Angel of the Cove (2 page)

Anna nodded. “I will.” Her hat slipped to the side, and she reached up and straightened it. “I really can't thank you enough, Uncle Charles.
Everything's coming together just the way I planned it, and nothing—not even Robert—is going to stand in my way.”

Uncle Charles sucked in his breath and directed a frown at her. “Nothing? We can only follow the plan God has for us, Anna.”

She settled back on the seat and cast her eyes over the hazy hills in front of them. “But that
is
God's plan for me.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because it's what I've dreamed about all my life. God's never tried to change my mind.”

“Maybe you've never listened to Him.” Uncle Charles stared at her a moment. “Like I said, pay attention to what Granny says. She'll teach you how God uses those He's chosen to take care of the sick. It isn't all done with medicine, Anna. A lot of my medical successes—and Granny's as well—have come about after a lot of prayer.”

The buggy hit another bump, and Anna bounced straight up. As far as she could see, the rippling Smoky Mountains stretched out toward the horizon. A plume of wispy fog hung over the valleys. A strange world awaited her out there.

Mrs. Johnson, the owner of the inn where they'd stayed in Pigeon Forge last night, had taken great pleasure in warning her of what she might face in Cades Cove this summer. Anna clasped her hands in her lap and glanced at Uncle Charles. “Mrs. Johnson said the folks who live in Cades Cove don't take to strangers.”

Uncle Charles nodded. “That doesn't surprise me. What else did she say?”

Anna took a deep breath and brushed at the new layer of dust on her skirt. “Oh, not much. Just that everybody knows it's a closed society in the Cove, but it doesn't matter because no sensible person would want to live there anyway. She called the people there a strange lot.”

Uncle Charles cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. “Is that right? I hope you didn't believe her. I know every family in the Cove, and some of them are my good friends.” He hesitated a moment. “Of course you're going to find some who cause problems—just like you would anywhere else.”

“Like the moonshiners?”

He turned to stare at her with wide eyes. “What did Mrs. Johnson tell you about moonshiners?”

“She said all the men were moonshiners. Are they?”

Uncle Charles threw back his head and laughed as if he'd just heard the funniest joke of his life. After a few seconds he shook his head. “Nothing could be further from the truth. There may be a few who give the Cove people a bad reputation, but most of the men work too hard to waste their time on such nonsense.” He reached over and patted her hand. “I wouldn't leave you in a place where you weren't safe. Mrs. Johnson may run a good inn, but she's the worst gossip in these mountains.”

Anna heaved a sigh of relief. “I guess I'm just a little nervous. I want everybody to like me.”

“They will. Just be yourself and they'll all love you.”

Uncle Charles meant well, but doubt still lingered in her mind. Would the people of the Cove accept a stranger into their small community? And if they didn't, what good could she possibly do in this place?

She had to succeed. Her future depended on it. She squared her shoulders. There was no turning back.

As the day wore on, they found themselves deeper in the hills. As they did, a slow awakening began to dawn in the deepest corner of her soul. She'd never seen anything as beautiful as the lush growth that covered the vast mountain range. The air now grew cooler, just as she'd expected it to be, and the sweet smell of mountain laurel mingled with the rhododendrons. As her uncle's horse, Toby, plodded along the rocky trail that grew steeper with each step, she saw the world through new eyes and stared in awe at the wonders of nature unfolding before her.

For the last hour she'd sat silent and watched the shallow river that flowed beside the road. The water bubbled over rocks like huge stepping-stones scattered across its bed, and the rippling sound had a lulling effect. She wished they could stop so she could pull off her shoes
and wade in the cold mountain stream, but there was no time for such fun today. She turned her attention back to the steep hillside on the other side of the road.

“It's beautiful here.”

Uncle Charles glanced at her. “We're just about to Wear's Valley. When we get there, we'll be close to Cades Cove.”

Anna wondered if Uncle Charles was tired of her questions about the Cove. She hoped not. She settled in her seat and said, “Tell me more about Cades Cove, Uncle Charles.”

He pushed his hat back on his head and stared straight ahead. “Well, if you've noticed, we've been following that stream as the road's climbed. Pretty soon now we're gonna reach a place where we turn away from it and head into a flat valley right in the middle of the mountains. That's Cades Cove. It's almost like God just took His giant hand and tucked a little piece of heaven right down in the Smokies. The land's fertile—not so many rocks you can't farm—and completely surrounded by mountains. You're gonna love it when you see it, Anna.”

“How many people live there?”

He pursed his lips and squinted into the distance. “I'd say there are about two hundred fifty scattered throughout the Cove nowadays. Some left for town life—better work there, you know—but they'll never find a place that's as beautiful as these mountains.”

“How far is it from Mrs. Lawson's house to where you live?”

He thought for a moment. “It's not that far as the crow flies, but it takes me almost three hours going around these roads.”

A lump formed in her throat. Now that they were closer, she didn't want him to leave. She scooted a little closer to him on the bench of the buggy. “Will you stay at Mrs. Lawson's tonight?”

He shook his head. “No, I'll have enough daylight left to get home. But don't worry, I'll come to the Cove from time to time to check on you. Granny does a good job of taking care of the folks there, but she knows when it's serious enough to send for me.”

