Wonderland Creek Part 36

Mack spent another few minutes tramping around in the brush and calling to her before giving up. The rain that had felt so good after leaving the mine, now felt cold and miserable. I was getting drenched. "Let's go, Mack. I need a warm fire and dry clothes. We can walk home, can't we?"

"It's a long way, you know."

"I don't care. Where's the trail? Lead the way."

The woods were a little lighter than the mine had been, but I still couldn't see much. We were both weary from hiking through the mineshaft all night, and Mack still hadn't recovered his full strength.

We fumbled our way through the thick woods for half an hour when I simply couldn't walk another step. "Can we stop and rest, Mack? I'm sorry, but I'm exhausted."

"That's okay. I'm getting tired, too."

We found a large, damp rock and sat down on it, side by side.

"There's a shortcut we could take that'll be faster-the road up to Maggie's house. We would risk being seen, though."

"Who's going to be driving up that road at this time of night?"

"Hopefully no one. We can cut through the woods along the highway to get to it."

We finished resting and set off again. Mack soon found the narrow dirt road that led up through the woods to Maggie's cabin. I had never been on it before. Mud puddles dotted the road in places, yet it still was much easier to hike on than the path through the thick trees and brush. We moved much faster. Before long, I saw the dim outline of the cabin and the hulking shape of the barn. Dawn was still a few hours away, but I heard squawking and flapping coming from the chicken coop directly in front of us. Had the hens heard us approaching? Mack pulled me to a stop.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He held a finger to his lips. I saw him tense. I stared in the direction that he was gazing in but didn't see anything at all. When I looked up at Mack, his eyes were wide with fright. He wrapped one arm around my waist and began retreating slowly down the road, walking backward, pulling me with him. He was breathing hard again.

"What is it?" Then I heard the mountain lion's angry snarl. I smelled the animal, too-like the scent of a dozen feral cats. Its eyes flashed briefly, glowing in the dark, as it turned toward us. Mack didn't have a gun.

The cat began to move and came into sight. It was leaving the chicken coop and padding slowly up the road toward us. Mack pulled me tighter and whispered, "Don't scream and don't run. It'll attack."

The wildcat continued to creep toward us, sniffing the air, stalking us. The books all say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're staring at death, but my life didn't flash-maybe because I hadn't really lived it yet. Instead, I found myself staring into the future, desperately wanting to live, wanting to experience joy and sorrow, love and friendship. My life couldn't end this way. I wanted to begin living it.

The cat crept closer. It was only a few yards from us now, moving faster than we were able to back away. I was going to die, and I didn't want to.

Suddenly a gunshot cracked through the silence of the night. The cat leaped in the air as if trying to turn and run, then fell to the ground after only a few steps, its limbs twitching. I leaned against Mack in relief and began to sob.

"Who's there?" someone called. I recognized Maggie's voice. She walked toward us wearing her nightgown and Hank's hunting jacket, her rifle still raised, ready to fire again. I was so relieved, it never occurred to me that Mack should hide from her-that he was supposed to be dead.

"Maggie! It's us, Allie and Mack. Thank G.o.d you came when you did! You saved our lives!" I would have run to her, but Mack hung on to me, holding me back.

Maggie halted in the middle of the road, some thirty feet from where we were, the dead wildcat lying in the road between us. Maggie was close enough that we could recognize each other in the faint light. But she didn't lower her rifle.

"Step aside, Allie. I don't want to hit you, but I don't plan on missing a second time."

"But you didn't miss, Maggie, you shot it. See? The wildcat is dead." Why was she still holding her gun to her shoulder, looking down the sight, pointing it at us?

"I know the cat is dead. And now you need to step aside," she said, "so I can finish him off."

"But-"

"She's not talking about the wildcat," Mack said softly. "She means me. Maggie is the one who shot me."

"No. That's not funny, Mack. Both of you, stop fooling around."

"Tell her, Maggie," he said, loud enough for Maggie to hear.

"He's right. I'm the one who shot him. I thought I'd killed him, but I see I was wrong. I won't miss this time."

I instinctively moved in front of Mack, shielding him. I didn't think my heart could possibly beat any faster, but it did. "But . . . but why, Maggie? You're such a kind, loving person. I've seen the way you take care of Hank's mother and little Feather, and I know Mack well enough by now to know he isn't the villain." I felt dizzy and feared I might faint. I didn't want to believe that Maggie would shoot Mack-now or the first time. "Why would you do this? What did Mack ever do to you?"

"He came back here, that's what he did. It's his fault that Hank died."

"Listen, if I could do it all over again, Maggie, believe me, I would do things differently." Mack sounded breathless, as though he had just run up a steep hill. "I know I was wrong to get Hank involved. But listen, Alice and I just came from the mine. We found proof that his death wasn't an accident. If you let me take the evidence to Washington, they'll send an inspector up here and put the real culprits in jail."

