Free In a Dark Season by Vicki Lane Page A

was goin away and at first I thought that I was dreamin. But then I opened my eyes and seen a heavy mist risin off the river and little drops of dew a-coverin my blanket. I could hear footsteps comin closer and when I looked from behind the rocks where I was, I seen a girl totin a big ole bundle that like to bent her double. She was makin her way down to where they was a great flat ledge pokin out into the shallow water.
    She clumb careful-like onto the big rock and let that load drop down. Ooo-eee! she said and straightened up, a-puttin both hands to the small of her back, like hit was painin her some. The fog was burnin off now and I could see that she was young and thin, with yaller hair so pale hit was most white. I watched, keeping quiet as a cat a-layin fer a bird, whilst she leaned down to undo that great bundle. She begun to pull at the knot that held it together and I seen hit was naught but a great pile of blankets and towels and suchlike. Then she looped up her skirts betwixt her legs, tuckin them in at her apron strings, and waded a little way into the river, pulling one of the blankets with her. She had her a bucket of soft lye soap and she commenced to scrub at that blanket and beat it against the rock and dip it in the water over and over. And all the while she was a-singin that song, askin the wagoner’s lad to stay by her.
    At long last she had the blanket to where it suited her and she hauled it up onto the flat rock to begin to wring the water from it. Hit was a slow task, the blanket bein heavy, and time and again a corner would drop into the water and then hit would be to do all over.
    I stood up from behind the rocks and used my fingers to set my hair to rights. Iffen you don’t care, says I, speakin soft, so as not to spook her, iffen you don’t care, hit’d be a sight easier job was I to help you.
    Well, she give a little cry and walled her eyes at me, showin a deal of the whites, but still she stood her ground. I begun to tell her how come I to be there and afore long, I had took hold of t’ other end of that ol’ blanket that was aggravatin her so and we was twistin it dry and laughin like one thing.
    By the time that the sun was full up and the mist all burned away, ever bit of that washin was done and spread out on the grass to dry. She had told me that her name was Luellen and that hit was her pa what owned the stand. You come up to the house with me, she says. I’ll speak fer you and I know he’ll give you work. We’re in need of a hired hand as our last one has went off with a wagon haulin goods to Warm Springs.
    There was kindly of a hitch to her voice when she said that and she pulled on a big ol’ poke bonnet that clean hid her face, saying something about the sun hurtin her eyes. I thought of the song she had been singin. Well, says I, he must have been a rank fool to go off and leave such a fine place—and such fine company.
    She ducked her head and didn’t say nothing. We walked slow on up to the house. My stomach was growlin like a new-woke bear but she commenced to tell me all about herself and her family. I seen that iffen I wanted her help, I had better listen. Women-folk always do want you to listen.
    Howsomever, she told me that she was her pa’s only child but for a brother what had run off with a cattle drive some years back of this.
    My mommy died whilst I was still a lap baby, says she, and her voice begun to tremble again. And then my daddy married Belle, so as to have someone to look after me. She weren’t but only a servant girl, for all she gives herself such airs now.
    At last we had come to the house with its long porches and tall chimbleys. The smell of fryin bacon was strong in the air and my mouth begun to water. I hoped that Luellen was right about her pa wantin help.
    As we come nearer I seen they was two big hounds—great red ones like what they use to hunt bear—and they was chained to either side of the steps up to the porch. They stood up all