came to take her home and brought her back to Harlan on Monday mornings. Beth felt guilty when she realized how much her parents looked forward to seeing her each weekend. She understood that the house was bleak when she went away, and her conscience was troubled.
Besides her school studies, Beth was getting some practical experience in being a caregiver, for she had volunteered to spend several hours each night with Angie Reymond, an elderly friend of her grandmother who needed someone to stay with her while her daughter was at work. Angie’s income was limited, and she could only afford to hire a person to stay during the day. Beth didn’t mind sitting with the elderly woman because she could do her homework there as well as at her grandmother’s home.
Several boys at school had noticed her, but none had captivated her thoughts like Clark. Each day on the bus, he continued to show interest in her but she continued to ignore him—not that she personally had any ill will toward the Randolphs, but she didn’t want to irritate her father, whom she loved in spite of his prejudices.
One Saturday afternoon in late October, Beth was walking in the woods atop Randolph Mountain, unwilling to stay inside on such a beautiful day. Autumn was waning, and she wanted to enjoy the last vestiges of the season’s beauty before a windy winter blast rolled down the mountain, bringing drabness and isolation.
She had been climbing steadily, and the afternoon was warm, so Beth pulled off her jacket and leaned against a towering oak as she peered through the trees at the Cumberland River Valley to the west. A haze hung over the valley, but she could see the crowded, narrow streets of Harlan, and her school building in the middle of town.
“Hi, Beth Warner.” The voice startled her, and she looked around wildly. She hadn’t suspected that anyone else would be hiking today. “Look up. I’m in the tree.”
Beth recognized his voice, and she looked upward to see Clark peering over the edge of a hunting platform, loftily perched in the branches of the large oak tree.
“Hi, Clark Randolph.”
“Come on up,” he said, indicating the homemade ladder attached to the tree. “The view is a lot better from up here.”
“Warners don’t talk to Randolphs.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why won’t Warners talk to Randolphs?”
Beth thought for a while, and she laughed. “I don’t have the least idea.”
“Neither do I,” Clark said. “Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
Throwing caution to the wind, Beth set her foot on the first rung of the ladder, thus charting her course along a path that had brought her pleasure and comfort, but which had also caused much of the grief and loneliness she was experiencing today. She hadn’t thought of the long-range consequences that day, however.
With an outstretched hand, Clark was waiting to help her onto the platform where he knelt.
“What are you doing up here?” Beth asked, glancing around with interest.
“Looking into your pretty green eyes,” he said.
“Oh, be serious. I mean, what were you doing before I came along?”
“Building a deer stand for hunting season. I had one down the mountain a ways, but it’s crumbled into ruins.” He pointed proudly to what he had already accomplished—a square platform built from rough lumber, with a miniature shack in the middle of it. “I built the little room to sit in if it’s raining or snowing. Most of the time, I’ll sit here on the platform and watch.”
“Do you own this mountain?”
He laughed. “Mining companies own most of these woods, but some of the owners allow hunting.”
“I never come in the woods during deer season.”
“A good idea—it’s too dangerous. But that’s three weeks away. You can ramble around until then.”
Beth sat beside Clark and they dangled their feet over the side of the platform.
“How are you getting along at school, Beth?”
“All right. I’ve been studying hard, and my grades for the first grading period were tops. My parents are really proud of me.”
“I’ve heard how you’ve been sitting at night with Mrs. Reymond. Not many girls would give up their evenings to sit with an old lady. I hear she’s kinda grouchy, too.”
Beth laughed. “She is, but I’m used to grouchy old people. My daddy is grouchy with everyone except me. It’s because they don’t feel very well, so I just overlook it.”
Clark’s admiration for her was evident in his eyes. “You’re a caring person, Beth. I admire that.”
His candor embarrassed Beth, and she didn’t know how to answer him, so she lifted a hand and brushed back her long hair nervously.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Beth, but you acted like you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I was afraid to talk to you. My folks weren’t too keen on my going to school in Harlan anyway, and I figured if Daddy heard I’d been talking to a Randolph, that would be a good excuse to take me out of school.”
“So it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends?”
Beth shook her head, lowering her eyes.
With a gentle hand, Clark turned her head to face him. “Answer me, Bethie,” his deep voice insisted.
“No, I liked you right from the start,” she admitted, her gaze meeting his brown eyes unflinchingly. “Until I found out who you were.”
“These old feuds are foolish, anyway,” Clark said.
“I’ve never known what caused the trouble. Daddy always gets so angry when I ask him, I’ve stopped mentioning the Randolphs.”
“Best I can figure out, the Warners and the Randolphs fought on different sides in the Civil War, and they wouldn’t let their differences die when the war ended.”
“That’s over a hundred years ago!”
“But it was a common situation in many border states where loyalties were divided. Even after the fighting ended, older people harped on the past and kept the bitterness stirred up.”
“Like my daddy,” Beth said. “He doesn’t have anything else to think about.”
“Then you will be my friend?” Clark persisted.
“If we can keep my family from finding out, but that won’t be easy.”
“We can meet up here until it’s really cold, and then we’ll think of something else. I feel as if I just have to be with you, Beth. Something happened to my heart that first day when you got on the school bus, and I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts since.”
Beth felt her face flushing, and she couldn’t meet Clark’s eyes, but she didn’t resist when he took her hand in his. She didn’t doubt the truth of Clark’s words, for hadn’t she felt the same? Some of her girlfriends would talk about crushes they had on boys. Some even believed they were in love. Beth had never felt that way about a boy. But the way she felt about Clark was different. All new. A giddy feeling, yet serious and even frightening. Did she love Clark? Was that what had happened to her?
She hoped not, because Clark Randolph was not the kind of person who could share her plans for the future. He intended to work in the coal mines as soon as he graduated from high school, and she never wanted to marry a miner.
“What about your family, Clark? Is your father a miner?”
“He used to be, but he was hurt in a slate fall when I was just a boy, and he’s not been able to work since. I have two little sisters, and my mother