Title: Trouble an' Heartache Sequel to Eye of the Sparrow Author: Debbie H. Note: This story picks up where "Eye of the Sparrow" left off. Bird's-Eye is released from prison, and he and Lundy begin their relationship anew. Lundy continues to court his sweetheart, Zady. Disclaimer: The characters in this story were created by Catherine Marshall in her novel, Christy, the copyright of which is owned by the LeSourd Family. This story has been written for entertainment purposes only. Any additional characters were created by the author. PART ONE: FREEDOM Lundy stepped away from his workbench and surveyed the cavern. It was ready. Everything was in its place. Several sawhorses were stacked in the corner; his tools were neatly arranged on the workbench; numerous pieces of lumber rested on the shelves that used to store liquor. The young man nodded his head in satisfaction. His father was coming home today, and Lundy wanted everything to be perfect. ****** Bird's-Eye lay on his bunk, watching the early morning sun stream through the small window of the cell he shared with his blockading associates, Jake and Bart. He was looking forward to tomorrow, when he would awaken to sunlight through a window that left no shadow of iron bars on the floor. It was time to go home! Today he was going to be free! The thought made the convicted and reformed blockader grin. And he wasn't just returning to an empty cabin; his boy was waiting for him. Lundy! Bird's-Eye could hardly believe what a fortunate turn his life had taken since that miserable day when he shot Creed Allen. He had to almost kill a young boy to realize the need of his soul. Sure he'd just spent the last six months in jail, but no one could imprison his mind, or his spirit. The purpose of life was not to sustain his physical being; it was to know and love the God who had created him and who loved him, even in the depths of his sinfulness. Bird's-Eye now knew that he could endure any circumstances, any hardship, because his Heavenly Father was with him. With that attitude, he was able to see prison as an opportunity to purge himself of the desire for moonshine and immerse himself in the Word of God. The mountain man had done those two things, and now was anxiously awaiting the familiar footsteps of Herbert MacDonald, the guard who would set him free. "You up, Bird's-Eye?" Bart pulled on the blanket of the bunk above him. "Aye. Ye reckon yore ready to go home, Bart?" Bird's-Eye responded. "Guess so," came the muffled reply. "Don't rightly know what I'm a-gonna be doin', though. Figger it mought be time t' look fer a job in the city. I shore don't aim t' do ony more blockadin'. Six months in jail...... Law! Hit's a mighty long time." The two men heard a cynical snort from the bed on the opposite wall. "You fellers air somethin' else," the lump under the covers growled. "Talkin' all high an' mighty. Like yore too good to run a little corn squeezin's down the moun-tain." Jake threw the blanket off and sat up. "I say ye'll both be back t' stillin' ‘fore the leaves fall off'n the trees," he challenged. "Ye're wrong, Jake." Bird's-Eye looked his cell mate in the eye. "I'm a diff'rent man than I was. I got m' boy back. And I ain't a-gonna loose ‘im agin." He shook his head earnestly. "Liqour don't bring nothin' but trouble an' heartache. An' I done already had enough o' both o' them things." ****** For several minutes, Bird's-Eye stood in the front yard of the Lyleton jail with his eyes closed as he let the warm August sun touch his face. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air of freedom fill his lungs. Then with a smile that spread from ear to ear, the highlander gripped the old leather book in his hands and headed toward the range of mountains that was his home. ****** Zady Spencer stirred the mixture bubbling in the large pot over the fire. She walked to the table and nervously rearranged the bowls and spoons she had placed there just moments ago. The teenage girl opened the door of the pot-bellied stove and sniffed the mouth-watering scent of baking cornbread. Today was a special day for Lundy, and she wanted to do her part to make it go smoothly. "Shore smells good, Zady." the brown-haired girl jumped as she heard the voice behind her. Lundy had entered the room so quietly, she had not heard his footsteps. "Reckon this ole cabin ain't had cookin' like your'n in it since heck was a pup." Zady smiled appreciatively at her beau. Lundy's heart skipped a beat as those big, brown eyes swallowed him up. He laughed nervously. "Wisht Paw'd hoof it on up hare. I'm hongry as a she ba'ar come spring-time." "If'n you be-have, I reckon it won't hurt fer ye to have a smidgeon o' cornbread when it's done," Zady teased. "Oh, I'll be good," the young man promised. He added, "whilst we're a-waitin' why don't we go traipsin'? Thar's somethin' I'm a-wantin' to show ye." "Waal," Zady opened the oven door and eyed the cornbread carefully. "Cornbread won't be done fer a while. ‘Spose we could go fer a spell." The young couple exited the cabin and walked toward the creek. Lundy glanced furtively at the girl walking beside him. His heart ached with the desire to take her small hand in his, but he didn't want to appear too forward. He planned to court Zady and make her his wife, and he wasn't about to take any action that might scare her away. Zady was unaware of the struggle taking place in the silent man next to her. She wondered why he was so quiet. Had she done something to displease him? She cleared her throat cautiously. "Reckon th' leaves'll be turnin' afore too long." "Hm?" Lundy asked distractedly. "I said, reckon th' leaves'll be turnin' afore too long," she repeated loudly. "I do somethin' wrong, Lundy?" she asked with a wrinkle in her brow. Surprised, Lundy stopped walking and turned to face his sweetheart. "Wrong? You ain't done onything wrong. Everwhat makes ye think so?" Zady sighed with relief. "Waal. Ye're awful quiet-like....... You still like me don't ye?" "‘Course I do!" he exclaimed. If only he could express the intensity of his feelings for her! He reached for her hand, but then restrained himself. His hand dropped quickly to his side. "I ain't never knowed a girl like ye, Zady. I like you better'n onything. When I get quiet-like, hits ‘cause....... hits ‘cause....... I jest cain't believe ye're here....... with me." He dug his toe into the dirt and studied the ground. "Hits what I was hopin' for all that time I was in Knox-ville." "You mean ye wore thinkin' on me whilst ye was gone?" she asked. "Aye. Hardly could think of onything else." He laughed and held up both of his hands. "I'm a lucky feller that I still got all my fingers! Onct ‘r twice I coulda sawed my thumb clean off, thinkin' about you, ‘stead of m' work." Zady giggled. She felt special indeed. Lundy liked her so much that he couldn't help thinking about her! All that time, she'd been pining over her mysterious stranger, and it was Lundy! She was amazed that they were walking together right now. The two teenagers crossed the creek and hiked up a steep hill. Lundy reached the top, then turned toward Zady. She was struggling to climb the ridge. The young man swallowed, then held out his sweaty palm to her. Gratefully she took it, and he pulled her to summit. He squeezed her hand gently, then reluctantly released it. The pair drank in the awesome view. Below them, Deer Valley was lush and green; a patch of brilliant golden wild flowers beckoned them. In the distance, range upon range of mountains folded behind one another. "You like this spot, Zady?" Lundy whispered. Zady pulled her eyes away from the amazing vista. Lundy was looking at her as though she were as beautiful as the mountains they surveyed. "Hits beauteous," she breathed. "Reckon I mought build me a cabin here one day," Lundy began matter-of-factly. "Be a right-good spot for the car-pentry bizness..... not fur from the mill; thar's a good sarvice road yan..... Think a gal'd have a hankerin' t' live in a cabin on this-here spot?" Zady's face blushed a deep pink. "Guess most gal-women'd be right proud t' keep house here, with a lookout over this-away......." her hand swept out over the magnificent landscape. She nodded. "It'd be right nice, I reckon." Lundy turned to face the young woman. Cautiously he took her hand in his. He stepped closer to her. He could smell the faint scent of lavender in her hair. The