The Heartbeat of the Mountain Read online

  Luvella began, “I’ve developed a large clientele in the Valley and with the few tourists who come through.” That word, clientele, would impress Mr. Johannson. “Of course, you are aware my ideas and advertising—from reading my Harper’s Magazine—brought the tourists here in the first place. Indeed,” she continued in her lofty tone, “I’m the one who talked all our merchants into forming an association for our own benefit as well as for the Valley’s.” She took a breath and finished, “You know I can pay the rent.”

  “This here’s hard for me, Luvella.” Mr. Johannson, still nodding in agreement, scratched his head. “I have to answer to the railroad, y’know.”

  “Yes, I understand, Mr. Johannson.” She lowered her voice to sound older, and serious-minded. She had to make this work and now was the moment. “Have you told them my name yet?”

  “Well-l-l, no,” he said. “I only said someone was interested. If I wired them the interested person was just a girl, they’d laugh me offa the telegraph.” He let out a squeaky laugh. He was nervous now, worried he might lose her business after all.

  Apparently, those men hadn’t contacted him yet about the caboose, and she wanted to finish this before they did. So, very slowly, she peered at each of the dilapidated furnishings and walls, frowning at the one hole behind the desk. She winced as she opened the stove’s door, which screeched in rebellion.

  Something different was there, and she bent to peer inside, her right knee reminding her of that man’s attack. She stood back and invited Mr. Johannson to look. She didn’t say a single word.

  He reached into the cold stove and brought out two jugs. He pulled the corks and sniffed.

  “Moonshine,” he barely whispered. “Someone’s been in here.”

  Although Luvella was pretty sure she knew who had been inside the caboose, she didn’t say. She could feel Mr. Johannson’s confidence wavering as he fidgeted with the jugs and made that whistling noise as he breathed. At the entrance to the car, she turned abruptly, swishing her skirt, to face him.

  “Mr. Johannson.” She tried to keep her heart from sounding like a train in a tunnel. “Since the W and NB Railroad is already interested, you can tell them that you have L. Andersson wanting to rent this caboose for seven dollars a month. You don’t have to mention whether L. Andersson is a man or a bear—just L. Andersson.”

  Opening the door, she steadied her hands on the grab rail, stepped down the stairs to the ground, and braced against the rising wind. “I’d like to have this…arrangement…completed by next week,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the quaver in her voice. “Can you please do that for me, Mr. Johannson?” She used all her inner strength to smile up at him.

  He blushed, clearly feeling put upon, and kept tapping his fingers on the jugs. It seemed like hours passed before he finally spoke. “Luvella, let’s see what I can do. I’ll have the answer for sure by our merchants’ group meeting tomorrow and can let you know then.”

  “No!” Luvella blurted, and then cleared her throat dramatically. I don’t want any news of this getting to those men. “I…mean, I may not announce this to the group just yet. When I get a few free minutes at the store tomorrow, I’ll come over to find out the railroad’s decision.” She pushed one long curl back into the ribbon again. “Thank you, Mr. Johannson,” she said, using her low voice and smiling. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

  She turned into the wind, which suited her mood perfectly, soaring and exhilarating and powerful, as Mr. Johannson went into the depot. She almost floated over to the Muncy Inn, where her best friend, Anna, was waiting for her. Anna was the only other person, besides Steckie and Bessie, who knew about what she planned for the caboose.

  Inside the inn lobby, Anna’s father was sitting in his office behind the registration counter glowering at some papers. The smell of his cigar mingled with that of fried bacon wafting in from the Smythe family’s quarters in the back.

  Anna pulled Luvella into a small sitting area off the lobby. “Oh, tell me, Luvella. Quickly!” She held both of Luvella’s hands in her own.

  “I think I did it, Anna! I think I did it!”

  Chapter Two

  Anna and Luvella hugged each other, jumping up and down, stepping back to look at each other, and then hugging again. “I just know I am actually going to have my store in the caboose. I imagine Mr. Johannson’s tapping that Morse code message on the wires to the railroad right this minute.”

