Page 25 of Grounded (May Hollow Trilogy #1)

Beulah tied her orange apron around her waist, the one given to her by her Aunt Sara years ago.

It was still her favorite, despite her having half a dozen now.

Soft as a lamb’s ear, it felt the best to her and she needed a little comfort today.

Slices of country ham sizzled in the iron skillet.

A dozen store-bought eggs sat awaiting their turn in the frying pan.

They were pale, anemic little things compared to the rich eggs she used to gather from her own chickens.

That was one of the many things she had let go of after losing Fred.

One by one, the hens died of old age, and she never replaced them.

Tomorrow was her surgery, and she dreaded it.

The nurse told Beulah not to eat a thing after midnight, but who in the world ate anything after midnight?

Yet somehow, hearing what she couldn’t do made her feel deprived.

Surgery was not for the weak, but neither was growing old.

She flipped the ham slices, breathing in the salty aroma.

Well, the Lord knew best, and she had to trust Him. That was all there was to it.

Preparations were made. Every closet and drawer in the house had been organized and cleaned. The garden was growing and beans would be ready for picking soon. She might even be able to help Annie break beans, if the Lord let her live through the surgery.

There, she had pulled the niggling thought out into the open.

What if she went to sleep and never woke up?

It wasn’t that she was afraid to die; no, the Lord had taken care of that for her.

It was Annie. Beulah felt the child was in the middle of a great transition and needed her right now.

With everyone else in her life abandoning her either by choice or by death, Beulah did not want to leave Annie alone, and especially as their relationship had taken a subtle turnabout.

Beulah’s stubborn streak had almost reared and made Annie go back. But Annie’s offer to stay and help had touched her in a deep place, and by God’s grace, she accepted. Pride. She had struggled with that old sin all her life and reckoned she would until the end.

Beulah poured water on top of the ham. A little boiling made the slices good and tender. Black coffee sat on the counter, ready to make red-eye gravy as soon as the water boiled off and the ham was removed from the pan.

“Lord, your will be done tomorrow. I’m in your hands,” she whispered.

“What can I do?” Annie asked. Beulah noticed she had changed out of her church clothes into jeans and a short-sleeved top.

“You can get the biscuits out of the freezer and put them in the oven. When I made them up I froze them in the pan, so they’re all ready to go.”

Annie did as Beulah asked, then set about dressing the table. “Lindy won’t be coming today. Do you know who might be here?”

“Scott can’t come this week. Set for five, and we can add to or take away if necessary.”

“What happened with Mary Beth’s marriage?” Annie asked.

“Her husband took up with a beautician over in Rutherford. Met her through taking his son to little league games. Left Mary Beth and didn’t look back.”

“Do you think she and Scott will get together?”

“Hard to say. They seem compatible, but he’s never been married before, and it might be hard for him to take on a woman, two children and an ex-husband who will always be in the background. We’ll see. Were you interested in Scott?”

Annie smiled, but shook her head firmly. “I’m not interested in anybody. I guess there’s a romantic inside me who would like to see people be happy together. How did you and Grandpa meet?” Annie asked, pulling glasses out of the cabinet.

“Oh my goodness, I haven’t thought about that in years.” Beulah eased into the chair and took a deep breath.

“You know the old stone house is where I grew up. It’s also where I met your grandfather.” Beulah watched Annie fill the glasses with ice and tea.

“Did you go to school together?”

“Oh, no. Fred’s people were from Gravel Switch, over in Boyle County.

In September, after World War II ended in August, Daddy hired on two brothers from over there who were just back from fighting.

They needed work, and he needed help getting his tobacco in the barn and we had lost my brother Ephraim in the war, you know. He fell in Italy, at Anzio.”

Annie sat down and nodded, her eyes wide.

“The first day they worked, Mama had me take a glass jug of water out to them midmorning. That was when I met the brothers, Fred and Pete Campbell. Of course, I’d been eyeing them at a distance from my room upstairs anytime I could slip away from my chores.

When Mama asked me to take water out to them, I was so nervous I couldn’t even speak.

I was used to the boys around home, but these two were strangers. ”

Beulah could remember the way Fred looked as if it were only hours before.

Before he nodded his hello, he wiped the curtain of sweat off his forehead, as if he were making himself presentable to her.

Dark hair and sparkling brown eyes under thick eyebrows—that was what she remembered most. Pete had red hair and freckles.

They were different as two brothers could be.