young woman with the fathomless brown eyes looked up at him with...... with what? Longing? Trust? Love? All three. Lundy licked his lips and swallowed. His heart was pounding in his ears. She looked like she wanted him to kiss her, he thought. Irresistibly, he found himself drawn toward her. He closed his eyes and tentatively touched his lips to hers. In wide-eyed surprise, the teenagers looked at each other. Zady's voice quivered as she said, "We'd best be a-lookin' in on the cornbread, yonder." She turned and scurried down the hill. Lundy noticed her pink ears as he watched her disappear. The exhilaration he felt from his first kiss faded abruptly. "Consarned fool!" he chided himself as he dejectedly followed the path that Zady had taken. "Let yore guard down fer one minit, an' ye done scairt ‘er away." He kicked a small rock on the path. "Ain't no need to build no cabin now, you sorry wretch." He put his hands to his head in agony. "Oh, Law! What've I done?" Title: Trouble an' Heartache Part 2 Author: Debbie H. Summary: Bird's-Eye is released from jail PART TWO: HOMECOMING As he trudged up the hill toward home, Lundy wondered if Zady would be there. If she was there, what would he say to her? What *could* he say to her? But if she was gone....... Well, he just couldn't think about that. A board squeaked as he walked up the steps. The young man felt beads of sweat form across his brow. Cautiously, he pushed open the door. Would she be there? He was almost afraid to look. Zady stopped stirring the stew. "Hits all ready. Reckon yore paw'll be along soon?" Lundy let out a long sigh when he heard that musical voice. He didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath. "Dunno," he replied, "but didn't ye promise me some cornbread onyways?" The brown-haired girl turned toward the stove. "I tole ye you could have some..... if'n ye was goo-ood......." Lundy's heart sank into his stomach. He knew what she meant. "Aw, Zady. Look-a-here. ‘Bout what happened yon, I'm..... I'm real sorry. Jest couldn't holp it." The young woman turned to look at Lundy. Her eyes softened as she saw the pleading look he gave her. "Ken ye ever forgive me? Hit won't happen agin....... vow and declare," he pledged with his right hand held over his heart. Zady enjoyed watching Lundy squirm. She wasn't actually angry about what happened. She was more surprised, or maybe even confused. Who would have ever imagined that a simple kiss could send shivers down her spine and all the way to her toes? She put her hands on her hips and regarded Lundy with mock severity. "Waaaal......." Zady dragged the word out for several seconds, feigning indecisiveness. "Awright," she nodded. "I'll forgive ye this once. Now, you ready fer some cornbread? Hit's mama's special recipe." Lundy smacked his lips, relieved at Zady's forgiveness. At that moment, a familiar voice called from the bottom of the hill. "Hit's Paw!" the teenager ran to the door. "Paw!" He leapt down the steps and ran to greet his father. He was about to throw his arms around the mountain man in a giant bear hug when he remembered that he was no longer a little boy, but a grown man. Holding his hand out, Lundy said, "Howdy, Paw!" Bird's-Eye was at a loss for words as he shook his son's hand firmly. "Hey thar, boy," he choked. The two men looked each other in the eye, unable to express their joy at reuniting. Lundy let go of his father's hand and motioned toward the cabin. "Zady's been a-cookin' up a storm all mornin'. Hope ye're hongry." "Aye," Bird's-Eye replied as they walked up the hill. "Reckon I could et a whole hawg jest now." He grinned at the young man and elbowed him in the ribs. "So Zady Spencer's been a-cookin' fer ye, eh?" he teased. Lundy cleared his throat, trying to think of a clever response to his father's teasing. Fortunately, the cabin door opened, and Zady appeared. "Howdy, Mr. Taylor," she called. The group entered the cabin. Bird's-Eye stood in the doorway and looked around the room. He was home at last! He could hardly believe it. Lundy was there..... and happy to see him. It was almost too good to be true. "Somethin' shore smells tantalizin'," he said to Zady. The young woman colored slightly. "You want some vittles, Mr. Taylor?" she asked as she ladled some rabbit stew into three wooden bowls. "Fer shore and sartain I do!" Bird's-Eye exclaimed as he patted his belly and sat down. He ran his hand over the smooth surface of the reconstructed table-top. "You done some fine work, here, son," he said approvingly. Zady placed a bowl in front of the mountain man and passed the plate of cornbread to him. Bird's-Eye grabbed his spoon and eagerly dug into the stew. "If Zady's half the cook Fairlight is........" he thought with anticipation. He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. Zady and Lundy looked at him expectantly. "Mmmm," he said with more enthusiasm than he felt. There was a little too much of something and not enough of something else, but it was far better than the sauerkraut he would have cooked for dinner. "Right tasty vittles, these. Ain't had nothin' but prison food fer a coon's age." ****** The afternoon was a pleasant one. Several residents of the Cove stopped by the Taylors' cabin to welcome Bird's-Eye home. Among the first visitors were Christy, Alice and David. "We thought you men would need some sustenance," Miss Alice said holding a basket in her hands as the trio entered the cabin, "but it appears that Zady has the situation in hand." Christy smiled encouragingly at the young woman, who blushed at Alice's praise. "Glad to have you home, Bird's-Eye," David said shaking the mountain man's hand. "Shore feels good, Preacher!" came the reply. "Land sakes! Six months ken shore be a long time when ye're locked up in the jail-house. Gives a fella time to do a heap o' thinkin' though." Bird's-Eye looked at Christy, adding, "and readin'." He pointed to the Bible on the table. "Read that whole in-tire book thar, ever' word," he said proudly. "Sounds like those reading lessons paid off," David commented. He couldn't decide if he was more impressed by Bird's-Eye's reading the Bible in six months or by Christy's teaching the ignorant man to read. "I hope thee gained some new insight," Alice stated. The highlander nodded. "Reckon so. Thar's some right pow'rful words in that thar book." ****** Later in the afternoon, Rob, Bob and Creed Allen dropped by to offer to help the Taylors with the carpentry business. Bird's-Eye studied Bob carefully. "You reckon we ken work together, Bob, atter what-all's happent betwixt us?" "Let's don't dig up old cats, now," the miller replied. "We're a startin' off with a clean slate here. If'n we didn't figger that we could work t'gether, me an' the boys wouldn' a come." Bird's-Eye patted Creed on the head and grinned. The vote of confidence from his former enemy made Bird's-Eye more determined than ever to live up to the new standard of honest living that he had set for himself. Little did he realize that the days ahead would require all the determination he could muster. ****** Lundy carried the empty basket as he walked Zady home that afternoon. The young woman chattered gaily. "Nary did see onybody eat as much as you ‘n yore paw. Why, the two o' you'uns et ev'ry bit an' grain o' that thar stew. Cain't rightly figure how you-all air gonna keep from starvin' plumb t' death." "Ain't ye gonna bring us vittles ever' day?" the blonde boy joked. Zady playfully punched him in the arm. "Ye're a rapscallion, Lundy Taylor." She looked up at the boy walking beside her. Lundy felt his stomach do a somersault. He wanted so badly to take her hand, but he remembered his promise, and resolutely kept his hand at his side. ****** Meanwhile, Bird's-Eye sat in the rocking chair on the porch, enjoying his first afternoon of freedom. A dark cloud crossed over his features, however, when he saw a man with worn overalls and a rusty felt hat climbing the hill toward the cabin. It was his old business partner, Nathan O'Teale. "Howdy thar, Bird's-Eye!" the visitor called. He held up a jug. "Brought ye somethin' t' welcome ye home." He walked up the steps and set the jug on the floor. "Me an' Jake's been a-plannin' whar to sot up the new still. I spied out a good spot in the bresh over whar Blueberry Crik comes acrost Lonesome Pine Ridge." Bird's-Eye rocked silently. He dreaded the impending confrontation. "So?" Nathan asked. "What say ye?" Bird's-Eye looked blankly at his old friend. "I'm in th' car-pentry bizness now, Nate. Me an' Lundy's gonna make house plunder." "What!" Nathan spat. "You mean t'tell me yore not followin' stillin'?" he exclaimed incredulously. "A Taylor what ain't runnin' moonshine........ never heerd sech foolishness." "Waal, ye heerd it now. That thar whiskey ain't nothin' but trouble. Don't want it; don't need it. If'n ye're a-lookin' for a third man fer the still, ye'd best look elsewhars, ‘cause hit ain't me." There was finality in his voice. "Ol' Jake said ye was dif'rent. Said ye're always talkin' ‘bout religion and how ye got saved." Nathan laughed coldly. "Waal, ye ain't dif'rent. Ye're a Taylor. An' ever'body knows the Taylors and the O'Teales are the rip-snortinest sinners in the Cove. Jest take a swig o' that thar," he pointed to the jug, "an' tell me ye don't want it." Bird's-Eye crossed his arms and looked out over the horizon. For several seconds, the only sound was the gentle squeaking of the rocking chair. Finally, Nathan spoke up. "So that's yere answer, then?" The man in the rocking chair looked at his cousin. "Aye." Nathan turned abruptly and strode down the mountain. The jug sat on the porch, untouched. ****Tune in Sunday for Part Three when Bird's Eye answers the question, "Paw, why is it that folks say us Taylors are sech torn-down scoundrels?" Title: Trouble an' Heartache Sequel to Eye of the Sparrow Author: Debbie H. Summary: Bird's-Eye tells Lundy about his father and his own childhood. PART THREE - STONE TAYLOR After a light supper of the food from the mission house, the two Taylor men went outside. Bird's-Eye made himself comfortable in the rocking chair on the porch and Lundy sat on the top step. They listened to the crickets and told each other about their experiences of the past year. Lundy stopped his whittling and glanced at his father. "And Mr. Thompson, he tole me that I could be everwhat I sot my mind to. He was right, too, Paw, ‘cause I'm a car-penter, ain't I? An' I ken play the fiddle; only he called it a vi-o-lin..... And," he added with pride, "I'm a-courtin' Zady Spencer, purtiest gal in the whole Cove." "Aye, she is, Lundy," Bird's-Eye answered. "Seems right fond of ye, too. Them Spencers is good folks. Ye'd be doin' right well t' marry Zady." Lundy studied the small block of wood in his hand. "Paw, why is it that folks say us Taylors are sech torn-down scoundrels?. . . Is it the stillin'?" "Waal," Bird's-Eye said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Disremember how and when hit all started, but I ken tell ye ‘bout my own self, and my pap." Lundy leaned his back against the railing, settling in for a story. Bird's-Eye looked up into the starry sky, and his eyes grew hazy as his mind drifted back in time. "My pap, his name was Isaiah Taylor, but folks, they jest called ‘im Stone. He was . . ." "Stone?" Lundy interrupted. "Everwhat they call ‘im that fer?" Bird's-Eye shrugged. "Some say it's ‘cause he was cold ‘n hard, with a heart o' stone. Others say hit's ‘cause he could throw a rock an' hit a doe right spang betwixt the eyes at a hunnert paces. But then there's them thet say he got his name from drinkin' moonshine . . ." "And what do you think, Paw?" "I reckon all them things were right," came the sad reply. "Anyways, my pap, Stone Taylor, waal, he was a shifless varmint, he was. Had the notion to whup up on Maw ‘n me, oft as not. Thar was one night, I ken recollect it clear like hit was yestiddy. Pap, he come home from El Pano real late one night. Me an' Maw never knowed when he'd be a-comin' home. Sometimes he'd be gone months ‘thout nary a word. "So he come home in the black of night. Started hollerin' and a-carryin' on wantin' to know why thar warn't no supper a-waitin' for ‘im. Yanked Maw clean outen the bed. Lit into ‘er like a fox on a rabbit. Maw, she waren't farin' so good. Pap'd whupped me more'n once, so's I knowed what it was like. "Waaal, now, I weren't but fourteen then, and my paw, he was a big man. But atter a while, Maw stopped cryin'. Pap, though, he kep' right on. I was afeard she was dead, or might-nigh close. Grabbed the ol' hog-rifle. Put the barrel against Pap's forehead. Cocked that thar rifle ‘n told ‘im if'n he hit Maw one more time, I'd blow his head clean into North Car-lina. He laid off'n Maw then an' tromped out o' the cabin." "What happened to yore mama?" Lundy asked. "She warn't dead, but she was bodaciously ruint. Her arm was jerked outen ‘er shoulder. Blood was a-runnin' out her nose like Blueberry Crik come spring time - broke I reckon. Had a pump knot on her head. Now thar weren't ony doc in the Cove then, so I jest carried her t' the bed n' cleaned ‘er up best as I could. "Atter a coupla days, I knowed she was gonna be awright; figgered I better scoot. Pap'd be comin' home ony day now, and atter what I done, he'd be smokin' my britches shore as the world. Left jest in time, too. Hadn't hardly made it to the aidge o' the yard ‘fore I heerd him a-comin'. Weren't no time to run, so I jest peeled the bark off'n an old hick'ry log, scrooched down in thar, an' covered m'self over with the bark. "Pap, he searched ‘n searched. Never did find me. Peart-near broke my heart to hear Maw a-cryin'. Then I lit out fer the woods. Moved from place to place. Never slept the same spot twice. Swore I'd never touch nary a drop of that corn squeezin', seein' what'n'all it did to my Pap." Lundy interrupted him. "But......" "Jest hold on, boy," Bird's-Eye told him. He took a deep breath and continued the story. "Livin' off the land ain't easy-like with no gun an' no hope. Traipsed ‘round the mountains seven years. Put a hand to work some, here ‘n there. Stole a chicken once in a while. Wasn't a good livin', but it shore beat havin' my hide tanned. "Waal, one day I was down thar in Lyleton. Feller asked how'd I like to earn some cash-money. Hadn't eaten fer days, so I said I'd like that fine. Turns out, he wanted me to climb up t' the Cove an' pick up some moonshine. As he was a-tellin' me whar to go, I realized that he was tellin' me how to get to my own Pap's place. Got to studyin' on hit. Reckoned it was time to go home. Was missin' Maw somethin' fierce onyways. "Hit was a stormy ev'nin' when I fin'ly reached the Cove, a real chunk-washer. Pounded on the door, but the wind was a-blowin' so hard, they couldn't hear it. Atter a while, Maw she heerd me ‘n opened the door. Didn't know who I was. See, she reckoned a critter had got me. "Waal, seems I come home at a good time. Paw was stillin'. . . drinkin' almost as much as he made. But the fight was gone outen ‘im. Like as not, he'd set on the porch all the day long, jest sippin' on his jug; slept out thar some nights. Maw was scrapin' out a livin' for ‘em . . . growin' some garden sass thar in the yard. "‘Course hit was plain as day that they were a-starvin'. So I took over the stillin'. Gave Pap enough to keep ‘im quiet. Sold the rest. Got cash-money to buy some good vittles down thar in El Pano, new hog-rifle, too. "Things got better. Thar was enough to eat. Pap weren't so bad. Then Maw, she come down with the milk sickness. In no time a-tall, she was dead. Waal now, when she died, somethin' in me died, too. Weren't long afore I started tastin' that whiskey myself. Kinda took the pain away, stopped me from thinkin'. . . thinkin' things what hurt too much to remember. "It wasn't long atter that I married yore mama. Poor woman." Bird's-Eye shook his head with regret. "Didn't take long fer me to be like Pap. Drinkin' whiskey, whuppin' ‘er. The day yore mama birthed ye, I vowed never to touch another drop o' whiskey. "But that brew is poison, boy. ‘Tweren't but a week afore I was drinkin' it agin, worse'n ever. Cain't rightly tell ye how many times I tried to quit." Bird's-Eye leaned forward in his chair. "Look at me, boy. Don't ye ever start a-tippin' that jug. Hit'll drag ye down. An' once ye start, hit's nigh impossible to quit. Why it took th' Good Lord hisself to get me stopped." "You ain't gonna do it agin?" Lundy asked his father. "Naw. I swear it," Bird's-Eye answered earnestly. "Bein' in the jail-house yan, made me quit. Some days I like to of died for wantin' it. But thar warn't none. Atter a time I stopped cravin' hit. Found somethin' better in that thar Bible Miz Christy give me. I know I cain't take away all them bad things I done to