lightly, clucking her tongue to get the horse moving again. “I thought you were going to teach me how to drive?”
Aunt Ida took the reins. “Not yet,” she said. “When you start working at the store, you can walk and Percy will bring you home, along with any items on my list. I need this wagon at my disposal at all times. I never know when I might need to run into town.”
When they reached the Company Store, Aunt Ida stopped the wagon on the edge of the dusty road, then waited for Emma to tie the horse to a hitching post. When she had finished, Emma helped her aunt down from the seat and followed her along the plank sidewalk toward the entrance. Two women came out of the store, talking and laughing. The younger one carried a wicker basket covered in a red-checkered cloth, and the older woman held a brown paper package beneath one arm. There was no mistaking they were mother and daughter, with matching upturned noses and rainwater blue eyes. The daughter wore her blond hair in long ringlets that spilled over her shoulders like a yellow mane. The mother wore her mouse-colored hair in a Gibson girl bun, gray streaks running up from her temples and the middle of her forehead. They both wore pastel-colored dresses, the mother in baby blue, the daughter in lavender.
“Good evening,” Aunt Ida said.
The women began to respond, then gaped at Emma as if noticing her for the first time. They looked her up and down as if a girl with an open collar and bare forearms were someone to fear. After a short, awkward silence, they came to their senses and said hello.
“Emma,” Aunt Ida said, smiling a little too hard. “You remember Sally and Charlotte Gable, don’t you? Sally is a dear, dear friend of mine from way back. Her husband, Grover, is the inside boss over at the mine. And pretty Miss Charlotte was one of Percy’s childhood playmates.”
Emma didn’t remember either of them. The last time she was here, she was only ten, and back then the only thing she cared about was when her parents were coming back to get her and Albert. Not to mention the fact that most of my memories are buried beneath the horrible specter of my brother’s death, she thought. But nothing good would come from contradicting her aunt. “Nice to see you again,” she said, extending her hand.
Charlotte took a step back, and Sally gripped her package tighter, her face going dark. They stared at Emma’s bare, outstretched hand as if it were a poisonous snake.
“Oh,” Sally said. “You’re the one who . . .”
Emma withdrew her hand. So it was true. The whole town was talking about her.
“You know,” Charlotte said. She leaned toward her mother and lowered her voice. “There was another accident up in the breaker yesterday.”
“Oh my,” Aunt Ida said, anxiously fingering her cameo brooch. “I heard. Isn’t it the most dreadful thing?”
“Ripped a boy’s arm and leg clean off,” Charlotte whispered. “Bled to death before anyone could get help.”
Emma’s stomach turned over. What was a boy doing inside the breaker? Is that what Aunt Ida meant when she said the breaker boys? She opened her mouth to ask, but Sally interrupted.
“Hush, Charlotte,” Sally said, a flash of warning in her eyes. She looked at Emma, her face a mask of feigned pity. “We’re terribly sorry about your parents. What a horrible way to—”
“I think the breaker accident happened at the same time Emma’s train pulled into the station,” Charlotte interrupted.
“Enough!” Sally snapped. “You’re tempting fate by talking like that!”
Emma bit down on her tongue. Are they blaming me for the boy’s death?
“That’s nonsense,” Aunt Ida said, chuckling nervously. “It was a coincidence, nothing more. My niece has had a streak of bad luck, that’s all. But now that she’s here with us, I finally have the chance to lead her down the right path. Everything is going to be fine from here on out. Isn’t that right, Emma?”
So this
Aunt Ida took the reins. “Not yet,” she said. “When you start working at the store, you can walk and Percy will bring you home, along with any items on my list. I need this wagon at my disposal at all times. I never know when I might need to run into town.”
When they reached the Company Store, Aunt Ida stopped the wagon on the edge of the dusty road, then waited for Emma to tie the horse to a hitching post. When she had finished, Emma helped her aunt down from the seat and followed her along the plank sidewalk toward the entrance. Two women came out of the store, talking and laughing. The younger one carried a wicker basket covered in a red-checkered cloth, and the older woman held a brown paper package beneath one arm. There was no mistaking they were mother and daughter, with matching upturned noses and rainwater blue eyes. The daughter wore her blond hair in long ringlets that spilled over her shoulders like a yellow mane. The mother wore her mouse-colored hair in a Gibson girl bun, gray streaks running up from her temples and the middle of her forehead. They both wore pastel-colored dresses, the mother in baby blue, the daughter in lavender.
“Good evening,” Aunt Ida said.
The women began to respond, then gaped at Emma as if noticing her for the first time. They looked her up and down as if a girl with an open collar and bare forearms were someone to fear. After a short, awkward silence, they came to their senses and said hello.
“Emma,” Aunt Ida said, smiling a little too hard. “You remember Sally and Charlotte Gable, don’t you? Sally is a dear, dear friend of mine from way back. Her husband, Grover, is the inside boss over at the mine. And pretty Miss Charlotte was one of Percy’s childhood playmates.”
Emma didn’t remember either of them. The last time she was here, she was only ten, and back then the only thing she cared about was when her parents were coming back to get her and Albert. Not to mention the fact that most of my memories are buried beneath the horrible specter of my brother’s death, she thought. But nothing good would come from contradicting her aunt. “Nice to see you again,” she said, extending her hand.
Charlotte took a step back, and Sally gripped her package tighter, her face going dark. They stared at Emma’s bare, outstretched hand as if it were a poisonous snake.
“Oh,” Sally said. “You’re the one who . . .”
Emma withdrew her hand. So it was true. The whole town was talking about her.
“You know,” Charlotte said. She leaned toward her mother and lowered her voice. “There was another accident up in the breaker yesterday.”
“Oh my,” Aunt Ida said, anxiously fingering her cameo brooch. “I heard. Isn’t it the most dreadful thing?”
“Ripped a boy’s arm and leg clean off,” Charlotte whispered. “Bled to death before anyone could get help.”
Emma’s stomach turned over. What was a boy doing inside the breaker? Is that what Aunt Ida meant when she said the breaker boys? She opened her mouth to ask, but Sally interrupted.
“Hush, Charlotte,” Sally said, a flash of warning in her eyes. She looked at Emma, her face a mask of feigned pity. “We’re terribly sorry about your parents. What a horrible way to—”
“I think the breaker accident happened at the same time Emma’s train pulled into the station,” Charlotte interrupted.
“Enough!” Sally snapped. “You’re tempting fate by talking like that!”
Emma bit down on her tongue. Are they blaming me for the boy’s death?
“That’s nonsense,” Aunt Ida said, chuckling nervously. “It was a coincidence, nothing more. My niece has had a streak of bad luck, that’s all. But now that she’s here with us, I finally have the chance to lead her down the right path. Everything is going to be fine from here on out. Isn’t that right, Emma?”
So this
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