Jolene Read online

  “Iffen I didn’ hev t’ pick up thin’s fer Maddie, I swear, I’d tell Cavenel t’ come git his own statchoos an’ headstones,” Matt mumbled, as the mule picked her way along the rutted road. “Whenever Preacher talks ’bout Hell, this’s what I think of. ’Cept with lakes’a fire.”

  “Iffen they’s a Hell on earth, this’s it,” Aunt Jinny agreed sourly. “I promise y’all, Matt, me an’ Anna’ll be quick. We’ll prolly be done afore Josh gits done talkin’ t’ Cavenel.”

  “I’ll jest let y’all down at th’ gen’ral store, then,” Matt replied. “I got some scrip t’be rid of at th’ Company store, an’ they’s a water trough there, so I’ll leave th’ wagon an’ mule hitched there. When y’all’s done, jest bring yer stuff thar an’ come wait with the wagon.”

  The mule actually seemed eager to get to Ducktown now. Possibly it was thirsty; besides being unpleasant to breathe, the air was terribly dry. It picked up its pace to a fast walk, and they were passing between rows of Company houses sooner than Anna had anticipated.

  In Soddy, all the houses had been a soot-stained gray. Here they were all bare wood with little flecks of whitewash, as if the rain had eaten away the paint. But they were just as depressing, because the wood had weathered to a silvery gray not far off in color from the gray of the Company houses in Soddy. The big difference was the lack of soot and smoke.

  She wondered what on earth people burned in their fireplaces and stoves here. You’d have to go miles to get firewood. And unlike in Soddy, what came up out of the Burra Burra mine could not be burned. Another crippling expense then, as if miners didn’t have enough of those already.

  An’ Pa thinks bein’ a miner’s better’n bein’ a farmer! The more she saw of the world, the lower her opinion of her father’s notions got.

  There was a cluster of businesses on a street with a sign that optimistically declared it to be “Main Street.” Anna spotted a barber’s pole and the three balls of a pawn shop before Matt Holcroft pulled up in front of a red-painted building with a fancy sign over the door that announced it as “Clay’s Main Mercantile.” She scrambled out the back of the wagon to join her aunt on the dusty red-dirt street. Matt drove off, and they went inside.

  This was literally the first time Anna had been inside a store of any kind in her entire life, since her Ma had made her wait outside and all she’d ever been able to see was the counter where you paid for things, and where the candies were in their big jars, and the sheer amount of things for sale took her breath away. The walls were lined with shelves all full to bursting, from the floor up to the rafters. There were barrels and bags piled high in every space where they could be piled. There were two counters running the length of the store; the one on the right had canned and bottled and boxed food and the like behind it and piled in pyramids on it, with a big jar of peppermints beside a large brass contraption. The one on the left had everything that wasn’t food behind it, from fabric to chinaware. A balding man with a handlebar mustache and a spotless white apron tended the right-hand counter; a round, brown-haired woman in a brown dress and a similar apron tended the left-hand one. Each of them had a boy, also in a white apron, beside them, and two more boys sat in chairs next to a pile of baskets in front of the right-hand counter. At the rear was a stove—cold—with a cluster of ladderback chairs—half of them occupied with men smoking. Two of the men at the stove were playing checkers on the top of a barrel. Despite the stink of sulfur, the air was still full of interesting scents she couldn’t identify, though they were all pleasant.

  “Mornin’, Jim, Abby,” said Aunt Jinny—and to Anna’s relief, her aunt’s overalls and shirt did not occasion as much as a raised eyebrow. Aunt Jinny put the basket she was carrying down on the counter in front of the man. “Here’s them potions y’all arst fer, Jim.”

  “And glad t’hev ’em, Miz Jinny,” the man said. “Am I a-gonna git back any of what I owes y’all fer the last batch terday?”

  Aunt Jinny laughed. “Reckon so, Jim, but it’ll be Abby doin’ th’ honors. This here’s m’niece, Anna Jones. We aims t’ make her a ‘Sunday best’ with all the gewgaws and frou-frous.”