you, Lundy . . . But I'm awful sorry." Lundy absently scraped his knife against the wood in his hand. "Hit's all right, Paw. Things air diff'rent now." Bird's-Eye smiled in the darkness. "Ye're a good boy, a real man-person now, and I'm right proud of ye." ****** Long after Lundy was asleep, Bird's-Eye sat in that chair, rocking slowly, wrestling with old demons that had not died, but had only been sleeping. The jug sat on the porch, untouched, but not forgotten. Title: Trouble an' Heartache Part 4 Sequel to Eye of the Sparrow Author: Debbie H. Summary: Bird's-Eye's willpower is tested. PART FOUR: THE TEST When Bird's-Eye awoke early the next morning, he was disoriented. Then he realized that he had fallen asleep in the rocking chair. He stood up stiffly and stretched. A loud snore came from inside the cabin. When the mountaineer entered the room, he saw the still form of his son lying on a corn-shuck mattress in the corner. Bird's-Eye poked Lundy with his toe. "C'mon, boy, we got work t' do," he said gruffly, trying to hide his excitement. A new day was dawning - not just in the Cove, but in Bird's-Eye's very life. He was going to learn a trade. For the first time in his life, he was going to have a way to earn a living....... without selling moonshine. And his own son was going to teach him. He poked Lundy again. Lundy rolled over and groaned. "What-er ye want, Pap?" The father clapped his hands. "We got work t' do. Yore gonna larn me how to be a car-penter, ‘member?" ****** By noon that day, the two men were so engrossed in their work that they didn't even notice the clamoring in their stomachs. Lundy was teaching his father how to make chair legs with the lathe. "Hit's real important t' put the wood on thar jest right. If'n ye don't, hit'll come out kinder crooked-like. See how I done that?" Lundy asked, taking a perfectly rounded piece from the lathe and handing it to his father. The men heard a faint call from above. They climbed the steps out of the cavern into the cabin. Lundy grinned foolishly as his eyes rested on the small figure of Zady Spencer. This was a pleasant surprise. She was holding a large, homemade basket. A tantalizing odor drifted across the room. "Maw holped me fry up some chickin," she said, lifting the lid. "Got some creamed corn...... ‘n sass. Figgered you fellers'd be hongry......." Suddenly Lundy felt the gnawing in his belly. "That's right nice o' ye, Zady," he said taking the basket from her. "Ye'll jine us, won't ye?" After the meal, Bird's-Eye pushed back his chair and patted his full stomach contentedly. "Now that hits whar ye ken hold it!" he exclaimed. Zady smiled as she stood to clear the table. She and Clara had been working hard, learning the culinary art from their mother. Although both had made considerable progress, no one in the Cove could prepare a meal like Fairlight Spencer. More than once, the mother told her girls that the secret to winning a man's heart was a hot, home-cooked meal. Zady had living proof right here. She could see the twinkle in Lundy's eyes when he looked at her, and it made her stomach tingle. The two men sat in satisfied silence as the young woman washed the dishes. Her soft humming was soothing to Lundy's ears. For the hundredth time that day, he thought about how nice it would be to have her as his wife. "Paw, reckon ye ken practice with the lathe whilst I carry Zady back t' her place?" the young man asked his father. "Why shorely," Bird's-Eye replied. "Nothin' to hit. You-all go on," he added waving toward the door. Lundy picked up the basket and grinned at his sweetheart. "C'mon, Zady. You mind if'n we stop off at th' mill? Got to talk with Rob ‘bout sawin' up some more lumber." The voices of the young couple faded as they walked down the hill. Bird's-Eye descended into the workshop. He carefully screwed a two-by-two into the arms of the lathe and began turning the crank that made the wood spin. The highlander mopped his brow and removed the wood from the lathe. In frustration, he threw yet another distorted chair leg to the ground. "Land sakes!" he muttered. "This here wood-workin' ain't easy." His shoulders sagged wearily as he climbed the steps into the cabin and walked out onto the porch. As he sank into the rocking chair with a sigh, his eyes rested on the jug that Nathan O'Teale had left there the day before. Nathan's voice rang in his ears, "Jest take a swig o' that thar, an' tell me ye don't want it........ tell me ye don't want it....... tell me ye don't want it....." "I *don't* want it!" Bird's-Eye said aloud, but the words sounded hollow. He could almost taste the golden liquid sliding smoothly down his parched throat. He leaned forward and stared at the jug. It was a simple clay vessel, commonly used in the Cove to store many things, but to Bird's-Eye, it was a sneering demon, teasing and beckoning him. "Jest take a swig o' that thar........ jest take a swig......... jest a swig......." "I ain't a-gonna do it!" Bird's-Eye declared. His own words echoed in his head. "That whiskey, hit's poison. Brings nothin' but trouble an' heartache..... trouble an' heartache." Voices stumbled over one another in a wild dance inside the mountain man's brain, making it throb. "Ever'body knows the Taylors and the O'Teales are the rip-snortinest sinners in the Cove." "A Taylor what ain't runnin' moonshine........ never heerd sech foolishness." "Paw, why is it that folks say us Taylors are sech torn-down scoundrels?........... Is it the stillin'?....... Is it the stillin'?" "Cain't rightly tell ye how many times I tried to quit." "An' once ye start, hit's nigh impossible to quit....... nigh impossible..... nigh impossible." "Ye're jest a Taylor, a torn-down scoundrel," the jug seemed to say. "Jest one taste, one little-bitty taste won't hurt nothin'." Bird's-Eye cried out in anguish, his head in his hands. He was wrestling with a powerful adversary, and he was losing his foothold. He could feel his resolve slipping away. Suddenly Lundy's face appeared before him. "You ain't gonna do it agin?" Lundy asked. "Naw. I swear it....... naw, I swear it." The promise he'd made to his son cut him to the core. It was like a piece of rope, dangling over the edge of a cliff, but Bird's-Eye had fallen too far to grasp it. "Lundy!" he cried in utter despair as he fell to his knees and crawled across the porch. His hands were shaking as he uncorked the jug and put it to his lips. Greedily, he gulped its contents, a steady stream dripping down his chin. Breathlessly, he set the jug down and wiped his face with his sleeve. An overwhelming feeling of disgust flooded him. Six months of resolution -- destroyed in a matter of minutes. *What had he done?* Bird's-Eye hung his head in shame. "You shifless wretch!" he scolded himself. "Don't need moonshine? Huh! And you said you was diff'rent! You ain't diff'rent. Yore as sorry n' low-down as you ever was. No......... worse. You swore to Lundy...... Lundy was a-countin' on ye. An' Bob Allen....... the preacher......... Miz Christy...... Ye let ‘em down; ye let ‘em all down." The highlander lifted his hands to the sky, "Oh, God! Holp me!" Again, the jug seemed to speak. "God ain't a-gonna holp ye now. He don't want nothin' to do with a torn-down varmit like you." The blow inflicted by these thoughts pushed Bird's-Eye into complete dejection. Sadly, he reached for the jug and allowed its remaining contents to numb his wounded conscience. ****** Lundy and Zady peered over a large bush at a mother fox and her kits. "Ain't that a sight!" Lundy whispered. "Jest look at them young'uns." For several seconds, the couple gazed in wonder at the tranquil scene before them. Suddenly, the wind shifted and the mother cocked her head, sniffing the air in their direction. She quickly jumped up and nudged the closest kit to its feet. The family scurried away. "Them little babies sure are cute!" Zady exclaimed as the two teenagers resumed walking. "Hard to believe they grow up into chickin thieves." "Waal, all critters got to make a livin' some way, I reckon," Lundy answered. The pair sauntered along in a contented silence. Lundy stopped walking. "Zady?" he began uncertainly. The young woman paused to face him, her head tilted with curiosity. "I, uh....." Lundy studied the ground beneath his feet. For some reason his mind froze whenever she looked at him. He took a deep breath. "We been keepin' comp'ny fer quite some time now." Cautiously, he looked up at his sweetheart. She nodded her head. Lundy continued, "An' I, waal...... I like to think of ye as my ev'ryday gal." Zady smiled. She liked having him think of her that way. Lundy closed his eyes. "If'n you wouldn't mind hit, I'd........ I'd........ I'd be obligeed if'n ye'd let me hold yer hand," he finished quickly. With apprehension, the young man opened his eyes to gauge Zady's response. Now it was her turn to blush and study the ground. "I'm glad ye're a-courtin' me, Lundy. And I'd be pleased as all get-out if ye was to hold my hand." Without lifting her head, she held out her hand. A delighted smile spread across Lundy's face. He took her small hand in his large, calloused one. "Waal, then, I reckon hits o-fficial. So, ye'll be my gal, then?" he asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Zady giggled self-consciously. "‘Course. Ye wouldn't be holdin' my hand if'n I wasn't." ****** The afternoon went by quickly. Lundy helped Jeb and John repair a leak in the roof of the Spencer cabin, while Zady and Clara sat on the front steps shelling snap beans. The two girls giggled as Zady recounted the events of the day with her sister. "Then he took my hand, an' we walked all the way home from Pigeonroost Hollow. Never let go a-tall!" Clara's older sister blushed with the memory. "So how's things ‘twixt you ‘n Will?" she asked, changing the subject. Clara snapped the bean in her hand. "He's a right nice feller, Zady," she confided. "Paw likes ‘im, too. Told Will in a coupla years, when I'm sixteen, we could marry, if'n we had a mind to." Clara leaned toward her sister as if to tell a secret. "And Will, he showed me a right pretty spot, over thar on the fur side o' Pebble Moun-tain. Said he aims to build a cabin thar one day..... *our* cabin. Oh, Zady, I don' know as I can stand the waitin'! Two whole years! Law!" ****** As dusk fell over the Cove, Lundy hiked home, a spring in his step. He whistled the tune to "Shady Grove," but in his mind, the words were Zady Grove. As soon as the woodworking business was on its feet, Lundy would ask Zady to marry him; he had every intention of making that happen very soon. Lundy was still whistling as he climbed the hill toward home. The tune died in his throat when he saw his father lying on the porch. His pulse quickened. What had happened? "Paw!" he shouted, running to Bird's-Eye's side. He shook the mountain man to no avail. Then his foot bumped something. It was a jug - an empty jug. Lundy could smell the alcohol on his father's breath. Angrily, he kicked the jug. It bounced down the hill, hit a rock and shattered. The young man grabbed his father by the collar. "Why, Paw? Why'd ye do it?" he hollered, shaking him. Bird's-Eye opened his eyes groggily. He looked blankly at his son, unable to comprehend the words being thrown at him with an almost physical force. "Ye told me things'd be diff'rent. Ye told me ye changed." Lundy let go of his father's shirt. Bird's-Eye fell to the floor with a thud and a grunt. "Reckon once a Taylor, always a Taylor!" the teenage boy spat in disgust, then ran blindly down the hillside. Title: Trouble an' Heartache Sequel to Eye of the Sparrow part 5 Author: Debbie H. PART FIVE: TROUBLE It was twilight when Bird's-Eye awoke with a pounding headache. He sat up, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. He had a vague recollection of Lundy yelling at him, but he couldn't remember the reason. Bird's-Eye sat up and groaned as his head throbbed with increased intensity. He looked around and spotted the cork of a jug lying next to him on the porch. Suddenly, the truth came rushing back to Bird's-Eye with painful clarity. The mountain man dropped his head into his hands. "What have I done?" he cried in anguish. A feeling of utter despair washed over him. "Oh, God! Whar are ye when I need ye?" Bird's-Eye listened in the darkness, as if expecting an answer, but the gentle hum of crickets was the only reply. He laughed coldly. "Ye're jest a torn-down scoundrel. God don't want nothin' to do with ye." Bird's-Eye recalled an earlier day when he believed that, and the voice of Christy Huddleston rang in his ears. "No one is ever too far gone. With God's help, even the lowliest sinner can become righteous." Bird's-Eye remembered his baptism in the river. David Grantland's deep voice called out to him, "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." The mountain man lifted his head, a look of realization dawning on his face. "I am with you always." "Ye *were* with me, God, weren't ye?" Bird's-Eye said aloud. "All that time, Ye were thar, jest a-waitin' to holp. But I never asked, never trusted Ye to holp me. Tried to do hit myself. Tried t' fight a battle without Ye." The man shook his head and laughed. "Got licked, too. Reckon I larned a lesson today, God. I ain't a-gonna face no more trials without Ye. Ye holped me give up moonshine once, Ye ken holp me do hit agin. An' it's fer real this time, God, I swear it." ****** Lundy was angry, but more than that, he was disappointed. When he returned to the Cove, he had high hopes for creating a new life for himself and his father. But those hopes were gone now. His father had crushed them all with a single jug of bootleg whiskey. Not conscious of where he was going, the teenager roamed through the Cove. Soon, he found himself on the trail to El Pano. What he planned to do there, he wasn't quite sure. The El Pano Tea House came to mind, as did thoughts of boarding a train for somewhere very far away. But one thing was certain -- he was never going to speak to his father again. "Why hello, Lundy!" the familiar voice of his teacher greeted him. Christy Huddleston was climbing up the path with Ruby Mae, a satchel of supplies in her hand. "Hey, Teacher," Lundy replied flatly. He was in no mood for visiting. "What's wrong, Lundy?" Christy asked, noting the woebegone look on his face. "Ye jest don't even want t' know," the young man said shaking his head. Christy turned to the red-headed girl beside her. "Why don't you go on back to the mission house, Ruby Mae? I'll be there later." "But Teacher!" Ruby Mae protested. She didn't want to miss the juicy story she knew was coming. One look from her teacher, however, sent her scurrying up the path. Christy took Lundy's arm and pulled him away from the trail. They sat down on a fallen log. "Now, tell me what happened." "When I come home from the Spencers, I found ‘im . . ." Lundy knit his brow in a dark scowl. He was so angry he couldn't continue. "Who?" "Paw," he spat contemptuously. "He said he was diff'rent; swore he'd never touch that moonshine agin." Angrily the young man grunted. "Wal, he ain't diff'rent. An' he did touch moonshine agin. Only took ‘im two days out o' jail. He ruined ever'thing . . . *ever'thing,* Miz Christy." His teacher patted him gently on the shoulder. "We were gonna do woodworkin' together, me an' Paw. Live respectable-like. And Zady . . ." Lundy's voice broke. Christy saw her student's eyes glisten. "Everything's going to be all right," she said soothingly. Lundy looked at the woman sitting beside him. "All right?" he asked incredulously. "How ken it be all right? Hit's all gone, jest like that," he said snapping his fingers. "Wait a minute, Lundy," Christy interjected. "Your father is just a man. He's come a long way in the last year, but he is still just a man. He makes mistakes, as we all do. He's your *father.