Squeaking windmill blades added to the forlorn feel of the place. It looked deserted except for the thin trail of smoke that rose from the chimney and vanished in the blue summer sky overhead.
Swinging down from the saddle, Boone froze when he heard the clicking sound of a rifle being cocked. He called out,
“My gosh, Josie, it's me, Boone.”
He jumped when the rifle boomed and dirt kicked up at his heels. Grabbing the reins of his startled horse he attempted to calm him down while keeping his eye on the rifle sticking through the open window.
“Welcome home Boone.” Came a sweet southern drawl from the doorway as a petite golden haired girl stepped onto the porch.
The ragged jeans and faded shirt she wore did little to hide the fullness of her young body, nor the fact she was no longer the little girl he had left there three years before. He couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him.
She stood there smiling a full minute before dashing across the space between them and throwing herself into his arms. He dropped the reins and held her as she smothered his face with girlish kisses.
“Boone.” she cried,” I thought you'd never come for me.”
Disengaging himself from a tangle of arms and legs he sat her back on the porch and held her at arms length. Tears of happiness streaked down her face.
“I'm sorry it took so long Josie, It took your letter a long time to catch up to me.”
Holding his hand she pulled him inside, then suddenly overcome with shyness she dropped it and stood looking at him at a loss of what to say or do.
Wringing her hands together she asked,
“Are ya hungry, I have beans and fried corn mush, it's fresh, I just cooked it.” She explained.
“Sounds good Josie.” He could see she had been struggling to survive.
She busied herself serving up a plate for him and placing it on the table she sat down and watched him, her elbows on the table and chin resting on the palm of her hands. He was hungry and meager though it was, it had a good flavor. Someone had taught Josie how to cook. He cleaned his plate and took seconds. When he was through he leaned back and watched Josie as she cleaned up.
“How have you managed to get by all this time since Ma and Pa died?” He asked curiously as he rolled a cigarette. He really wanted to know. The place was run down but it was clean and neat and she seemed well fed. She sure wasn't thin anyhow.
“It wasn't easy. I had to sell off nearly everything to hang on to the place for ya, but I did it Boone. It's free and clear. Not nothing owed against it.” She said her voice full of pride.
He struck a match under the wooden table and lit his smoke watching her as she explained it to him. Surprised he exclaimed,
”For me?”
“Sure…Pa said to me before he died,” she went on, tears in her eyes, “Hang on til Boone gets here, it's all I got in the world to leave "im. So I promised I would.” A tear slid down her face. Boone didn"t know what to say.
“You been here alone all this time?”
“Well who did ya thinks gonna be here with me?” she asked surprised and waited for his answer. Boone didn't say anything and she went on,
”Pa said a mans only got three things that is important in this life, his word, his family, and his land. As long as ya got those you'll be okay, but without "em it would be a powerful useless life. Never leave the land and you"ll always have a home, he said, you can survive there.”
Boone got up and walked to the door and looked out on the dried up farm. Pa scratched out a living here for years and what did it get him...a broken down body and a burying ground. That's not for me he thought as he turned back to Josie who stood behind him looking out across the yard.
“I buried "em up yonder under the bodart tree. Ya wanta go pay your respects?” she asked softly,” I"ll wait here and let you have time alone with "em.”
Boone had not given any thought to where they were buried; his main concern after the initial shock was Josie. He had grieved and put it away, but now he would go and say his goodbyes for Josie"s sake as well as his own. He walked slowly up the hill to the big tree where he had grown up playing. Many hours he had spent under this tree dreaming of the places he wanted to see and things he wanted to do. Being a farmer was not one of them. He squatted down and looked at the simple headstones placed on the graves. Josie had placed the words "Mother" and "Father" on them as well as their names and birth and death dates. They were the only Mother and Father she ever had. He remembered the day Pa had brought her home bundled up in a pink and blue Quilt. He was so curious what was in there. He was five years old.
