The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,95
plenty of time to make it down the mountain. And before we pick up the crates, I’ll treat you to a soda at the drugstore to celebrate this wonderful windfall.”
“Perfect.” She grinned, waved, and bounded out the door.
He gazed after her, plans taking shape in his mind. If he assigned her the task of putting the scrapbooks together, she wouldn’t face another rifle barrel or be subjected to threats. And he wouldn’t have to fire her if she had a viable job to do for the library.
Relief flooded him. He hadn’t wanted to fire someone who tried so hard. The stubborn folks who couldn’t see past the ends of their superstitious noses were to blame for her failure. Didn’t his business professors advise placing people where they could best use their skills? Even though he still believed someone with Addie’s passion for the written word should have the privilege of placing books into needy hands, her excitement about the coming materials told him she’d apply the same enthusiasm and determination to putting the scrapbooks together as she’d shown for delivering books. And she’d be successful with it.
Of course, with her pulled from a route, he’d have to divide all the families between three riders again. He inwardly groaned, imagining the girls’ reactions. They’d sure enjoyed having their workdays trimmed down. But if he didn’t fix this mess, the report the committee in Washington expected every month—which would show how twenty-one families didn’t receive books over a two-week period during his first month of directorship—might mean the end of the program altogether. No program, no wages. The girls would have to understand and be supportive.
A snide snort formed in his throat. Bettina, supportive? He’d better start praying now. Despite these worries, he could go to bed happy about one thing. He wouldn’t have to fire Addie.
Bettina
BETTINA HUNKERED BEHIND the bushes under the open library window. Ooh, that Addie. Getting her rich maw to send a bunch of books so she could make points with Emmett.
When Bettina’d seen Addie skipping across the street from the telephone office straight for the library, she’d come real close to throwing the whole plate of cookies she’d brung for Emmett at her. That girl turned up all the time, like a bad penny. But she was gone now, so Bettina could go in. Still, she stayed put, balancing the plate of cookies on her knees. She’d wait a little longer. Make it seem like she’d only just got there. She couldn’t let Emmett know she’d heard every word. Including taking Addie into Lynch tomorrow so they could get a soda.
A soda! If he was gonna take anybody for a soda, it should oughta be Bettina. Addie knew Emmett’d been spoke for. She should’ve said no. And why was she even still in Boone’s Holler? By now, any sensible girl would’ve packed her bags and gone home.
Bettina’s knees were starting to cramp. She stood real slow, holding the plate steady. She didn’t want even one of these cookies to slide off into the dirt. When she was all the way upright, she wriggled a little bit to shake the wrinkles out of her skirt. She’d put on the blue-checked dress she wore the day Emmett came home. Addie’d still been in her overalls. Bettina’s dress would look like a breath of fresh air compared to them clay-colored overalls.
Real quiet, she slipped around the bushes and onto the street. Then she set her feet hard, giving Emmett good warning that somebody was coming, and walked up to the door.
“Knock, knock!” She made her voice singsong and cheerful. Emmett wouldn’t ever know how much mad burned inside her chest. A shadow fell across her—Emmett in the doorway. She smiled big and held up the plate. “Brung you some fresh-baked oatmeal-raisin cookies. From my maw’s recipe. I recollect how much you liked ’em when you was a little feller. Figured you still might.”
He took the plate and gave her a soft smile that made her knees go wobbly. “Why, thank you, Bettina. That’s real nice of you. I’ll enjoy these.” He turned and walked beyond the doorjamb.
She followed him, swinging her hips so her skirt would sway. He put the plate on the table and sat down. She looked real close at the papers scattered all over the table. Didn’t none of them look like Addie’d been writing on them. She’d spent plenty of hours studying Addie’s writing on the story pages, so she’d know the girl’s hand