  “Oh, Luvella. I’m so happy for you.” Anna sat on the velvet chair across from the love seat and leaned forward to whisper. “When are you going to tell your mama and daddy?”

  Luvella rested an elbow on the arm of her chair and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’ll ask Bessie for some ideas on my way home from the store today. But I don’t want to tell anyone else until I know it’s for sure and I’m ready.” She looked at Anna. “Another business could come along and offer Mr. Johannson more money.

  “As a matter of fact, Anna, two men attacked me on my way down my road and warned me against getting the caboose. And we found some moonshine in the stove there. I’m sure those men left it.”

  Mr. Smythe coughed and cleared his throat. Anna’s eyes followed the sound to his office. She leaned toward Luvella, speaking softly. “Luvella, now you have to keep a secret for me.” She lowered her voice even more. “Some nasty man was in here two weeks ago and came in again today. Daddy’s been ornery and going over those bookkeeping records ever since.” Tears welled in her eyes and her voice wavered. “I think Daddy…might be losing the inn.”

  Luvella covered Anna’s hand with her own. “I am so sorry, Anna. But remember just two years ago how my whole family—’cept me—had typhoid fever and how we lost the sawmill and our house. Now, I have my business and Daddy has the sawmill back.”

  “I know,” Anna replied. “But this man seems so”—she shook her head for emphasis—“so determined to take over the inn and push Daddy out. With that depression in ought-seven and then the typhoid epidemic, the inn has been…almost empty.”

  Luvella glanced out the window, studying the caboose. That feeling again…every time I see the back of the caboose. She turned slowly to face Anna. “Is this man quite tall, with red hair and a beard?”

  Anna nodded, her head bobbing repeatedly. “And mean eyes.”

  “He was in the store a couple weeks ago, in and out,” Luvella murmured, “and he kept touching things, like he wanted them, too.” She looked out at the caboose again. What is in my head that wants to come out? “He asked Steckie about your inn. In fact, Anna, I slightly recollect seeing him somewhere else besides my store but can’t remember where.”

  Anna’s shoulders raised almost to her ears, then returned to normal as she let out a long sigh. “We need some visitors to town, Luvella. If I have to move away, we might never see each other again. You’re so good at advertising the Valley. If you think of something new, I’d be glad to help you with it.”

  “Now you’re thinking,” Luvella said. “I haven’t read the latest Harper’s Magazine, but the new issue came in yesterday. I’ll take one home with me today. And now,” she said as she walked toward the door, “I have to get to the store.”

  When Luvella entered the hardware store, Steckie smiled. “How was your meeting? You look right happy.”

  Luvella twirled, her hands reaching skyward, her head tilted back. “I think I have it, Steckie.” Then she told him how she gave the name for Mr. Johannson to use, and Steckie chuckled.

  “Luvella, I’m glad you’re my sister-in-law, and not a competitor. You’re so much like my little wife.” They both laughed.

  “I want to stop and see Bessie on my way home, Steckie—tell her my news. Any sales while I was gone?”

  Steckie pulled his brows together. “As a matter of fact, that tall gentleman came back—right after I saw you walk past the store. He sashayed directly over to your display case and inspected everything, carefully. It was as if he knew you weren’t here. Did you
see him?”

  Luvella shook her head and strode quickly behind her display case, checking her stock as if she thought he had run off with something.

  “He bought Thirza Maarten’s quilt,” Steckie continued, awe strengthening his voice. “The most expensive item in your inventory.”

  Luvella was contemplating that—the thrill of the big sale and the menace of the steely-eyed buyer—when Steckie added in a quiet tone, “He said he’s coming to our meeting tomorrow.”

  “He’s coming?” she shouted in a shrieky whisper. “He’s coming?” She turned and paced behind the case. “Why? Did you invite him? How did he know about our group? How did he know about the meeting?”

  “Whoa, Luvella! I didn’t tell him anything. He said he’d met with David Smythe. And then he said since he will soon be the new owner of the inn, he thought it would be important for him to meet the other businessmen here in the Valley. David Smythe gave him the partic’lars.”

  “Steckie, there’s something evil about that man.”

