a little girl again. To curl in her mother’s lap and be rocked and sung to. She forced a strangled laugh from her dry throat. “I miss you.”
“Your daddy and I miss you, too, honey. He’s standing right here if you want to say hello.”
Addie’s heart turned a little cartwheel. “Oh, I do!”
Muffled whispers, unintelligible, met her ear, and then, “Hey, sugar dumplin’.”
A smile automatically pulled on her lips. “Hi, Daddy. How are you?”
“I’m doing fine. How are you? Mother says you sound a little sad.”
“I guess I’m homesick. Missing everybody. And…” She’d intended to tell her parents about her difficult weeks, but was it fair to dump her problems on them when they had their own burdens to bear? She cleared her throat. “I wanted to hear your voice.”
Daddy’s soft chuckle, so comforting in its delivery, soothed Addie’s bruised heart. “It’s good to hear yours, too, honey. But I’m sorry you’re feeling sad. Maybe this news’ll cheer you up a little bit.”
Addie jolted. “Did you find a job?”
“I did. At Kennedy’s marble and granite company.”
Addie cringed. Kennedy’s made headstones. A necessary item, certainly, but so unpleasant to consider needing one. “Are you their bookkeeper?”
“No, I’ll be sweeping up in the workshop.”
She almost dropped the earpiece. “Sweeping up? You mean you’ll be a…a janitor?”
“Is there something wrong with being a janitor?”
“Well, no, of course not. Janitors are important. But, Daddy, you’re…”
“I’m…what?”
She gulped. “Old.”
His laughter rang in her ear.
Addie hung her head.
“Honey, I’m grateful to Mr. Kennedy for hiring me when he could have hired a younger, stronger man.”
She knew she should be thankful. Daddy was drawing a wage. With both of them saving up money, her parents would be able to leave Fee’s boardinghouse in no time at all. That is, if she didn’t lose this job due to her ineptitude. But more than anything else, sadness weighted her. She bit the inside of her lip, imagining her gentle daddy, who’d never done physical labor, cleaning up after younger workers who might make sport of him. “Are you sure it won’t be too hard for you?”
“I managed the first two days without a wrinkle. I work seven to ten every night after the stone masons have gone on home, so I’m not in their way.”
Addie found a small blessing in his words. At least the others wouldn’t be able to poke fun at him if he was too slow or had trouble scooping up the chipped remnants of stone. “I’ll keep praying for an office job for you. I know you’d be happier with a pen than a broom in your hand.”
“I won’t argue with you there. Now, I’m going to give you to your mother. She’s standing here, all wiggly and impatient.”
Fern Cowherd was never wiggly and impatient, but the thought made Addie smile. “Bye, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you, sugar dumplin’.”
A brief pause, then Mother’s voice came on again. “All right, Addie, tell me all about delivering books. I want to know every detail.”
“Oh, Mama…” All thoughts of withholding her heartaches whisked away like a flower petal tossed on a breeze. She told her mother about being ordered from properties, threatened with guns and dogs, and flayed with ugly words. “They treat me like I carry the plague. All because I lodge with Nanny Fay.”
“The feelings against the woman are that strong?”
Addie sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
“But why?”
“For ridiculous reasons, really. It has to do with the person she married over fifty years ago and the herbal medicine cures she learned from her husband’s Cherokee grandmother.”
“What?”
Addie nodded at Mother’s aghast tone. “Rather senseless, isn’t it? Emmett told me I might have a better chance of being accepted by the community if I find someplace else to lodge. He even offered me the little room at the back of the library, where he’s staying. He said he’d move into his folks’ cabin again. But—”
“Who’s Emmett?”
Addie inwardly groaned. She hadn’t told her parents about Miss West’s departure and Emmett’s taking over the director’s position. She offered a quick explanation. “He’s doing a fine job with the library side of things, but I think he’s having some trouble with…er…” How could she define his seeming inability to mold the four female riders into a cooperative team? Were it not for Bettina, he might find success, but the girl seemed bent on stirring conflict. “Human relations.”
A soft grunt sounded from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Mr. Landrum sat with his back to her, but his head was