had placed the receiver on a hard surface instead of hanging up.
Addie held the earpiece tight against her head and counted the seconds until—
“Adeladybug?”
Tears filled Addie’s eyes. She leaned against the wall and cradled the earpiece with both hands, wishing she could reach through the line and hug Mother. “Hi, Mama.”
A trickle of affectionate laughter came through the phone. “You sound like my little girl again, calling me Mama.”