Mary Breckinridge, founder of the Frontier Nursing Service, came out of the log cabin. “Thought you’d be here earlier.”
“So did we,” Mona said, climbing down from the truck. “Heavy rain followed us to Richmond, and we got bottled up around London due to heavy traffic. After Manchester, there was nothing but potholes.”
Mary grinned. “You’re lucky there is a road to Hyden, no matter what shape it’s in.”
“Yes, quite,” Mona said.
“Welcome to my home, Wendover, and headquarters of the Frontier Nursing Service.”
Farley shook hands with Mary. “Beautiful place you have here, Miss Mary.”
“I like to call it home. Come on in. Supper will be ready soon. We’re having venison stew. Very tasty. I’m very fortunate that one of my nurses likes to hunt.”
“I’ll be there in a moment. I need to work the kinks out of my legs,” Farley said, putting Chloe on a leash.
Several hounds of various descriptions came up sniffing at Chloe. She backed away and growled when they approached. Farley pulled on her leash, and Chloe happily followed him looking back at the other dogs occasionally. “Get along with the natives now, Chloe.”
A man dressed in faded overalls emerged from a smaller log cabin and came up to Mary. He gave Mona the once over and seemed unimpressed.
“Noah, gather their bags and bring them into the big house. They’ll be staying the night.”
“Yes, Miss Mary.”
“Noah’s our handyman. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Noah grinned, showing crooked and decaying teeth.
Mona shook his hand and showed him which bags to carry. As he lugged the bags up the hill, Mona whispered to Mary, “That man’s teeth are horrible.”
Mary nodded. “Dental care is the last thing these people see about concerning their health. There are hardly any dentists in the nearby towns. Travel is so difficult, and there is no money to pay for a dentist anyway. The Depression has hit these people very hard. I try to get a dentist from London here twice a year, but he hardly makes a dent there is so much need. These folks wait until they can’t stand it any longer and have one of my nurses or a barber pull a rotten tooth. Mona, I’m afraid you will find the mountains very primitive.”
“I’m used to primitive. I’ve worked in Iraq, remember?”
“Then you will understand these people are standoffish and clannish until they get to know you, but you’ll discover beauty with them, too. They are fine musicians and sing ballads lost long ago in Europe. Musical scholars come by once in a while, wanting to register their songs.”
“I look forward to meeting some of these minstrels.”
“Let’s go in. It’s getting chilly. Rupert Hunt got here last night.”
“I hope he hasn’t been talking your arm off. Rupert can be—exuberant.”
“He’s been regaling me with tales of John Swift.”
“Is our cover story holding up?”
“Only Dr. Hunt knows your real identity. My staff has been told that Lord Farley is Dr. Farley, a biologist from the University of Kentucky and that you are his assistant.”
“I hope no one bothers to check.”
“Why would they? Academic teams come through here every year. Nothing unusual about that. Just keep your scarf on. Your platinum hair and unique eye coloring are a dead giveaway. Everyone has heard of the new heiress of Moon Manor with the white hair and yellow eyes.”
“I hope we haven’t put you to too much trouble.”
“It’s the least I can do. Your charitable contribution to the Frontier Nursing Service was very generous indeed.”
“Do you believe there are lost silver mines, Mary?”
Mary looked concerned. “I don’t know, Mona, but this is what I do know. People say there is more than one of these mines and come looking all the time and some are never seen again. That doesn’t account for the bizarre accidents that happen. There’s a lot of tragedy attached to these mines. The Indians say they are cursed.”
“There are no Indians around here now.”
“The descendants of the Shawnee chiefs Blue Jacket and Cornstalk come every so often looking for the lost Shawnee silver mines. What they can tell you will make your hair stand on end.” Mary looked at the haze rising from the valleys and blanketing the mountains. “Enough of this nonsense. Come on. Dinner will be getting cold.”
Mona followed Mary into Wendover, the headquarters for the Frontier Nursing Service with Farley and Chloe tagging behind.
A lone scream sounded from the woods.
All four people turned. Chloe’s hackles rose and she emitted a low growl.
“What is that?” Mona asked.
“Sounded like a cougar,” Farley said.
“That’s correct, Lord Farley. It’s a panther and not too far away, I reckon by the sound of her. The locals call them ‘paints.’ You both will find there are dangers here that you have not met elsewhere. Keep your guns close and be careful. Be very careful.”
Farley and Chloe followed Mary into the building while Mona stood on the porch watching the mist roll in from the woods. She didn’t like the thick woods. She didn’t trust them. They were not like the wide open spaces of Iraq, where one could see for miles and miles. Yes, she was going to follow Mary’s advice.
She was going to keep her guns close.