  “I know what you mean. Bessie said the same thing when she saw him. But we shouldn’t…listen too hard to our suspicions.”

  Luvella just turned her head from side to side. “But oh. I don’t want him to be there.”

  ****

  At five o’clock, Luvella picked up the latest issue of Harper’s Magazine from her new magazine rack and rushed toward home. She stopped at Bessie and Steckie’s house situated near the road leading up the mountain to her own home. When she knocked and entered, Bessie greeted her with a big hug. “Oh, Luvella, I just finished ironing your dress.”

  “Bessie, you are the best big sister ever. And I have some news, so it’s a good excuse to put our elbows on the table together, as Mama always says. Where’s Vanessa?”

  “She’s taking a late nap. It’ll be a long night tonight.” But she smiled and her eyes glistened like morning sunshine.

  After Luvella changed back into her own dress, they sat at the table in the kitchen, hugging their cups of coffee. Luvella reached to squeeze Bessie’s hand. “I had my meeting with Mr. Johannson. I think he’s going to help me get the caboose. I hope to start cleaning it next week.”

  Bessie’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my land! I didn’t know it would happen so soon.”

  Luvella smiled. She loved Bessie’s natural exuberance as much as her keen business mind.

  Bessie added, “We can all help you. I can bring Vanessa in her basket, and we can get it ready just like we did for your corner of Steckie’s store. What did Mama and Daddy say about it?”

  Luvella shifted in her chair. “They don’t know yet, Bessie. And I really don’t know how to tell them.”

  “You’ll figure out how,” Bessie said. “But you should do it right away.”

  “I will. I promise,” Luvella said. “I was hoping you’d have a suggestion about how to begin, at least.” When Bessie just rolled her eyes, Luvella laughed, stood, and took her coffee cup to the sink. “Speaking of Mama, I’d better get home. She’s still tired from the pneumonia. It’s hard to see her so exhausted.”

  Luvella clutched the magazine under her arm and stepped off the front porch. She glanced down Main Street and stopped abruptly. There, stepping out of the bank and onto the street, the tall, red-headed man turned to walk up Renter’s Run, the road leading to the tenant houses. He hesitated, putting something inside his jacket, and then walked on. Even though he was tall and slender, Luvella thought he had the look of a fat mountain lion licking his chops. She frowned and turned to rush up the mountain road to her home, peering deep into the woods all about her.

  Later she’d surely have to tell Daddy about the two men. But first, she would tell Mama, when she was home and alone with her.

  The fog had lifted, even though the sun remained filtered behind clouds. But Luvella could see her mountain—Pennsylvania’s North Mountain—and feel the warmth of the sun, and her mood was aloft. Since she was busy planning her evening—read Harper’s, think of new advertising ideas, and how to clean the caboose—she almost missed the horse tied in front of her house.

  No saddle. I thought I was the only one in the Valley to sometimes ride bareback. Hmmm, except for Indians. She opened the door into the house.

  Chapter Three

  As she opened the door, the murmur of voices silenced. Luvella swallowed a small gasp. There, sitting at the kitchen table next to Mama, was an Indian. She searched Mama’s face for signs of terror; there were none—just fatigue showing in her eyes. Mama put her hand on the sleeve of the man at her elbow. “Isaac, this is my youngest. Luvella, this is your great Uncle Isaac. He is married to your great Aunt Hilda—your grandma’s sister.”

  The man stood and nodded. He was a tall man. Long black hair, streaked with ample strands of gray, framed his face, his dark eyes, and high cheekbones. Oh Glory! That Indian is my uncle!

  “I am pleased to meet you, Uncle Isaac.” She recovered from her rude reaction. She set her magazine on the hearth to read later and stood behind Mama, her hands on Mama’s shoulders.

  “Are you feeling all right, Mama? You look tired.”

  Mama put her hand over Luvella’s and sighed. “I’m fine, Luvella. Aunt Hilda is very sick and needs help, probably for just a few days.” She looked at Uncle Isaac, who was still standing and rotating the brim of his black hat through his hands.