"And then what? Is that going to bring Hank back to me?"

"No," Mack breathed. "No, it won't bring him back. I'm so sorry, Maggie."

She was still pointing the gun at us. I knew what a crack shot Maggie was. She could wound me in the arm or leg and then finish off Mack after I fell to the ground.

"Y-you don't want to do this, Maggie," I stammered. "They'll put you in jail for murder."

"I don't care. Miss Opal won't live much longer. She might rest easier if she knows that the man responsible for Hank's death is dead, for real this time."

"But Mack didn't kill him. The mining company did!"

"No, Maggie's right," Mack said. "Hank would still be alive if it hadn't been for me. I blame myself every single day for what happened to him, so why shouldn't she blame me, too?"

"Shut up, Mack," I hissed, poking him with my elbow. "Please, Maggie . . . You have your whole life to live. Don't throw it away on revenge."

Maggie gave a short laugh. "What do I have? Nothing! I'm going to join Hank and Rhoda Lee in the graveyard right after I send Mack to h.e.l.l. Now step out of the way, Allie. You're my friend, and I would hate to shoot you, but I will if I have to."

"No . . . please don't!" I wanted to live, and I wanted Mack and Maggie to live, too.

Suddenly I saw a flicker of movement alongside the cabin. A dark figure burst out of the shadows behind Maggie and raced straight toward her. Before I could react, the figure plowed into Maggie and tackled her to the ground. The gun fired with a loud crack. Mack's arms went limp and he dropped to the ground behind me.

"No! Mack, no!" I sank down beside him, weeping, shaking him. "Mack? Please be okay . . . please!"

"I'm okay," he breathed. "She missed me. I'm just . . . I'm just . . ." He covered his face. His shoulders shook with tears of relief.

Maggie's gun!

I scrambled to my feet and ran over to scoop up the rifle. I was stunned to see that the person who had tackled Maggie was June Ann Larkin. She lay on the ground beside Maggie, panting. "Are you okay?" I asked them.

"Why did you stop me?" Maggie moaned. "Why? You shouldn't have stopped me!"

June Ann slowly sat up, pulling her dress down over her bare legs. She wasn't wearing any shoes. "Listen, Miss Maggie. You took good care of my baby and I'm grateful. But Alice is the only friend I have in the whole world. I couldn't stand by and let you shoot her."

"What are you doing out here in the woods in the middle of the night?" I asked June Ann.

"I come over here all the time to be close to Feather. Some nights I sleep out here so I can hear her. I ain't very good at taking care of Feather myself, but I love her just the same."

I crouched down to give June Ann a hug, holding the rifle well away from us. "I'm so glad you were here tonight. You saved Mack's life."

Maggie rolled to one side and struggled to stand. I handed the rifle to June Ann and reached to help Maggie, but she pushed me away. "No! Let me go! Leave me alone!"

"I won't, Maggie. I care about you." I fended off her blows as I tried to pull her into my arms. "I won't let you go."

She finally stopped resisting and sagged into my embrace, weeping on my shoulder.

I stayed with Maggie, trying to comfort her as she mourned Hank's death all over again. June Ann disappeared into the night as silently as she had appeared, taking Maggie's rifle with her. Mack vanished, as well.

Nothing I said to Maggie could console her, so eventually we went inside the cabin where I simply held her and let her cry. The sky was growing light when the baby woke up and began to fuss. Maggie dried her eyes and went to her. I stoked the stove so she could heat a bottle of milk, then watched Maggie feed Feather, rocking in the chair beside the stove. Neither of us said much; there simply weren't any words that could express Maggie's sorrow or my sympathy.

I cooked oatmeal for breakfast for us and helped Maggie feed some to Miss Opal. Maggie gathered the eggs and took care of her animals, and the normal morning routine seemed to help her compose herself. Before long, she appeared as calm and gracious as she usually did whenever I visited her. I found it impossible to believe that this gentle, loving woman had tried to kill Mack-twice. Neither of us mentioned him.

I realized that two other people besides Lillie and me now knew that Mack was alive. But Maggie wasn't likely to tell anyone since she was the person who'd shot him. And poor, lonely June Ann had no one to tell.

"You probably should go," Maggie said when I'd finished my tea. "You have a very long walk back to the library, don't you?"

She was right, but I was reluctant to leave her. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes, Alice. I'll be fine. I have Opal and Feather to take care of, and you have Miss Lillie."

I hugged her good-bye and walked down the trail that had become so familiar to me, stopping at Mack's cabin. He wasn't there. The compartment beneath the cabin floor was open and the doc.u.ments he'd hidden there were gone.

