Ally felt as if she'd just been slapped. She moved backward, unconsciously putting distance between herself and her father. On another day, she would have meekly taken his anger as her due. But today was different. She felt different—more empowered. And she knew that, more than anything else, she didn't deserve to be treated like this. Suddenly she was unloading twelve years of disappointment and frustration.
"What do you mean...the woman of the house? I'm not the woman of the house. I have never been the woman of the house. I'm the daughter. Somewhere during the past twelve years, we all forgot that. I have no life other than taking care of you and my brothers, and yet you begrudge me one small afternoon nap? I am not a child, and I don't deserve to be chastised like this. In fact, I will not be spoken to like this. Do you understand me?"
Gideon was stunned, both by her anger and the fact that she'd had the gumption to speak up.
"Now see here," he muttered. "You don't have any call to—"
"No, you're the one without any right. I'm going in the house, and I'll finish the dishes. But when Danny and Porter show up for supper tonight, you better be ready to take them out to eat or cook it yourself, 'cause I'm not going to be home."
If she'd just threatened to kill him, Gideon couldn't have been any more shocked. He stared in disbelief as she walked away in anger. All he'd intended to do was tell her that he'd given Detweiller permission to court her. Something told him that he'd just made that an insurmountable issue.
Disgusted with himself and the entire situation, he slapped his fist against the side of his leg and headed for the barn to do the evening chores. By the time he came back, Danny and Porter were pulling into the yard, and Ally was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, Dad, where's Ally? There's no supper. What's the deal?" Porter asked.
"She's busy," Gideon muttered.
"Oh, fine," Porter grumbled. "I'm starved and she's busy. Hellsfire, she doesn't have anything to do but cook a simple meal. What's so busy about that, I'd like to know?"
Gideon heard his son and knew he was responsible for his attitude.
"She has plenty to do keeping us all comfortable and fed. If she needs a night off now and then, then we should honor that."
"You're right. I'll be happy to fry up some ham and potatoes," Danny said.
Gideon looked at his younger son and made no move to hide his appreciation.
“Then we thank you, son, don't we, Porter?"
Porter Monroe frowned.-It wasn't often that his father ever called him down about anything, but something told him now was not the time to push the issue about being thirty-seven years old and his own man.
"Yeah, sure, Danny. That would be great. I'll go down in the cellar and get a quart of green beans to go with it."
Gideon sighed. If only it was as easy to make peace with Ally as it had been his sons, he would be feeling much more relieved.
When he passed through the living room on his way to the bathroom to wash up, he noticed that his truck was gone. He sighed. At least she hadn't gone off on foot. He didn't like to think about her limping off down the road or up the mountain through the trees.
He washed up in haste, unwilling to look at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, well aware he wouldn't like what he saw.
Ally drove without aim, her only intent to get as far away from home as possible. Still, less than three miles from home, she caught herself turning east on a narrow, one-lane road, instead of continuing down toward Blue Creek. Even while she was negotiating the road, her mind was already on the warmth and welcome that would be waiting for her at Granny Devon's.
Granny wasn't really her grandmother. She'd born no children, but in the mountains of
An old gray tomcat missing one ear and two teeth came out to meet Ally as she parked beneath a stand of pines. His throaty greeting was somewhere between a cat's meow and a growl, compliments of a dog fight years ago that he almost hadn't survived. Ally bent down and gave him a good scratch between the ears.
"Well, hello to you, too, Mr. Biddle. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking."
Then she moved toward the porch and the little old woman who awaited her there.
"Granny Devon, it's me, Ally Monroe." "Law, girl, you got no need to identify yourself. I saw you drive up," she said, and motioned for her to sit down. Ally laughed. It was Granny's idea of a joke, although everyone always played along.
"Nice-looking bowl of beans you have there," Ally said. "I'd be happy to finish them off for you."
"What a sweet child you are," Granny said, and relinquished the chore to Ally.
Ally sat down in the empty chair beside the old woman, smiled to herself at the rather youthful pink dress Granny was wearing, then began finishing the beans. "These out of your garden, Granny?" "No, honey. Didn't plant no garden this year. My hands are getting too achy to hold a hoe these days. Anson Tiller's boy, Duke, brung 'em over to me earlier." Then she lifted both hands to her head, and with the deftness of a woman who'd learned to see with her fingers, tucked a few flyaway strands into the bun she wore at the back of her neck and fluffed the ruffled collar framing her tiny face. Once satisfied that she looked presentable, she pushed off in her rocking chair as she turned her attention to Ally.
"Talk to me, sweet'en. How's that Gideon doin' these days?"
Ally sighed. "We had words. Granny."
Granny nodded while riding with the motion of the chair.
"Better than tradin' blows," Granny stated.
Ally snorted softly. "We came close."
Granny picked up on the sarcasm in the sound and frowned.
"You're too easy on your menfolk. They take you for granted."
Ally sighed, then let her hands go limp in the bowl.
"I know, but it's too late to change." She blinked back tears. "Oh, Granny, it's too late for everything."
