Serendipity (2 page)

This was a new direction in his argument. But Uncle Bo couldn’t pray a groom out of thin air.

“I’ll respectfully disagree in part. Regardless of what life brings, God lets us grow and stretch – but that just means we improve. Some things last forever. Like love. And my roses. Mama and Aunt Maude made sure to pass those legacies down to me.”

Jethro broke in. “You’re making the argument for him, because they’re both gone. So’s your daddy.”

She lifted her chin. “Daddy will live on as long as I thirst for knowledge and enjoy reading. But I’m still blessed with lots of loving ‘uncles’ – and the rest of them will be here soon. Jerlund will show up first – probably in the next minute or two.”

Within a heartbeat, a slightly garbled voice called out, “Maggie?” Upon hearing his distinctive shuffle, Maggie filled a cup halfway with milk. Jerlund had the body of a strapping man, but the mind of a seven-year-old child.

When Maggie flashed a victorious smile at Uncle Bo, he gave her an exasperated look. Still, his voice sounded kind. “C’mon in, Jerlund.”

Helping him shrug out of his coat, Maggie told Jerlund, “You may snitch one cookie. I won’t have you spoiling your supper.”

A couple men bumped shoulders and wedged into the kitchen just behind Jerlund. “Cookies?!”

Maggie giggled softly. “See? Things don’t change. Every last one of our neighbors is going to be here by quarter past the hour.” She shoved corn bread into the oven. “And no one should be surprised. I bake cookies every Monday.”

“Thass why I wan more’n one,” Jerlund pouted. “You got gobs of ’em. And they’re liddle cookies.”

“One or none at all, Jerlund. You need to save room for the stew.”

The door stayed wide open. Men kept coming in, their hats and coats bearing a telltale shimmer. “Colder ’n blue blazes out there!”

Maggie dashed to the window. “Oh! It’s snowing! I thought we’d get sleet, but it’s pure snow.”

As if they hadn’t just come inside, three men crowded by her at the window. One said, “So much snow, Elding is stringing a clothesline for us to follow home.”

“It’s the only time that stinker uses a clothesline!” Uncle Bo shot back.

“He’s not the only one capable of raising a stink,” Maggie gave her uncle a meaningful look.

“What’s that?” Another man stopped shedding his coat and gave her a perplexed look.

“Margaret Titania’s in a dither because I’ve reminded her God’s got a man for her.”

Real trouble loomed whenever Uncle Bo used her middle name. She hadn’t lived among men for all these years without knowing this situation called for a deft mix of humor and gumption. “But you’ll all notice I’m not sashaying to the altar.”

“Weddin’ calls for a groom,” someone concurred.

“Exactly!” Maggie resisted the urge to cheer. Finally someone was going to put an end to all this nonsense.

Paw-Paw chortled. “Once Bo sinks hisself into a notion, a rabid wolverine couldn’t shake him off. Magpie, you need a man to hunt and provide for you, to love you and give you a passel of young’uns.”

A chorus of “Aye,” “So be it,” and “Yep” rumbled the walls of her kitchen, yet Maggie refused to give in. “If that’s God’s plan, He’ll work it out. He created man. If – ”

“Exactly!” Uncle Bo smacked the tabletop. “He’s a-gonna bring your man here, and it’s fitting for me to remind you.”

“Several times a day for a week.” Maggie couldn’t bear it anymore. “After six days of work, even God rested!”

“Told ya; she’s het up!” Jethro leaned back and elbowed his dad. “Ain’t seen anyone this hotheaded since Maude took an axe to Bo’s bagpipes.”

“Aunt Maude? Bagpipes?” Deep chortles and chuckles filled the room, but Maggie gaped at her uncle. Color crept up his neck and turned his ears barn red.

“Wasn’t no secret.” When Maggie continued to lock gazes with him, he muttered, “Just never occurred to me to mention it is all.”

“Then you can tell me what drove a serene woman like Aunt Maude to such action while I darn this sock.”

“He can do that later. Stick to the important subject.” The grizzled man beside the stove inched out of her way. “Last week I told y’all that my Genevieve” – a chorus of “God rest her soul” ran as an undertone while he continued – “has sisters planning to come live in the holler. Us men will have womenfolk to help us out, but you got a future to mind.”

“Stop kickin’ and start listening,” Uncle Bo growled. “You’re of an age to mull over matrimonial considerations.”

At twenty, I’m also of an age to make my own decisions.
Biting back that retort, Maggie let out a slow breath and wrestled with the whole situation. She didn’t want to sound disrespectful
. I’ll always
be their little girl. The only time they treat me like an adult is when I
barter or heal. . . . Aha!

She’d exercise her skills as the region’s barterer and concoct a diplomatic bargain. “You can talk to the Lord all you want about it. If He has designs on me marrying up, He can send that groom on by. God or groom – them I’ll listen to. That’s the best deal you’ll get.”

Everyone agreed – all except Uncle Bo. “Nope. Not me. I got the rest of this sixth day to wedge in important points as they occur to me.”

Maggie tried to look outraged, but she felt the smile tugging at her lips. Keeping face among his friends mattered. Uncle Bo couldn’t just give in, and she reckoned as long as the nagging would end, she could endure a wee bit longer. “Bartering is my profession, but you’re making a counteroffer? I suppose I’ll have to settle for twelve silent men and you exercising discretion for the rest of today.”

“I didn’t say a thing about discretion.”

Maggie brushed a kiss on Uncle Bo’s cheek. “But you’re a man of honor, and I trust you. The rest of today – then you’ll forever hold your peace.” Quickly, before he could add on anything, Maggie sealed the agreement. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Forever?!”

Lifting the lid on the pot and filling the kitchen with fragrant steam, Maggie mused, “Isn’t it a perfect match – how I like cooking and you’re always hungry?”