  While Jim unpacked the basket, Anna’s aunt engaged the services of Abby at the “dry goods” counter. A long and serious discussion ensued over lengths of printed calico and muslin, with several being held up to Anna’s face to see if they “would suit.” Eventually several yards of a soft pink covered in sprigs of white roses were selected, followed by thread, matching white ribbon, pearl buttons, and even, to her astonishment, a white lace collar.

  On’y thangs with lace Ma had were thangs from afore she married Pa . . .

  Then the two older women suddenly went into a whispered conversation over the counter while Abby wrapped up their purchase in brown paper and wrote what they had bought on the outside. As this transpired, they took covert looks at her. She found herself blushing without knowing why.

  “Come along, missy,” Abby said, crooking her finger at Anna, and taking a white pasteboard box from underneath the counter. When Anna looked at her aunt in confusion, Jinny nodded.

  “While y’all are busy, I’ll jest git th’ rest of the shoppin’ done,” Aunt Jinny said blandly, and moved over to the other counter. Obedient to a fault, Anna followed Abby.

  Abby ushered her past the loungers and checker-players and whisked her through a door-curtain, into a kitchen, then up a set of stairs and into what, in Anna’s eyes, was a beautiful bedroom that was the utter acme of luxury and good taste. There was a brass bedstead with no sign of a trundle, braided rugs on the floor, and varnished bureaus and a wardrobe. The bed had a white and pink quilt, white and pink ruffled curtains were at the window, and a white and pink china basin and matching pitcher stood on the varnished washstand. Everything was completely neat and spotless.

  But she quickly lost interest in the contents of the bedroom, because Abby had opened the pasteboard box, revealing—

  —a corset!

  Now, the one thing that Anna had longed for as a sign of being a grown woman—besides proper hairpins—was a corset. Of course, being as they couldn’t afford hairpins, her Ma and Pa certainly had not been able to afford a corset. They couldn’t even afford the fabric sturdy enough to make into a handmade one with goose or turkey quill boning. “Slip off yore thin’s, chile,” ordered Abby as she sorted out the laces. Anna had to slow down her fingers, lest she pop buttons off her waist in her haste to disrobe. Within moments, her skirt and petticoat were in a puddle around her feet, and her shirtwaist was in her hand, leaving her standing there in her drawers and chemise. And she was very glad she had dressed in the best of those that she possessed today. Her underthings might not be new or stylish, or even decorated, but they were clean and neat.

  Abby fitted the garment around her torso and hooked up the front, then went around to her back and began tightening the laces. “I ain’t a-gonna tight-lace y’all now, chile,” she said in an admonishing tone, as if she expected Anna to demand that she pull the laces so tight Anna could not take a breath. “Jest ’nuff fer good support. I don’t hold with tight-lacin’, specially not fer a young gal, or a gal like y’all an’ Jinny, what’s gotter work like a man. Y’all gotter get inter this thang by yerself ev’ mornin’, an’ y’all gotter be able t’move an’ work. This’ll make yore close lie neat, an’ he’p yore back.”

  “Yes’m,” Anna said, flushed with excitement, as she felt the garment close around her like a gentle hand.

  “My land, y’all’s tiny ’nuff,” Abby exclaimed, as she pulled the laces until the two halves of the back met. “This’s the liddlest model we got!” Abby came around to the front and surveyed her with a critical eye. “Aye, thet’ll do, thet’ll do. Y’all c’n jest unhook it in th’ front ter lay it aside an’ sleep, an’ hook it back up in th’ mornin’. Wash it reg’lar, but gentle, jest sponge’t like yore skirt hem. Iffen y’all thank it’s gettin’ shabby, g
ive’t a good scrub an’ bleach but dry it quick. Thar’s jest a liddle steel bonin’ innit, an’ thet’ll rust iffen it don’t dry in a hurry. An’ make a purdy cover fer it; thet’ll make it last twice as long.”

  “Yes’m,” Anna said, making careful mental notes.

  “Don’t be afeered t’ arst yore aunt ’bout dressin’ up. She goes her own way, but she knows how t’tend t’ ladies thangs t’ keep ’em clean an’ make ’em last.” Abby took her shoulders and turned her around in place, then nodded in satisfaction. “Aye, thet’ll do. Y’all c’n put yore thangs on now.”

