The Saints of Swallow Hill(64)

Cornelia in turn stared at Rae Lynn’s hand on her arm. She touched the stub where her finger was missing.

“What happened here?”

Rae Lynn pulled her hand away. Tucked it under the sheet.

“It was an accident. Happened years ago.”

Cornelia sighed and said, “It don’t matter nohow. They’s only the marks of life, showing what we been through.” She leaned back to study Rae Lynn, tipping her head to the left. “And, here I was thinking you was a man! After I brung you the pie, I thought, he sure is sweet looking compared to most.”

Rae Lynn gave her a little smile. “Well, I should’ve known it won’t the smartest thing to do, maybe. They’ll probably want me to leave here, and soon.”

“We ain’t gonna worry about that right now. Peewee’s a reasonable man. Now, Crow? He’s the one to worry over. Thinks he’s running things.”

Rae Lynn flinched at the thought of Crow, of facing him again. Maybe he’d be different, but she somehow doubted it.

She said, “Peewee might say it’s my own fault. You know, lying to him and all.”

Cornelia turned a sage eye to her and said, “I bet you had your reasons. We always do what we have to do, what’s necessary, don’t we?”

Women folk, is who Cornelia meant. They were most often the ones to bend, sometimes until they broke. Or got broken. She believed with all her heart in that moment, she and Cornelia would get along just fine. Rae Lynn felt an instant kinship. She ought to tell her who she was at least. She was real understanding. Seemed real trustworthy, and already a friend.

Rae Lynn said, “My name?”

Cornelia smiled and said, “What, don’t tell me. It ain’t Rae Cobb? ”

Rae Lynn shifted in the bed. “Well, it is, but it’s actually Rae Lynn. Rae Lynn Cobb.”

Cornelia smiled big. “Ain’t that something,” she said.

“Call me Rae Lynn.”

“Well, all right.”

She got up and went to stand by the door. “Now you need anything, you use the pull cord. I’ll be back at dinnertime to fix you something to eat.”

“Okay.”

They established a rhythm over the next few days and Cornelia didn’t pry her with any more questions. Bit by bit, Rae Lynn was up and moving about, Cornelia’s nightgown hanging off her and reaching to her toes. The other woman was a bit taller and a few pounds heavier. She went from the bed to the chair and back to the bed for a while, until one day, she sat in the chair by the window for most of a morning watching the comings and goings of the camp. She was taking care of herself once again and felt almost normal. She wished she had her clothes, but couldn’t seem to find them anywhere. She went and checked around to the backside of the house, where she found the laundry pan and a washboard. A couple of Otis’s shirts hung drying on a line; the dress Cornelia had made from the material Otis burned a hole in, it hung there too. She wanted to take it and put it on, so she’d be decent, except it seemed rude to assume such was all right. Cornelia might think it had to do with the fact she’d paid for it, so she stayed in the gown for now.

In the late afternoon Cornelia came in from the commissary and found her in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist over the nightgown, cooking supper. Cornelia always came home a bit early to cook while Otis stayed at the commissary finishing up. She stood in the doorway, arms filled with a sack of flour, sugar, and beans for the pantry.

Surprised, she said, “My, oh my. Look at this. You ain’t supposed to be doing such, you ain’t well enough!”

Rae Lynn carried a platter full of fried cured ham over to the table and set it down. She wiped off her forehead and stood by the set table with her hands on her hips.

She said, “I’m feeling fine.”

Cornelia said, “I declare. You done fried ham, made rice and red-eye gravy, and field peas. Look at them biscuits, high and fluffy as a cloud. This sure looks mighty fine.”

Rae Lynn said, “I was about to go stir-crazy laying around. It feels good to cook again. I used to . . .”

She stopped and put a hand to her mouth. All of a sudden she felt the heavy sadness come over her again as she remembered her and Warren’s suppers together. She’d not allowed herself the luxury of those memories. Cornelia watched Rae Lynn, a question on her face.

She said, “Used to . . . what?”

Rae Lynn swallowed hard. “Cook.”

Cornelia’s focus on her sharpened. “You all right? You look upset. Maybe you done too much.”

“It’s . . . I was just thinking about how much I liked to cook for someone other than myself.”

“Well, I can see you’re a mighty fine one too.”

“Cornelia?”

Cornelia had gone over to the table with the food, looking as pleased as could be. “Um-hmm?”

“Where’s my clothes? I’d feel so much better if I could get dressed.”

Cornelia said, “I’d have got you something if I’d known you was going to be getting around so soon. I had to burn them things a yours. I couldn’t get the, you know, your monthly had come on. I couldn’t get the stain out. It got on the backside of the shirt too. I’m real sorry.”

“Do y’all have anything over to the commissary that might fit?”