The Mandie Collection (35 page)

Uncle John stared at the grave with its crude marker. “Mandie, we're going to have a real tombstone put on your father's grave, a granite one,” he said.

Mandie smiled up at her uncle with tears glistening in her eyes. “One with a flower pot attached, so we can keep lots of flowers here?”

“Anything you want, darling. As soon as we can get time we'll go to Asheville and look at some,” he promised. “Now I think we'd better go back and join the others. We have to pass awfully close to your father's house in order to get to Dr. Woodard's.”

“We do?” She looked surprised and then added, “I suppose you do have to go down that road to get to Dr. Woodard's house.”

“Yes,” Uncle John replied. “But I know how much trouble your stepmother has caused. We're going to try to stay out of sight.”

Joe helped Mandie mount her pony. “I haven't forgotten, Mandie,” he said. “I'll get your father's house back for you when we grow up. Remember, I promised I would?”

“Oh, I hope you can, Joe,” the girl answered.

Joe stayed close to Mandie from then on.

In her mind, Mandie relived the day their old horse, Molly, had pulled the wagon bearing her father's coffin up the hill to the cemetery. She also painfully remembered the empty ride back down. Silently, she thanked God for sending Uncle Ned to her. He had promised her father to watch over her and he kept his promise. He always turned up just when she needed him. Mandie wished he could have come with them, but Uncle John had insisted he was not well enough for the rough journey.

“Ps-s-st!” Joe leaned over and pointed. Her father's house was barely visible through the trees. They stopped their ponies and those behind them waited. The men looked back and slowed down.

“Just think,” Mandie sighed, “all my life, I grew up believing that woman living there was my mother. Then my father died, and Uncle John showed me the truth. But I will always wonder why my father didn't tell me,” she said sadly.

Joe's pony snickered and bumped into Mandie's pony, giving it a jolt. Snowball didn't like being jostled around on Mandie's shoulder, and he jumped down.

“Snowball! Come back here!” Mandie called. She slid down from the pony and tried to catch him. Joe quickly dismounted to help. But the kitten wanted to play games. Snowball ran and stopped
until he thought they were going to try to pick him up. Then he ran again, too quick for them to catch him.

Everyone watched silently. Uncle Wirt had warned them that they must not be seen or heard by anyone at the log cabin in the hollow below.

“Snowball, come here!” Mandie tried to coax him. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!”

But Snowball had a mind of his own. He turned to look at her, meowed loudly, and then bounded through the trees toward the house below. Mandie and Joe started after him, but stopped in the shelter of the bushes at the edge of the clearing. The kitten went on.

As they watched from the bushes, they could see and hear someone talking. Moving to get a better view, Mandie's heart beat wildly. Her stepsister, Irene, and her boyfriend, Nimrod, sat on a stump by the side of the house.

“Nimrod, quit holdin' onto me so tight. It hurts,” Irene protested.

“I jest wanna be near you,” Nimrod answered.

Mandie looked around in despair. How would she ever get her kitten back? Snowball was roaming the yard below. Glancing up the hill, she noticed Uncle John motioning for her to come.

“We'll get Polly to go down and get Snowball,” he said. “They've never seen her, so they won't know who she is.”

“Maybe she can slip down there and get him before they see her,” Mandie suggested.

“She can try, and we'll watch from here,” Uncle John said.

Polly gladly consented, and cautiously made her way down the hill into the yard. The two on the stump had not seen the kitten. Snowball was nosing around a flower bed nearby. Polly eased up to him, but when she reached to pick him up, he let out a yowl. She quickly squeezed him in her arms so he couldn't get down. Irene and Nimrod immediately turned around and saw Polly with the kitten.

Irene jumped up. “Who are you? What you doin' here?”

“I just lost my cat,” Polly mumbled as Nimrod towered over her. She turned to go, but Irene grabbed her by her black braid.

“Not so fast. This jest don't sound right to me,” Irene told her.

The group on the hill watched breathlessly. Mandie was about to go down and rescue Polly when a loud yell startled her.

“Irene! Irene, where you at?” Irene's mother called from the back door. “Irene!”

