“Let’s go, Pearl. I still need to find my boot, and it’s coming on bad weather and dark soon.”
Three
I’d lost Junia.
Though I’d found my other boot that fell from the mountain path, when I slid off the ol’ girl to put it on, Junia lit back off toward the east—Thousandsticks and Mama—without a warning, taking my other packed boot with her. It seemed I was destined to have no more than one shoe at a time today, and inwardly, I cursed my foolishness.
I dropped my boot and chased after her, my curses hoarse and strangling, my calves tight and burning. If something happened to that mule, Mama would never forgive me. I wouldn’t neither. Junia was ornery, but she was also my protector and childhood pet, a legend in these parts. When I was seven, I’d been playing out in the yard when Junia let out one of her war cries and sped toward me. Confused, I jumped up, then spotted the snake slithering my way. Junia stomped down furious and fast on the ol’ copperhead, kicking it over into the woods. The same with the mama bear and her two cubs that wandered too close to me a few years later. Junia had risen up on her hind legs and protested so loud the windows rattled, chasing off the frightened bears.
Pearl caught up with me, carrying my boot. “Oh, Honey, I’m sorry. She is trouble with a capital T. How do you put up with her?”
Breathless, I rested my hands on my hips and took several deep breaths. “My folk will be upset if anything happens to her, Pearl.” Neither of them had ever so much as taken a switch to me, but I would take a hundred lashings rather than witness the sadness and disappointment in their eyes if something happened to Junia. “Junia!” I hollered. A light snow began to fall, and I grew frantic. “JUNIA!”
“Climb on up. Let’s go find her,” Pearl offered, pulling her coat collar up around her ears. “Maybe Pie can catch up with the old girl.”
“Much obliged, Pearl.” After this morning, I appreciated her kindness and was greatly relieved to know I wasn’t completely on my own.
“But first, can you take me by Devil John’s? I want to let him know what happened so he doesn’t haul my trunk up here and leave it where it would sit out in the snow. Maybe he can also send word to R.C. for me.”
I worried a moment that we wouldn’t be able to catch up with Junia.
“Is it far from here?” she asked.
“No, but let’s hurry.” I couldn’t let her trunk get ruined after she had her home vandalized. Likely, I’d catch Junia back in Thousandsticks waiting for Mama, and for as long as it took. I was sure I’d find her there, but what I wasn’t so sure of was whether the law would find me.
We smelled woodsmoke from the Smiths’ cabin minutes before we got there. I knocked on the old wooden door and Devil John’s wife, Martha Hannah, cracked it half-open, holding a baby. Three young’uns poked their heads out behind the skirts of her worn duster, pushing the door open wider.
“Honey,” she said, surprised. “Devil said you were home. Didn’t expect a visit so soon. Come in and have some warm food.” She sat the baby down behind her on the floor.
“We’re in a hurry, ma’am—”
One of the little ones yanked on her skirts. “Colleen, Colleen,” Martha Hannah yelled over her shoulder. “Come get these gran’babes so I can talk to our company. Lawsy,” she flipped back one of her silver braids, smoothed down her skirts. “My whole life’s been nothing but the babies. I get one batch good n’ grow’d, and another set of ’em finds their way in. Lil cockleburs they be.” She laughed and swatted a little one back inside.
“Ma’am, we ran into some trouble over at the lookout. Is Devil John around?” I asked.
Martha Hannah looked at Pearl. “Trouble? You must be the young firewoman Devil told me was lost. Welcome.”