“Sure am. Thank you. What time do you need me to be here?” I tethered Junia to a tall stump, excited.
“I’ll be leaving at dawn if Katherine William’s pregnancy doesn’t delay me. You can leave your mule in the building over there where I house my automobile, and I’ll have one of the boys from town tend to our mounts while we’re gone.”
“Much obliged, Amara, but ol’ Junia gets fussy with the menfolk unless she knows them.”
“Smart girl. I’ll have one of the nurses stop by. What’d you bring today?”
“I have some good selections. Anything particular you looking for?” I pulled off the pannier.
She swept off her beret and said, “Well, any romance in there? And I’m missing my newspaper from back home. Do you think maybe you can get hold of a copy of the Louisville Times?”
I smiled. “I like romances too. We have lots of them, and I have the latest circulation of the Times.” I wondered if she liked excitement reads. “I can even bring you a Life magazine that has Janet Leigh on the front.” I thought about the daring photograph of the movie star, then quieted, feeling I’d overstepped my welcome.
Amara chuckled. “We’re going to be good friends.”
Grinning, I pulled out the rolled newspaper and handed it to her. Amara looked down and frowned at my dark-blue skin. She tucked the newspaper under her arm and took my hand in hers, examining it.
I snatched it back and put my hand inside my pocket, feeling the damp gloves.
“Honey, are you feeling poorly? Are you unwell—”
“No, it’s a gene hitch, Doc said. Methemoglobinemia is what it’s called. Most of my kin have had it for centuries.” I waved my hand in an overexaggerated matter. “Flares up some when I get riled, or something bad—” I shrugged, not wanting to tell her what happened at Bonnie’s and the Gillis’s. Bonnie didn’t want the nurse to come, and Amara might want to check on the boy. But if Mr. Gillis found out about him falling down the well, I worried Guyla Belle would have to pay for it hard, maybe me also.
“Is there a cure?”
“No cure. Methylene blue can make it go away for a bit. But Mama said some medicines are worse than the cure.”
“Hmm, the old drug used for cyanide poisoning. Methemoglobinemia.” She pocketed the big word. “I’m not too familiar with the medical term, but I’m intrigued. You’ll have to tell me more on the way to Louisville.”
I nodded, rummaging through the bag. “Here’s a good one. With All My Heart.” I gave it to her. “It’s a love story about Charles II and Catherine of Braganza.”
Amara studied the front and flipped it over to read the back dust cover.
I liked the novel because the princess had an ol’ blind woman like Retta who gave her smart advice. “Oh, the author, Margaret Campbell Barnes, was an ambulance driver during the last war in London,” I added.
“I’ll take it!”
I gave her a flyer from the Company store and some church pamphlets.
Above, a lone bird flew over, lifting its natters as the thinning sunlight swept its last hours into darkness. Junia neighed into the rises and lows.
“It’s getting late,” I said.
“Are you still living at Miss Adams’s?”
“I moved back to my grandparents’ cabin because Alonzo had to sell hers.”
“That old man sure is a mess,” she said. “Thank you for these. See you tomorrow.”
“Much obliged, Amara. I can’t wait to see them, and I’ll pay you for the gasoline.”