Cottonwood Whispers Read online

  “I’m nearly seventeen,” I argued. “I’m enough of a woman to be courtin’.”

  “Not courtin’ a man of twenty-three. The minute Luke were to show you some attention, your daddy would be loadin’ the shotgun.”

  “Oh, he would not. Daddy wouldn’t kill Luke.”

  Gemma waved a hand in front of her face to dismiss the subject. “If it’s meant to be, Jessie, it’ll be. That’s all there is to it. It just ain’t meant to be yet.”

  I shrugged, guessing she was probably right, though I hated to admit it. Gemma went on inside, but I stood on the porch steps for a minute giving a little thought to her idea that Daddy would have the shotgun on Luke if he came courting. I shook my head at the notion and sighed. It seemed every other day I heard my momma moan about how fast time was flying, but the way it seemed to me, I couldn’t get old fast enough.

  Chapter 2

  “Wasn’t it just yesterday you turned thirteen, Jessilyn?” my momma asked me as she scrambled some eggs. “And here you are turnin’ seventeen today. I declare, time flies faster’n a body can keep up.”

  I had no reply. I could hear her like her voice was in the background, but I was too busy wondering about Gemma’s ways with Joel Hadley the day before.

  “You got any special hopes for this birthday? any big plans you didn’t let me in on?” Momma tried again.

  When I didn’t answer, she stopped beating the eggs and glanced at me. I was sitting at the kitchen table, thoughtlessly buttering biscuits.

  “Jessilyn,” Momma said. And then she repeated, “Jessilyn!” a bit louder to get my attention.

  I finally snapped out of it enough to say, “Yes’m?”

  “You butter them biscuits any more, you’ll have nothin’ left but butter with a little biscuit attached.” She laid her whisk on the counter and put both hands on her hips. “You got your head on today?”

  “Think so.”

  “You sure?”

  I dropped my head down onto my arms and wailed, “I don’t know, Momma.”

  Daddy walked past the kitchen door, stopped, and poked his head into the room. “What’s wrong with Jessilyn?”

  “Just confused, I think,” Momma said, talking about me like I wasn’t in the room. Momma just about always attributed my anxiety to teenage girl things.

  “Well, what’s got her confused?”

  “Seventeen, I think.”

  “Sadie, how’s seventeen make a girl confused?”

  “Ain’t seventeen; it’s the things that come along with seventeen.”

  Daddy lowered his voice even though I was only six feet away from him. “Ain’t she already been confused at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen?”

  “Daddy!” I cried.

  He ducked his head a little and held his hat out in front of him in a placating gesture. “Honey, I was just wonderin’ out loud. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

  “You meant somethin’, all right.” I stood up quickly with a squeal of my chair. “I must be the worst person in the world to live with, I guess, seein’ as I’m always confused and all.”

  I let my butter knife drop onto the table with a clatter and ran out of the room. Now, I knew I was being crazy, and I felt bad knowing that I’d left my daddy shaking his head at Momma. But I also knew that Momma would say, “She’s just a growin’ girl, Harley,” and he’d accept that and head out to the fields. I knew that because it had happened a hundred times already in my young life.

  I made my way through the fields to do some thinking, even though thinking was probably the last thing I needed to do. As usual, I ended up walking past Luke’s house. I pretty much had a homing instinct toward that little cottage in the woods, and I knew I’d find him home on this Saturday morning. He was out back leaning over his old worktable, fully engrossed in his chore, but when he caught sight of me, he dropped his tool and stepped in front of the table with one quick movement.

  “Jessilyn!” he said nervously. “What’re you doin’ sneakin’ up on me like that?”

  “I ain’t sneakin’. I’m just walkin’.”

  “Well, I can’t really talk right now, you hear? I got things to finish up.”

  He was standing there strangely, his cheeks all red, and I leaned over slightly trying to see what he was obviously trying to keep me from seeing. He kept moving in different directions, first to the right and then to the left, whichever way was necessary to keep me from catching a glance at his project.

  I was far too curious to leave without finding out what he was hiding, so I ambled a little closer to him. “You got somethin’ to hide, Luke Talley?” I asked with a sly smile.

