Still House Pond (21 page)

“Wait until I have mine,” Emerald said.

Jack swung his head around to stare at Emerald. When he opened his mouth to speak, Copper tapped his shoulder. He turned his attention back to the baby. “Can I feel of his feet?”

“Sure,” Ruby said.

Jack looked at his mother.

“Gently,” she said.

With one finger Jack stroked the newborn's foot. The tiny toes flared. Jack laughed and did it again.

“That's enough,” Copper said. “Remember, he's not a toy.”

“He sure is wrinkled,” Jack said.

“Thank Mrs. Tierney, Jack.”

“Thank you for sharing your baby with me,” he said. “His feet will probably straighten out one day.”

“You're welcome,” Ruby said. “You come back anytime.”

“All right,” Jack said. “Let me know when he's ready to go fishing.”

As Copper ushered her son from the room, Ruby and Emerald's soft laughter followed. “That's one smart boy,” she heard Emerald say.

Copper couldn't help but be proud of Jack. She had another story to share with John.

When they got back outside, Ernie took Chessie to stable her for the night. Copper walked along with John to the head of the trail that led back to Goose Creek and then on home. Jack sat astride John's horse.

When they reached the trail, John turned and said, “Listen, Manda's gone.”

“What do you mean—gone?”

John handed her a crumpled bit of paper.

Copper smoothed it out and read what Manda had printed. “I don't understand. This is not like Manda.”

John shrugged. “Remy showed this to me when I got back to the house this afternoon, said she found it by the sugar bowl.”

Copper read it again. “Forevermore, what was she thinking?” She touched John's arm. “What should we do about the girls? I never thought to leave them so long with Cara.”

John pulled her into an embrace. “They're fine, sweetheart. I stopped on the way over here, and Cara said let them stay as long as we needed. But you'll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, early afternoon, I'd say, if Ruby continues to do well. What will you and Jack eat? I don't want to make Remy think she has to cook.”

“Remy and Jack had supper on the table when I got home today. Mushrooms and onions over fried potatoes. It was really good, wasn't it, Son?”

“Yup,” Jack said, looking like he was going to nod off.

Copper put her arms around John's waist. “Thank you.”

“For what? I'm just sharing the load.”

“You make my life so easy.”

He bent his head to her.

“You two aren't gonna start kissing, are you?” Jack asked.

“Turn your head,” John said. “I'm going to plant one on your mother.”

“Lift him down, John.”

Jack slid from the saddle and hung suspended between his parents' arms. Copper kissed his cheeks until he squealed, “Uncle. Uncle.”

Saddled up with Jack in front, John waited. “I'll just watch until you get back to the yard.”

Copper walked backward, waving and blowing kisses as far as she could; then she stood and watched her husband and son ride away. Her heart was full. Had a woman ever been more blessed? She thought not.

She thought of Mazy and Molly and was ever so thankful for Cara. She hadn't worried about them all day knowing they would be safe and well cared for in her friend's house. And Jack was with his father, not to mention Remy. Manda was a puzzle. Copper would never have thought she would go off like that. Of course she had seen Lilly to the coach first and she had a right to visit her sister, but something seemed amiss. It would be interesting to get Remy's take on it.

Lilly's train should be nearing Lexington by now. Copper wished she could be with her to witness her excitement. Alice was probably beside herself with anticipation. Selfishly, she still wished she hadn't let Lilly go. She liked tight apron strings—the tighter the strings, the lesser the worry. Well, there was nothing to do about it now but wait and enjoy all Lilly's stories when she returned.

For now she needed to get the newborn to eat and see to Ruby's comfort. In the morning, Ernie was going to fetch a neighbor lady to help out for a few days so Emerald wouldn't feel the need to do any heavy-duty work. Copper would be able to leave when she got there. Everything was in perfect order.

22

A sound like a rasping saw startled Lilly awake, but she kept her eyes tightly closed. She didn't want to see where she was. The sound came in waves, speeding up and slowing down, then speeding up again. She was hungry and very thirsty, and when she rubbed her sore knees, they smarted like Mama had put stinging antiseptic on them.