Anna clasped her hands in her lap to keep him from seeing them tremble. The time had come to begin the test. She
couldn't
fail. She
squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She dredged up all the determination she could muster. No, she
wouldn't
fail.

“How long before we get there, Uncle Charles?”

“Not much longer. The entrance is up ahead.”

Simon Martin squinted his eyes against the afternoon sun as he tied the reins of his horse to the tree in Granny Lawson's yard. He took off the hat he wore and slapped it across his legs. The dust that billowed up from his pants threatened to choke him. Summer was just beginning and the roads in Cades Cove had already dried, an indication that another hot season lay before them.

He stepped onto the porch of the small house and knocked on the open door. When no one answered, he stepped up closer and peered inside. “Granny, you home?”

For a moment he didn't think she was there, but then he heard a voice coming from the back of the house. He stepped off the porch and hesitated, then smiled. It was Granny's voice, and she was singing. The words drifted on the air like a melody straight from heaven.

He followed the sound. Granny Lawson sat in a straight chair in the shade of the oak tree behind her house, a basket of June apples at her feet. Her forehead wrinkled as she concentrated on peeling the plump apple in her hand. The knife she held made a circular path, and the skin of the fruit dangled below her fingers in one continuous spiral. The words of the hymn the congregation had sung the Sunday before poured from her lips and rang across the yard.

He listened for a moment, watching her. Lines that told of hard work and a difficult life covered the leathery skin of her face. She sat hunched slightly forward, her concentration so focused on the apple that she appeared oblivious to anything else.

Life in the Cove was hard on women. They worked alongside their men, eking out a living in the mountain valley soil and bearing their children. Some buried their babies along the way. He wondered how
many funerals of children he'd conducted since he'd come back to the Cove. His mother had buried two before he and then John were born.

No doubt about it. Life in the Cove was hard. But no matter what happened, the people knew there was one person they could always count on—Granny Lawson. Whenever a need arose, she was there.

His gaze dropped to her strong hands—healing hands, they were often called. There was something about her fingers that always caught his attention. Everyone who shook hands with her was surprised to discover she had the grip of a man. Yet those same hands dispensed tenderness and love to all she came in contact with. No woman in the Cove would think of giving birth without Matilda Lawson at her side.

He remembered his grandmother talking about the first white settlers that came after the Cherokee were forced out of their mountain homes. The most loved and respected among them had been the midwives—the granny women of the Cove, as they came to be called. And now Granny Lawson carried on a tradition that had begun many years before. His heart warmed with love for this woman who'd always been like a second mother to him. He cleared his throat and stepped closer. “Making a pie for supper?”

Startled, she looked up and smiled. The delight that flashed in her eyes made him forget his weary afternoon in the saddle and the disappointment he'd had when he tried to talk to Luke Jackson about his need for God in his life.

“Well, it if ain't the preacher come a-callin' to keep me comp'ny,” she said.

He walked over to where she sat, reached down in the basket, and pulled out a round green apple. He rubbed the smooth skin across his shirtsleeve and looked up at her. “Mind if I help myself to a bite? I've been riding the Cove all afternoon, and I'm getting mighty hungry.”

She motioned toward the house with the hand that held the knife. “Help yourself. Go in the kitchen and git you a chair. Then come set a spell with me. The breeze is nice under this here tree.”

Simon shook his head and sat down on the dirt. “The ground is
fine. Don't have much time. John and Martha are looking for me to stop at their house for supper. Don't want to be late.”

Granny smiled. “How's your brother and that sweet sister-in-law doin'?”

“Fine. Fine. Martha seems to be making it all right.”

Granny dropped the peeled apple into a pan at her feet and reached for another one in the basket. “Reckon I'll be makin' my way over to their farm purty soon now.” She stopped and thought a moment. “Should be in about two months, I'd say.”

Simon nodded. “That's what they tell me.”

Granny hesitated before she started on the next apple. “Simon, when you gonna find a nice girl and settle down like John? You need a good woman.”

He laughed and chewed on the bite in his mouth. “I'm making it fine by myself, Granny.”

A sad expression darkened her eyes. “You kin tell yourself that, but I know better. I see the loneliness in your eyes.” She glanced back down at the apple she held. “What ever happened to that gal you was sweet on when you was in school?”

He shrugged, hoping to look as if he'd put the whole matter behind him. “When I had to leave school because my folks were sick, she turned to a good friend of mine. Well, they're married now, and he pastors a church in Knoxville.”

She reached out and patted his arm. Leave it to Granny to know the hurt was still fresh. “Then she wasn't the one God has for you. I hope you're not still a-pinin' over her.”

“It's not her, Granny. It's just that sometimes I wonder where I would be and what I would be doing if I hadn't come back home.”

Granny pinned him with a steady gaze. “You done what you had to do at the time, Simon, and you cain't keep a-worryin' about it. Things happen in God's own good time.” Her mouth curled into a smile. “That's why I know there's a girl somewhere out there for you.”

Simon leaned over and chucked her under the chin. “Aw, Granny, you know I want a girl just like you. Since you're a little old for me, I guess I'll just have to wait for the next angel to come to the Cove.”