  “I don’t hide things.”

  “You are too hidin’ somethin’,” I insisted.

  “Now, Jessie, just stay back. You’re dreamin’ things up.”

  “Why should I stay back if I’m just dreamin’ things?”

  I walked a little farther toward him, but he made a sudden move and stumbled backward over something. When he landed on his backside, I caught sight of what he’d hidden from me, and I forgot all about asking him if he was all right. Rushing to his side, I said nothing of his unfortunate position and just stared at the beautiful jewelry box that sat on that rickety old wooden table in Luke’s backyard.

  It was incomplete—one of the doors hung half-attached and the wood was bare and unfinished—but it was quaint and charming nonetheless.

  “Did you do this?” I asked him in awe.

  “Doggone it!” he said, slapping his leg with his hat to dislodge the dust on his pants. “Why don’t you listen?”

  “I asked you a question. Did you make this?”

  He ran a hand through his sandy hair, tugged his hat down onto his head in a frustrated sort of way, and sighed. “Yes, ma’am, I did make it. And now if you ain’t up and ruined the whole thing.”

  “Ruined it?” I argued, still fascinated that he had done such fine craftsmanship. I had seen Luke make many a chair and table, but never something so fine as that jewelry box. “I ain’t even touched it, and you’re sayin’ I ruined it? I didn’t break a thing.”

  “I didn’t say you broke it, Jessilyn,” he mumbled. “Just never you mind and let me get to work.”

  “Well, why can’t I watch? I ain’t never seen you make somethin’ so fine before. I’d like to see how you do it.”

  “I’m almost done, anyhow. Ain’t nothin’ to watch but me tightenin’ some screws and paintin’ some wood.”

  Seeing as he seemed to be in a fine and nasty mood, I said nothing more. Instead, I moved back a few yards and settled into the crook of a tree to watch from a distance.

  Thinking I’d left, Luke fiddled with the jewelry box door. “Sneakin’ around like that,” he muttered under his breath, bending over to pick up the screwdriver that had rolled under the worktable. “That girl’s always comin’ round when she shouldn’t. I swear it!”

  I bristled at his comments. “If you don’t want me comin’ round no more, then you just say so.”

  My exclamation caught him by surprise, and he stood too quickly, slamming his head on the table. “Dagnabbit!” he yelled, rubbing his head. “Would you let a body know you’re around before you scare ’em half to death?”

  “What’re you yappin’ about? I was just talkin’ to you no more’n a minute ago.”

  “Well, I thought you’d gone.”

  “Well, maybe I will go.”

  The two of us squared off like sparring partners, our eyes narrowed at each other. Then he just shook his head and said, “Girls!”

  Now, I’d known Luke for four glorious years, and the way I figured it, he could say just about anything to me and get away with it, even if I did fuss at him for show. But he couldn’t have done much worse that day than to call me a girl. I’d loved Luke since the day I’d met him, and I didn’t want him thinking of me as just some girl. The rage in my voice made that point loud and clear.

  “Girl! Don’t you dare call me a girl.”
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br />   Luke raised an eyebrow and said with a clenched jaw, “If I’m talkin’ to a girl, I call her a girl. You want me callin’ you a boy?”

  “I’m a woman!”

  He tossed his screwdriver onto the table with a clatter and took a few steps. “Now, Jessie, don’t get started with all that again. Every time I say the word girl, you go gettin’ angry. It ain’t like I’m callin’ you a baby or nothin’.”

  “You may as well have,” I cried. “Callin’ me a girl! I’m seventeen today, case you didn’t know it, and I ain’t no girl.”

  “I know all about you bein’ seventeen,” he yelled. “You’re gettin’ sore over nothin’.”

  “Well, I ain’t no little girl.”

  “I never said you was. You think I’d go through all the trouble to make a fancy jewelry box for some little girl? No sir!”

  I stood ramrod straight, ready to fire back, but his words suddenly took root in my brain. “For me?” I squeaked out. “You didn’t tell me that was for me.”

