Free The Star Garden by Nancy E. Turner Page B

mother went to heaven with the angels.”
    Blessing turned a red face toward me. Tears shot forth from her eyes and a slick of spittle came from the corner of her mouth. “She did not! She did not! She’s lost and she’s looking for me. My mommy would never go to heaven without me. She needs me. She said so.”
    “I know she needs you. You were her favorite little girl in the whole world. You were a special gift to her from God. But He needed her up there with Him.”
    “I hate God! He doesn’t need my mommy.
I
need her. I’m going to run away and find her. You’ll see. I’m leaving.”
    There are people I know who would spank a child for saying to an adult anything so impertinent. But I knew how she felt. “Shall I help you pack?”
    She made a choking sound and nodded “yes.”
    I pulled her valise from under the new bed all decked with fluffy down coverlets and stuffed toys. “What would you like to take? This bear?”
    “No.”
    “You’ll need some drawers and stockings. How about one of these dresses?”
    “I hate that one.” She slid off the wooden horse and pulled open a drawer on a chest between the windows. “This is my favorite nightie.” She folded it carefully and laid it on the bed. It was an old one that had belonged to one of Savannah’s girls that I’d restitched for her when she’d gotten to my ranch house. For some reason, it warmed my hands to touch it. “I want my dolls from home. Poppy said I can’t have them.”
    “They are all lost, honey,” I said. I tucked the nightie in, along with stockings and two sets of pantaloons and the brand-new tortoiseshell hairbrush from her dressing stand. “Do you want the doll Granny made?”
    “All right. Bring Molly. And my red cape. Poppy reads me ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ when I wear it.”
    I folded the tattered cape. She’d had it on when I found her and Harland’s family in San Francisco, living in the filth left after the fire. It had taken me two washes to discover it had once been red. “If you leave, of course, he’ll never read it again.”
    She glared at me, the look on her face one of suspicion and accusation. “Yes he will.”
    “No he won’t. If his Little Red Riding Hood is gone.”
    “I’ll be with Mommy. He can read it and come find me.”
    “Do you want to take a buttonhook? How about a toothbrush? Are you all set, then? Shall I drive you to the train depot?”
    “Yes.” She nodded firmly, a horse trader having made the best bargain of the day. I carried the valise through the house past workmen and movers, the maid and the cook. Harland was calling from a back room for men to put a piano in the front parlor. Truth, Story, and Honor were in the backyard prowling through crates and cartons, hiding and jumping out to shoot each other with their fingers. Out of habit, Blessing took my hand as we swept past them all and got into the buggy I’d only half unloaded. No one noticed that we pulled onto the road, nor waved or called as we drove toward the depot.
    Two miles down the road we turned at a corner, and another mile went by before we pulled up at the station. It was quiet at the moment. I tied off the horse and helped Blessing down. “Sit there,” I said, and went to talk to the stationmaster. Then I returned to her. “It’s all set,” I said. “You have permission from the man who runs the trains to get on. All you have to do is wait for the next one. Good luck. It’s getting dark. Try and find something to eat along the way. There might be something left on the floor after someone real sloppy is finished. Don’t forget to brush your teeth once in a while so they don’t fall out. If they do, be sure to get some false ones that don’t clack too much. Goodbye and farewell.” I smiled and waved as if she were only skipping next door to see a friend, then I climbed into the buggy.
    Worry took her face, but she sat still. I shook the reins. The wheels turned. The horse took two more steps. I heard a