she’d pay dearly.
Praying with all of her might, she brushed past the wide-eyed conductor before he could speak the warning his upraised finger foretold. Nash would be outside waiting for the train to leave. He just had to be.
Eyes sweeping the outer rim of the crowd, she lifted the hem of her garment and helped herself down to the platform. Miraculously, Nash sat atop the wagon right where she’d left him, his expressive brows drawn to the middle of his forehead. Her heart in her throat, Emmy dashed over and clambered up beside him.
He blinked in surprise. “Miss Emmy, what you doing out here? You gon’ miss your train.”
She clenched her fists under her chin, wincing from the pain of pierced palms against the crush of leather. “I can’t go with them, Nash. I simply can’t. Please go ask Mama if I can stay here with you.”
He slumped on the seat, his voice pitched to a whine. “You know I cain’t do no such thing. Your mama’s mind is set, not to mention Mr. Willem’s. For all your pleadin’, you ain’t managed to sway ’em none. How you reckon they gon’ listen to the likes of me?” He jabbed his finger behind her as if Papa stood there. “Mr. Willem had just as soon fire me on the spot—or worse—if I was to pull off a fool stunt like that.” His head swung side to side. “No, chil’. You got to stop asking me for what ain’t in my power to give.”
Quivering inside, Emmy twined her fingers behind her neck and leaned her head back. “I’m desperate, Nash. I can’t see how I’m going to survive a whole month under Papa’s thumb.”
Nash tugged on her arm until she let go and straightened to face him. His eyes softened to brown puddles of compassion, and he patted her hand. “The good Lord gon’ see you through, that’s how.”
She groaned and fell against the seat. “Very comforting, Nash. Yet another crushing thumb I can’t seem to avoid.”
The tender pools in his eyes dried up and hardened to flint. “Why you want to say something like that for? Jus’ cause you grew up with a stern papa don’t mean you got to see God in the same light.”
She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Mama’s shrill voice turned the words to ash in the back of her throat. “Emily! Get down this instant and come with me.”
Emmy was off the rig and standing beside her mama without remembering how she came to be there.
None too gently, Mama took her by the arm. “I don’t know what you two are playing at, but just be glad you haven’t missed that train. While you’re at it, count your blessings I was able to talk your father into letting me come for you instead of him.”
Truth dawned, churning Emmy’s insides. Her impulsive act did nothing toward improving the situation. Instead, the threat of a difficult trip had become an impending nightmare. With a last desperate glance at Nash, and with the conductor’s final call to board ringing in her ears, Emmy allowed Mama to herd her onto the platform.
There was no hiding. She would step onto the train, face her papa, and reap what she’d sown in her haste.
CHAPTER 7
Isi pushed back his plate and stood. “Thank you, Mother. Muy
bueno,
as usual.”
Heart swelling, Melatha beamed. “I’m happy you liked it.” She left her own eggs and
frijoles
and rushed to the woodstove where tortillas warmed in a plate. Lifting two of the steaming rounds of corn, she spread mashed beans in a circle. With a square of braided rags, she hoisted the lid from her cast iron roasting pan and tore off chunks of crisp, golden hen, rolling them up in the slathered bread.
“Wait, son. You have a long day ahead. Let me wrap these for you to take with you.”
Frowning, he hooked his thumbs in the top of his trousers. “You really think I need that?” He chuckled and tugged on his waistband. “I’ve just eaten enough for two grown men. Thanks to your good cooking, I’m about out of notches in my belt.”
She tucked the cloth-wrapped bundle into his
Praying with all of her might, she brushed past the wide-eyed conductor before he could speak the warning his upraised finger foretold. Nash would be outside waiting for the train to leave. He just had to be.
Eyes sweeping the outer rim of the crowd, she lifted the hem of her garment and helped herself down to the platform. Miraculously, Nash sat atop the wagon right where she’d left him, his expressive brows drawn to the middle of his forehead. Her heart in her throat, Emmy dashed over and clambered up beside him.
He blinked in surprise. “Miss Emmy, what you doing out here? You gon’ miss your train.”
She clenched her fists under her chin, wincing from the pain of pierced palms against the crush of leather. “I can’t go with them, Nash. I simply can’t. Please go ask Mama if I can stay here with you.”
He slumped on the seat, his voice pitched to a whine. “You know I cain’t do no such thing. Your mama’s mind is set, not to mention Mr. Willem’s. For all your pleadin’, you ain’t managed to sway ’em none. How you reckon they gon’ listen to the likes of me?” He jabbed his finger behind her as if Papa stood there. “Mr. Willem had just as soon fire me on the spot—or worse—if I was to pull off a fool stunt like that.” His head swung side to side. “No, chil’. You got to stop asking me for what ain’t in my power to give.”
Quivering inside, Emmy twined her fingers behind her neck and leaned her head back. “I’m desperate, Nash. I can’t see how I’m going to survive a whole month under Papa’s thumb.”
Nash tugged on her arm until she let go and straightened to face him. His eyes softened to brown puddles of compassion, and he patted her hand. “The good Lord gon’ see you through, that’s how.”
She groaned and fell against the seat. “Very comforting, Nash. Yet another crushing thumb I can’t seem to avoid.”
The tender pools in his eyes dried up and hardened to flint. “Why you want to say something like that for? Jus’ cause you grew up with a stern papa don’t mean you got to see God in the same light.”
She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Mama’s shrill voice turned the words to ash in the back of her throat. “Emily! Get down this instant and come with me.”
Emmy was off the rig and standing beside her mama without remembering how she came to be there.
None too gently, Mama took her by the arm. “I don’t know what you two are playing at, but just be glad you haven’t missed that train. While you’re at it, count your blessings I was able to talk your father into letting me come for you instead of him.”
Truth dawned, churning Emmy’s insides. Her impulsive act did nothing toward improving the situation. Instead, the threat of a difficult trip had become an impending nightmare. With a last desperate glance at Nash, and with the conductor’s final call to board ringing in her ears, Emmy allowed Mama to herd her onto the platform.
There was no hiding. She would step onto the train, face her papa, and reap what she’d sown in her haste.
CHAPTER 7
Isi pushed back his plate and stood. “Thank you, Mother. Muy
bueno,
as usual.”
Heart swelling, Melatha beamed. “I’m happy you liked it.” She left her own eggs and
frijoles
and rushed to the woodstove where tortillas warmed in a plate. Lifting two of the steaming rounds of corn, she spread mashed beans in a circle. With a square of braided rags, she hoisted the lid from her cast iron roasting pan and tore off chunks of crisp, golden hen, rolling them up in the slathered bread.
“Wait, son. You have a long day ahead. Let me wrap these for you to take with you.”
Frowning, he hooked his thumbs in the top of his trousers. “You really think I need that?” He chuckled and tugged on his waistband. “I’ve just eaten enough for two grown men. Thanks to your good cooking, I’m about out of notches in my belt.”
She tucked the cloth-wrapped bundle into his
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