  His cheeks started to take on that red flush again, and he studied the ground. “Well, what’d you think I was hidin’ it for?”

  “I thought you just didn’t want me knowin’ you did it, like you were embarrassed to let me see.”

  “I didn’t want the surprise ruined, is all. I was runnin’ late with it, anyhow, and now all this arguin’ set me back even more.”

  I walked slowly back over to the intricate box. Nobody had ever made anything like that for me in my life, and to have it come from Luke was like a dream come true. I studied its every curve and swoop, running my hand lightly across the grain of the wood.

  Luke came to stand beside me and watched my face with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag,” he said at length, “d’you like it?”

  “Do I like it?” I murmured. Filled with that surge of anxious emotion that could come over me when I was with Luke, I stumbled for words.

  “Well, do you?”

  “I . . . I . . . ,” I stuttered, taking short, wobbly steps backward away from him. “I . . . love it, Luke,” I finally managed to say. “It’s the prettiest thing anybody ever gave me.”

  He swallowed hard. “I ain’t no good at givin’ presents to young ladies,” he said, putting emphasis on his new title for me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d be thinkin’.”

  “Well . . . I like it. Are you bringin’ it by tonight?”

  “I’ve been invited for cake, ain’t I?”

  “You’ve been invited for the whole supper.”

  “So I’ll bring it with me then.”

  I stumbled backward a little more, said, “Guess I’d better be gettin’ home,” and ran off with shaky legs.

  I was fairly bursting with pride when I got home, but I wasn’t about to tell anyone. The way I figured it, no one would think Luke’s gift as special as I did, and I wanted to enjoy every bit of it without someone putting a damper on my enthusiasm. They could just see it tonight at my birthday dinner.

  I took extra care at making myself look pretty for that evening, but I was a poor hand at dressing my hair. I was just starting to lose my patience when Gemma came up behind me, taking the iron from my hand to make perfect ringlets.

  “You should wear it up today. It’s the way a woman should wear it for a special occasion.”

  I could always depend on Gemma.

  A dozen hairpins later, Luke arrived, the sound of his voice making my toes tingle.

  “He’s here!”

  Gemma added one more hairpin and stepped back to admire her work. “There! You look like a real lady.”

  I kissed her cheek, scurried out into the hall, and then skidded to a stop before reaching the top of the steps. That was where I straightened my skirt and took a deep breath so I could descend the stairs as casually as possible.

  Luke greeted me with a low whistle. “If you don’t look a perfect lady, I don’t know who does.” He glanced at my daddy. “You must be mighty proud havin’ a pretty lady like that under your roof.”

  “Sure enough, I am. Problem is, I’m gettin’ worried about all them boys my pretty lady might start attractin’. I ain’t cut out for seein’ boys lined up at my door.”

  “That ain’t gonna happen,” I said adamantly.

  “And why not?” Momma asked. “Matter of fact, Buddy Pernell was askin’ about you just the other day when I was gettin’ my groceries. Think he’s maybe a little sweet on you.”

  “Ain’t no boys who need to get sweet on me,” I said. “I won’t pay them any mind, anyhow.”

  “Oh, you’re just sayin’ that now,” Momma said. “Come on and eat, everybody, before the supper cools.”

  Gemma and I hung back behind the rest, and I exchanged a glance with her.

  “Ain’t no boys for me,” I reiterated.

  “I know, Jessie,” she said. “Ain’t nobody but Luke.”

  I smiled and took her hand. She understood me better than I understood myself, and I loved her for it.

  After supper I opened my gifts, my hands still shaking as I undid Luke’s awkwardly wrapped package even though I knew what it was. A lifetime’s worth of worries couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face that evening, and it was stretched near to breaking point as I pulled the bow off. My cheeks were sore as could be.

  When I pulled that jewelry box out, Gemma and Momma made all sorts of exclamations about how pretty and fancy it was.

  “Ain’t that just the nicest thing you ever owned?” Momma asked me.

  “Luke made it,” I announced proudly.

  “Why, Luke Talley, you done outshined yourself. I didn’t know you could do such things.”

