She unwound herself from the canvas and got out of the wagonbed. Daisy had eaten everything around her and strained at her rope, so she dragged all the bedding out of the wagon and dropped it in front of the mule, who seemed pleased enough to see it.

“Iffen y’all’re gonna wash up, it’s private up that-a-way,” Jeb said, nodding toward where the crick cut through the trees. She hesitated a moment, remembering the incident with the wood last night, then took the canvas to dry off with and her bundle from home with her. Iffen I see anythin’, I can scream, she decided.

She got a good scrub without taking more off than her dress. Her comb was in the bundle, so she was able to tidy her hair and rebraid it. Not as good as Ma could, but good enough. She was old enough to put her hair up, of course, but they couldn’t afford hairpins, and Pa hadn’t been able to find any bits of wire to fashion into pins for her the way he had for Ma, so she kept her hair in braids like a child. She’d tried to make pins with bits of this and that, mostly garden stuff, but they always broke or were too slippery to work.

There was no hint of anything out in the woods but the things that ought to be there, but she hurried over her wash and got back to Jeb quickly. Grace said, breakfast over, fish bones and corn shucks buried (Daisy ate the cobs with gusto), fire put out with water and the dead coals buried, they were on their way again.

3

THIS was not farmland. This was real forest. Once they got out of sight of the couple of cabins near the shoreline—and she guessed the people living there were probably more fishers than farmers—there was nothing on either side of the road but trees. She kept taking deep breaths of the air, because after Soddy, it was absolutely intoxicating. She realized with a sense of wonder and surprise that she had literally never felt as good as this in her entire life.

Maybe she was getting better? Maybe she could stay until fall with Aunt Jinny, then go home? If she felt like this, she could do anything Ma asked her to do—all the garden work, and go out a-foraging, and help with the housework! Why, feeling this good, she might could get a little extra money by working in the kitchen of one of the mine owners or foremen! Last night’s alarm seemed ridiculous now. The firewood? She’d likely misremembered, and each time had just gone farther than she’d thought. The eyes? Tree frogs, more than like. And mice, there were mice everywhere, the Good Lord knew. She’d just never seen eyes shine in the dark like that, but they were probably reflecting the campfire. And of course it seemed as if there were more of them than there actually were, because she was so scared.