Dunaway's Crossing by Nancy Brandon Page A

back as she turned her face to the midday sun. The warmth, combined with the brisk breeze, refreshed her. Her feet still smarting, she stepped over to the log bench in front of the store. “Ooh,” she said as she sat down. Leaning forward relieved her back even more. She stretched out her legs and put her hands on her knees, relishing the welcome ache in her lower back. If this position felt good, would touching her toes feel even better? Could she even do that? She crawled her fingers down her shins, over the hem of her skirt, and across her boot laces until she clutched the tips of her feet. Across her back and down her hamstrings, the tension felt so good that she sat that way for a minute or so, examining a stink bug inching its way into the shadow under the bench.
    “Well, ain’t you a nimble thang?”
    “Whoop!” Bea Dot almost fell over as the husky voice caught her by surprise. She straightened and shielded her eyes as she looked up at a smiling man towering over her petite frame. At least six feet tall, he was as wide as Santa’s doorway. With wiry blonde hair and a beard to match, he looked exactly the way she’d envisioned Odysseus. His dialect, however, more resembled Huckleberry Finn.
    “I didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am. I  just ain’t never seen nobody grab they feet like that.”
    “It’s quite all right.” Bea Dot stood, her face burning, but not from the sun. Regaining her composure, she replied, “Can I help you?”
    The man held out his hand, even though Bea Dot had not offered hers first. “Thaddeus Taylor. I live in the house on the neighboring property. You Miss Netta’s cousin?”
    “Yes, I’m Bea Dot Ferguson.” She took his hand, which completely covered hers.
    “Pleased to meecha. Will told me y’all was staying here.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the area.
    “I’m minding the store for Will while he’s delivering mail,” Bea Dot explained. “Do you need anything?”
    “Oh, naw, not today.” He waved his big paw like he was swatting away a bee. “Just thought I’d stop by and see how y’all’s doing. I ain’t seen the store since it got up and running. My son Terrence, you know, helped put in the shelving and what not.”
    “No, I didn’t know that,” Bea Dot replied. “Do come in and see. Netta is talking to her husband on the telephone, but I’ll be happy to show you around.”
    He nodded as he followed her through the door. Netta was just hanging up the earpiece. “How’s things in town?” he asked.
    “I suppose you should ask my cousin,” Bea Dot said, smiling at Netta. “She has the latest word from Pineview.”
    Netta stepped away from the telephone, offering a polite countenance and voice. Still, Bea Dot could tell Ralph had said something to worry her. Netta balled a handkerchief in her fist.
    “Why, Thaddeus Taylor, how are you?” she asked. “How is that new baby of yours?” She leaned on the store’s front counter with one hand and put the other behind her back.
    “Doing well, Miss Netta, and the baby is fine. Little boy. Named Troy.”
    “What a nice, strong name,” Netta said with a faint smile. “Do tell Eliza I’ll look forward to meeting him as soon as I can.”
    “I’ll do that,” Thaddeus said.
    “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go lie down.” Netta turned to leave with a stoop in her shoulders.
    “Netta, do you feel well?” Bea Dot called after her. “Can I bring you anything?” Did Ralph have bad news? The phone call should have perked Netta up.
    Netta held her hand up in refusal as she slowly disappeared into the bedroom.
    “She’s close to her time,” Thaddeus said, almost as if he needed to apologize for her. “Bet she’s as tired as a coalman in January.”
    “I suppose so.” Bea Dot shook her head in sympathy.
    “Well, I’ll be going,” Thaddeus said, turning to the door. “Let you women have some quiet. Tell Will his store looks mighty fine. Mighty fine.”
    Just as Bea Dot said