Bringing Ezra Back Read Online Free Page B

either.
    â€œI’ll be just a few more minutes,” I told him.
    When I finished milking Golly, I gave her a pat and let her into the fenced-in pasture. Then I brought Job out to join her. I patted Job’s velvety nose and buried my face in his mane for a moment. His warm, familiar smell always comforted me. I murmured in Job’s ear something about itchy feet and how I was going on a journey and how I’d see him soon, and he whinnied back, like he got my meaning.
    Job was sweet-natured, patient, and hardworking. We were lucky to have him. Weasel had come and stolen him once, along with our mule, Crabapple, and some chickens and piglets. My pet pig, Miz Tizz, had been too big for Weasel to carry off, but that hadn’t saved her from his meanness. When I’d found her lifeless body, I’d known right off it was Weasel who’d done it. The memory chilled me even now.
    I’d gotten Job back, but we never did see Crabby again. I still missed him and his stubborn ways.
    Back at the cabin, Molly took a locket strung on a strip of leather from around her neck and handed it to me. Ezra had made it for her out of bone, with a likeness of her face carved into it.
    Then she took a tall black hat from the hook on the wall and placed it on my head. It used to be Ezra’s, and I’d told him once how someday I aimed to get me a hat just like it. When he’d gone away in the spring, he’d left Molly the locket with a snip of his hair inside. And he’d left me the hat, along with a message to be happy wearing it.
    â€œCome back soon,” Molly said fiercely. “With Ezra.” Before I could answer, she turned away and began to wrap some food for me to take on the journey. Her movements were hectic and jerky, and I knew she was trying not to cry.
    I fastened the locket around my neck, where it hung along with the pouch that held the gold coin. Having it made me feel even stronger. I would return home safe, so Molly’d have her locket back.
    I gathered my clothes and considered the matter of how to carry my fiddle so it would be protected. Molly got me a blanket and her worn cradle quilt and we wrapped the fiddle and bow in them, then bundled my clothes around that. We put it all in a basket with shoulder straps and a flap of oiled leather over the top to keep out rain.
    And, just like that, it was time to go. Duffy and Winston seemed to sense that something unusual was happening. They stood by, whining, their tails wagging, and I leaned down to scratch their ears while Pa and Beckwith shook hands. When Molly hugged me, she broke down and cried, and I about did, too. Then Pa hugged me hard. We didn’t say anything; there was nothing left to say. I pulled Ezra’s black hat down low over my eyes.
    Duffy and Winston pranced alongside Beckwith and me as we crossed the big pasture. When we reached the edge of the woods, I turned back. Molly and Pa were standing right where we’d left them, and I longed to be standing there, too, waving good-bye to Beckwith. When Duffy and Win left me to race back toward the cabin, I felt near as lonesome as I ever had.

3
    I STARTED OUT following Beckwith through the forest, reminding myself to keep a watchful eye for landmarks that would help me find my way when I returned with Ezra. My load was pretty light compared to the huge, oddly shaped pack the peddler had to wrestle with. It slowed him down considerable, as it reached up taller than his head and was forever getting caught on low-hanging branches. Every time it happened, he muttered under his breath—things I reckon Mama would not have wanted me to hear.
    I scrambled over a fallen tree and Beckwith tried to follow. He lost his balance and fell backwards. Lying there, waving his arms, he looked as helpless as an overturned beetle.
    â€œCome give a fellow a hand up,” he called.
    After that he wanted to stop and rest, even though I figured we’d been walking for only a