Both were a little skinny, but the war had taken a toll on most of the boys coming back.

It wouldn’t take long to get the muscle back on them, Mama had said, but it would take years longer to get the haunted look out of their eyes.

“They were hard workers, getting to the house early and sometimes sleeping in the barn at night if they worked an extra-long day. Fred and me, we started looking at each other all the time. It was like we couldn’t help ourselves.

But never once did we have a conversation alone.

” Beulah felt the tears fill her eyes. “I was so sad when that last leaf of tobacco was hung in the barn. I thought I would never see Fred again. I watched them leave from the upstairs window of the house, until they disappeared behind the trees on Gibson Creek Road.”

Beulah took a long drink of the tea. “That night at supper, I was so low I had to look up to see a snake’s belly.

Daddy said, ‘Beuly, there’s no sense in mopin’ around.

That boy’ll be back around here before the month is out.

’” Beulah chuckled. “He was right. Fred came a courtin’ the next weekend, all cleaned up and combed so that I barely knew him. ”

“It was no time at all until we knew we wanted to marry, but I was not quite fifteen and had more schooling left. Daddy said I had to wait until after I graduated from high school. Education was important to him, since he didn’t get past the eighth grade.

We agreed, but the day after graduation, I was married in the yard of the stone house.

” Beulah felt a tear slide down her cheek.

“I had no idea the house had all that family history,” Annie said.

“Honey, the stone house has been in my family for six generations. This house was part of a tract my Daddy bought when he added this front section. Fred and I moved here when we got married, and after Mama and Daddy passed, we rented out the stone house.

Late that afternoon, Beulah poured hot water into the teapot and called for Annie.

Her grandchild was deep into one of Janice Holt Giles’s books, a local author who wrote about the Kentucky frontier, long since dead.

The back porch had become Annie’s favorite reading place when she wasn’t busy working around the house or outbuildings.

“I wanted to talk to you before I go in for this surgery tomorrow. Sit down here a minute.”

Her granddaughter sat down, a serious look on her face.

“I want to make sure you know how things stand if something happens to me tomorrow,” Beulah started.

“Oh, Grandma, nothing is going to happen to you. It’ll be fine!”

Beulah covered Annie’s hand with her own.

“It probably will be, but we need to have this talk anyway. There’s a lockbox under my bed behind the shotgun.

The key to it is taped inside my medicine cabinet door.

A copy of the will and all my account numbers and life insurance policy are in there—everything you need to know when I die to handle all the paperwork. ”

“Grandma, you’re not going to die.”

“Maybe not this time, but if we have this conversation now, it will make it easier on you when I do go. It may not be tomorrow, but it will be someday.” Beulah took a drink of her tea while Annie sat quietly, waiting.

“I’m leaving ten percent of my estate to the church.

There should be more than enough cash in the life insurance policy to handle that.

The rest will go to you, including the farm.

It’s all paid for, and I’ve squirreled away a nice sum down at the bank.

It doesn’t provide much cash flow for running the farm, but Joe pays a good amount for the lease in January, and between my social security and interest on the CDs, I’ve been able to manage.

The farm will be yours to do whatever you wish with it.

” Beulah smoothed out the wrinkles in the orange apron.

“Of course, I would love for you to keep the farm and live on it, but I know that’s unlikely.

If you decide to sell it, it would be my preference that you give Jake a fair price on it and first option.

If Jake turns it down, I’d like you to offer it to Joe and Betty next.

If neither family wants it, you are free to sell it to whoever you wish at whatever price you wish. ”

“I had no idea how much history was here. I mean, I’ve been to the cemetery a hundred times, read the names on the stones, but somehow I never connected it all.”

“I’d love to see you keep it, of course.

But if you marry a man you meet up North, it’s likely he would rather have the cash so you can buy something there.

And it’s hard to maintain a farm when you’re not here to see after it.

Joe or Jake might be glad to farm it for you, but it won’t be the same as having someone live here. ”

Annie was quiet the rest of the night, and Beulah was sorry to have laid such heavy talk on her. It had to be done sooner than later, and the surgery tomorrow was a good reason to do it sooner.

Beulah readied herself for bed, pulling on her nightgown and opening up her Bible to read after she pulled the covers around her. After a bit she closed the book, set it on the nightstand, and turned off the bedside lamp.

In the dark, her mind went over a verse she memorized as a child, First Peter 5:7: Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. Meditating on that sweet thought, she fell asleep.