Anger coiled inside Todd Valmer as the train chugged away, leaving him and Ma behind in an obscure valley in the Arkansas Ozarks. In the middle of a growing snowstorm, too. Between violent gusts of wind, he spotted smoke curling out of a distant cabin.

“Here, Ma. Soon you’ll be warm.” Ma held fast to him, her right arm hooked around his neck and the rest swathed in a blanket. Todd left their valise to sink in the slushy mess and took long strides toward the smoke. With no road to follow, he forged his own path.

Drawing closer, he noted well-traveled trails from various directions converged like stems to branches, as if the house ahead were the trunk that kept everyone rooted here. But Todd’s steps slowed. Surely this couldn’t be the right place. He squinted and scanned all around, finding two other, smaller, cabins. Neither boasted a picket fence, though – and according to the porter on the train, a doctor lived at the only house with a picket fence.

All confidence in this doctor’s capabilities evaporated as Todd stared at the ludicrous array before him.

Someone had hooked or tied washtubs, horseshoes, cookie tins, and whisk brooms to the pickets. More than a few sets of praiseworthy antlers, some plates, and multiple pelts joined them. If that display wasn’t mind-boggling enough, an array of brightly painted whirligigs fluttered madly in the wind all around the eaves in merry mockery of the heavyhearted people who’d walk below them.

Up closer still, a sturdy lean-to shielded contents from the weather – lengths of chain, rope, and a plethora of farming implements. What use would a doctor have for such equipment? None. But what if he’d taken it as payment and by doing so ruined a man’s ability to provide for his family?

I’ve got three bucks to my name. Either he helps Ma or he doesn’t,
but at least she’ll be warm
. Resolve hardening his jaw, Todd started up the stone steps to the porch.

A woman’s voice reached him. “Jerlund, get back here and give Paw-Paw his leg, or I’ll not feed you a lick!”

“We’re right on target, Ma. This has to be the healer’s place if someone inside has a wooden limb.” To his relief, Ma stayed quiet. The icy wind cut across the landscape, whipping at her blanket and hem.

Once he reached the top porch step, a gust of wind sent a stupid whirligig careening toward him. He evaded the wheeling wings and wooden body painted like a magpie, of all things. The realization twisted his lips in a wry smile as he recalled the odd bounty adorning the fence. A sign he’d thought was the doctor’s came into focus. It read MAGPIE’S BARTER, BUY, OR SELL. If ever someone hung a sign that truthfully proclaimed their business, this was it. Magpies collected whatever caught their fancy and cluttered their nests with the madcap mixture.

The sign explained the mess, and perhaps the doctor shared the building. Moaning wind obscured his knock, so Todd opened the door, concerned for his mother’s welfare. He carried Ma in, convinced the door to shut with the sole of his boot, and looked up.

And up. And around. He couldn’t help himself.

No one in their right mind would ever imagine anything as ludicrous as the sight before him. Like a magpie’s nest, shiny, sparkling, odd and appealing things filled this habitation. But the ridiculous birds lived only a short while. Whoever had been nesting here must’ve been adding on to the collection for ages.

Todd’s mouth went dry.
Ma’s done for.

He stood rooted to the floor, stunned by the dizzying array surrounding him. A flash of movement drew his attention. Yanking off her apron, a young woman with coal black hair came into view. She called to someone in the other room, “A caller just let himself in.”

Several men flooded after her. One growled, “Gotta be a Yankee. Southerners got better manners than sneaking in.”

“ ’Course it’s a blue belly.” Another snorted. “No Southerner’s dumb enough to go strollin’ out in this weather.”

Never taking her focus off Todd, the woman tossed her apron onto a spindled chair. “Do you need something, mister?”

“The doctor. For my mother.” Ma didn’t move or make a sound.

An old man stepped in front of the young woman. “Stand back, lass. We got no reason to trust this Yankee. Don’t even know yet what he’s toting there.”

“Women’s boots are sticking out.” Ignoring the order, she approached, pulled back just the corner of the blanket, and gently touched Ma’s face. “Poor soul, she’s chilled to her marrow!”

Honesty wrenched an admission from Todd. “More, too, is wrong.”

Startling bright blue eyes studied him. He met her gaze and silently pled for help.

Two

Snowflakes plastered the stranger’s hair, so Maggie couldn’t be certain of its color. But blue eyes radiated worry, and the set of his square jaw hinted at a determined nature. A sturdy jacket stretched across wide shoulders that weren’t snow-covered – odd, until he hefted the heavy burden he bore. Ahh. That movement knocked away the last remaining flakes. The coat ended at the hips – a workingman’s jacket. Denim work pants wet clear up past the knees tattled he’d waded through snow for a fair distance. The stranger must be miserable as well as cold, but he’d asked only for help for his mother. Aye, and he’d been mindful to stomp the worst from his boots before coming inside.

He showed integrity, telling her something more ailed his mama. Several times in the past someone sought her healing skills and left out the important fact that they or their loved one suffered a contagious ailment. Faster than corn popping in her kettle, thoughts burst in her mind and ricocheted around.

“He put his mama’s needs ahead of all else, and he’s been dead-level honest with me, so I’m gonna help him.”

Air whooshed from his lungs. “God bless you!”

His deep voice held more grit and less lilt – yet beneath the grit she detected a cadence unlike the Scots-Irish rhythm that flowed in all the holler’s men’s voices. The difference intrigued her. She’d like to hear him speak more. His accent – could it be German? Or mayhap Dutch?

“Don’t take ’em in,” Jethro warned. “Betcha what she has is catchy.”

“Since it’s my home, I’ll decide what’s to be done. My guests are chilled.” Maggie slipped past the stranger and opened the door to her spare room. “Bring your mama on in here.”