“Our staff here at Glidewell is so caring and loving,” Mary said as she looked at Maizie. “I doubt I would have let Josie come, if they’d asked.”
“I think you would have,” Maizie said. “Everyone deserves a chance. You gave me one.”
Mary entered the cabin for the third time since returning to Glidewell. The Glidewell men and horses would be returning within a day. She found Josie alone and awake for the first time. Josie watched Mary closely as she approached the bed. The young woman’s coloring had improved but her sunken eyes and dark circles reflected the effects of her illness. Josie neither smiled nor said a word. Mary stopped a few feet from the bed, appearing to be searching for something to say.
“Feeling better?” Mary said.
Josie looked down and pulled on her head rag and tried to sit up straighter in bed. Her weakness, however, would not allow it. Mary grabbed a pillow off one of the bedside chairs. “Put your arms around my neck and I’ll help you up.” Mary placed the pillow behind Josie’s back. The patient did as Mary asked and laid her head on the pillow. The effort seemed to exhaust her.
“I know you are tired. But I hear you are recovering. Sugar is quite sure of it.”
Josie nodded. Clearing her throat, she pointed to water in a glass by her bed. Mary lifted the glass off the tray and held it to Josie’s lips while she took a sip. “Thank you,” Josie whispered.
“I need to know why you were in Springfield? You told me your father would take you in.”
Josie took a deep breath and coughed, covering her mouth. Then she grabbed the sheet with both hands and pulled it up to her neck. Mary could see tears in her eyes.
“My daddy don’t love me. I never even went back to Tupelo.”
“But Leon put you on the train. He saw it pull away.”
“I got off at the first stop and exchanged my ticket for one to Kansas City.”
“Kansas City?”
“I’d heard about jobs in West Bottoms.”
“Doing what?”
“Working card rooms.”
“What happened?”
“I wasn’t good in the card rooms. Seems I wasn’t pretty enough. So I came back to Springfield.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I tried to find work. Hard times. I don’t have nobody. I lived in the camp.”
“Is that when you got sick?”
“I got the clap in Kansas City. Doc said sometimes women are sick and don’t know it. But the pneumonia came on at the camp, here in Springfield. I’ve been sick with this cough for a while.”
“Did you have a bed, food?”
“Folks helped me a little until the rash came on my hands and legs. Then they wouldn’t. They called me dirty.”
“Josie, I’m sorry. I would have never…”
“I’ve blamed you. Cursed you plenty. I had no hope.”
Mary looked at Josie with sympathy and quietly said, “We’ll talk again. Maizie has asked if she can visit you some time?”
Josie closed her eyes. “I wasn’t nice to her when I was here.”
“I know. I think she has forgotten about that.”
Mary patted Josie’s hand. Sensing the girl needed to sleep, she removed the extra pillow and gently laid her head back down. Then Mary left, feeling the full weight of Josie’s circumstances, the pain of it pushing her down.
Chapter 82
With Gratitude
Maizie walked down the lane to Josie’s cabin with a book clutched tightly to her chest. The book had been one of Mary’s favorites. The cover was battered, the pages dog eared, and Mary assured her that Josie would like it. “It’s about an orphan who learns to get along. It’s about kinship and education and family. The main character, Anne, is joyful and eager to please in her new home, but she makes mistakes. Gets into trouble, off and on. It’s a good lesson for everyone,” lectured Mary.
Maizie climbed the steps to the sick cabin, as it was now called, and opened the door. Josie was awake, sporting a white turban. Turning her head, she nodded to Maizie to come in. Maizie took a chair next to Josie’s bed, and opened the book. “I think you’ll like this. It’s about a girl who is an orphan.”
“Like me?” asked Josie. Maizie thought about Josie’s situation for a minute.
“You an orphan?”
“You could sure say that about me. My daddy kicked me out. Said I had the devil in me. Said I wasn’t good.”
“Guess you are an orphan too, if you are all alone. Maybe this book will help?”
“Maybe. I sure am looking forward to listening to it. Ain’t done much of anything for a while now ’cept talk with Sugar.”
“Did your parents read to you?”
“You mean my daddy? No, he didn’t read to me.”
“Your mama?”
“Don’t remember her reading to me. Don’t remember much about my mama.”
“My mama died too. She didn’t know how to read much either.”
“That right? Well I guess we have one thing in common, a parent that couldn’t read.” Josie laughed, but her smile soon faded into a gloomy frown.
“Maizie, I’ve been thinking about all the mean feelings I had towards you. I hated you ’cause you had it so good and Capp took you horseback riding.”
“I knew you liked Capp. Thing is, I do too.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you deserved him. Or any of the nice things you had here at Glidewell.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause you’re colored. Never saw a colored in all my days in Tupelo that had it good like you. And Capp wanting to take you out on a ride was just too much.”
“You still hate me? ’Cause nothing’s changed. I’m still colored. And I still have a good life here.”
“No. I think different now. Why, Sugar has been like a mama to me. She’s takin’ so much
