Page 113 of In These Hills

“I just figured I’d get it done.” Bethie tore off another piece of jerky.

It was clear Bethie didn’t want him to know how badly her arm hurt. But why?

“Bethie was sharing some of her jerky with me, which tastes just like what you gave me before. It’s so good!”

“Uncle Dodge makes it himself.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He just laughed.

“He’s been making it for years!”

“Mmmm . . . Well, it’s delicious, Mr. Coburn. And I believe I asked for the recipe.”

Bethie perked up. “I can tell you what’s in it. I help him make it.”

Dodge cleared his throat. “We best save that for another time and let Mrs. Dunham be on her way. Here, let me walk you out.”

On the porch, Josephine smiled. “You really don’t want to share that recipe.”

“I will. I promise. It’s just a bit . . . detailed and I don’t want you to be late.” His voice lowered. “Thank you for staying with her. I could tell on the way back she wasn’t feeling well. She’s a tough little thing. Doesn’t like to let on when she’s hurting.”

“While she didn’t tell me outright not to tell you, I sense she doesn’t want you to know her arm is worse than she let on. I was surprised when she asked me to stay and help her with her bath. Then when I saw her arm, I—” Suddenly things became clearer. She had to smile. “I think I know why she doesn’t want you knowing.”

She looked pointedly at him, but he just stared.

“Dodge, she wanted me to help her with her bath . . .”

Slowly, his quizzical look faded and a shy smile took its place. “Ah . . . Say no more. And now I really do thank you for staying.”

They both laughed, and the genuineness of his reaction was so endearing. So attractive. Even though neither of them moved, she would’ve sworn the space between them lessened by half, and the warmth in his eyes sparked a flame inside her.

“Josephine, I—”

She moved toward the front steps. “She’s in pain, Dodge. There’s some swelling and a nasty bruise is forming. I’ve made her a sling but if there’s any way to get Doc Wyatt to look at it tonight, I would.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, then finally nodded. “He’s still in the barn. I’ll get him. And . . . I’m sorry about what happened today. In the field. Thank you again for helping Bethie.”

“You’re welcome again. And there’s no need to apologize, about any of it.” She let her gaze travel the length of the lush green hills that embraced the town of Lynchburg. “This was actually one of the best days I’ve had in a very, very long time.” She started down the steps, then turned back. “And for the record, you were right.”

His brow rose.

“The first day we met you said a rifle could mean the difference between life and death in these hills. I didn’t believe you then. But I do now.”

44

RUNNING LATE, Josephine set the dining room table for breakfast then returned to the kitchen. “How can I help you this morning, Calla?”

Calla, standing with her back to her, didn’t answer. She’d gone quiet again over the last couple of days, despite Josephine’s efforts to draw her out.

“Calla?” she tried again, stepping closer. Only then did she see Calla’s hands, trembling uncontrollably.

“I’m trying to stop, Josephine, but—” Her voice caught. “I can hardly do my work for the jitters it’s giving me. I dropped a dish yesterday and told Miss Mary I done forgot it was hot.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I ain’t never lied to her before. And her being so good to me. For all the world, I wish the Lord would just take me like I been asking him. I’m so tired of doing what I know I shouldn’t . . . all to dull a hurt that seems set on never healing.”

Josephine hugged her tight, sorrow and anger battling for dominance. “I wish I knew what to do to help you.”

“I think maybe I’m past help,” Calla whispered, staring at her clenched hands.