Wonderland Creek

  “I understand.” It wasn’t quite true. I was irritated with him. How much time does it take to mail a postcard? But I held my tongue. “Everything is going well with your new band, I assume?”

  Ike grinned and his face beamed brighter than the miner’s hat in the gloomy tunnel. “It’s like I died and went to heaven, Alice. When me and the other fellas in the band play together, it’s like we can read each other’s thoughts. We might be six separate people playing six different instruments, but we make one beautiful sound, and it’s music! Heavenly music! I never felt anything like it before. It’s like we were born to play together.”

  “I’m really happy for you.” And I was. Ike Arnett did not belong in Acorn, working in the coal mines.

  “The pay’s been real good, but I gotta tell you, Alice, I’d do this for nothing. I love playing my fiddle and making people happy. Everyone seems so beaten down here in Acorn, especially these past few years. I don’t think I ever want to come back. But when our band plays, we make everyone happy. You should see them dancing and singing and tapping their toes.” Ike couldn’t stop grinning.

  One of the things I had missed the most about him was his cheerful spontaneity with romantic picnics in the orchard and stolen kisses. The town had been much too quiet without him. “How long will you be home?” I asked.

  “I’m leaving again in a few minutes. I just came home to give my folks some money and to pick up a few things. Then I’ll be gone for another month, maybe more. We have so many offers to play that we’re turning jobs down. It’s like I rubbed a magic lamp and a genie popped out and granted my greatest wish.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I would be sad to see him go. But I was even sadder to realize that I had no idea what I would wish for if a genie offered to grant my greatest wish.

  “I know we said we’d find that treasure, but to tell you the truth, I don’t care about it anymore.”

  When Ike mentioned the treasure, I was tempted to ask him if I could borrow the sampler hanging above his fireplace. I resisted the urge. Not only had I promised to keep Isaac Larkin’s letter a secret, but I still felt guilty for ruining the sampler in Lillie’s room. I wouldn’t ruin another one.

  Ike stood up and took my hands in his. This was it. I would probably never see him again. But instead of kissing me good-bye and walking away, he began to hem and haw, as my grandmother would say, acting very much like a boy who has been caught being naughty.

  “What’s wrong, Ike?”

  “I have a confession to make—something that’s been bothering me. I hope you’ll forgive me when I tell you.”

  “I could never stay mad at you for very long.”

  “Okay . . . Well, remember when I went upstairs looking for Mack’s hunting jacket? The truth is, I was snooping around to see if Mack had found out anything about the treasure. Before he died, he’d said he was looking for it, so I wanted to see what he’d found. The same is true about the day I got rid of that bat for you. I did take care of the bat like I said, but I was also searching through Mack’s things for a map. I made friends with you at first because I thought he might have told you something about it.”

  I pulled my hands away from his. “So our time together was just a lie?”

  “No! Not at all! It might have started out that way, but I fell for you, Alice. I fell hard! That’s why I’m coming clean about the treasure and about snooping in Mack’s room. And that’s why I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I never should have lied to you.”

  I felt a little hurt, a little angry, but mostly sad. “Why are you telling me the truth now?”

  “It’s been eating my conscience, and I don’t want to be punished for my wrongdoings. I want the Good Lord to keep on blessing my music. This band is important to me. It’s what I always wanted my whole life. And it’s my ticket out of the coal mines. I won’t need the treasure now.”

  “You were born to play the fiddle, Ike. Of course I forgive you.”

  He moved closer and rested his hands on my shoulders. “I’d love to ask you to wait right here for me, but that ain’t fair to you. I’d like it even more if you came with me, but that’s no kind of life for you, either—traveling with a road band. I’m guessing you’ll be heading home soon?”

  “Yes. Soon.” I didn’t really know when it would be, and I couldn’t tell him that I was waiting for Mack to return.

  “I hate saying good-bye, Alice. But if the Good Lord wants our paths to cross again . . . well, then, I guess He’ll take care of it.”

