Chapter 20

Mira wasn't sure if her heart beat so madly because of the pounding on the door or because of the nearness of Gordon. She had given herself over to his embrace when the noise startled her.

He kept his arms around her even after it seemed that any second the door might crash open. Then he brushed his lips across her forehead before, with a disappointed sigh, he sat up and jerked on his shoes. "First thing Monday I'm putting shutters on those windows."

"Windows?" Mira jerked around to see faces pressed against the windowpanes. She scrambled up off the floor and tied the sash of her robe tighter. "They won't hurt us, will they?"

The hammering on the door was joined by clanging noises outside, along with whoops and yells.

"Not intentionally." Gordon stood up beside her. "Actually, being serenaded on your wedding night is a way they show affection for their family and friends. But you might not find any of it enjoyable." He looked worried as he peered down toward her.

"What should I do?"

"Keep smiling even if they bring out the wheelbarrow."

"Wheelbarrow?"

"Sometimes they insist the groom take the bride for a ride down the road in a wheelbarrow."

"You have to be kidding." Outside the yells were louder. Dogs barked and howled.

"Afraid not. But if we can handle it with grace, that might go a long way to you getting a good beginning here. They might understand if you refuse to take part, but they can be more than insistent. Sometimes they don't take no for an answer." He looked from her to the door, where the insistent thumping continued. "I'd better go talk to them before they break in the door."

She hesitated, wanting to trail after him, while at the same time not wanting to be anywhere near whoever was outside. At the last second before Gordon opened the door, she snatched up the blanket and pillow off the floor and ran to pitch them on the bed. If only she could see somewhere to hide, but from the sound of the men storming through the front door, hiding would be futile.

She barely had time to send up a frantic prayer before Gordon was in the bedroom's doorway to bar the way of several men. Even though the light was dim, she had no trouble seeing the men's grins as they peeked past Gordon.

"Come on, Preacher. We gotta see the little woman." The men grabbed Gordon's arms to yank him away from the door. They stared at Mira and whistled. "You done gone and got you a pretty little thing."

Two of the men pushed Gordon back to keep him from stopping two others from coming into the bedroom.

Gordon sent an apologetic look toward Mira as he said, "Easy, boys. She's a city girl and not used to all this rowdy carrying on."

"We ain't aiming on hurtin' her. We just gonna let you take her for a little ride in the moonlight. Be right romantic." One of the men holding Gordon laughed.

The two who confronted Mira didn't look much older than some of the boys she'd taught in Louisville. Time to quit running scared and take some control of what happened. She squared her shoulders and held out her hand to stop them before they reached for her. "Preacher Gordon says you want to serenade us. So which of you is singing?"

She almost laughed as they gave each other a confused look.

One of them said, "I don't know nothing about any singing."

"You do know that is what serenade means." She gave them a stern look and they backed up a step.

A man yelled from the other room. "Come on, boys. Let's get on with it. The sun's liable to be up afore we're done if'n you keep draggin' yore feet."

The two young men moved toward her again, but without enthusiasm. She smiled at them, understanding their dilemma. "Tell you what. You take one arm"—she looked at the boys—"you take the other, and you can escort me outside. Looks like a beautiful night."

The taller boy gingerly put his hand on her arm. "No use you fightin' us."

"Why would I want to fight two strong boys like you?" she said. "But I do wish one of you would sing something. Don't you know any mountain songs?"

"I know plenty," the younger-looking boy said. "My ma, she commences to singing in the morning soon's she gets up and keeps on most of the day."

"I can't wait to hear her. What's her name?" Mira smiled over at Gordon and the two older men as they moved past them toward the front door.

"Hallie. Hallie Shelton."

"And your names? If I'm going to be walking barefoot out into the snow with a couple of boys, I should at least know your names."

The boy who talked about his mother said, "I'm Vernon." He nodded toward the other boy. "That one's Billy Ray."

"All right." Mira stopped at the door. "Since I don't have on any shoes, Vernon and Billy Ray, you two can carry me across the snow to this means of conveyance you intend Preacher Gordon to push me around in."

"Conveyance?" one of the men behind them said. "What kind of word is that?"

Gordon laughed. "She is a schoolteacher."

When the two boys looked unsure of exactly what to do, Mira showed them how to grasp each other's arms to make a way to carry her. They bent over to let her perch on the makeshift seat. She put her arms around their necks. "Let's go, boys. The people are waiting."

The men behind them made a snort of amusement or perhaps irritation. One of them said, "Preacher, I think you might have brung home some trouble for yoreself with this one."

Mira hid her smile when Gordon answered the man. "Trouble can bring with it a blessing sometimes."

Outside, whoops and catcalls greeted them. The waxing moon coupled with the snow-covered ground kept the night light enough to see.

People crowded around the porch. Some boys peered down from a tree and a few men watched on horseback. Children ran helter-skelter around in the snow. Yells came from all sides. In a barking frenzy, two dogs ran up to the boys carrying her. She pulled up her feet to keep away from any snapping teeth.

Mira forced a big smile on her face. While she felt as though she'd landed somewhere on the other side of the world instead of just on the other side of the state, she intended to hide that. She didn't want to lose any chance of gaining her future students' respect or friendship on her first night in Sourwood.

The wooden wheelbarrow, a rickety-looking affair, had a good layer of snow in it. She considered insisting it be dumped but thought that might be pushing the boys' forbearance too much. She wouldn't freeze with her layers of petticoats and the robe before this whole foolish ordeal was over.