  He spoke with a clipped accent, his voice deep and resonant. “I shouldn’t have come to you like this, Margaret. But she can’t do anything for herself now, and before she fell into her deep sleep, she asked if I could get a woman to help her. She asked for you.”

  He sat again, once Luvella sat next to Mama. “I can’t do much for her any more, but I surely would like to please her these last few days.”

  “Oh,” Luvella said. “That sounds so…so sad. I’m very sorry. But Mama, you simply can’t go now. Dr. Jordan said you have to rest.”

  “I know, honey.” Mama looked at her hands, folded on the table, and then looked up at Luvella, her eyes begging. “I feel… It’s been so long… Aunt Hilda never asked us for anything…” She stopped, shaking her head slowly.

  Uncle Isaac shifted his feet under the table and cleared his throat.

  Luvella sighed, understanding what her mother meant. Aunt Hilda had lived just across Muncy Creek when Mama was growing up. Mama would tell Luvella stories of how much fun Aunt Hilda had been at family picnics and holiday barn parties. But when Aunt Hilda married, she moved to Forksville and had hardly ever been mentioned in Mama’s family since. When she was mentioned, it was always, “…you know, the one who married an Indian.” White people just didn’t do that.

  But Luvella could hear the regret in Mama’s voice and knew what Mama expected of her.

  Now is not the time, Mama! she wanted to say, thinking of the caboose, the move, and how she had yet to tell her family. “I’ll go in your place, Mama,” Luvella said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I really have to go to the merchants’ meeting tomorrow first, though.” She looked at Uncle Isaac. “What time do you want us to start in the morning?”

  “If we don’t have to take a wagon, we can cut across the mountain. Then it will only take…mebbe four, five hours, giving the horses time to rest. Can you ride?” He looked at Luvella, eying her lace-trimmed dress.

  Luvella knew her small stature gave the impression of delicateness and femininity, so she forgave her great uncle this small mistake. “Of course,” she said sweetly. “So, if we leave by eleven or noon tomorrow, we’ll be there while it’s still daylight?”

  Uncle Isaac nodded, concern wrinkling his forehead. “If you can keep up, that would give us enough time. Hilda is being taken care of now by another grandniece, who is almost ready to give birth. It is not good for her to be with death when she is about to give new life.”

  Mama spoke up. “Uncle Isaac, Luvella is an excellent rider, but I hope you won’t drive her too hard. She’ll need her get-up-and-go to nurse Aunt Hilda.”

  “Don’
t worry, Mama. I’ll be fine.” Luvella rose from the table. “And now, I have to tell people of an earlier time for the business meeting tomorrow, so please excuse me, Uncle Isaac.

  “Mama, I’ll quick change and ride Daisy so I can be back in time to finish cooking dinner. That beef smells delicious.” She grinned and patted her stomach. “Anything I’ll need to get for my trip?”

  When both Uncle Isaac and Mama shook their heads, she grabbed the Harper’s Magazine and flew up the stairs to change into her riding skirt. No reading by the hearth tonight.

  Later, she felt much braver galloping into the Valley to the train depot. Those men would never catch her, even if they were on horseback, too. She still kept an eye out for them, even as she raced through her mental list of what she had to do before she left for Forksville with Uncle Isaac: while she tells Mr. Johannson of the earlier meeting time, maybe she’ll get approval to rent from the W and NB Railroad; stop at the store and ask Steckie to be early for tomorrow morning’s meeting; and tell him she’ll be away for a few days.

  Oh! How many days will I be away? Uncle Isaac never said.

  Daisy stopped at the pull on the reins. Luvella dismounted and tied the horse to the hitch in front of the depot. She slowed slightly to enter, remembering Mama’s constant reminder to “act seemly, Luvella.” She smiled when Mr. Johannson looked up.

  “Your daddy won’t let you take the caboose now, ain’t that right, Luvella? Just after I received the railroad’s acceptance?” Mr. Johannson frowned.

  “No such thing, Mr. Johannson.” Luvella’s smile broadened upon hearing the good news. “I have to go to Forksville for a few days, and I’d like everything in place before I leave. So, the railroad has approved?” she asked, just so she could actually hear him say the words.