Angel of the Cove (11 page)

She'd had men look at her before, but none had ever affected her like Simon did. Not even Paul Sparks, who'd made no secret of his intentions toward her. But she'd never had any interest in Paul other than as a friend. Of course Mama and Robert had wanted her to marry Paul so their two farms would be joined someday, but that hadn't been her plan.

Sighing, she rolled up the sleeves of her dress and began to scrub the dishes left from supper. Hard work would take her mind off Simon and the way her heart fluttered when he smiled at her.

Twenty minutes later, with the dishes put away and her pallet of quilts spread on the floor, she still couldn't drag her thoughts away from the way Simon's dark eyes set her heart to pounding. Groaning, she lay down on the hard floor and wiggled in search of a comfortable position. She thought of her soft bed at home and almost laughed. Six months ago she would never have believed the time would come when she would sleep on the hard floor of a mountain cabin. But here she was, and it felt right. In the next room a new baby she'd helped bring into the world slept in his mother's arms. Nothing would ever compare with that experience.

Her eyelids drooped, and she was about to drift off when a voice next to her startled her awake. “Miss Anna, you asleep?”

Anna sat up and stared at Lucy kneeling beside her. “Lucy, what are you doing out of bed?”

“I cain't sleep.”

“Are you sick?”

Lucy shook her head. “No'm. Sometimes, I jist get scared, and Mama comes and sleeps with me.”

Anna cupped Lucy's chin with her hand and leaned close to her. “Since your mama has the baby in bed with her, she can't sleep with you tonight.”

A soft sob escaped Lucy's mouth. “I know.”

“But I'll tell you what.” Anna scooted over on the pallet. “How about sleeping with me? I'm a little lonely in here by myself.”

Lucy dropped down next to Anna. “You are? Then I'll stay and keep you comp'ny.”

“Good. I can't think of anything I'd like better.” They settled down on the pallet, and Anna drew the cover over both of them. Then she leaned over and kissed Lucy's cheek. “I hope you sleep well.”

A contented sigh drifted from Lucy's mouth. “I like you, Miss Anna. I'm glad you came to our Cove.”

Anna blinked back the tears that sprang unbidden to her eyes. “I am too, Lucy.”

She stretched out on the floor, and for some reason it didn't seem as hard as it had before. Within minutes Lucy's breathing became steady. Anna reached over and tucked the covers around the sleeping child once more.

She lay there in the darkness listening to the sounds of the night. In the distance an owl hooted, and a hound dog's bay drifted on the night air. In the next room the baby cried. Laura's soft whispers floated through the cabin.

Anna closed her eyes and let the sounds wash over her. Next to her Lucy stirred, and Anna smiled at the thought of a birthday cake and Simon's presence at supper. Today had started with a lesson in mountain remedies and ended in the stillness of a remote cabin. Though she was tired, it had been one of the best days of her life.

For the first time she felt as if she was on her way to proving Robert wrong.
Maybe,
she thought as sleep overtook her,
maybe I have the grit to be a nurse after all.

T
he following Tuesday, Simon, a fishing pole in his hand, sat on the bank of Abram's Creek. The weight on his line bobbed up and down in the water as a fish nibbled at the baited hook.

“Come on, little fellow,” Simon coaxed. “Take a bite.”

His brother, John, seated beside him, chuckled. “You think that there fish is gonna listen to you?”

Simon grinned. “Don't know. Just trying to help him make a commitment.”

“Yeah, to end up in the fryin' pan.”

The weight disappeared under the water and Simon jerked the line out of the creek. Giving a whoop, he pulled the fish to shore and grinned at his brother. He unhooked the fish, dropped it in his basket, and peered over the edge of his brother's straw basket. “How many you got?”

John shrugged and cast his line into the water. “About four, I guess. Enough for me and Martha's supper. How many you trying for today?”

“Oh, I don't know. I thought I'd take some by to Granny.”

A quiet breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees for a moment before John chuckled. “Well, I guess that fish done made his commitment to Granny's frying pan.”

Simon joined in the laughter. “Yeah, guess so.”

John scooted back a little from the water's edge and repositioned
his hook in the water. “Speaking of commitment, when you gonna do that?”

The question surprised Simon, and his eyes grew wide. “What're you talking about?”

John wrinkled his brow and stared up at the sky. “Oh, I was just a-thinkin'. There's a few women in the Cove that'd like to put an end to your bachelor days. When you gonna choose one and put 'em out of their misery?”

“I don't know where you get some of your ideas. There aren't any women who have their sights set on me.”

“How about Linda Mae Simmons? She seems real interested.”

A shock rippled through Simon at the mention of Linda Mae, and he sat up straight. “Now, hold on there, John. She's the daughter of one of my deacons. I have never done anything to encourage a relationship with her.”

John snorted. “Simon, you 'bout as dumb 'bout women as you can be. They don't need no encouragement. They just naturally interested in any eligible man. You could do a lot worse than Linda Mae.”

Simon scowled at his brother. “I'm not dumb. I just haven't found the right woman yet.” He reached for the bait jar, pulled a worm out, and threaded it on his hook before he continued. “One thing's for sure, Linda Mae's about the prettiest girl in the Cove—with the exception of Martha, I should say. But I don't know. I don't think I could ever be interested in her.”

John pushed his straw hat back on his head and sighed. “Martha was right, I guess.”

