that you’re here, you simply can’t up and leave. Y’hear?” She bowed her head, paused, and looked up again. “Besides, I pretended this day would never come. But now…I truly must start packing. I could use your help, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Mind?” Aunt Millie said, as if waving away a pesky mosquito. “That’s what friends are for!”
Dorothy Ann peered up from under her dark bangs. “On top of everything, Gran-mammy is ninety-three years old, y’all, and feeling poorly.”
“Speaking of Gran-mammy,” Miss Pearl said, “I’ll see if she’s ready for some dinner.”
Dorothy Ann jumped up from her chair. “I’ll go.” She filled a plate with food, then headed toward the sewing room.
“That girl loves her gran-mammy,” Miss Pearl said softly. “I love to sew like Gran-mammy, but those two are peas in a pod. Gran-mammy taught Dorothy Ann everything she knows about tending sheep, carding and dyeing wool, and spinning.”
“I have experience helping elderly folks,” Kit said. Back in Cincinnati, she’d helped Miss Mundis, her Uncle Hendrick’s next-door neighbor, when she fell and needed extra care. And she continued to help Uncle Hendrick at his big house, even though he was the grumpiest person in the whole world. “I’m happy to help with Gran-mammy if I can.”
“Thank you, Kit,” Miss Pearl said with a warm glance. “We appreciate that kindly.” She exhaled deeply before going on. “Right now I think the best medicine for us is some music. JJ, before Charlie returns to Maple Springs, will you play us a few tunes?”
JJ turned to his mother with a nod. “Yes, ma’am.” But as he stood, eyes gray as storm clouds, he shot Charlie a glance.
Kit recognized that look. It was the same one she’d seen earlier in the day when she’d waved to people from the truck. No one had waved back. Their faces were grim, like tombstones etched with two words: Go away!
Kit speared the last bit of ham on her plate and chewed it without tasting it. She couldn’t blame JJ or anyone else for not wanting to leave their home. But it wasn’t Charlie’s fault that this area had been chosen for a national park. No matter how angry people might be, it wasn’t right to take out their feelings on the CCC workers, especially not on someone as good-hearted and hardworking as her brother!
…
While Aunt Millie and Miss Pearl washed the dishes, Kit carried a cup of chamomile tea to the sewing room for Gran-mammy.
“Oh, thank you,” Dorothy Ann said, rising from the chair beside the twin bed. “Gran-mammy, we have a visitor, Kit Kittredge. She’s the niece of Mammy’s old friend Mildred. They’re visiting for a spell. Look, Kit brought you a cup of tea.”
Gran-mammy’s pale green eyes were surrounded by dark circles. “Well, aren’t you a dear,” she said. “Where did you come from?”
“Cincinnati,” Kit said, quickly adding, “ma’am.”
“Here, Gran-mammy. Let me help you sit up,” Dorothy Ann said, scooting an extra pillow behind her grandmother.
From the living room came bright, rapid fiddling. “That’s my grandson JJ,” Gran-mammy said. “Comes from a long line of fiddlers, y’know.”
Kit nodded politely.
“He’s awful good with that fiddle. Just like Dorothy Ann with the wheel. She spins fleece into the loveliest yarn you ever did see.”
Dorothy Ann’s fair cheeks reddened. “I’m still learning,” she admitted. She lifted the cup of tea to her grandmother’s dry lips. “Here, Gran-mammy. Try a little? You need to get your strength back.”
But Gran-mammy snorted and shooed the cup away. She pushed back white strands of hair on her nearly bald head. “Just leave it. Now you girls skedaddle. I’m fine.”
Dorothy Ann set the cup down on the side table. “All right. Dinner?”
“No, thanks,” Gran-mammy said. “Maybe later.” Her thin eyelids closed.
Kit followed Dorothy Ann across the foyer and toward the lively music in the living room. Just before entering, Dorothy Ann leaned into Kit. “Leaving here is hardest on Gran-mammy,” she whispered. “She took to bed the day the letter arrived. She’s been getting weaker ever since. Breaks my heart.”
Kit whispered back, “I’m so sorry.” It was all she could think to say.
In the living room, Dorothy Ann sat at her spinning wheel and pumped the treadle until it began to spin. Kit perched on a footstool and watched as Dorothy Ann took a fluff of wool from a basket and stretched and twisted it into a strand of yarn on the wheel. Kit had never thought before about where yarn came from. Wool from sheep turned into yarn…yarn knitted into sweaters, hats, gloves, mittens, and scarves. Kit tried to picture Gran-mammy as a young girl spinning yarn. Now her granddaughter carried on her tradition.
Kit glanced at Charlie and shared a smile. Sitting on the sofa, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, clearly enjoying JJ’s music.
Commanding everyone’s attention, JJ stood fiddling beside the stone hearth, tapping out a beat with the toe of his boot. His sour mood seemed gone. With his instrument tucked under his chin, he moved his left hand up and down the frets as his right hand held the bow, flying over the strings. He played song after song, the music growing louder and faster until, with a flourish of his bow, he stopped.
Mr. Henry started clapping and everyone joined in. JJ bowed to his audience, his bow and fiddle extending like wings behind him.
After a moment, Charlie stood. “I guess I’d better be going so I return Joe’s truck on time.” He thanked the Thatchers for their hospitality and headed for the front door.
“Will I see you soon?” Kit asked.
“You can count on it,” Charlie assured her.
When bedtime came, Kit was grateful to put on her familiar nightgown. She was more tired than she realized. What a long day it had been! She settled her head on the pillow beside Aunt Millie, who dropped quickly into sleep.
Kit lay awake, eyes open. A crescent moon rose and sent pale light into the bedroom. Kit suddenly missed Mother and Dad; her best friend, Ruthie; and her sweet dog, Grace, who often slept at the foot of Kit’s bed. When Grace pressed her warm body against Kit’s feet, sleep always came easily.
Time suddenly stretched like the long, endless steel rails she and Aunt Millie had traveled. Nine more days until they headed home? She swallowed hard, determined not to cry.
Her feelings didn’t make any sense. She’d been so excited about this trip, about seeing Charlie, and the possibility of visiting a real cave. She loved spending time with Aunt Millie, and it had all sounded like such an adventure. But now Kit felt as if she didn’t belong. She felt caught between two worlds: the one her brother was here to help build and the one—full of family farms like the Thatchers’—that was destined to be torn down.
She wished there was some way the Thatchers could stay on their farm.
Kit drew a deep, long breath. Then, like a quickly deflating balloon, she exhaled
