Free Julia's Hope by Leisha Kelly Page B

sometimes.”
    Julia gave a little smile. “It’s not been too easy for them. But they don’t complain much.”
    “They’re good youngsters, then. You musta taught ’em right.” I looked at her a long time, and she turned her eyes away without saying nothin’ more.
    I took a look out to the old willow tree and thought of Willard’s grave on the rise north of the pond. I’d been wantin’ to go back there ever since comin’ here, even though Rita was one of m’ dearest friends. People had told me to sell, plenty of times, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even think on it for wantin’ to go home again. But it wasn’t gonna happen. And the good Lord well knew it was time I faced up to that. No matter what Willard mighta thought.
    Looking at the quiet young mother sittin’ in front of me, I knew I was gonna have to tell her something. They needed a home more’n I did. And I had no right under God’s blue sky to be selfish. But a knot rose up in my stomach anyhow, so tight I could hardly breathe. It weren’t easy to let go.
    Mrs. Wortham was lookin’ at me funny. “Are you all right, Mrs. Graham?”
    “You got any family can help you?” I asked.
    “I was an only child. My parents and grandparents are dead. Sam has his mother and brother in New York, but we can’t go there. They can’t help.”
    “Why’s that?”
    She bowed her head. “Edgar’s in the penitentiary, Mrs. Graham. And Samuel’s mother married a man who wouldn’t have us coming around.”
    “Why not? What’s wrong with ya?”
    “Well, nothing as far as I can see,” she answered without hesitation. “But it’s been this way since we got married. I think because Sam’s different now. He’s—he’s a Christian, like me.”
    “Well, there’s hardly harm in that! But they won’t help ya?”
    “I don’t think they could, even if they wanted to. They’re not much better off than we are. We were on our way to Sam’s cousin, but he lost his job too.”
    I lifted up m’ needle, but set it right down again. I’d wanted to die still owning the farm, having that hope of going home again. I could feel m’ tears tryin’ to come, but I wasn’t gonna let ’em, not in front of Julia Wortham’s notice.
    You don’t need that farm no more, I told myself. I’m fine where I’m at, and they got nothin’. What’s a Christian to do?
    It took me one deep breath to decide. “I’ll tell you what,” I said to her. “A family’s gotta have a home. You stay there and fix on it, like you said. I’ll have some friends check about you now and then. We’ll give it a year or so. An’ if you do right by the place, you can have it.”
    Mrs. Wortham’s mouth opened up slow, and then closed again. But then the tears come like somebody opened a gate for ’em.
    “Mrs. Graham . . . oh, Mrs. Graham, are you sure?”
    “Don’t go tryin’ to change m’ mind, now!” I told her real stern. I had to be stern, or I’d start bawlin’ m’self, and I sure didn’t want that to happen.
    “Mrs. Graham, I–I don’t know what to say! I expected to tenant and pay you something when we could—”
    “I’d like some apples off the tree, come fall.”
    She looked at me and then come bustin’ forward with a hug. “Yes. Oh yes! But isn’t there anything else?”
    I couldn’t hold it together no longer, even for the trying. “You can’t have all the land,” I said, struggling somethin’ fierce with the words. “I’ll need ’bout six feet of it. You have t’ put me in the groun’ next to m’ husband.” And then my tears come out too, and Mrs. Wortham hugged me tighter, tellin’ me I didn’t have to be so kind.
    I had to push her away, had to get my sternness back. “I’ve made up m’ mind, now! You do right by the place! I’ll make sure and check! You let that George Hammond keep farmin’ the field, if you ain’t got the means. You do right by him too, you hear? He needs all he can gain from it to feed that family a’