“’Bout the only way a body is ever gonna get ahead of the chickweed is to die and go to heaven, where I’m nigh on certain the Lord won’t let in any chickweed seeds.”
Delora Miller knelt down beside the bean row in the garden at Wendover. Piper squatted down across from her to help pick the early beans, but Mrs. Miller said they might as well get rid of any weeds while they were at it.
“You ever pick beans before, Danny?”
“Can’t say that I have.” That seemed a bad thing to admit here in the mountains where everybody had gardens, or sass patches as they called them.
“That’s city life for you.” The woman took off her straw hat and fanned herself.
Her gray hair was tucked into a bun on the back of her head, and she wore a green-checked apron over a cotton dress so faded the flowery print had lost its color. But it looked cool.
Piper was ready to chop off her jeans at the knees, but Miss Aileen wouldn’t go for that. The couriers had to dress right. Jeans for dirty work in the barn and gardens or chicken yard. Riding trousers, boots, and white shirts when they went to Hyden or out into the districts.
Piper stood up and stretched her back before she bent over to rustle through the bean leaves for more pods. “Have you always grown your own food, Mrs. Miller?”
“We’d have gone hungry if we didn’t. That’s for sure. Most folks around here depend on sass patches. That’s why things can get lean when the rains don’t come.” Mrs. Miller put her hat back on and watched Piper pick a handful of beans. “Careful with the vines there. This is the first picking, but it won’t be the last.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Miller had shown her how to hold the vine and pull off the bean pod. The leaves made her arms itch, but that wasn’t worth complaining about. No need in fussing about the heat either.
“I hoped starting early we’d get done before the sun started cooking us. It’s a hot one for June.” Mrs. Miller pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and wiped the sweat off her forehead. “But the weather is whatever the good Lord sends our way.” She looked up at the sky. “And I’m thinking he might be sending us a storm later, with how the air is feeling. That will get the nurses busy. Babies like coming on in a storm.”
“Why is that?” Piper asked.
“It don’t really matter why. It’s good just to know what is. Full moons bring them on too, but with that said, the Lord’s truth is that babies are born every day of the year with or without storms or full moons.” She bent down to start picking again.
“Do you have children?”
“Lawsy, yes. Eight of them. Don’t think a one of them came in a storm, but seems like little Robert showed up on a moonlit night.”
“Did the nurses deliver your babies?”
“They all was born way before Mrs. Breckinridge came to these parts. Now, some of my grandbabies have found their way into the world with the help of her nurses. A granny midwife was my help. That’s all we had back in the day. Granny Em caught my babies, every one without a lick of trouble.”
She dropped some beans in her basket before she went on. “But it’s better with the nurses. Whilst I was healthy and so were my babies, that’s not so for everybody up here in the hills. The nurses’ way of watching over mothers is a good thing. Hardly ever hear of them losing a baby unless’n it’s something that couldn’t be helped. The Lord’s will.”
Piper wasn’t supposed to talk religion, politics, or moonshine with the local people. Mrs. Breckinridge’s orders. But ever since she talked to Maxine Crutcher on the train, questions about what Piper truly believed poked her now and again.
She’d gone to chapel at the Big House on Sundays, but a person could quietly listen to Scripture and bend one’s head in prayer without letting anything change inside. She did say her prayers every night when she wasn’t too tired, but had she ever considered the Lord’s will in her life? Was it his will that she be here in the mountains beside this woman who knew what to weed out and what to let grow? Would it be too wrong to ask her how she knew what was the Lord’s will and what wasn’t?
“You look to be puzzling something out, Danny,” Mrs. Miller said. “Are you wishing you was back in your city with somebody else picking the beans for your plate?”
“Oh no. I’m glad to be here. Picking beans or whatever.”
Mrs. Miller eyed Piper a minute. “But I’m thinking you have something worrying you. Questions don’t bother me. Just so you know.”
Piper kept her gaze on the beans. “When you mentioned the Lord’s will a while ago, that made me wonder how to know what is the Lord’s will and what isn’t. I know Mrs. Breckinridge doesn’t want us talking religion, but—”
Mrs. Miller waved her hand. “Don’t let that worry you, girl. You maybe shouldn’t be talking with everybody about such things, but you can me. Not that I’m a preacher what can explain it all. But I do believe in the good Lord and that his will ought to be done.”
“But how do you know if you’re doing what the Lord intends?”
“There’s a verse somewhere in Proverbs that tells us to trust in the Lord and not lean on our own understanding.” Mrs. Miller reached across the beans to touch Piper’s cheek. Her hand was work roughened, but her words were gentle. “That does take some trusting. Sort of like stepping out on a swinging bridge. You done that yet?”
“I have.”
“Well, maybe when you first looked at it, you wondered about it holding you up on account of how it was trembling there in the wind. But then you stepped out on it and found it did hold you up. That can be how faith in the Lord is. You might feel a little trembly when you take that first step of trusting your ways to him, but once you do, you can always depend on that firm foundation of the Lord’s love. Way firmer than that swinging bridge to be sure.” Mrs. Miller smiled. “Fact is, it’s not impossible to fall through one of those bridges, so see that you step lightly and hold tightly.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Something about being here has me wondering about things I’ve never thought about before.”