* Won't you give him another chance?" The young man studied the ground. He didn't know whether he could bear the disappointment if his father failed him again. Christy closed her eyes, thinking. After a moment she spoke, "And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father who is in heaven may forgive you your transgressions." Lundy lifted his head at the familiar words. He and Mr. Thompson had read that Bible passage together, while Lundy was living in Knoxville. "There's nothing that anyone can do to you that can't be forgiven, son," Mr. Thompson had told him. "God has forgiven us, and it is our responsibility to forgive others, just as He has forgiven us." The teenager shook his head. He'd already forgiven his father for beating him and for chasing his mother away. Could he forgive him now for breaking his word? "Don't know as I ken do hit," he said whispered. "Of course you can," his teacher encouraged him. "You've got to. If you don't, it will follow you all the days of your life. It will be a weight, always pulling you down, keeping you from becoming the man that God wants you to be. But if you forgive him," Christy smiled knowingly, "you will find a freedom like nothing you've ever known." She stood and looked into the troubled eyes of the teenager. "Won't you try?" Lundy watched the small figure of his teacher disappear up the mountain path toward the mission house. For quite a while, the young man sat on the log, wrestling with his conflicting emotions. Finally, a look of resolution crossed his brow and he bowed his head. "God?" he began softly, "I know Ye forgave me fer all the sins I done, and now hit's time fer me t' forgive somebody else. Don't know as I ken do it, though. I want to . . . I mean, he *is* my Paw an' all, but I need yer holp. Will Ye holp me find a way?" Feeling as though a giant weight had been removed from his shoulders, Lundy stood and stretched, noticing for the first time the stiffness in his legs from sitting for so long. He began climbing the trail away from El Pano, heading for home. ****** Bird's-Eye sat on the porch and waited, his ears straining for the sound of his son's return. It was a dark night; cloud cover dimmed the light of the full moon. "God?" he silently prayed, "I know I don't de-serve no more chances, but if ye'd let Lundy come home . . ." A twig snapped, and the mountain man stood, cocking his head. He heard the rustling of leaves, closer to the cabin. "Lundy?" he called out. The outlines of two men appeared from the shadows. Each carried a rifle, and from the tenseness of each man's stance, Bird's-Eye could see that this was no social call. "Waaal, now," Bird's-Eye began, his eyes searching the darkness for others who might be lurking there. "If it ain't cuzin Nathan an' my ole prison mate Jake Johnson. What brings you fellers up this-a-way?" The two figures approached the cabin. "Ye know why we're here," the voice of Nathan O'Teale hissed. Then his tone changed to that of a negotiator. "We're needin' a third man fer the still. Yore the best thar is, Bird's-Eye. Them folks down the moun-tain are a-clamorin' fer yore corn squeezin's somethin' fierce." For several seconds the only sound was that of crickets chirping. "We come t' fotch ye fer the still." Bird's-Eye stood rigidly as he considered his options and the likely outcome of each. The odds were not in his favor. With regret, he remembered that his rifle was inside the cabin, lying on the hearth. He had nothing but the rocking chair to defend himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw a movement in the bushes beside the porch. At that moment, the cloud that had been covering the moon passed, and the mountain man caught a glimpse of Lundy hiding in the brush. The Taylor men's eye locked, and Bird's-Eye knew that he'd been given another chance. The light flickered as a large cloud drifted in front of the moon. Bird's-Eye looked at the bush, but Lundy was gone. "Thought I done tole ye, Nathan. I ain't a-gonna do ony more stillin'," he said loudly. "Aye, that's what ye said. Figgered ye mought've changed yer mind," Nathan answered as he reached the bottom of the steps. He glanced around the porch. "You try that brew I brung ye?" Bird's-Eye cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I . . ." Suddenly, the sound of something crashing through the brush startled the men. Nathan and Jake turned to look at the boulder Lundy sent rolling down the mountainside. It was just enough time for the teenager to leap onto the porch. The blockaders were surprised to find themselves staring down the barrel of a rifle. The anger flickering in the eyes of the young man wielding the weapon sent a shudder through each of them. "My paw," Lundy said, barely able to control his anger, "said he don't want to do no more blockadin'." He cocked the gun and thrust the barrel in Nathan's face. "That means he *don't* want to do no more blockadin'. I'm feelin' right generous-like tonight, so I ain't a-gonna shoot ye. But you hassle my paw agin, an' ye'll be sorry ye was ever birthed." He lowered the rifle. "Now git, both of ye." Nathan glared at his cousin. Jake grinned haughtily. "So yer young'un saved ye this time, Bird's-Eye, but he ain't always gonna be around t' protect his pap." The blockader let out a raucous laugh. "An' we'll be waitin'." With that, the two men strode down the hill and disappeared into the darkness. Bird's-Eye sighed with relief. Lundy sank into the rocking chair. For several minutes, the two men absorbed all that had happened during Nathan's brief visit. Finally Bird's-Eye spoke. "You saved my hide, boy. . . Why'd ye come back?" Lundy studied his father. "Yore my Paw. Nothin' ken change that. An' like it or not, I'm yer son. Nothin' ken change that neither." The mountain man swallowed. "I'm right proud t'call ye my son, Lundy. An' I aim t' make ye proud t' call me yer paw." Title: Trouble an' Heartache Part Six Author: Debbie H. PART SIX: HEARTACHE Early the next morning, the Taylor men began working in the cave. Neither one mentioned the events of the day, or night, before. Things were different. After facing death with his son, Bird's-Eye felt closer to him than he ever had; but at the same time, he sensed a great distance between them. He puzzled over this paradox as he sanded the rough edges from the chair legs that Lundy cut. "Hallooo!" the musical voice of Zady Spencer drifted down the stairs. Bird's-Eye saw the surprised look on Lundy's face, which was quickly replaced with a scowl. "Come on, son," the mountain man said. "Sounds like yer doney-gal's brung us some vittles." "I'm busy," Lundy replied without looking up. He turned the crank on the lathe with renewed vigor. "Don't have time t' be foolin' with no gal-woman no-how." "Waaal, if ye're shore . . ." Lundy looked at his father, a wrinkle in his brow. "I'm shore of hit, Paw," he answered with more conviction than he felt. Bird's-Eye turned and climbed the steps up into the cabin. Lundy could hear the muffled voices above him, and it made his heart ache. He stopped turning the crank and rested his head on his arms. "Goodbye, Zady," he whispered sadly, "ye'll always be in my heart." ****** "Now children, be sure to practice your recitations," Christy called out to her students as they scurried from the school house. As she packed her satchel with papers to grade, she noticed Zady Spencer brooding in her seat. "Bye Miz Christy!" Little Burl called out as he and Sam Houston raced outside. Now the room was empty, except for the dark-haired girl and her teacher. "Zady?" Christy asked gently as she sat beside the girl. "What do you want?" Zady asked without looking up. Christy touched her pupil's shoulder. "You seem unhappy. Will you tell me what's wrong?" Zady shook her head. "Hit's nothin', Teacher. I'm awright." She looked at Christy with tears shining in her big, round eyes. "Honest I am." Christy studied the girl, and saw her lip quiver. "Are you sure?" Zady nodded. "Well, OK. But remember, Zady, I'm not just your teacher; I'm your friend. If you ever want to talk, I'm here to listen." Zady sniffled as a tear ran down her dirty cheek. "Thanks, Teacher." She wiped her face with her sleeve and stood. "Reckon I'd best be gettin' home. Ma'll wonder what happent." For the next week, Zady's demeanor remained unchanged. She was never late for school, but she did not participate as she had before. She sat alone during recess, and avoided all of Christy's attempts to uncover the problem. When her grades started to fall, Christy decided that it was time to take action. That Saturday, when Fairlight arrived at the mission to help with the laundry, was the perfect opportunity to find out what Zady's mother knew. "Don't rightly know what's ailin' her, Miz Christy," Fairlight said as she hung one of Reverend Grantland's shirts on the clothes line. "She comes home from school late ever'day. An' when she gits home, she goes straight to her bed ‘n' lies down till suppertime. She don't hardly eat or say nary a word. In fact, last night Jeb had t' pick her up off'n the bed and sot her down at the table. She's done got that long-headed an' orn'ry." Fairlight shook her head in dismay. "Sometimes at night, I wake up t' hear her a'cryin' real quiet-like, so's no one'll hear. If'n I asked ‘er once what's wrong, I asked ‘er a hunnert times. But she