I reached the library around noon, and when I emerged from the woods alongside the creek, there was Belle grazing peacefully in her pasture by the shed, safe and sound. I would have to lead her up to Mack's old cabin to fetch her saddle and bridle, but not today. I was much too tired today. I simply wanted to sleep.

"Mack told me the whole story," Lillie said when I walked into the kitchen.

"He made it back home?"

"Yep, he got here just after dawn." Lillie had a fire going and had made potato soup. The house felt warm and cozy. I slumped onto a kitchen chair. "You okay, honey?"

"Yes, but I'm exhausted." Lillie ladled soup into two bowls for us and sat down to eat it with me. I had worked up an appet.i.te on the long walk home. "Well, Lillie, you said that baby Feather would save Maggie's life, and you were right. But it didn't happen the way we thought it would. The baby saved Mack's life, too-indirectly."

"He told me how brave you was, stepping in front a him so Maggie couldn't shoot him."

"Where is Mack? Upstairs sleeping?"

"No, honey. He's gone."

"Gone? Where?"

"He left to take his book to the publisher and to deliver them other papers to the mining people in Washington. He'll be back just as soon as he can. He said he hoped you'd stay a little longer."

"But . . . How did he get into town to a train station? I saw Belle out back."

"Mack knows a trail over the mountain and through the woods. Shouldn't take him long."

I breathed a weary sigh. "I don't know how he'll manage it. I don't think I could walk another step."

We finished our lunch, and I went upstairs and climbed into bed. I slept like a dead woman. When I finally woke again, I spent the remainder of the day staring into s.p.a.ce like a mannequin in Marshall Field's store window. I had used up a year's worth of emotions in a single night-fear, sorrow, love, grief-and my heart needed time to replenish the supply. Lillie took care of me for a change, hovering over me, patting my shoulder or my hand. It took all weekend for my mind to stop replaying the image of the wildcat padding toward me, head lowered, ready to spring. Or the sight of Maggie's gun barrel aimed at me. And Mack.

On Monday morning I decided to calm my nerves by typing more of Miss Lillie's recipes. It was one of the few tasks I could do that didn't require any thinking on my part. I was on the very last notebook and making good progress when I found an envelope tucked between two pages. Someone had printed Miss Lillie on the front, but the envelope had never been opened. I brought it into her bedroom to show her.

"What is this, Lillie? The seal has never been broken."

She took it from me and studied it for a moment before handing it back. "It's a letter that tells where the treasure is hidden."

"What? Are you joking? Is it the same treasure that the Larkins and Arnetts have been fighting over all these years?"

"Mmm hmm. Old Granddaddy Larkin gave me that letter when he was dying."

"Mack's grandfather?"

"No, his great-grandfather. That was years and years ago now. Way back when I first come to Kentucky, long before Mack was born. Old Isaac Larkin asked me to come take care a him when he was sick and dying. That's when he gave me that letter."

"But why didn't you ever open it up and see what it says?"

"He said to keep it safe for him. He said I would know when to open it."

"You've had it all this time? Why didn't you use it to dig up the treasure?"

"That money ain't mine to dig up."

"So the treasure is real? And it's still buried?"

"Far as I know. Ain't none of my business, honey. But I can tell by the way both families have been fighting over it that neither one of them has that treasure."

"Do you know the whole story, Lillie? Where the treasure originally came from?"

"Sure I know it. Isaac told me all about it."

"Please tell me. I've heard romanticized versions of it, but never the real story." I sat down on the chair beside her, listening in breathless suspense, just as Faye's boys and Mamaw had listened to Treasure Island.

"Wilbur Arnett, Isaac Larkin, and Abe Coots were like brothers," Lillie began.

"Wait. Who's Abe Coots? Is he any relation to Maggie?"

"Yes, he was Hank Coots's great-granddaddy. All three men growed up together and all three went off to fight the War Between the States. Wilbur and Isaac lived through all that marching and shooting and fighting and came home again, but their friend Abe Coots was killed in some battle down around Lookout Mountain. His two friends put all their money together and had Abe's body shipped back home so he could be buried in the cemetery here in Acorn. That's where Isaac and Wilbur are buried, too."

"Is that the same graveyard where Mack . . . where he's supposed to be buried?"

"No. There's an older cemetery over behind the churchyard. When those graves filled up, they started that new cemetery."

"Wait. Where is this churchyard? Mack said you used to take him to church, but you told me there wasn't one here in Acorn."

"That's because n.o.body uses it no more. Everybody stopped going on account of the feud. That church used to be filled with Arnetts and Larkins every Sunday morning, singing and praying and praising the Lord. Then this feud started up and the families decided they ain't gonna worship together no more. Pretty soon there ain't enough people left to keep the church going, so the minister gave up and left town. That poor old building is all falling down now."