Annie snarls and delivers a sharp kick to Jebediah’s knee, snatching the gun the second he lowers it. She races out of the room, but I see a sparkle of tears in her eyes.
“Poorly done,” I tell the boys in a low voice. They’re decent enough to look ashamed.
“More chopping?” Jebediah asks.
“We’re running out of wood that needs chopping,” I tell him, cocking an eyebrow. “At lunch, you’re cleaning every single slate.”
I find Annie sitting on the steps outside. Her tears were of anger, not sadness, and have already burned from her eyes.
“He’s so mean,” Annie mumbles. She glances up at me. “Just like a snake.”
I smile, remembering her story on the first day of class. “Maybe not quite a snake,” I say. “I’ve known snakes; they’re worse. Jebediah’s just a . . . just a lizard.”
This earns me a smile, but it disappears quickly.
“My daddy was given this,” Annie tells the gun, not me.
“I believe you,” I say.
“Some rich man came from Chicago. Hired my daddy to help him hunt, guide him around the land. They were gone for weeks.” She glances up at me. “You’re from Chicago, ain’t ya, Miss Davies?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know the man? He was named Franklin Smithfield.”
“Chicago is a big place, bigger than this little town. I didn’t know him.”
“Wish I lived somewhere people didn’t know me,” Annie mutters.
I start to rub her back but hesitate. Annie can be prickly. I don’t want to scare her off.
“My daddy saved that man’s life, though. His horse threw him when a grizzly attacked. That’s how he broke the Ballard.” She strokes the wire holding the stock on the gun. “He gave it to my daddy after my daddy killed the bear for him.”
“Your daddy sounds like an honorable man,” I say.
“He is,” Annie mumbles. She stares at the gun. “Maybe I should go.”
“Go?” I ask. “Where?”
“Home.”
“Why?”
“Momma’s pregnant again. Half a year, I won’t be here anyway. Probably sooner.”
I swallow, surprised. I shouldn’t be. But I am.
I want to tell Annie that a lot can happen in half a year. That she is worth more than a caretaker for her siblings. That her own mind has value, and her own will, and that what she wants matters.
But all I say is “Stay at least for today.”
One of the McHenry girls tells me that the package I ordered from their daddy at the general store arrived, so the next morning before school, I walk down the street.
Annie’s mule is hitched in front of McHenry’s store, and when I enter, I’m surprised to see Mr. McHenry sliding some coins across the counter to her. Her fingers are covered in dirt — no, dried blood. Mr. McHenry stacks up a pile of fresh rabbit furs she just sold him.
“What’d you do with the meat?” Mr. McHenry asks.
“Sold to Mrs. Hutchinson,” Annie says.
“Bring me some next time; I’ll give you a fair price.”
Annie nods, pocketing one of the coins and handing the other back to Mr. McHenry. “My daddy needs some more primers.”
Mr. McHenry gets a small box for her. As he hands it to her, he says, “Is it your daddy reloading the shells or are you doing it?”
Annie doesn’t answer.
“You giving him that other coin?” The shopkeeper’s voice is lower now.
Annie nods.
“Don’t you let him buy more drink, you hear? Hide it if that’s what he’s going to do.”
Annie pockets the box of primers and turns to go.
“Miss Davies!” Mr. McHenry says when he notices me. Annie starts in surprise, and red creeps up her cheeks.
Before any of us can say anything else, Mr. McHenry’s children burst in through the back door, along with the twins. They crowd around the front counter.
“See! I told you Daddy got more candy!” Bridget cries, pointing.
The twins pull pennies out of their pockets, eyeing the glass jars eagerly.
Mr. McHenry starts to serve me first, but I nod to the children. “Go ahead,” I say, smiling as Mr. McHenry starts doling out sweets.
“Why don’t you get something, Annie?” I ask her gently.
“She doesn’t eat candy,” Bridget says around a lemon drop. “She only eats rabbits and rats.”
“Bridget!” Mr. McHenry glares at his daughter. She looks immediately ashamed, even more so as Mr. McHenry threatens her with a switch for her rude words. But as Annie slinks from the store, I can’t help but notice that Bridget still has the sweet in her mouth, and Annie has nothing.
“Get on to the school,” I tell the children as they rush out. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Now, Miss Davies,” Mr. McHenry says, leaning down the counter. “I just got the package you ordered. And I sold that pretty dress of yours for more than I thought, so I owe you an extra quarter.” He gives me the coin and the slender box together. The words HOPKINS & ALLEN are written on the side of the box, and it weighs heavily in my hand, but not so heavy that it pulls down my skirt when I slip it in my pocket.