She could feel something behind her, something like a wall, but it didn't seem like wood. Without turning around, she patted with her hands. It had ridges like a piece of tin. Was she on a roof? No, that didn't make sense. A roof would be under her if she was sitting on it, not all around her. She should have figured that out when the man dumped her here, but she had been too scared to notice anything. She wasn't going to open her eyes and look, though, because that would make it real.

Maybe she could keep from looking, but she couldn't keep from thinking. Kate would say that was Lilly's problem—she thought too much about serious things. Maybe Kate was right.

It had all started when she heard the dog barking. Who could ignore that pitiful sound? Not her. Scenes flashed behind her eyelids like lightning, scaring the wits out of her, until she settled on remembering things as they had happened. It was important to keep everything in order so she could deal with it one thing at a time.

Manda told her to wait on the porch, but she got bored and walked down to the creek. She heard the dog and went to investigate. When she got to the rock wall, she set her valise and the wicker hamper on top and climbed over. She remembered the dog's bark turned to whines and then to crying—if dogs could cry. She decided they could. The cry seemed to come from beyond a garden filled with corn. It was just a short way from the stone fence to the field. She started walking between two rows. The green stalks stood tall and straight with budding ears of corn tickling her face with their silky tassels. She tried to run but it was hard. The rows were too close together.

Something stopped her when she got to the end of the rows. She stood in the shadows of the cornstalks and looked out. A man was at the edge of a pond. A beagle was running around on the bank acting all frantic. It looked like the dog she fed the pieces of biscuit to. The man heaved a gunnysack into the water. It made a big splash. The dog jumped in after it. The man whisked his hands together like that was that and walked away.

Lilly held her breath. When she could no longer see the man, she ventured out of the cornfield. She ran to the edge of the pond. A thick patch of cattails obscured her view. Dragonflies buzzed her head. Watching her step, she parted the cattails. One burst and sent seeds flying around her.

The dog flailed in the water.

“Here, girl,” she said but not too loud. “Come here.”

The beagle paddled over and climbed up onto the shore. Droplets flew everywhere when the dog shook herself. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lilly. They said, “Help me.”

Out in the pond, the bag was sinking. Lilly had a sick feeling about what was inside.

She searched among the fuzzy brown cattails for a stick. When she found a long, narrow piece of driftwood, she waded into the murky water, Daddy John's warning playing in her ears:
“Ponds are dangerous. The muddy bottom will suck you in, and you might not be able to get out.”

She could see what he meant, for it was like walking in cold molasses. Before she'd gone ten steps, one of her new shoes was stuck. She pulled her foot out and continued on, leaving the shoe in the mud. The water lapped at her waist. She leaned as far forward as she dared, jabbing with the stick. She could feel the burlap bundle with the end of the spindly pole, but she couldn't catch hold. She needed to go farther out into the water. Using the stick, she probed the bottom of the pond. If she walked another two feet forward, she'd be in over her head, and she was not a good swimmer.

This called for praying with your eyes wide open. “Heavenly Father,” she prayed aloud, “I'm in an awful fix. I'd be ever so grateful if You'd show me the way out.”

Streaming behind the bag was a length of heavy twine she hadn't noticed before. Gently, gently, gently she used the end of the stick to turn the bag around and snagged the twine where it was coiled around the mouth of the sack. The bag was nearly submerged, but she saw victory coming her way. So close. So close—and then the stick snapped. She could have cried with frustration, but she didn't have time.

“I'm serious, Lord,” she prayed again.

The water splashed behind her. The beagle swam by. Using her stocky legs like sculls, the dog propelled herself through the murky water. She grabbed the sack by her teeth and began swimming toward her.

Lilly reached for the burlap bag and caught it by the twine. The weight of it nearly pulled her under, but she held on and struggled back to the bank.

Kneeling by the bundle, she worked on the tie with her muddy hands. The dog ran circles around her, barking. “Shhh,” she said as the twine came loose. There were four brown and white puppies inside the bag. She lifted them out and put them on the bank in the sunlight. Her heart was grieved.

