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“Beautiful. Green. Lots of wildflowers. Big blue sky.”
He studied the still snow-covered landscape and mountains off in the distance. “I’ll bet it’s something.”
“It is. No streetcars though.”
He shot her a smile. “Do folks climb the mountains?”
“Sometimes, but I’ve never known anyone to go all the way to the top. Odell said the Natives worshipped them. They believed their gods lived on the summits.”
“So they have stories?”
“Yes, just like most groups of people do, I suppose.”
“My father said when he was young, the old slaves told stories of the African gods. Sadly, most of the tales died with them.”
She wondered what those tales had been like. Were there tricksters and magical beings? Were some gods evil and others good? Her mother, Isabelle, had been enslaved then freed as an adolescent. She’d never talked about her experiences though. McCray said he wasn’t ashamed of his past. Had her mother felt differently? Was that the reason she never discussed those years, or did she simply want to forget because life had been too painful? Spring wondered what her mother would think about what her daughter had been forced to do to survive after her untimely death. Not wanting to open old wounds, she turned her thoughts away from those heartbreaking times and concentrated on the warmth in the air and the brilliant blue sky above.
Like the road, the gravel path leading to her brother’s house was thick with mud from the melting snow. “We’re here.”
They dismounted and he eyed the surroundings. Seeing the unfinished structure behind the house, he asked, “Are they putting on an addition?”
“No, it’s going to be the town’s first hospital. Colt has an office in town, but he’d like to treat people away from town, too. He’s also adding a room where patients can stay overnight if need be.”
She led McCray up the steps to the porch and knocked on the front door. It was opened by her seven-year-old niece, Anna.
“Aunt Spring!” the girl cried joyfully and launched her small frame into Spring’s embrace.
Grinning, Spring picked her up and hugged her close. “Hello, Anna. How are you? How’s your pony Shadow?”
“I’m fine. Shadow, too. I have to wait until the snow melts some more before I can go riding. It’s so good to see you. Colton Fontaine spit up all over Mama. She’s in her room cleaning up.”
Spring saw Anna eyeing her companion, and so made the introductions. “Anna Lee, this is Mr. McCray. He’s a newspaper man and is going to do a story about your father. McCray, this is my niece, Anna.”
“Hello, Miss Anna. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello,” she replied shyly. “Pleased to meet you, too.”
Spring put her back on her feet, and they entered the house. She was just closing the door when Regan appeared with her son in her arms. Spring noted the bags of exhaustion below her eyes.
“Hello, Spring,” Regan said. “Is this thenewspaper reporter Odell told me about when he stopped by yesterday?”
“Yes. Name’s Garrett McCray.” Spring turned to him. “McCray, this is my sister-in-law, Regan Carmichael Lee.”
He nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lee.”
“Same here. My husband’s been expecting you. I’m sorry he isn’t here. This small bundle of sometimes joy is our son, Colton Fontaine Lee.”
McCray stepped closer and peered down at the blanket-swathed infant in her arms. “Hello there, little fella. How are you?” He then asked Regan, “How old is he?”
“He’ll be six weeks old tomorrow.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Anna said, “He cries so loud sometimes.”
McCray said to Anna, “Crying is what babies do. They grow out of it, though.”