“It’s the stars.”
“The stars?”
“You look up at the heavens here in the mountains, and the stars spill out across the sky. Somehow that makes you ponder things that go deeper than whether we get to eat these beans come dinnertime.” She picked up her basket and moved it a little farther down the row. “But one thing for sure, we won’t be eating them if we don’t get them picked.”
They were almost to the end of the row when Miss Aileen walked over from the Garden House.
Mrs. Miller looked up at the sun. “It’s a mite early for lunchtime. She must have something for you to do. She keeps you girls hopping.”
“We’re here to help,” Piper said.
“I do appreciate your help this day. I fancy talking to you girls and getting to know what you’re about.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure what I’m about,” Piper said.
That made Mrs. Miller laugh. She had a good laugh, the kind that made Piper ready to join in. “You’ll figure it out, Danny girl. Just remember that first step on the bridge of faith.”
Miss Aileen was close enough to hear her last words. “You haven’t been preaching to Danny, have you, Delora?”
“Now, Aileen, a granny like me can’t keep from talking a little faith now and again.” Mrs. Miller swept her arm around to take in the garden and the flowers blooming on the hillside. “Takes a powerful lot of faith to grow what we grow here on this hillside.”
“You do have a green thumb,” Miss Aileen said. “I hear Mrs. Breckinridge is bringing home a rosebush from Illinois.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Miller said. “Then I’ll think on where it might have the best chance of blooming and get a hole dug.”
Miss Aileen looked around. “I wouldn’t mind digging my fingers down in some dirt myself.”
“Then why don’t you?” Mrs. Miller said.
“Too much to do back in the office.” Miss Aileen sighed. “Papers to fill out. Letters to write. Books to balance.”
“Sounds like a right smart chore. This one here did good at bean picking, but she’d probably be a fine hand at letter writing too. Right, Danny?” Mrs. Miller smiled over at Piper.
“I can write letters.” Piper thought of the letter she’d finally written to Braxton. A “how are you? I’m fine” boring missive. Then there was that letter to Jamie she probably shouldn’t have mailed. But mailed it she had. One pal to another.
“Another time maybe, but right now, I’ve got something else for you to do,” Miss Aileen said. “Dr. Jack called from the hospital. Seems there’s a patient they want you to take home. Can’t for the life of me figure out why he asked for you, but he did. And what Dr. Jack asks, we try to do.”
“That’s great. It must mean Billy is getting to go home.”
“Billy?” Miss Aileen raised her eyebrows in question.
“This little boy over at the hospital. He got in his head it would be neat to show up back at his house on a frontier nurse horse.” When Miss Aileen frowned, Piper rushed on. “I told him I probably wouldn’t be around when he was ready to go home. So he wouldn’t count on it.”
Every time Piper was at the hospital, she took Billy a treat. Some candy or a book. Maybe that had encouraged him to continue to hope she’d be there to take him home.
“Well, perhaps you should have been clearer.”
“He’s just six,” Piper said.
“Looks like Danny’s got a feller.” Mrs. Miller smiled. “No need to be cranky about it, Aileen. Think how happy the little feller is going to be, and Dr. Jack too.”
“Foolishness, but I guess you’re right, Delora.” Miss Aileen looked at Piper. “You’ll have to change and grab a bite to eat in the kitchen.”
As they started away from the garden, Mrs. Miller called after them. “You take care, Danny, if that storm comes up.”
Miss Aileen looked up. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, Delora.”
“That may be, but my knees are aching. I’m thinking a storm could be coming.” Mrs. Miller headed toward the Big House with the beans. She called back over her shoulder. “My rheumatism never lies, so you be careful, girl.”
Miss Aileen watched the other woman walk away. “I hate to admit it, but Delora is generally right about the weather. So pick a gentle horse to go on. Don’t want you getting thrown with a little boy riding with you.”
“Which horse, then?” Piper asked.
“How do I know?” Miss Aileen sounded exasperated. “You couriers handle the horses. You should know, or ask Kermit if he’s out at the barn. He knows them all. Of course there’s Puddin, but I guess he’s still nursing that leg.”
“Yes.” Piper was relieved she wouldn’t have to creep up into the hills on Puddin. She’d never get Billy home, wherever home was.
“I don’t know what Dr. Jack is thinking, asking this.” Miss Aileen made a face. “But I don’t suppose it will hurt anything. Since you’re going up that way, you can take some supplies to Wilder Ridge Center. Just spend the night there but come on back tomorrow. Mrs. Breckinridge is bringing a visitor and she wants you to show whoever it is around.” Miss Aileen gave Piper another look. “You must be the popular girl right now.”
“I guess,” Piper said. “Where do I get the supplies for Wilder Ridge?”
“Nurse Thompson will have them ready.” Miss Aileen made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now, go. Don’t keep Dr. Jack waiting.”