jest looks all droopy an' says it ain't nothin'." The woman stopped her work and looked at her friend. "I de-clare, Miz Christy. Sometimes I plumb cain't figger that gal out." "I'm confused, too, Fairlight. She seemed so happy only a few weeks ago – almost as if she could walk on air. And now she's down in the depths of despair. I wonder what happened." Fairlight put her hand to her forehead. "Land sakes! How could I be so blind!" she cried. "That's it. That gal's havin' boy troubles, shore as the world." "What makes you say that?" "Waal now, Zady was a-skippin' ‘round like she was a princess, cookin' up vittles fer Lundy Taylor an' his paw. An' Lundy, he was a-callin' on her regular. But t' other day, she come home from visitin' up thar, her basket chock full of the supper she'd made. She jest sot it down on the porch and went straight t' bed. Come t' think of it, he ain't called on ‘er since. Reckon they had a fuss." "It must have been some fuss for Zady to still be upset," Christy commented. "Reckon so. Waal, now's we know what the trouble is, I ken have a talk with her . . . jest as soon as we get this washin' hung out to dry." ****** Splash, splash, splash! Zady absently skipped another pebble across the creek. She was no fool, but she absolutely could not understand what had happened. One day Lundy was holding her hand and courting her, and the next, he refused to see her. What had she done? The pain of not knowing hurt almost as much as her broken heart. Then there were all the questions – from her mother, Miss Christy, Ruby Mae, Clara. But what could she tell them? She didn't even know what happened herself! How could she explain it to anyone else? Sadly, she tossed another pebble. It skipped once and bounced into the river with a loud plop. "Jest like my life," Zady said aloud, "one big flop." "Your life isn't a flop, Zady Spencer," the girl turned at the sound of her mother's voice behind her. Fairlight approached her daughter and stooped to pick up a stone. "Life's a lot like skippin' stones, honey. Sometimes, it hops six, sev'n, maybe eight times, all the way t' the fur shore. Other times, it takes one jump and sinks t' the bottom. But ye cain't quit, Zady. Ye got t' keep thowin' them stones." She handed her daughter the smooth stone she held in her hand. "An' I promise ye, one day hit'll reach the other side." "You really think hit will, Mama?" Zady asked gripping the stone tightly in her palm. Fairlight nodded and stroked her oldest daughter's hair. "I do. Now, I don't know what's troublin' ye, but I reckon hit's got to do with Lundy." Zady looked at her mother in surprise. "I know what it's like t' have yer heart broke. What happened?" The girl sat down on a large boulder. "I don't know what happent, Mama. We were gettin' along real nice-like. An' he liked me, I know he did. I could see it his eyes. They twinkled when he looked at me." She couldn't help but smile at the memory. Her face fell abruptly. "But then t' other day, I carried some vittles over thar. Didn't even see him. His paw came out an' said Lundy was real busy. Seemed a mite-bit unusual, but I reckoned hit must be so. Left the vittles with Mr. Taylor, an' came on home. "Waal, next day, I figgered all that work he was doin'd be done. So I went over thar agin. Carried a basket o' biscuits ‘n' Paw's honey. Saw Lundy out in the yard, choppin' wood." Her voice quivered. "He was downright techious. Tole me t' stay away. Said he's got too much work t' be foolin' with gals. Then he stomped inside an' slammed th' door." Zady sniffled. "And I ain't seen ‘im since." "Oh, Zady!" Fairlight exclaimed hugging her daughter tightly. For the first time, Zady's tears flowed freely. "What'd I do wrong, Mama?" "Don't sound like you done nary a thing wrong, child. I reckon he's got his reasons, an' we'll all know ‘em soon enough." ****** Lundy pushed the sauerkraut around his plate with his fork. "Waal, I know it ain't fancy vittles like that Zady Spencer makes, but hit ain't that bad, Lundy," Bird's-Eye observed. Although the carpentry business was growing and he was learning the trade, the gulf between him and his son seemed to be widening every day. Bird's-Eye could see the hardness in Lundy's features - his tight-lipped grimace, the furrowed brow, the cold stare. Lundy set his fork down, stood and left the cabin without a word. He dropped into the rocking chair and crossed his arms. He thought that by returning home and even saving Bird's-Eye's life, he had forgiven his father; but in truth, he had not forgiven him at all. He began rocking faster and faster as he got angrier and angrier. His father had ruined everything with one swig of liquor. Well, not everything. The carpentry business was going well enough. He was getting orders from places as far as Nashville. But what did all that matter now? What was the point of it all? His father had destroyed the most important thing, and the pain of it was more than the young man could bear. Bird's-Eye came out onto the porch and leaned against the railing, facing his son. "Lundy, what's ailin' ye, boy?" Lundy rocked faster. "Nothin's ailin' me," he said hotly. "An' I'm not a boy," he shouted, jumping to his feet. "I'm a man . . . A man!" the teenager pointed at his chest emphatically. "You ken take ever'thing away from me, ye ken even take Zady Spencer, but ye cain't take that from me. I'm a man." "Of course ye're a man, Lundy," Bird's-Eye replied. "I ain't never said ye wasn't. Fact is, yore a lot more've a man than lots of growed folks in the Cove. But what's that got to do wi' Zady? An everwho took ‘er from ye?" Lundy sat back down. "How ken ye ask me that, Paw? Hit's got ever'thing to do wi' Zady. I'm a good man, a honest man." "Why, shorely, but . . ." "Let me finish, Paw," Lundy interrupted. "Zady, she's the finest gal in this-here Cove. She de-serves a good man. And I am a good man. But I had t' send ‘er away." "Ye sent ‘er away? What'n'all ye do that fer?" "‘Cause I love her too much," Lundy stated sorrowfully. Bird's-Eye scratched his head. "Ye love ‘er so much ye sent ‘er away? Ye're talkin' outta yer haid, son." Lundy shook his head. "Naw. If'n I'm a-gonna end up like you, she'd best stay away." "What?" The young man stopped rocking and looked at Bird's-Eye. "Waal, if'n I'm a-gonna drink whiskey an' whup my kin, then I ain't goin' t' marry Zady. I couldn't stand hit if I wuz t' whup ‘er." "Who says ye'll whup her?" "Hits plain as day, Paw. You did it, and yer paw afore ye. Reckon his pap whupped him, too. Everwhat I try t' do, thar's a good chance I'll end up drinkin' and whuppin', like all them other Taylors." Lundy's words pierced his father's heart. "Lundy," he began, "folks ken change. Jest ‘cuz yore name's Taylor don't mean ye'll be a torn-down scoundrel. Look at me . . . I'm a changed man." The teenager snorted. "That's what ye been tellin' me - that ye're diff'rent. Waaal, if'n ye're so diff'rent how come it only took ye two days outta jail to get drunk?" He flung the accusation at the mountain man, who hung his head in shame. "Hit was a rotten thing I done. Ye were countin' on me t' show ye that Taylors ain't got to be sorry varmints. An' I let ye down." Bird's-Eye grabbed Lundy's arm. "But listen to me, son. Taylors *ain't* got t' be sorry varmints. Hits the power of God that ken make ‘em good, honest men . . . men that the likes of Zady Spencer'd be proud to marry." "How ken ye say that, Paw?" "If'n ye ain't believin' the changes in my life, jest look at yer own. You got a trade, Lundy. No Taylor's ever had that afore, so's we had to count on moonshine. You got larnin', too. An' ye got the love of God in ye. I seen hit with my own eyes. The way ye play that fiddle, I ken feel His spirit a-movin' in me. An' how ye look at Zady. . ." The mountain man looked intently at his son. "An' why ye come back to me atter I let ye down. If'n ye hadn't of come, Lundy, reckon I'd be a dead man. "God changes folks. Only thing is, he don't change ye all at once. He's always workin', tinkerin' with us. I made a mis-take, Lundy - a bad ‘un. I don't aim to do hit agin. God's a-workin' in my heart. I ain't the torn-down scoundrel I was, but I ain't quite the man I'm gonna be, neither. I'm a-doin' the best I ken. So if'n ye could find a way to forgive me, son, I'd . . ." Bird's-Eye swallowed back his tears. Lundy's voice cracked, "I forgive ye, Paw; I *forgive* ye." He hugged