  Gemma ran her hand down the side of it and sighed. “It’s really somethin’, that it is. We’ll need to find a nice place for it in our room, Jessie. A right nice place.”

  Daddy, however . . . he didn’t say a word. He just stared at it and cleared his throat a few times. “That’s an awful grown-up gift,” he said when the excitement died down. “The kind of gift a real lady gets.”

  We all looked at him strangely, wondering about his meaning.

  “Sure enough it is,” Momma said. “Which makes it fittin’ for a girl of seventeen.” She tugged at one of the perfect curls Gemma had made on my head.

  Daddy nodded slowly and stared at that box.

  “What’ve you got to say about that craftsmanship, Harley?” Momma asked as she fingered one of the spindles. “Mighty fine piece of work, don’t you think?”

  Daddy paused before he spoke. “Sure enough. The boy knows how to handle a chisel.”

  Luke nodded at Daddy and said a nervous word of thanks, but he looked uncomfortable all the same, and I could feel the good excitement just dripping away under Daddy’s hard stare. I saw Momma give him a little look of warning.

  “Well, I think it’s the best thing I ever seen,” I said in an attempt to break the tension.

  “You just need more jewelry now,” Momma said with a laugh. “You know, I got me a pearl necklace I been meaning to pass on to you since Daddy got me those fancy ones for our anniversary last year.”

  “Pearls, Momma?” I asked, clapping my hands together. “Real pearls?”

  “Near about as you can get, I guess. And now you’ll have a right nice place to put them, too.”

  “Now, who done said a thing about the girl wearin’ pearls?” Daddy asked suddenly. “One minute she’s gettin’ fancy gifts from boys, and now you’re talkin’ about her wearin’ fancy pearls.”

  “Harley,” Momma cautioned, “what in the world . . . ?”

  “I’m just wonderin’ when turnin’ seventeen meant a daddy ain’t got no say no more.”

  “No one said you ain’t got no say. We’re just talkin’ a little jewelry.”

  “Seems to me we’re talkin’ about the girl like she’s twenty-five and marryin’ age.”

  I stared at him with pleading eyes. “Daddy, you’re ruinin’ my birthday.”

 
; “I ain’t ruinin’ a thing. I’m askin’ a question, is all. When did my baby girl become a woman of the world?”

  “Harley!” Momma exclaimed. “You and me need to talk on the porch. Right now!”

  Daddy sighed long and hard. Though my momma wasn’t known to push him around, there were times when she meant to have her way, and this was one of those times. Her whole demeanor said so.

  “All right, Sadie,” Daddy finally said. He pushed his chair back swiftly, sending a squeal throughout the silent kitchen, and followed Momma out the front door.

  Luke was sitting back in his chair with his thumbs stuck under his suspenders, his head hung low. “I didn’t mean to upset him none with my gift.”

  “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that gift. It’s perfect. He’s just bein’ ornery.” I looked at Gemma, and she gave me a weak, sympathetic smile. “You don’t think there’s anythin’ wrong with my jewelry box, do you?”

  “I think it’s right nice,” she said with a bigger smile this time. “You did a real nice job, Luke.”

  “I sure didn’t mean to upset anyone. . . .”

  His words tugged at my heart, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to make him feel better.

  Sitting as quietly as we were, we could hear Momma’s and Daddy’s voices as they argued on the porch. It was hard to hear particulars, but Momma and Daddy always paced when they fought, and I knew it would take only a minute or two for them to move up the porch toward the kitchen.

  Sure enough, it didn’t take long for us to hear my momma say, “Harley, she ain’t a little girl no more.”

  “That girl’s my baby,” Daddy replied. “Always has been.”

  My cheeks grew even hotter, and I lowered my forehead into my hand so Luke wouldn’t see.

  “She ain’t no baby,” Momma continued adamantly. “You best start realizin’ it now.”

  “She ain’t no grown woman, neither. I don’t want her gettin’ fancy gifts and wearin’ fancy things. It’s trouble, I’m tellin’ you.”

  Poor Luke looked mortified, and he hopped up from his chair, saying he needed to visit the bathroom.