  “I guess He will.” God had seemed to manipulate a lot of other events lately, such as giving Feather the colic and having June Ann appear just in time to save Mack and me. What Ike said was probably true. The Good Lord could arrange anything.

  Ike looked down at me with his big, sad, brown eyes and said, “May I kiss you good-bye, for now?”

  I nodded. His kiss was tender and loving—and final. Another good-bye. Ike had treated me kinder than Gordon had when he’d broken up with me, but this parting was sad, just the same. Ike’s love potion had worn off. And so had mine.

  I closed the door behind him and stood in the foyer, trying to figure out exactly how I felt. When I turned around again, there was Lillie, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Is he going away?” she asked.

  “Yes. Which means you were right, Lillie. It’s wearing off, isn’t it?”

  “What is, honey?”

  “The love potion you gave Ike. It’s starting to wear off.”

  Lillie smiled. “Ain’t no such thing as a love potion, except in storybooks.”

  “But you told me that you made some and gave it to Ike.”

  “Why would I give a love potion to Ike?”

  “I don’t know! You wouldn’t tell me why!” I was shouting. Was Lillie becoming senile? Or was this one of her tricks? “You said you gave some to Belle, too, remember?”

  Lillie eyed me as if I were the one who was senile. “Honey, if I knew how to make a love potion, I’d be selling it up in New York City.” She chuckled as she limped away.

  Good thing I had grown to love her, because she infuriated me.

  I saddled up Belle and left on my route, still sad over Ike’s departure and my bruised feelings—even though, if I were honest with myself, I would have to admit that a relationship with Ike never would have worked, any more than a relationship with Gordon would have worked.

  I rode past Mack’s vacant cabin as usual, and I found myself missing him, too. And not just because I had to clean Belle’s hooves and groom her all by myself now that he was gone. Mack and I had become good friends during the weeks I had visited him up here, bringing him food. And our friendship had deepened the night we’d explored the deserted mine tunnel together. I missed talking to him. I missed his quiet strength.

  My first stop of the day was June Ann’s cabin. I was in the habit of stopping to see if she was there, although I usually found her at Maggie’s house, my final stop. Today I was in for a surprise. Not only was June Ann at home, but so was her husband, Wayne. June Ann came running out of the house to tell me the good news before I even had a chance to dismount. She was carrying baby Feather in her arms.

  “Guess who came home last night, Allie—Wayne! And he’s got a pocketful of money that he made working for that Conversation Corpse.”

  I smiled at her mispronunciation of the Conservation Corps. “That’s wonderful, June Ann. Is he going to stay home for a while?” I remembered how brief Ike’s visit had been.

  “He’s staying home with us for good. And he says maybe now we can buy a couple of windows for the cabin.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” And I was. I had rarely seen June Ann so joyful and excited. She was even smiling. Then I thought of my friend Maggie and the effect this might have on her. “Was it hard for Maggie to say good-bye to you and Feather?”

  “Oh, we’re gonna keep on visiting her. Feather and I love it up there.”

  My sad mood over Ike’s departu
re began to lift, and I couldn’t stop smiling as I made my rounds, delivering books and reading stories to the children. But as I approached Maggie’s house, I grew apprehensive. How would she cope without June Ann and the baby? For as long as I’d known her, Maggie had seemed perfectly fine to me until the night she’d tried to shoot Mack again. Now that I knew how fragile she really was, I worried about her.

  She was standing on her front porch when I arrived, leaning against the post, her face serene. “I’ve been waiting for you, Allie,” she said as I dismounted. “I need to ask a favor.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Miss Opal died this morning.”

  “Oh, Maggie! No . . .” I moved into her arms, not sure who was comforting whom. Why did this have to happen now, just when Wayne Larkin had returned home? “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

  “It wasn’t unexpected. Miss Opal was ready to go. And she went peacefully, in her sleep.”