his father tightly. When Bird's-Eye looked up into his son's face, he could see that Lundy truly had forgiven him. "Waal, now. You goin' to call on that gal o' your'n tomorry?" The teenager grinned at his father for the first time in many days. "For shore and sartain, I will, Paw. Only hope she'll take me back." Title: Trouble an' Heartache Part 7 Author: Debbie H. Summary: The Spencers plan a playparty and Lundy attempts to resume courting Zady PART SEVEN: JOLLIFICATION After roaming around the Cove the next morning, Lundy entered the cabin with a worried look on his face. "Paw, what ken I give ‘er? The leaves air fallin' from the trees. Thar ain't nary a flower in the Cove. I got to find somethin' special, Paw, so's she'll know how sorry I am." "Jest give her yer heart, an' she'll know," Bird's-Eye replied. "My heart! That's it!" Lundy cried as he lumbered down the steps into the workshop. Hours later, he emerged with a heart-shaped oak box. ****** "I'm hongry," Zady stated as she sat down at the breakfast table. The rest of the children were already seated, anxious to dig into the stack of their mother's hotcakes. "Yore lookin' peart this mornin', " Jeb observed. "I'm feelin' a lot better, today, Paw. I'm gonna jest keep skippin' them stones, ain't I, Mama?" Fairlight smiled at the confused look on her husband's face. "Wimmin!" Jeb said, shaking his head. "My pap always tole me ‘don't try t' understand ‘em, jest try t' keep ‘em happy.' So I ain't even gonna ask." He turned to his oldest son. "John, you goin' t' holp me with the plowin' this mornin'?" "Yassir, but when hit's done, ken I go see Bessie? Me an' her was wantin' to go traipsin' today." Jeb winked at Fairlight. "Reckon so, but ye'd best git yer chores done." "Paw?" Clara chimed in. "Will Beck said he'd be stoppin' by. Guess he could holp with the plowin' and we ken all go traipsin' together." The head of the Spencer household scratched his jaw in mock consternation. "Vow and declare! Hit's fall ain't it, Fairlight? Ye'd think it was spring with all the courtin' goin' on ‘round here." The whole family laughed at Jeb's joke, but Zady's smile was a forced one. No one would be courting her today. ****** It was mid-afternoon when the boys finished plowing the field on the east side of the Spencer cabin. "Thar ain't no water anywhares as good ‘n' cold as your'n," Will exclaimed as he swallowed the last drops from his glass. Clara stopped churning the butter and giggled. "Hit's a right purty day out," Will continued. "John, reckon me ‘n' Clara could go traipsin' with you ‘n' Bessie?" "Sounds like a real playparty," John answered. He turned to his sister. "You want t' come along, Zady?" She shook her head. "Naw, someone's got t' stay here an' keep this here butter churnin'," she said, putting her hands on the handle of the churn. "Waal, now. Looky-thar," Clara exclaimed. "I spy Lundy Taylor a-climbin' the ridge," she said pointing down the mountain. Zady's heart jumped into her throat. "What is *he* doing here?" she thought. "Could he be calling on me? No," she chided herself. "He's probably jest come to borry Paw's wagon." She fervently began churning. "Hallooo!" Lundy hollered when he reached the edge of the Spencer property. "Howdy!" John replied. "Come on up an' set a spell." "Right kind of ye, John." Lundy nodded at the group on the porch. "Hey, Will, Clara . . ." He looked at the ground. "Zady." "Hey," Zady replied without looking up from her task. "Look-a-here, Lundy. We were all figurin' on goin' traipsin' this atternoon, but I thought of somethin' better. Why don't we jest have a playparty right here. I'll scoot over ‘n' get Bessie. I hear you play the fiddle pretty good. I got my harmonica. Clara's got a dulcimer . . ." "I don't know, John," Zady interrupted. "Maybe Lundy's come callin' fer Paw. Maybe he don't want to be part o' yer jollification." Lundy felt all eyes upon him. "I . . . uh," he tried to catch Zady's eye, but she turned away. "Waal, uh, factually, I came to see you." Zady looked at the young man in surprise. "Ye came to see me?" she whispered. Lundy climbed the steps and stood facing his sweetheart. "I cain't explain hit all, but I'm sorry if'n I hurt ye. I was tryin' to do what was best." He held a gift out for her. "I made this..." The brown-haired girl took the wooden box. "You have my heart, Zady Spencer," she read. She looked deeply into Lundy's eyes, trying to understand. "You have my heart, Zady Spencer," Lundy whispered. Finally, the young woman with the fathomless brown eyes smiled at her beau. Tenderly, she took his hand. "Won't ye play the fiddle for us, Lundy? Know Paw'd be tickled pink fer you to borry his fiddle." Lundy looked at the group gathered on the porch, then back at his sweetheart. She smiled at him encouragingly. "Why shorely!" he nodded. The party lasted well into the evening. As word spread around the Cove, the gathering grew. Neighbors appeared with pies and other treats, or with their own musical instruments. One young couple was hardly aware of the singing and dancing, however; they were lost in a world that contained just the two of them, and the starry heavens above. Zady shivered as the two walked hand-in-hand. "You cold?" Lundy murmured. "A mite bit," Zady responded. The young man removed his coat and placed it lovingly on Zady's shoulders. He let his hand linger on her shoulder for a moment. "When I get some cash-money saved up, Zady, I aim to ask ye t' marry me. Reckon ye mought say yes?" Zady blinked her eyes in surprise. Only yesterday, she'd thought that Lundy didn't love her at all, and now he was practically asking her to be his wife! She calmly nodded her assent, but internally she was shouting for joy. Lundy came back for her; he would always come back for her. Lundy couldn't believe his good fortune. He wanted to throw his arms around the young woman standing before him and twirl her in the air. Instead, he asked quietly, "Ken I kiss ye, Zady Spencer?" Zady's heart trembled with anticipation as she recalled their first kiss. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Slowly, Lundy bent towards her. "Hey, you two lovebirds! Come on an' join th' party!" Will shouted. Quickly, Lundy stepped back. Zady giggled nervously. Lundy shrugged. "Guess we'd better, huh?" The young couple walked slowly back to the festivities, each wishing they could have stayed behind. Title: Trouble an' Heartache Part Eight Author: Debbie H. Summary: And now for the "rest of the story" :) PART EIGHT: THE REST OF THE STORY Lundy and Zady were married the following spring. By that time, the carpentry business had become a major industry for Cutter Gap. In addition to enhancing the income of the Allen family, owners of the mill, Will Beck earned a nice living transporting the finished furniture to El Pano, where it was shipped via train to the customer. After his father was killed in a whiskey raid, Orter Ball O'Teale learned the art of cabinetry. Inspired by their menfolk, the women revitalized the almost-forgotten art of weaving. Granny Barclay taught the young girls her favorite patterns, passed down from generation to generation since time began. Fairlight began using Jeb's sourwood honey to make candy, which was a favorite among children and grownups alike for miles around. As families around the Cove earned more cash, they had more to spend; thus creating demand for other products in the Cove. Now the sight of barefoot children was a rare one indeed. And what became of Bird's-Eye? The mountain man discovered that his true gift was not blockading or even woodworking. It was the gift of sharing the good news of God's love. After all, how could he contain himself? Hadn't God saved *him*, one of the "rip-snortinest" sinners in the Cove, from an empty life, filled only with trouble and heartache? Wouldn't He do the same for others? When Reverend Grantland left Cutter Gap for mission work in China, Bird's-Eye assisted his replacement, Reverend Stephen Kelley, often preaching when Reverend Kelley was away. The most memorable event of Bird's-Eye's life occurred when he baptized his first grandson, Paul Taylor, in the river near the mission house. The amazing awakening of Cutter Gap began, not with an eloquent preacher or a wealthy benefactor, but with a poor mountain blockader and his son. How often God uses the tools that mankind least expects as instruments of his grace! THE END