Laughs sounded all around when the boys jerked their arms out from under her and without ceremony dropped her into the wheelbarrow. She supposed they needed to save a little face after transporting her like a princess to her carriage.

She didn't let her smile waver. In fact, when she looked behind her to see the men ushering Gordon off the porch toward her, her smile turned into laughter. It was all so ridiculously silly. The whole week had been one unbelievable thing after another, from Gordon's audacious proposal to her even more audacious insistence later on the train that they marry.

In a few short days, she'd gone from being a prim spinster schoolteacher to a new bride in her petticoats sitting in a wheelbarrow that didn't look sturdy enough to hold the snow in it, much less her. With only her stockings on, her feet were freezing. She laughed about that too. She'd rarely given anyone a glimpse of her ankles, and certainly never her toes.

If only Miss Ophelia could see this. She might join in with the noisemaking. The thought of Miss Ophelia shouting and banging two pan lids together made Mira laugh more. She pulled up the edge of her robe to wipe laughter tears off her cheeks without even thinking about the ankles she might be revealing.

Several women, snuggly wrapped in cloaks, stood a little back from the wheelbarrow. Some were smiling while others stared at Mira as if not quite sure what to make of her.

Mira could say the same of them, but that wasn't really true. She had met many women with children, and while looks, speech, and dress were different, people were people. She wanted to tell them that, but freezing in a pile of petticoats in a wheelbarrow didn't make the best soapbox. So, she just kept laughing.

One of the women frowned. "What's wrong with her?"

An older-looking woman shook her head. "I'm thinking the preacher must have give his missus a swig of moonshine."

Their moonshine had nothing to do with the moonlight falling around her. Thinking that brought a new fit of laughter.

"I'd be a mite surprised were that the case. Preacher can't abide the stuff. Always after the menfolk to pour it out," another woman answered. "Could be she's feelin' merry because she's married."

"True enough," the first woman agreed. "She ain't all that young. Into her twenties, I'm reckoning. Preacher must have took pity on her."

Considered an old maid without hope at twenty-five. Mira tried to stifle her laughter, but another giggle escaped. Hadn't she considered herself a lifelong spinster before last week?

"Are you all right, Mira?" Gordon looked concerned as he leaned close to speak to her. He probably thought she was having hysterics.

Maybe she was. She nodded as she grabbed the sides of the barrow. "I'm ready for a ride."

The road, if one could call it that, was frozen ruts with plenty of even rougher rocks. More than once she thought she might bounce right out of the wheelbarrow as Gordon pushed her past the church and a building he said would be the school.

One room. She looked around at the children trailing them. One room wouldn't hold them all.

Joseph ran along beside Gordon. She looked for Ada June and finally caught sight of her on the other side of the little valley. She and the dog beside her weren't much more than shadows against the trees, but Mira knew it was her. Maybe because the girl looked as alone as Mira had felt earlier.

No way could she feel alone now with all the people needling Gordon as he pushed the wheelbarrow. Mira tucked her feet under her robe in a vain attempt to warm her toes. She kept her smile, but the laughter was gone, frozen out by the cold and the sight of that lone figure.

Back at the house, she hoped everybody would leave after their fun. But even before Gordon lifted her out of the wheelbarrow, several women went up the porch steps and in the door. No invitation needed, it seemed.

Gordon carried her to the porch, which started up a new round of whoops. "You're freezing." He set her down on the porch steps. "I'm sorry about this."

"It's all a little strange, but then what hasn't been this last week?" She kept her voice low as another woman pushed past her up the steps to go inside. "Are they all going to go in with us?"

"Just a few women. The men will hang around out here."

When she went up on the porch, he didn't follow her. "Aren't you coming?"

"Not unless you need me to."

She heard the reluctance in his voice. "I guess you are supposed to stay out here while I face the mountain woman jury."

"They all love you already."

"They think I'm definitely odd and that you only married me because you took pity on this hopeless spinster."

Gordon laughed. "You are an old bride by Sourwood standards." He leaned close to whisper. "If they knew the whole story, they might be even more surprised."

"That can be our secret."

Joseph pulled on Gordon's arm. "Preacher, the men are some worried that you ain't givin' them anything to drink."

"If they're thirsty, water will have to do." Gordon looked down at the boy. "They know I don't keep the hard stuff."

"I reckon so, but no cider or nothin'?"

"I bought a load of candy in case this happened. I'll get it and you can hand it out." Gordon gave him a stern look. "But you can't try to keep it all to yourself the way I heard you did your peppermint earlier today."

Joseph peeked over at Mira. "I reckon she done told you ever'thing I done."

"Was there more to tell?" Gordon frowned at the boy, then looked at Mira. "Mira?"

She kept any hint of a smile off her face. She knew what was worrying Joseph, but they did have an agreement. "I did tell him you didn't want to share the peppermint, but I also told him what a fine fire builder you were. Anything else you think he needs to know, you'll have to tell him yourself."

"I don't reckon I know of nothin' else." The boy looked down and shuffled his feet.

"I know if I don't get inside, my toes are going to break off." Mira turned toward the door.

"Hey, Preacher, we're gettin' mighty thirsty," one of the men called.

"The spring's right over there." Gordon pointed.

Another man called out. "You want us to get them wimmen outa there so's you and the little woman can have some lonesome time together?"

That started up all the uproar and laughter again. The way things were going, nobody was going to get any sleep before sunrise.

"Come on, Joseph. I know where he stashed the candy." Mira glanced back at the boy. "You can bring it out to Preacher Gordon. He better stay out here and deal with these scalawags."

And she would just have to deal with whatever the women inside had waiting for her.