Free Summer In Iron Springs by Margie Broschinsky Page A

Stephen’s words made Phoebe wonder if he could possibly understand where Bessie was. She didn’t even know if she was sure where her mother was.
    “That’s good,” Phoebe said. She liked Stephen but her heart couldn’t take a conversation about her mother, not today. She headed toward the picnic table.
    Norm opened a large red cooler and pulled out a big bowl of chicken salad, thick slices of Anna’s fresh baked bread, homemade potato salad, bottles of ice cold water, and an entire apple pie. Phoebe reached for a plate and two slices of bread and dumped a heaping serving of chicken salad onto the bread. Then, she piled a huge mound of potato salad onto her plate. She grabbed a bottle of water and sat down beneath a tree. Billy served himself and sat down beside her.
    “You got a lot done already,” he said. He took a big bite of his chicken sandwich. “You really seem to know your way around an orchard.” He twisted the cap off his water bottle and drank the whole thing. Then, he grabbed a second bottle and opened it. “You see any more snakes?”
    Phoebe bit into her sandwich and enjoyed the tasty combination of chicken, sweet grapes, crunchy celery and mayonnaise. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was starving or if it was Anna’s chicken salad, but the sandwich was delicious. “Nope, no more snakes,” she said. “But a raccoon fell out of a tree onto my head.”
    Billy laughed and so did she. “It was a baby; he was really cute so I named him Fritz.”
    She finished her bottle of water and took another one with her as she headed back to work.
    ***
    “Are you comin’?” The voice came from behind her. Phoebe glanced over her shoulder and saw Billy standing there.
    She raised her eyebrows in his direction and tightened her grip on the pipe she was carrying. “Coming where?”
    “We’re finished for the day.” Billy smiled and pointed toward Norm’s truck. Norm was in the driver’s seat and the others were in the bed waiting for her. Phoebe wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced at her watch—two thirty. She had worked for over eight hours. She looked at her arms; they were covered with scratches. A thick layer of dirt and sweat covered her completely and every muscle in her tired body ached. She did her best to brush the dirt from her arms as she followed Billy to the truck but it was an exercise in futility. Only a long, hot shower would get her clean. Once she was seated, she allowed her head to fall back. Her eyes closed and within seconds, she was asleep. Forty minutes later, the truck jolted her awake when it came to a stop outside Anna’s house.
    ***
    Phoebe heard the knock at her bedroom door and the one that followed but she was so caught up in the painting she had propped in her lap that she didn’t bother answering it.
    “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Anna said, joining her on the balcony. She pointed to the painting.
    Phoebe nodded her head.
    Anna gazed at the mountainside. “It was painted from this spot right here.”
    “Yeah . . .” Phoebe spoke softly. She glanced at the painting and then her eyes moved to the mountain peak. “I was just comparing this one to the real thing. It’s that peak right over there, isn’t it?”
    “Why yes, it was.” Anna smiled. “You have quite an eye Phoebe.”
    “I noticed the silhouette at the top of the mountain over there. It’s the same as this one.” She pointed to the painting. “Except that here it’s covered in snow . . .” Phoebe paused for a moment. “. . . You can still see the form of the mountain peaks right here and here.”
    “Did you notice that it’s not signed?” Anna asked.
    Phoebe nodded her head and glanced curiously at Anna. “None of the others are signed either,” Anna said glancing over her shoulder at the paintings hanging on the wall in Phoebe’s room.
    Phoebe was sure Anna knew who the artist was but she didn’t want to ask. She had already concluded that they were all painted by the