Irene immediately let go of Polly. “Quick, Nimrod! Behind the barn!” she whispered. “Don't let Mama see you! I'll be back out soon as I kin git away from Mama. Wait fer me.” Her mother continued yelling as Irene ran to the house.

Quick as lightning, Polly ran up the hill and disappeared into the trees. She didn't stop running until she reached Mandie and handed her the kitten.

Polly laughed. “Whew! That was a close call!” she said, trying to catch her breath.

Mandie put her arm around her friend. “Thank you, Polly. You don't know how much I appreciate that,” she told her.

“That woman is your stepmother?” Polly asked.

“Yes, and that's her daughter, Irene,” Mandie replied. “I lived in that house with them most of my life.”

The weary group continued on. By the time they passed through Charley Gap and stopped in back of Dr. Woodard's house, the sun had disappeared beyond the mountains. When the doctor and Mrs. Woodard heard the commotion outside, they came into the yard to greet them.

“Light and come in!” Dr. Woodard called.

“Oh, Joe!” Mrs. Woodard cried, “it's so good to have you home.”

Joe gave his mother a hug as his dog, Samantha, and her four puppies excitedly ran rings around him. Mandie had to back away from them and hold her kitten. Snowball didn't like the dogs at all, so Mandie hurried inside.

Dr. Woodard's house was made of logs like the others in the area, but it had two stories. Upstairs, there were four bedrooms,
crammed full of huge beds with headboards that almost reached the ceiling. Mr. and Mrs. Miller, who lived in a cabin down the hill on the Woodards' property, helped out around the house.

Before long, Mrs. Woodard and Mrs. Miller had a delicious supper cooked and on the table. The young people ate as though they hadn't had a bite to eat for a month. Liza was still uncomfortable eating with the others, and offered to clean up the kitchen.

But Mrs. Woodard shooed all of them out.

“No, we don't need any help,” she told them. “You young people just go out on the porch, or make yourselves comfortable somewhere, and rest. I know what you've been through today.”

Mandie wandered outside to sit on the porch steps in the bright moonlight. Liza sat down beside her.

“Lawsy, Missy, if Aunt Lou knowed whut I be doin', sittin' at other people's tables and eatin' and then not even cleanin' up the dishes, she'd wring my neck. I could've at least put the vittles up instead of lollygaggin' around here doin' nothin',” Liza told her.

Sallie and Dimar came out and sat in the porch swing while Tsa'ni walked into the yard to play with the dogs.

“You see, Liza, I told you everybody sits at the same table to eat where I come from,” Mandie said happily.

“Well, that ain't my style, I guess,” Liza replied. “I think dat woman oughta let me do sumpin'.”

Just then, Joe came out the door, overhearing what Liza said. “Liza,” he said, “my mother considers you a guest in our house same as all these other people, and you sure don't go letting guests wash dishes.”

Polly stood at the doorway. “Hey, Joe, how about showing me your horse that you told me about?”

“All right,” he said. “Mandie? Liza? Y'all want to go, too?”

Before Mandie could answer, Uncle John called to her from inside. “Mandie, will you come inside for a minute?”

“Of course, Uncle John,” Mandie answered. “I'll catch up with you later, Joe.”

Mandie glanced at Liza, who made a face. Mandie sighed and then went inside. Joe and Polly were off to the barn. She felt that pang of jealousy again, and wished Liza would go with them.

Inside, Mandie looked around the finely-furnished living room.

Mrs. Woodard motioned toward the settee between her and Uncle John. “Sit down, dear. I won't keep you but a minute,” she said. “I just wanted to give you some information for your mother.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Mandie replied as she sat down by the gentle, attractive woman who looked just a little older than her mother.

Mrs. Woodard handed her some papers. “This is information about the school your mother asked me to look into when I went to Nashville last week.”

Mandie took the papers, noting the bold letters across the top. “Miss Tatum's Finishing School for Young Ladies,” she read aloud. “Why, what is this for?” Her heart fluttered in fear of what it might mean.

“The school, dear, that your mother is thinking about sending you to,” Mrs. Woodard replied.

Mandie sat there in shock.

Mrs. Woodard looked embarrassed. “Did you not know?” she asked.

