Free The Coffin Quilt by Ann Rinaldi Page B

And neither one of us has got a penny to our name."
    They brooded some more. "We'll figure a way," he said. "And next time I come, I'll have an answer. I promise you, darlin'. I'll be back next week. Meet me here by this creek. One week from today."
    I got out from behind that old boulder then and crept away, back to the mimosa tree, all the while trying to figure out how to help them. It wasn't right they
couldn't wed. I knew that, young as I was. Just the same as I knew that you wash your head with apple vinegar if you get cooties.
    Ro didn't talk much for the rest of our visit. Just went back to work on that old Coffin quilt of hers like nothing had happened. She sure was set on stitching that baby's little black coffin down firm.
    Aunt Betty asked me to stay for supper, but I said no, I had to get home. I could stay away "in the woods" just so long, even on a Saturday, without having to explain where I was.
    "Can I come back next Saturday?" I asked Ro. I didn't want her to run off with Johnse without me knowing it.
    She said yes. And made no connection to Johnse's coming again. It was like she was someplace else in her head and didn't even know I was leaving.
    ***
    I MUST HAVE been someplace else in my head, too, not to reckon that Johnse could pay a visit to my sister without word getting around like a brush fire. By the time I came to the supper table my whole family knew he'd been there.
    My brothers Bill and Bud brought the news. They'd been to Stringtown that morning, to the general store run by old Harlan Meeker, to get some coffee beans for Ma. I loved my brothers, but I didn't believe the story. Why to Stringtown, when we had a right proper general store here and Mr. Randolph sometimes gave us goods on trade?
    No. I didn't believe a word of how they'd just happened to run into Johnse and stood jawing with him a while, real friendly-like. I think my brothers were snooping around like bloodhounds. My family can be awful sneaky sometimes.
    "What's Johnse doing in Stringtown?" Pa asked.
    "Maybe buying coffee beans," Alifair said. She got right uppity sometimes, and Pa let her 'cause she was the oldest girl and he said she had common sense and depended on her.
    "He was to see Ro," Pa said. "And by Jehoshaphat, I won't abide it!" He slapped his hand on the table and we all got quiet. I'd been quiet all along, of course, scared somebody would know I'd been to see her this day.
    "Not gonna have it," Pa was ranting. "He's seen the last of my daughter, that little white maggot."
    I felt Alifair staring at me, like she knew I'd seen Ro that afternoon. Her eyes looked downright queer, like she was looking right into my soul. And I began to believe that she did have powers, like Ma said. I kept my eyes down on my plate, because I didn't want to face her power just then, whatever it was.
    "Tell you what I want, boys," Pa said to Bud and Bill. "Want you both to go to Stringtown next Saturday and keep an eye on that little white maggot. He'll be timbering with his pa all week, but sure's God made apples, he'll be on the prowl again next Saturday. If you sense he's on his way to see Ro, come tell me. I'll get Jim to arrest him. He's deputy sheriff. It's his job to arrest people who seduce innocent young girls."
    It was the first time since Ro had run off with Johnse that he'd spoken of her as innocent. Would my brother Jim really arrest Johnse? Could he arrest him? What did
seduce
mean? Had Johnse done something terrible to Ro that I didn't know about? If so, why had they clung together at Devil's Jump today like the Devil was coming back again with his apron full of stones?
    Alifair was staring at me again. I quickly looked down. She could wither my spirit, that girl, if she tried hard enough.
    "Don't you think somebody ought to go over and warn Ro that Johnse is sneaking around?" Ma asked. "I'm sure she doesn't want to see him anymore. If she did, why would she be hiding out at Aunt Betty's?"
    Young as I was, sometimes I thought