What Momma Left Behind by Cindy K. Sproles

Author:Cindy K. Sproles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical;Historical Fiction;Appalachian Mountains—Rural conditions—19th Century—Fiction;FIC042030;FIC014000
ISBN: 9781493423279
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2020-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

They wasn’t a lot said as we worked our way around the mountain toward Hartsboro. It was plain to Pastor Jess I wasn’t in no mood to jaw. They was a lot to take in. A lot to put together. I patted my bag to be sure the jar was there. They was no doubt Momma’s Bible was there. It weighed as much as a small stuffed turkey. But them was the two things I needed to hold tight to.

We rode the better part of the day before we stopped. The horses was hot and the river had hit a quiet, shallow spot. Pastor Jess climbed out of his saddle and extended his hand, but Trigger grabbed me by the waist and slid me off Sally. I know I ain’t always the sharpest nail in the pouch, but it was becomin clearer and clearer there was an unspoken gentlemanly feud goin on. Trigger took Sally by the harness, and I pulled his hand down and took hold myself.

“I got her.” I’d done pulled my shoes off and stepped in the icy Indian River. Water wasn’t no deeper than my ankles, so me and Sally meandered across the river. They is nothin better than wadin in the river. It’s one of them things that freezes your toes but calms your mind.

A school of minners splashed past my toes, and just upstream you could see trout leapin the rapids.

“Worie, you hungry?” Pastor Jess shouted across the river. “Miss Bess give me some cured ham.”

I remembered the biscuits she slipped into Sally’s bag, so the two of us sloshed back across the water.

“Bess give me biscuits. Oughta make a good dinner with your ham.” I dropped the reins over a tree branch and flipped open my saddlebag. Bess had outdone herself. Biscuits and a small wrapped bowl of jelly. “Boys, we have a feast.” I smiled as I sat on a stump between the two men.

“Good Father. Bless this food.”

The pastor caught me mid-bite. I nearly choked, tryin to swallow my bite fast enough to bow my head.

“I ask, heavenly Father, for your hand of protection over us. Give us direction so we do what is right in savin them children. Bless this food to our body and give goodness to the hands that made it. In the Lord’s name. Amen.”

The men work their way through that cured ham like a squirrel gnawin on a walnut. “Good?” I asked. They grinned, jaws stuffed full.

I took a few bites, then wrapped the towel around my biscuit. My stomach turned at the thoughts of Momma’s lie. Justice could call it a secret, but to me, it was still a lie.

It was hard to imagine Calvin anything other than my elder brother, but knowin what I did started to make a few things add up. Nothin over this jar, but things when we was kids. Like Calvin’s hair so blond it was nearly white. And his skin pale. My skin, and Justice’s too, was a brown. Me and Justice could play together when we was youngins, but Calvin shied away.

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