  Anna put her waist back on, and had no trouble bending over to retrieve her skirt and petticoat. She was tickled to see how much nicer her clothing lay over the corset, and vowed to make a really nice corset cover to save it from getting dirty as Abby had advised. “Y’all look like a proper woman now,” Abby said with approval. “Ain’t nobody gonna mistake y’all fer a liddle gel.”

  Since this was precisely the effect Anna had hoped for, she beamed with pleasure and started to thank Abby Clay. But Abby just picked up the box—which looked to hold several more corsets—and shooed her downstairs and back into the store.

  The loungers and checker-players didn’t even look up from their jawing and game, which was a little disappointing, but only a little. Her aunt smiled wryly—with the sort of expression that said I think yore plumb crazy, but I knowed this was what y’all wanted. And she did want this. She did not for a moment regret wanting it.

  Among other things, Aunt Jinny had ordered flour, in sacks printed with patterns Anna could not imagine Jinny ever wearing—a tiny blue gingham check, and a pink with flower sprigs. There was no doubt the fabric of those sacks was destined for Anna, and she flushed with pleasure at the thought—and then started to worry about the cost. Her aunt hadn’t had much flour in the house, because she clearly preferred to save the money and just eat cornbread. And now there was the material for the dress, and a corset, and a lace collar and all. “Aunt Jinny—!” she began, but her aunt cut her off.

  “Hush. We gotter eat. Reckon I was gittin’ a might weary of cornbread an’ johnnycake all th’ time, an’ with two on us up at th’ cabin, ’tis wuth makin’ bread an’ pie, cause we’ll et it afore it spoils.” Jim Clay nodded wisely as he totted up Jinny’s purchases.

  “Wall, this’s a fust,” he said. “Y’all owe me three dollars, Miz Jinny. I cain’t recall th’ last time y’all owed me.”

  Anna gasped and went pale at the enormous sum, but Jinny just laughed. “With m’niece here t’ he’p with the potions, reckon shoe’ll be on t’other foot agin next time,” she smirked, and pulled a cloth pouch out of her overalls pocket, counting out quarters and fifty-cent pieces.

  Then four of the boys were loaded up with purchases, and the little parade marched out the door and down the street to the establishment marked “Burra Burra Company Store,” where Susie, the mule, was tied up next to a water trough. The boys loaded the wagonbed with the goods and marched back to the mercantile, while Aunt Jinny took another basket out from under the wagon seat, and went into into the Company store. She came right back out again.

  “Matt an’ Josh ain’t there,” she told Anna, “which means they’s prolly still jawin’ with Cavenel, or the like. I’ll mosey over an’ jest put m’ear in the door. Y’all should stay here, keep an eye on th’ wagon. No point in puttin’ temptation in th’ path’a the weak.”

  “Yes’m,” said Anna, who was more than willing to sit on one of the benches in front of the store and watch all the people going by.

  “I’ll be back quick,” her aunt said, with an odd glance up and down the street, as if she was expecting to see something or someone unpleasant. “But iffen someone comes a-botherin’ y’all, don’t be afeared t’ run in th’ store. Thomas Cooper’s a good man, even iffen he do work fer th’ Company, an’ so’s ev’body thet works fer ’im. They won’t let nobody pester y’all.”

  “Yes’m,” Anna replied, wondering what on earth had prompted this pronouncement from her aunt. But she didn’t get a chance to answer, as her aunt went hurrying up the street and turned a corner, out of sight.

  12

  WHATEVER it was that Jinny was worried about, it didn’t materialize while Anna sat there. And if the air hadn’t been so nasty, even with her shields, she’d have been willing to sit there all day and watch the people going by. This wasn’t like sitting on her porch in her raggedy old clothing, looking at the dirt street in front of her Pa’s house, near to invisible as a human being could have been. No, she sat carefully upright, legs crossed at the ankle, hands settled in her lap, and nodded “hello” to people who noticed her and saluted her. It was nice to be noticed. It was even better when they didn’t look at her with expressions that told her they felt sorry for her because she was so sickly, or so raggedy.

