“I’m Pearl Grant. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Smith, even under these poor circumstances,” Pearl said politely.
“Devil had some ’portant business to tend to after dinner,” Martha Hannah said, her eyes darting between our faces.
She didn’t say moonshine business, but it was there just the same as the foxtail, clover, and nightshade growing in these hills. Moonshine was farming for some, a living, an existence to keep shoes on the children and bellies fed.
“Ya sure ya can’t come in and let me fix y’all some supper? Fine stew, I have,” she said. It was tempting. I could smell it cooking, the delicious gravy with scents of onion and other herbs wafting out the door.
“Obliged, but we need to hurry, ma’am.”
“I’ll have Carson fetch him.”
I glanced over my shoulder, looking up at the white, starless sky, the spitting snow. “It’s Junia. She took off, and I fear she may be heading back toward Thousandsticks. I hope to find her before she gets herself into trouble.” Or worse, the both of us.
“That sweet apostle sure has seen her share with your dear mama,” Martha Hannah said knowingly.
“If you’ll let Mr. Smith know someone vandalized the lookout stairs and that I’ll be staying with Honey here, I would appreciate it,” Pearl said. “Tell him I can get my trunk later.”
“Lawsy, I’ll send Carson right now. Carson, git out here and go fetch your pa!”
The couple’s twenty-three-year-old son poked his head out the window. “Pa done took off for Knoxville to meet Allen on some business ’bout an hour ago. Oh, hey, Honey.”
I smiled and waved a hello.
“Carson, get on your coat, saddle up, and go catch up with your pa,” Martha Hannah said.
Carson ducked his head back inside.
“Hoping he can also get word to the ranger station for me, Mrs. Smith,” Pearl said.
“I’ll make sure he tends to it for ya.” Martha Hannah nodded.
Birds hurried to their nest, pulling on the mantle of darkness. Snow dropped a little heavier and it looked as if it might get worse.
“Much obliged, ma’am,” I said. “We best be on our way. It would be great to find Junia before she gets to Thousandsticks. Otherwise, we might be stuck there for the night.”
“If I know’d Junia like I do, she’s already there, Honey.” She chuckled. “I’ll let Devil know you’re headed that way and send him over to check in with ya and our new lookout,” Martha Hannah assured us.
Pearl started to object. “I don’t want to trouble him any further—”
Martha Hannah dismissed Pearl, shaking her head. “I insist. We take care of our Kentucky daughters. Ride safe, girls. We have us a big snow a’comin’ in.”
***
Together we rode Pie, stopping occasionally to call out and search the paths for any signs of the mule. With each step closer to my home, an uneasiness took root. I hoped that Junia would be safe and my parents had been released and I’d find them there. I knew I was taking a chance, and the warning about the children’s prison weighed heavily.
We arrived back in Thousandsticks a little after one in the morning. We heard the ol’ mule before we saw her. Junia stood near the porch, her whinnying rising into the lonesome night song of whip-poor-wills and thrush. Still, something was wrong, with Junia out here alone and especially untethered like that.
I dismounted and flew up the steps, grabbing the porch lantern and matches off the wooden rail, calling, “Mama? Papa, Mama, are you back?” The door was unlocked. Inside, I lit the lantern and held it up. “Mama, Papa, Pa—” I choked, my heart sinking with each break of breath. Slowly, I moved into the kitchen and then into their small bedroom and to my loft above, calling out for my parents, the only family I had left in Kentucky, the world. “Mama, Papa?”