Thursday, May 25, 1933
Dear Mother,
I promised to write right away when I got to Wendover. I’m keeping my promise, but it may take a while for the letter to make its way back to you. There is a post office here, but they say the mail is often slow. Sometimes still delivered by mule up in the hills. Can you believe that?
I made the trip without problem. Met an interesting woman on the train who told me about the mountains. What she said has me believing the summer here is going to be great although, of course, I’ll miss you and everybody there at home.
You can’t believe how beautiful it is here with the lush green of the trees and wildflowers everywhere you look. The rhododendron will be blooming soon and they promise to be gorgeous.
Father was right about me having to rough it. Wendover doesn’t have electricity yet and I’m not exactly at the Waldorf Hotel. But I have a bed in a room with another courier. Marlie is from Chicago. I’ve met another girl too. Suze all the way from New York City. Compared to them, I’m almost at home. Suze was here last summer so she can show me the ropes.
I’ll be working with the horses. Feeding and watering them and cleaning their stalls. You know that fun shoveling manure. I can see you frowning at that indelicate word. Sorry. I should have said used straw. Suze assures me I’ll get a chance to do a little of everything, maybe even accompany the nurse midwives on calls. Can you imagine me helping a midwife when a baby is born? I can’t either.
I’ll write more soon, but I better blow out the oil lamp and get some sleep. Tomorrow I have to be ready for whatever jobs they give me. Next week I get to go on a round of the outlying centers with Marlie. I have to know where they are in case I need to take something to the nurses there. I hope I can keep the directions straight. We’ll be riding horses and Marlie says it’ll take several days. I do hope I get a more spirited horse than Puddin, the one I rode from Hazard. He was a slow slog in the sand. No sand really, but you know what I mean.
Tell Truda I’ll write her soon.
Love to all,
Piper
Piper folded the letter and stuck it in an envelope. She looked around the small room with the two beds, a small desk, and a bureau she and Marlie shared. The oil lamp barely gave enough light to write by. A bathroom down the hall served for everybody.
Suze said that before they built the Garden House, the couriers slept in what wasn’t much more than a shed with a pitcher and a bowl for washing up. Compared to then, things were easy now, but Piper’s mother would still think they were roughing it.
Even so, sleeping on the side of a mountain without many of the conveniences she’d thought necessities last week was somehow refreshing. A breeze came in the open window and brought a bird’s call.
“What’s that?” Piper asked.
“Whippoorwill.” Suze, who was hanging out in their room, whistled the sound, then grabbed Piper’s hand to pull her toward the door. “Come on outside where you can hear it better. And you have to look at the stars. You’ve never seen stars like you can here.”
Marlie groaned and sat up in her bed to warn Piper. “Don’t let her keep you out there all night. Suze goes all poetic on you about stars and nature.”
“Don’t mind her.” Suze waved her hand at Marlie, but she was smiling. “She thinks the only animal worth seeing is a horse.”
“Horses are why we’re here.” Marlie yawned. “And I was on one of those horses for miles and miles today. Time for me to dream about handsome guys in roadsters. One of them shows up, let me know. I might be ready to share some starlight with him.” With a sigh, she settled back down on her pillow.
The stars were amazing. Since the new moon was not up, the sky was a dark canvas sparkling with a million stars. Maybe two million. The sight took Piper’s breath.
“See.” Beside her, Suze stared up at the sky. “That sight is worth some lost sleep and a crick in your neck.”
Suze was nearly as tall as Piper but built sturdy. That was how Piper’s mother would describe her. She looked ready and able to handle anything that came her way.
Suddenly from out of the woods came a sound almost like a woman screaming. Chills ran down Piper’s back. “What’s that?”
Suze laughed. “Don’t panic. Just a screech owl.”
“Oh.” Piper blew out a breath. “It’s aptly named. How do you know all this? Didn’t you say you were from New York?”
“I was as ignorant to the natural world as you when I came last summer, but a person doesn’t have to stay ignorant. Being ignorant is different than being dumb. Ignorant simply means you haven’t learned it yet. So I listened and asked questions. The mountain people don’t mind questions if asked the right way.”
“What’s the right way?”
“With respect for how they live and for these mountains they call home. While we might think they are backward in ways, they think something the same about us. And they’re right. We wouldn’t have a clue about how to survive on a mountainside with nothing but a gun and a hoe. These people live with nature on their doorsteps and sometimes right through their doors or the cracks between the logs of their houses. But the beauty of the hills is in their souls.”
“That does sound poetic,” Piper said.
