Fire Along the Sky Page 151


“No.” The girl shook her head so hard that her plaits jumped. Next to her Martha had begun to weep too, but silently.

“Well, then I'll go on my own,” Curiosity said in her gentlest voice. “Don't matter none, child. Not a bit.”

“I'll go with you,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Would that be a comfort to you, Callie, if I went to see your father too?”

The girl drew in a long, shaky breath and closed her eyes. By the time she opened them again her expression had calmed, and she nodded.

Then Simon reached over and put a hand on the back of the girl's head. She started at first and then leaned into his cupped palm.

Simon said, “It's right tae weep for her, lass. You must never be ashamed tae weep for your mither. I still weep for mine, betimes.”

“Now that's a pure truth,” said Black Abe, smiling kindly.

Lily was close to tears too and so she closed her eyes, just for the moment, and still she saw the two girls.

Callie was just now realizing that tomorrow she would have to stand next to her father while the coffins were lowered into a muddy hole: her mother, and Cookie Fiddler, a woman she had known and loved all her life. Tomorrow she would go to those new graves and her father would be there, most likely with his new wife, or maybe she would come uninvited and there would be hard words said. It was months since Dolly Wilde had died, but to these young girls it must seem fresh every day.

As young as they were they had borne up under sorrow and loss and all the meanness of spirit the village could think to dole out, and they had done that without complaint for these many weeks. While Lily was worrying about getting the best of Simon Ballentyne, they were watching the weather and counting the days until graves must be dug.

Lily said, “Martha, Callie, if you girls don't have any other chores this afternoon, I could use your help at the meetinghouse, mixing up pigments.”

Callie blinked at her, blinked hard to see through tears.

Martha cleared her throat to say, “May we, Curiosity?”

The old woman picked up a bowl that needed filling and got up from the bench. On her way past Lily she paused and, leaning down, put a noisy kiss on the top of her head.

“Of course you may,” she said to Martha. “Cain't think of a blessed thing to keep you busy otherwise. Unless you can, Sally? Lucy?”

“No, ma'am,” said Sally solemnly. “Nothing I can think of.”

“I was planning on going over to see my ma,” Lucy said. “I promised to warp the loom for her.”

“Elizabeth? These girls got studying to do that can't wait?”

Lily's mother had a smile she didn't use very much, a smile that started with her mouth but shone out of her eyes too; a smile that said words couldn't describe just how pleased she was. Over the years Lily had tried to draw her mother when she smiled like that, but she had never quite been able to catch it on paper. Right now she thought she might be able to, if she were to get up from the table while it was fresh in her mind.

But that would mean walking away, and she couldn't do that, just now. Somehow she had managed to do just the right thing; she had pleased her mother and Curiosity and all the people who had had cause to be disappointed in her. She wanted to hold on to that for the time being.

Black Abe said, “You look like your ma just now, Miz Elizabeth. I never knowed anybody who could smile quite like her, but she passed it on to you.”

“Lily smiles like that too, sometimes,” said Simon. His voice was a little hoarse, but his gaze was even and kind and filled with understanding and something else, something like pride. “I've seen it.”

“You a fortunate man, Mr. Ballentyne,” said Black Abe with a wink to Lily. “Fortunate indeed.”

Later, on their way to the orchard house, Curiosity stopped in the middle of the path and bent over, her arms crossed against her belly. At first Elizabeth thought she was weeping, overcome by the sad scene at the dinner table; Elizabeth might have started too, but then she caught sight of Curiosity's face: she was laughing so hard that she was convulsed with it.

“What?” Elizabeth said, alarmed and irritated too. “What is it?”

Curiosity pulled a kerchief from her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face and chuckled. “I was just remembering that rose stink, and the look on Simon's face when he come to table. I thought I'd just about bust, keeping a straight face.”

Elizabeth heard herself giggle. “And then Lily. Do you think she threw the pot at him?”

“Oh, ayuh,” Curiosity said, her mouth twitching. Then she started to laugh again. “The man got a great bruise coming up between the eyes.”

“She always had good aim,” Elizabeth offered, and then they were both laughing so that their shoulders shook.

“But they made up,” Curiosity said finally, hiccupping softly. “Somehow or another. He got her to come to table. I never thought I'd see the man who could deal with our Lily when she got to feeling stubborn, but it look like Simon got the knack. He can talk to her.”

“If he said anything at all,” Elizabeth said.

Curiosity straightened suddenly and shot her an amused glance. “You sounding more like Missy Parker every day, girl. I'm surprised at you.”

Elizabeth put her knuckles on her hips and shook her head. “Oh, no. Not you too. Nathaniel said the same thing to me, this morning. But I don't understand, I really don't. They are two responsible adults, and I asked them to act accordingly. How is that unreasonable?”

Prev Next