The mother beagle nosed them all before settling on one. They all looked dead to Lilly, but the mother held out hope. Lilly put her hand where she thought the puppy's heart should be. She could feel a beat. When she touched the others in the same place, their tiny chests were still. Oh, it was so sad.

The one puppy's belly was so full of water, it jiggled. She picked it up by the heels like Mama said she did with just-born babies. She smacked its behind but not very hard. Dirty water gushed out of the puppy's mouth. It made a meager mewling sound. That made her so happy she wanted to dance before she remembered where she was and what she'd seen. She held the puppy close.

“Let's get out of here,” she said to the beagle.

But before she had a chance to turn around, a rough arm grabbed her from behind. It closed around her midsection, nearly cutting off her breath. “You bunch of meddling no-goods,” a man hissed in her ear. “I've had my fill of the lot of you.”

Every time she tried to scream, he tightened his hold until her head was swimmy and her ears popped. It seemed he carried her a good long ways before he climbed a wooden ladder, opened a short but wide door, and tossed her in. She landed on her knees. The puppy plopped from her arms onto the floor with a soft
oof
. She hadn't realized she still held it.

The door closed. Her ears rang, but she could hear the man descend the ladder. The sound gave her some relief. She lay on her side and pulled the puppy close. It curled into her like the twins had when they were babies.

She heard the mother beagle's frenzied howling. The howling stopped on a sharp yelp of pain. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and stuck her fingers in her ears. She didn't want to think about what was happening to the dog.

Even with her fingers in her ears, she could hear the thump of the ladder against the bottom of the doorframe. The door opened with a screech, and the mother beagle sailed across the floor, landing on her feet like a cat.

“Here's ye some company,” the man said. “Cur ain't good for nothing no way.”

The door screeched shut on rusty hinges. Lilly could hear something shoved against the door. “See how you like two or three days up here,” she could hear him say as he descended. “Teach you lot to mind your own business.”

She cried really hard but not very loud, for she didn't want the man to hear her. Who knew if he was still about? All she could think of were those three puppy bodies lying on the bank.

The beagle sat in front of her with her head cocked. She watched Lilly for a while, then came over and licked her tearstained face, like she was sorry to get her in this mess.

Lilly put her arms around the dog's neck. “That's okay. It's not your fault.” She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “At least we saved one baby.”

She lay down again. The mother dog sidled up really close and then sort of fell against her. It almost made Lilly laugh. The puppy nursed. It seemed no worse for wear. Though she never thought she would, Lilly slept.

Now it was hours later. Lilly could tell by the change of light in the room. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell light from dark. She guessed now it was twilight. The waxing, waning, sawing sound shrilled like a thousand locusts caught in a jar.

Locusts! That was all it was. She'd just never heard so many at one time. From the climb up the ladder, she surmised she was in a sort of tree house. That was what made the bugs so loud; they were up in the trees as well.

She was uncomfortable, but try as she might to get her mind off her bladder, it would not be denied. “Oh, bother,” she said and blinked.

She had guessed correctly. The walls of the round room were made of tin. The low roof seemed to be some kind of thatching. Narrow beams crisscrossed the room where a ceiling would be. Lots of stuff hung from the beams by hooks: splayed woven baskets and cracked dried-out harnesses, two chairs without seats, several moth-eaten suits of clothes, assorted pots and pans all with dings and chips, and if that didn't beat all—a chamber pot. With any luck it wouldn't have a rusted-out spot in the bottom. All she had to do was figure out how to get it down.

“What if I lift you up and you unhook it?” she said to the dog.

The dog wagged her tail. She seemed eager to help.

“I was just funning you. That only works if you have thumbs.”

Stacked against the wall were several wooden boxes. Lilly eased the top one down. It wasn't too heavy but it was awkward. She managed to get it to the floor. Lifting it was a different story, so using her legs for leverage, she scooted it until it was just under the necessary. Standing on top of the box, she unhooked the pot. From her vantage point she looked around the room. There was one door and two high-up windows on either side. One window was directly over the boxes. They reminded her of windows built in forts—windows designed to keep arrows out. She guessed that was one thing she didn't need to worry about.