“Oh, you can’t pay any attention to Marlie. She’s a sweet kid, but this is just a fun little adventure for her. A little detour in the smooth sailing of her life. She’ll go home and marry that great-looking guy in the roadster, have her three kids. Two sons and a daughter. Join all the socially correct clubs and live happily ever after.” Suze stared up at the stars for a long moment before she went on. “And nothing is wrong with that, but it’s not right for everyone.”
“How is it for you?” Piper kept her eyes on the sky too.
“I like it here. I like feeling as though I’m doing something important. Experiencing life.”
“Don’t you want to get married? Have those three kids of your own?”
Suze didn’t answer for a moment. “Sure. Probably. Maybe.” She looked from the sky to Piper. “Is that what you want?”
Piper continued to stare up at the stars. “Someday. I’m not in any hurry.”
“Someday is good because right now we’re here. And I get the feeling you’re a little like me in wanting to find out more about this place where you’ve landed.”
Piper listened to the whippoorwill a moment before she said, “It sounds lonesome.”
“Maybe he is, and he’s singing to invite a girl bird over. Or he could be letting his sweetie know he’s keeping watch while she sits on their eggs. They don’t make nests. Just lay their eggs on the ground.”
“They don’t get broken?”
“I guess not. At least not all of them or we wouldn’t have whippoorwills.” Suze shrugged. “I’ve never seen one. Birds or eggs. The people around here tell me you have to know what you’re looking for. That’s what it said when I looked up about them too. The birds blend right in with the ground leaves or the low branches where they sleep during the day. You might step right beside one and never see it if it didn’t get scared by your big foot and fly up.”
The bird repeated its call over and over. “It keeps on singing its song.”
“Not a bad thing. To keep on singing. Sometimes we need to do that too.”
“I’m not much of a singer,” Piper said.
“You don’t have to be a great vocalist to sing. I admit it helps those listening if you can carry a tune, but the joy of the song can be in you whether it tickles the ears or not.” Suze sang the last few words. She had a pretty voice. “I like to sing. It’s up to those around me to decide whether to listen or not. And out on the trails, it’s not a bad idea to sing as you ride.”
“Why is that?” Piper looked at Suze. “Does that make the horses calmer?”
“That could be, but mostly it’s an easy way to let the mountain people know you’re out there in their territory. You don’t have to worry about anybody bothering you as long as they know you’re one of Mrs. Breckinridge’s girls, but sneaking up on anybody in the woods isn’t smart, intentional or not. If you don’t want to sing, talk to your horse or to God or to yourself. Whatever, as long as you make a little noise to let whoever is out there know you’re coming.”
“They wouldn’t shoot me, would they?” Piper remembered her mother telling Truda that all mountaineers had guns.
“No.” Suze sounded very sure of that, and Piper breathed a little easier. At least until Suze went on. “Definitely not on purpose. But shot on purpose or by accident can lead to the same unfortunate outcome.”
Singing to keep from getting shot? What kind of place had she come to? Something cold nudged her leg. Piper let out a little shriek.
Suze laughed. “I’ve got you spooked. Sorry about that, but you can relax. That’s just Ginger wanting to make friends. She loves everybody.” She patted the dog’s head.
“Oh.” The dog flapped its tail back and forth to brush against Piper’s leg. Her light-colored fur showed up in the dark. “She just surprised me.” Piper stroked the dog’s back. “Is she a Golden Retriever?”
“I suppose. She looks the part anyway. Miss Aileen—she’s the one in charge of us couriers—she says one of the girls brought Ginger down here a few years ago as a pup. When the girl went home, she left Ginger. Said it wouldn’t be fair to take her back to the city after she’d had a taste of mountain freedom.” Suze knelt down in front of the dog. “Isn’t that right, Ginger? You’re a mountain dog.”
“Is that different than a regular dog?”
“Definitely. Everything is different here in the mountains.” Suze looked up at her. “But you’ll love Ginger. She sleeps in Marlie’s room most nights.” Suze stood up. “That may prove interesting after she has her pups.”
“Pups?” Piper ran her hand along the dog’s side. “Feels like she might be having a bunch.”
“Goldens can have big litters. Nobody’s sure about the father, but there is a male Golden around here too. So maybe we’ll luck out and have a whole slew of Golden puppies. They are such sweet dogs. The nurses love them, although the favorite breed for going along with them on the trails are collie or shepherd mixes. Those dogs are extra smart and will fight rattlesnakes for you, or so some of the nurses have told me.”
“Rattlesnakes?”
Suze laughed again and put an arm around Piper’s waist to turn her back toward the Garden House. “It’s okay. They always rattle to warn you. You’ll be fine. As long as you wear your boots.”
The dog followed them in and curled up beside Piper’s cot. “Rest easy.” Suze kept her voice low, since Marlie was already asleep. “Ginger will protect you from any rattlesnakes that show up.” With a grin, she waved and left.
