Dear Truda,
I’m having a wonderful time. This week I went on a circuit of some of the outlying centers. Confluence, Red Bird, Brutus, Wilder Ridge, Beech Creek. Don’t you love the names? There’s even a creek named Hell-for-Sartin. And one named Hurricane. Not the way we say it, but Hurri-kin. You have to say things the way the mountain people say them or you just know they’re trying not to laugh at you.
But the people are great. I met this cute little six-year-old boy at the hospital. I was told to entertain him for a while, but Billy was the one who entertained me. He had some bad chemical burns where he’d spilled lye on his legs when his mother was making soap. Poor little guy.
I also met someone else at the hospital. Dr. Jack Booker. He says he met you once a long time ago. He remembers you very fondly.
Truda read the name and then read it again before she looked up from Piper’s letter and stared out her front window. Could it really be that young medical student from so long ago? They had had such a brief time together. Only a few hours out of a lifetime. How many years ago now? Over twenty. When she did the math, more like twenty-five.
And yet when she thought of that night, something still went soft inside her. She gave herself a shake. Where she was soft must be in the head to feel that way. She had built that night up until there was no way reality could match what she remembered. A young girl’s foolishness. She wasn’t young now. Into her forties. Sometimes she almost had to do the math to remember how many years she’d added on.
But what had Piper written? That the doctor, this doctor she’d met, remembered Truda fondly? She looked back down at the letter. Very fondly. How did Piper know he remembered Truda fondly? What exactly had he said? And what did he look like now?
She stared at his name while an image rose in her mind. A tall, very slim young man with blue eyes and straw-colored hair that needed a trim. He’d had the faint shadow of a beard and a nose that was a shade crooked. She remembered wondering if he’d broken it when he was a kid. His suit jacket had looked well worn, but in spite of the awkwardness of coming into a party where he knew no one, he’d had an air about him. Not exactly confidence. Rather a sureness of knowing his path in life and what he was meant to do.
Truda wondered what he might remember about her, for she’d felt sure of nothing at the time as she floated along waiting for some man to choose her as a wife. That seemed the only path open to her. But as it turned out, she had not married. Had instead stepped out into a different life. She had few regrets about that, but she did have that niggle of wondering what might have happened if her father hadn’t ordered the young medical student not to write to her.
At the very least, they might have exchanged some interesting letters and then still gone about their lives in the same way. He as a doctor. She as a bookkeeper in an investment bank. He was no doubt married with a houseful of children. But there was that word “fondly.” “Very fondly.”
Truda started reading Piper’s letter again, but she wrote no more about this Dr. Booker. Truda had no trouble imagining Piper’s teasing smile as she’d written those “very fondly” words. She would guess her words would incite Truda’s curiosity. Truda wouldn’t rise to the bait when she wrote back. She’d pretend scant interest with a carefully worded comment. At her age, she wasn’t about to act like a silly debutante. She was long past searching for a husband.
Piper went on about her new friends Suze and Marlie. She said everybody had nicknames and that they were calling her Danny. Truda hoped that didn’t stick as she read the end of the letter.
I want to thank you again for sponsoring me as a courier. It is so nice here. You can’t imagine how lovely the rhododendrons are. Words simply can’t describe how the hills are in bloom. I’m not sure how long they last, but I hope some will still be blooming when you come to the mountains. You are planning to come this summer, aren’t you?
Mrs. Breckinridge said if you came, I could be the one to fetch you in Hazard. There is a bus of sorts that comes from there to Hyden, but I know you’d rather get the full experience of riding in on horseback. You would, wouldn’t you? We can hope it’s not raining. Riding is more pleasant when it’s not raining.
Love you always,
Piper
Truda folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. She tapped the envelope on her chin. Mary Breckinridge had encouraged her to come to Hyden. In hopes of getting a bigger contribution, of course. Truda did have some money set aside for charitable causes.
Erwin might tell her charity began at home and that if she had money to spare, she should help her family. Business was slow for his law firm in the current economic downturn. Spending so much on Piper’s debut hadn’t been the wisest financial decision, although Erwin would think it money well spent if Piper entertained young Crandall’s interest.
But the money was hers, not Erwin’s. She could spend it however she wanted. If that was supporting Mary Breckinridge’s work in the Appalachian Mountains, then so be it.
She’d always heard June was a beautiful month to travel. Something she’d done little of in her life. Always tied to a desk and a mountain of figures. But a mountain of flowers sounded more enticing right now. The truth was, she wasn’t getting any younger and she needed a holiday.
She sat down at her writing desk and pulled out a piece of stationery. She wouldn’t tell Piper she was coming. Not yet. Just that she was considering it. Truda had to make arrangements. A person couldn’t simply throw aside all responsibilities and take off for the mountains. No matter how alluring the idea was.
She would see Wendover. She’d see those rhododendrons and the creeks with the interesting names. She would even ride that horse, though riding was not her favorite thing.
It would be interesting to see how this Dr. Booker had turned out. To find out if he’d married. He’d probably thickened around the middle, as men sometimes did as they got older. He could be bald by now. He wouldn’t look anything like the young man she remembered. She would meet him and they would no longer have a thing in common. Not a thing. Simply saying hello might turn out to be an awkward social nicety.
That Piper. Trying to fire up her curiosity. Truda wasn’t about to admit how well it worked.