  She wondered if Jolene ever came here. She was surely powerful enough to shield herself from any of the effects of the poisons in the earth and air. But there was no good way to find out if they knew about her here in Ducktown—she couldn’t exactly go up to random strangers and ask about her by name. On the one hand, she could easily imagine Jolene strolling down Main Street, taking great pleasure in all the admiring glances (or jealous ones) she’d get simply from being such a beautiful woman. But on the other hand—it was hard to actually predict what she’d take pleasure in, given she didn’t act like anything or anyone Anna had ever met before.

  Not that she actually knew more than a handful of people—so maybe she didn’t have enough experience to—

  And then, as if thoughts of her had called her, along came Jolene, sauntering around the corner Aunt Jinny had gone around, and onto Main Street.

  She was not wearing the strangely patterned dress she had been when she’d given Anna her lesson—nor the extravagant gown Anna had first seen her wearing. This was a simple pale green with darker green gingham pattern, and her apron was the same pale green. She wore what could only be a store-bought hat, since no amount of careful stitching was going to produce that perfectly flat brim and perfectly circular, flat crown, particularly not with handmade straw braid. It was adorned with a dark green satin ribbon band and large, green satin ribbon roses. Her abundant hair had been gathered on the top of her head in a fashionable pompadour style. And she moved as if she was aware that every eye on Main Street was on her, though she gave no outward indication of this. She carried a shopping basket loosely in one hand; it was empty, and seemed more like an excuse, rather than a reason, for being on the street.

  “Mornin’, Miz Jolene,” “Nice day, Miz Jolene,” “How do, Miz Jolene?” Every man on the street seemed determined to salute her, much to the annoyance of every woman they happened to be with, and she acknowledged these salutations with simple nods of the head, rather than in words. And all this was so exactly as Anna had imagined it, that if it were not for the fact that the people of Ducktown very clearly saw her, she’d have suspected she was daydreaming.

  She did that little mental twist that allowed her to see the Glory, but made sure to be very cautious about it, remembering what had happened the last time she’d “looked” at Jolene in that way. It was just as well that she’d exercised that caution, because Jolene blazed up to her inner sight. But this time with a difference. She was surrounded by a shield so strong and so opaque that nothing of “her” was visible behind it.

  Exactly as Anna had speculated.

  Jolene ambled past, a sinuous gait that owed absolutely nothing to any corsetry ever made, and Anna didn’t call out to her. This was partly because she really didn’t want to attract the animosity of every female within earshot, but also because she didn’t want Jolene to ignore her salutation either.

  But just as she came even with where Anna sat, Jolene cast a sidelong glance at her and winked, as if to say, Look at all these ridiculous people! Men acting like puppies eyeing a treat, and women acting like dogs defending
a bone!

  Then before Anna could respond, Jolene glided past and around the next corner and out of sight again.

  Anna almost got up to see what was around that corner that might have some sort of attraction for Jolene, but then she remembered her promise to watch the wagon and its contents, and stayed where she was.

  But she couldn’t help but notice it was becoming uncomfortably hot down here, as the sun climbed closer to noon, where there were no trees, and the bare dirt of the street did nothing but reflect the heat back. She took off her hat to fan herself with, and wished there were someplace to get a drink of water. She was, in fact, giving serious consideration to cupping some water in her hand out of the dubious depths of the horse trough—not to drink, but to splash over her head and neck—when Aunt Jinny and Matt and Josh Holcroft rounded the corner at long last. They all three waved at her, and Matt and his son went into the Company store, while Jinny joined her on the bench.

  Her aunt leaned over as if to offer a confidential thought. “Th’ earth’s nice’n cool deep down. Jest reach on down thar an’ let it pull th’ heat outen y’all.”

  Then she straightened up. She pulled off her own hat and fanned herself with it—but her face wasn’t flushed at all, and there wasn’t even a hint of sweat on it. Anna closed her eyes and tried to do as her aunt had suggested.

  She let her awareness sink down beneath her . . . and her aunt was right! She sensed a coolth, and then found the earth itself pulling all the heat out of her! In fact, she had to cut it off before too long, before she started to shiver!

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, wrapped up in this new application of magic, but when she opened her eyes, Matt and Josh were just coming out of the store with their arms laden with purchases.