The old woman reached out, took away the bowl of beans and set it aside.
"It's never too late," she said. "Now, give me your hands, girl."
Ally scooted closer, then laid her hands in Granny's lap. She knew what came next. She wouldn't admit it, but it was, after all, the real reason why she'd come.
Granny's hands were palms up, but the moment she felt Ally's hands, she grabbed them tight.
Ally knew what to expect, and still her heart rate accelerated. She stared into those pale, sightless eyes and tried not to shudder. Even though she knew Granny Devon had never seen a moment of light on this earth, she would have sworn she was seeing all the way to heaven.
The old woman's lips went slack, and she started to sway back and forth. Ally heard her moan, then exhale softly. At that point, she started murmuring in a high, singsong voice.
"Look to the family.
Look to the heart.
Danger around you.
Trouble will start."
Ally frowned. It was the last thing she'd expected to hear, and yet it wasn't enough to tell her how to prevent it, or save herself and her family from ruin.
"How, Granny? How will the trouble start?"
The old woman's eyelids were fluttering, and her gaze was fixed on a point far beyond Ally's mortal sight. Ally braced herself for the answer. "You are not your brothers' keeper."
Ally leaned forward until she was so close she could feel the old woman's breath upon her face.
"Which brother, Granny? What's happening to my brothers?"
But Granny Devon's moments of sight were gone.
She turned loose of Ally's hands and fell back in her chair. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp and shaking.
Ally sat without moving, waiting for Granny to recover herself. Even though she seemed close to apoplexy, Ally knew from experience that she would come to in her own time.
The old tomcat wandered up onto the porch, paused to look at Granny Devon as if he knew what was happening, then leapt up into her lap and curled himself into a ball. Ally could hear him purring from where she sat.
A few moments later, Granny inhaled deeply, then sat up, felt the cat in her lap and smiled.
"Well, hello there, Mr. Biddle. Real thoughty of you to come visit me like this," she said, then laughed out loud.
Ally smiled, but she couldn't laugh. Not after what she'd just heard. Her silence must have alerted Granny that all was not well.
"Girl...you still here?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Granny's hands stilled on the cat as her smile faded.
"Was it bad?"
Ally sighed. Another thing about Granny that was somewhat unusual was that she never remembered what she said when she had her visions.
"Yes, ma'am."
Granny frowned. "I'm right sorry, girl."
"It's all right, Granny. You don't make stuff happen, you just give us a warning of what to expect, right?"
Granny nodded slowly. "Best I can figure. I don't rightly understand it myself." Then Granny dumped the cat from her lap and stood up. "Let's go inside. I'm right hungry for my supper. Have you et, girl?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then you can sit at the table with me. It's been a while since I had company for supper. It'll be a pleasure."
Ally shook off the anxiety of Granny's predictions and followed the little woman into the house. Soon the kitchen was filled with the homey scents of baking corn bread, frying chicken and fresh corn on the cob.
Ally finished setting the table, then took a plate of sliced tomatoes from the refrigerator and put them on the table.
"The table is set, and the tomatoes are out, Granny. Is there something else I can do for you?"
"I reckon you can come look at this chicken and see if it's as brown as you like it."
Ally peered over Granny's shoulder and shook her head in disbelief. It was all she could do to time cooking a meal like that and make it work, and she could see.
"Granny, I don't know how you do it, but it looks amazing."
"Good, then fork up that yard bird and get it on the plate. My belly feels like it's gnawing on my backbone."
Ally grinned.
"Why don't you sit down and let me finish dishing up the food?"
Granny wiped her hands down the front of her apron.
"Well now, I believe that I will. Seems like my days just keep getting longer and longer."
Ally dished up the food as Granny took a seat at the table.
"Iced tea is already poured and to your right," Ally said.
Granny started to reach for the glass, then stopped and frowned.
"Reckon did you sweet it?" Granny asked.
Ally smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Is there any other kind?"
Granny laughed and nodded as her fingers curled around the glass and lifted it to her lips.
"Umm-hmrn," she said, as she took a good long sip. "That's fine. Right fine."
"And so is this meal," Ally said as she sat the last of the bowls on the table. "It's very kind of you to invite me to stay."
"It's my pleasure, girl," Granny said. '"Sides, sometimes we women just need a break from the menfolks of this world."
"That's the truth," Ally muttered as she slid into her seat.
Granny reached for Ally's hand.
"Bow your head, girl. We bless the food before we put it in our bellies."
"Yes, ma'am," Ally said, and closed her eyes in quiet submission.
The prayer wrapped around her, comforting in its message and promising an ease to her worries that she sorely needed. When Granny ended with a hearty amen, Ally felt renewed and suddenly hungry.
"Since you're here, I'll take advantage of your kindness and ask you to fix my plate." "It would be my pleasure," Ally said. Granny nodded. "I like the back piece of chicken, my corn plain, and my corn bread buttered."
Ally stifled a chuckle. "Granny, you know what?"
"What's that?" Granny said, as she felt along the platter of chicken until she found some crumbles of the fried chicken batter and popped them in her mouth.