  I pulled away to wipe my tears. Maggie’s face was dry. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. But would you please let everyone in town know? I’ll need help burying her. I would like to hold her funeral tomorrow. She wanted to be buried in the family plot in town, behind the church.”

  “Yes, of course. But I’m worried about you, up here all alone.”

  “You don’t need to be. Let’s go inside, so we can talk. I’ll make tea.”

  Maggie seemed so calm, but I couldn’t help wondering if it was a façade. I remembered her telling me that she had lost her faith, and also that she’d planned to turn the gun on herself and join Hank and Rhoda Lee in the graveyard after killing Mack. With Miss Opal gone, I feared for her life, but I had no idea what to say.

  “I’ll be happy to stay here with you, now that June Ann and Feather have gone home,” I said as Maggie poured the tea.

  “Thank you, but Hank’s brothers will be coming as soon as they hear the news.”

  That didn’t ease my fears. I took a deep breath, praying for the right words. “You told me once how you didn’t think God loved you—and I’d probably question His love, too, if I’d been through everything that you have. But I just want to say . . . you gave up your rich life in Boston because of your love for Hank, and you said it was what people did when they were in love. They made sacrifices for each other. Well, that’s how you can know that Jesus loves you, Maggie. He came a lot farther than from Boston to Kentucky when He came down from heaven to earth. And He gave up so much more—for us. Including His life.”

  Maggie nodded faintly. Her eyes were still dry as she stared into her teacup.

  “You used to love God, Maggie. Please give Him another chance.”

  She nodded again and breathed a sigh. “I’m going home, Allie. To Massachusetts.”

  “For good?”

  “For now, anyway. Maybe I’ll be back, maybe not. I’m going to ask Hank’s brothers to take over the farm.” She looked up at me and her tears finally came. “I need time to heal. I’ve been messed up ever since Hank died. Taking care of Feather made me realize how much I want a family of my own again. Hank would have wanted me to keep on living. He’d be horrified by what I tried to do to Mack, and by how bitter I’ve become. I need some time away from here so I can get over everything.” I reached for her hand and silently took it in my own. “Anyway . . . I suppose you’ll be going home, too, Allie? Now that Mack can take care of Lillie again?”

  She was right. There would be no reason to stay once Mack came home. But I was surprised to discover that I was no longer as desperate to return home as I once had been. “I think I’ll be very sad to leave here,” I told Maggie. “I’ve enjoyed being a packhorse librarian. But you’re right, I will be leaving as soon as Mack returns. He went to Washington to talk to the mining officials about reopening the investigation into Hank’s death. I expect him back any day.”

  “Be sure to let me know when you’re ready to go. I’ll give you a ride to the train station, if I’m still here.”

  “A ride?” I pictured us swaying up the road on the back of Maggie’s mule with my suitcase tied on the animal’s rear end.

  “Yes. A ride in my car.”

  “You have a car? Where is it?”

  “In my barn. Didn’t you know that?” I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head in amazement. Maggie smiled. “How did you think I got into Pottstown to buy supplies and things?”

  I put my hand over my mouth to try to hold back my laughter. It didn’t work. My giggles sputtered out, and I laughed until the tears came. I felt terrible for losing control when Miss Opal lay dead in the next room, but I couldn’t help it.

  “What’s so funny?” Maggie asked.

  “If you had a car all this time, I could have left Acorn months ago!”

  “That’s true, but just think of all that you would have missed.”

  Yes. Just think.

  I was reluctant to leave Maggie, even though she assured me that she would be fine. But I finally hugged her good-bye and rode back to town to tell everyone about Miss Opal. The packhorse ladies returned at the same time that I did, and I told them the sad news. They promised to spread the word to all the other folks in town.

  “What a day!” I said to Miss Lillie as I sank into my chair behind the library desk. “People have been coming and going—Ike Arnett and Wayne Larkin and Miss Opal—and now Maggie will be leaving soon, too. How much more can happen in one day?”