Mandie shook her head, fighting the tears in her eyes that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “Leave home and all my friends, and go away to a strange school?” she whispered.

Uncle John walked over to Mandie and knelt beside her. “I'm sorry, Mandie. I thought your mother had discussed it with you,” he said. “We've been trying to decide what's the best way for you to get your education since you live with us now.”

Mandie's voice trembled. “Please, Uncle John, don't send me away,” she begged. “I can go to school in Franklin.”

“We talked about that, but they don't seem to teach everything your mother thinks you ought to learn,” he replied.

Mrs. Woodard put her hand on Mandie's shoulder. “This school—Miss Tatum's—is one of the best schools in the southeast,” she said.

“Several of my friends have sent their daughters there. They all liked it, and they seemed to learn all the necessaries.”

Mandie squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard to keep from crying.

“Put the papers with your things, Mandie, and go on back to your friends,” said Uncle John, giving her a little hug. “We'll discuss this with your mother when we get back home.”

“Yes, sir,” was all Mandie could manage to say. She took the papers upstairs and put them in her bag, then rushed back downstairs and out onto the porch.

Liza sat alone on the steps, while Sallie and Dimar talked together on the swing and Tsa'ni played with the dogs. That meant Polly was still with Joe in the barn. But now, the sinking feeling in her stomach made her lose all interest in joining them. She flopped down on the steps beside Liza.

“Better ya git down to dat barn and see whut's goin' on,” the black girl warned her.

Mandie didn't answer. She was fighting tears.

Liza frowned. “Missy, what de matter?” she asked. “You done give up on dat Mister Joe? Dat Miss Sweet Thing might jest be spreadin' some of that syrup on him.”

Mandie tried to smile and took a deep breath.

“I guess they'll be back soon,” Mandie replied.

“Sound like you done wore plumb out,” Liza said. “Ain't got enough fight left in you to do battle.”

“Liza, why did I have to ask Polly to come along anyway?” Mandie fussed.

“Yeh, I'd like to know that m'self,” Liza said.

“She is my friend, but I don't like everything she does,” Mandie complained. “She's such a pest. I wish I hadn't asked her to come.”

But Mandie would soon regret her unkind words.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

POOR POLLY!

At daybreak the next morning, Joe was in the kitchen starting a fire in the big iron cookstove when he was startled by heavy pounding at the back door. Rushing to answer it, he found Morning Star and two braves standing there.

“Ned send message for John Shaw,” one of the men announced.

Joe opened the door wide and asked them to come in. “Sit down. I'll get Mr. Shaw,” Joe told them. He pointed to the chairs by the cookstove.

The heat felt good to the Indians. Even in the summertime the mornings were chilly.

Joe darted upstairs, but met John Shaw coming down. Uncle John had heard the pounding and came to see what was happening. Uncle Wirt and Dr. Woodard were right behind him.

“Morning Star is here with two of Uncle Ned's Indian friends. They have a message for you,” Joe explained.

As John came into the kitchen, one of the Indians rose, pulled an envelope from his belt and handed it to him.

Opening it, John recognized Elizabeth's handwriting. Silently, he read:

I am writing this for Uncle Ned. Uncle Wirt's son, Jessan, has brought him word that the bandits were seen in the woods near Asheville. There are several abandoned huts near Mr. Vanderbilt's property, and they are believed to be hiding out in one of these. Jessan said that someone found
one of the long cloaks the bandits were wearing hidden in a woodpile near there. The braves and Morning Star will give you the exact directions.

Uncle Ned is much better and insists on going out. Please take care of yourself, and Amanda and the others, of course.

I love you. God keep you for me.

Your wife,
Elizabeth

“Look at this,” John said, handing the note to Dr. Woodard. Realizing Uncle Wirt could not read English, he gave him the details.

“Must go at once,” Uncle Wirt said.

Joe sprang into action. “I'll wake the girls and Dimar and Tsa'ni.”

Racing up the stairs, he pounded on the door where the four girls were sleeping. Then he burst into the room where the other boys were.

“Hey, everybody, get up! We gotta go! Uncle Ned knows where the bandits are!” Joe yelled.