As Piper settled into bed, her thoughts kept whirling. Everything was so different. Birds singing their name. Owls sounding like women screaming. Singing to keep from sneaking up on anybody. Stars so thick that some places in the sky looked like streaks of glowing silver. A dog by her bed to keep away the snakes. Piper trailed her hand over the side of the bed to touch the dog’s back. Having her there did make Piper feel better. More at home. Welcomed.
That was how she continued to feel the next day as she cleaned the horses’ stalls, picked their hooves, and combed burrs out of their tails. Needed and welcomed when she gathered with the others at the big wooden table in the dining room of Mrs. Breckinridge’s log house.
Marlie said whoever was at Wendover always ate their meals together. “Good food too, whether Mrs. Breckinridge is here at the Big House or not. Sometimes we help in the kitchen if Rayma needs us. That’s the cook. And we always do tea at four in the afternoon when Mrs. Breckinridge is home. I do hope you know how to brew tea. Mrs. Breckinridge is very particular about her tea.”
“I can’t cook, but I can make tea.”
“I can’t cook either, but anybody can peel potatoes and apples or chop up greens. My mother would be amazed to see me in the kitchen. Suze says we sometimes have to cook for the nurse midwives out at the centers. All I have to say is they better have detailed recipes.” She laughed as she opened the door to go inside.
The dining room windows gave a view of the Middle Fork River flowing by at the bottom of the hill. While it wasn’t dark out yet, candles flickered down the middle of the long table where Suze and four others were already seated.
“Sit here, Piper.” Miss Aileen patted the chair beside her, then looked around at the others. “Meet Piper Danson, our new courier. She got here late yesterday from Louisville. Tell us what brought you here.”
“I met Mrs. Breckinridge at a tea my aunt had for her last Sunday. She made being a courier sound like a wonderful experience. So I got on a train and here I am.”
Marlie spoke up. “And she can ride.”
“If you can call poking along on Puddin riding,” Piper said.
“Oh no. You poor thing.” A young woman, obviously another courier, spoke up. She looked at Marlie. “I can’t believe you made her ride Puddin all the way from Hazard.”
“My orders, Nan. Better safe than sorry, and Puddin is our safest horse,” Miss Aileen said. “We’ve had some exaggerate their riding ability.” She gave the girl beside Nan a look. “Right, Jessie?”
Jessie held up her hands. “I got better.” The girl smiled at Piper. “But I will admit that Puddin is my favorite ride.”
Everybody laughed.
“So that’s Nan and Jessie, also couriers, but going home this weekend. We’ll miss them,” Miss Aileen said. “And Nurse Robbins is down at the end.”
The nurse smiled and lifted her hand in greeting.
Miss Aileen went on. “We’re a family here. All of the frontier nurses and couriers. So if you need anything, you can ask any of us.” With the introductions done, she gave Piper a considering look. “So, Piper Danson, shall we call you Pip?”
“I’m not sure I like that.”
Everybody laughed again while Miss Aileen patted her hand. “Nicknames make you belong. So what do the rest of you think?” She looked around the table.
“Pippay. What about that?” The nurse midwife spoke up from the end of the table. She had a strong English accent.
Piper bit back a protest since she had a feeling that would saddle her with the name for sure.
Marlie came to her rescue. “No, Pippay doesn’t sound much like Piper. Danson, hmm. How about Dancer? Piper said she had her debut dance last weekend. So Dancer might fit.”
Piper saw no need in mentioning that she wasn’t much of a dancer. Being nicknamed Dancer didn’t sound bad. Sort of fun.
Miss Aileen frowned slightly as she studied Piper. “Dancer sounds odd.”
“No odder than Pippay.” Marlie defended her choice. “Sorry, Nurse Robbins.”
Suze spoke up. “We could call her Louie since she’s from Louisville.”
“Oh, please.” Piper held up her hands as though to ward off that suggestion. “Pip is sounding better and better.”
“She’s too tall for Pip,” Jessie said. “What about Danny?”
“I like it. Danny, it is.” Miss Aileen hit the table with her hand like a judge pounding his gavel.
Almost in unison, they all said, “Hello, Danny.”
Piper sighed and managed a smile.
Miss Aileen laughed. “It’s not so bad. You don’t have to take the name home with you, but while you’re here you can be a different person. Someone new. You might be surprised at how a name change can open up new vistas for you.”
“I thought just coming here opened up the new vistas.”
“True. The mountains. The people. The animals. All that is new, but what will be the finest new thing is you yourself.” The woman patted her hand again. “Trust me on that.” She paused and looked amused as she added, “Danny.”