“About what?”

John drew back his hook and cast again. “She said you must have it real bad for that girl over at Granny's. Martha says you're over there all the time, and she feels like she already knows Anna from all you done told her.”

His fingers tightened around the fishing pole at his brother's words. He didn't realize his attraction to Anna was so obvious, but he'd never been able to hide anything from his brother. He pulled the fishing line from the water and pushed himself to his feet. “Martha's wrong.
Anna's only here for the summer. She doesn't have any interest in staying in Cades Cove.”

John's face mirrored the pain squeezing Simon's heart. After a moment, he rose and dropped his pole on the bank. He grasped Simon's shoulder. “I'm sorry, brother. How you making it with that?”

Simon shrugged. “Not much I can do but accept it.” Then he smiled. “Maybe God just intends for me to be alone. There aren't many like your Martha around.”

Or Anna
, he thought as he picked up his catch and walked toward his horse.

“So you enjoyed your two days at the Fergusons?”

Granny shifted in her chair. The shade tree in the backyard provided welcome relief from the afternoon sun beating down on their heads. Anna tilted her head to the side and dropped the hulls of the peas she'd just shelled to the ground. “I don't know if
enjoy
is the right word. Ted and Lucy were a handful. If they weren't fighting with each other, they were dreaming up some joke to play on me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, once they put a frog in the water bucket. And another time they caught a snake and threw it at me when I came out the back door.”

Granny chuckled. “What did you do 'bout it?”

“I guess they didn't know I grew up on a farm and had been around frogs and snakes all my life. I think they were disappointed that their tricks didn't scare me. But I have to say I was glad to see Mr. Ferguson pull up to the house yesterday. Those were the longest two days of my life.” She picked up another handful of peas. “But you know what? I think Ted and Lucy were sad to see me leave.”

“They prob'ly were. But two days ain't long to stay. You're lucky they didn't need you longer. It can git mighty tirin' takin' care of a family.”

Granny's wrinkled face displayed the same serene gentleness Anna had observed since the first day. Not a hint of sorrow or regret lined
her features. Yet Anna didn't think she'd ever heard Granny speak of her family.

“You've spoken of your mother several times but never about a husband or children. I don't mean to pry, but I've wondered if you had a family, Granny?”

Granny's lips pursed for a moment, but her hands never hesitated in the rhythm of stripping the peas from their pods. “I married right young. Me and my husband settled here on this farm. Life was hard, but we had all we needed.” She threw a handful of hulls to the ground. “And we was happy.”

Anna hesitated at the thought of bringing up unpleasant memories. Her heart warned against asking questions that might bring Granny grief, but her tongue itched to speak. “What happened to your husband?”

Granny's hands stilled, and she stared out across the fields. “He took sick one winter. Real bad, he was. 'Course that was 'fore Doc come to the mountains. I done ev'rything I knowed to do, but he jest got worse. Pneumonia—bad thing to happen when you ain't got nothing to treat it with.” She was a silent for a moment. “Anyhow, after he died, me and my daughter jest stayed on here.”

Anna's hands stilled, and she sucked in her breath. “You have a daughter?”

Granny shook her head. “She died in childbirth when she was a little younger than you. The baby died too.” Moisture sparkled in Granny's eyes, and she sniffed. “Deborah was my daughter's name. I picked it out of the Bible 'cause I thought it was the purtiest name I'd ever heard. I don't talk about her much. It hurts too bad.”

Anna reached over and covered Granny's hand with hers. “I'm sorry, Granny. I didn't mean to bring up sad memories for you.”

A sad smile pulled at Granny's mouth. “That's all right, child. I reckon I got some memories that ain't never gonna leave me no matter what I do.”

“Did you ever think about leaving the Cove after you lost your family?”

Granny's gaze drifted to the mountains in the distance. “There
warn't nowhere else for me to go. And besides, this is my home. So I stayed on here, and the good Lord's taken care of me.”

They shelled the peas in silence for a few minutes. It seemed strange that neither Uncle Charles or Simon had mentioned Granny had a daughter who died. Was there more to the story than Granny had told her? One glance at the sadness lining Granny's face told her there had to be. Whatever it was, it brought great pain to Granny, and she wouldn't question her about it again.

There were other things she wanted to know, though, and one of them concerned Simon. She picked up several pea pods and broke one open. “I've wanted to ask you something else, Granny.”

Granny glanced up, but her hands didn't still. “What's that?”

“It's about Simon.” Anna cleared her throat. “It's plain to see he's a very educated man. I wondered why he came back here to preach instead of going somewhere else. Maybe a big city, like Knoxville.”

A wary expression flashed across Granny's face, and she stopped shelling peas. “Has he said somethin' to you?”

Anna straightened and shook her head. “Oh, no. And it's really none of my business. I just wondered, that's all.”

Granny stared off into the distance for a moment before she spoke. “Simon always said he wanted to be a preacher, and his ma was determined for him to go to school. She believed God had great things planned for her boy. So Simon went to Milligan College over to Elizabethton, and he was a-makin' it fine. Until three years ago, that is. We had us a bad epidemic of influenza in the Cove, and Simon's ma and pa both took down with it. John, Simon's brother, wrote him and told him they was sick. Well, Simon, he come a-runnin' home fast as he could, but it didn't do no good. Both of 'em died.”