  “When it rains it pours, they say.”

  “How quickly everything can change.”

  No sooner had I spoken the words than I heard the kitchen door open and close. I didn’t even have time to rise from my chair before Mack strode into the room, smiling and out of breath. He dropped his carpetbag on the floor and wrapped Miss Lillie in a tender hug. She was so tiny and he was so tall that Mack seemed to swallow her up. Tears filled my eyes to see them together.

  “Praise the Good Lord! You’re home!” she said, her voice muffled against Mack’s shirt. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the chair in the non-fiction room.

  “Welcome home, Mack,” I said, following them.

  “Thanks. It’s wonderful to be home. The big city is exciting, but I missed the hills and hollows. And I missed you, Lillie.”

  “Tell us about your trip, honey. Did those city people like your book?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am. My editor sure did. Now we just have to wait and see what the publisher thinks.”

  I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Mack, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait to read it. I’ve never met a real live author before.”

  “Have you met any dead ones?” he asked with a grin. “Because technically I’m still dead, you know.”

  “We’re gonna have to fix that real soon, honey,” Lillie said. “Now, what about those mining folks in Washington. Did you talk to them?”

  “Yes, I had a very good meeting with them. I showed them the documents I found and explained what Alice and I discovered at the mine. They promised to send a team out here to inspect the mine as soon as they can arrange it. They’re going to reopen the investigation into Hank’s death.”

  “Let’s hope there’s justice finally for Hank Coots,” I said.

  “Sounds like you got a lot done, honey. We’re so glad you’re back.”

  “There’s one more thing I did while I was away.” Mack left us for a moment to retrieve his carpetbag, then knelt in front of Lillie to rummage through it. “I have a surprise for you, Lillie. There’s a letter in here somewhere I want to show you.”

  “A letter? Who’s it from?”

  “It’s from your blood kin. A descendant of your son, Buster.”

  “My Buster?”

  “One and the same. I asked a friend of mine in Washington to do some research for me, and she was able to find out what happened to him after he was sold away from your plantation before the war. Buster has gone on to heaven now, I’m sorry to say. But this letter is from his grandson. He remembers Buster quite well and wrote this letter to
tell you all about him.”

  “Oh my . . . oh my, I don’t know what to say . . .” It was a good thing Lillie was sitting down because she looked as though she might faint.

  Mack located the letter and pulled it from his satchel with a flourish. “It took a lot of work, but my friend not only found Buster, she found his family. It helped a lot when Alice found that piece of paper telling us that Buster had been sold to a Mr. Drucker in Thornburg, Virginia. My friend in Washington discovered his name on the U.S. Census register and learned that Buster grew up and got married and had five children. This letter is from one of his grandsons.”

  Lillie looked from Mack to me and back again. Tears rolled down her lined face, but I could tell from her expression that they were tears of joy. She couldn’t speak. I knelt beside her chair, too, and put my arm around her tiny shoulder as Mack pulled the letter from the envelope. “You can read the whole thing later, but I especially wanted you to hear this part:

  “ ‘My grandpappy used to tell stories about how he grew up as a slave, and how his Mama Lillie taught him all about Jesus. He was trusting Jesus when the Union soldiers came through and set all the slaves free on his plantation. An army chaplain took a liking to him, so Grandpappy Buster traveled all around with those army folks until the war ended. That’s when he decided he wanted to be a preacher, too, and he kept right on preaching the Gospel until the day he died. Folks would come from miles around just to hear him.’ ”

  Lillie wiped her eyes on her apron. “Well, the Good Lord can take me on home now. I know I’ll see my boy up in heaven. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be that we found each other this side of heaven. Our lives mighta been much different if we’d had our way instead of God having His way.”

  We talked until suppertime, and it would have been wonderful to kill a fattened calf and celebrate this glorious reunion with a banquet. But our food supplies were sparse, as usual, and there wasn’t time to prepare a big meal.