Sunrise Point

to town, uphill, was another story. The idea of a bicycle wasn’t going to be that helpful on the way home, especially if her legs were tired.
    Rather than a used bicycle, she spent what little money she could scrape together for some of the rubber boots Maxie suggested. She had a small, used umbrella stroller she could give to Adie for the baby. Adie Clemens wasn’t strong enough to carry Fay around in the backpack; Fay weighed eighteen pounds already.
    They had worked out a system for babysitting—Adie would walk three houses down to Nora’s in the early morning and stay with her sleeping children, give them breakfast, dress them and walk them down to day care, pushing little Fay in the stroller. “This will help you commit to your walking everyday even if I’m not here to remind you and walk around town with you,” Nora said. “Your blood pressure and cholesterol is so much improved since we started walking.”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am,” Adie teased.
    The early hour was no strain on Adie because she was an early riser; she’d come at 5:00 a.m. with her book or morning paper and her cup of tea. It was perfect as Nora wanted to be extra early at the orchard to prove a point—that she’d do everything possible to do a good job. By Nora’s calculations, she could afford day care, barely, plus give Adie twenty dollars a week for her help. Adie was just squeaking by on her Social Security income. She said she didn’t want any money, but Nora knew it would help. Adie could use a little more money each week for necessities.
    Then came the real miracle. Reverend Kincaid told her he had arranged a partial “scholarship” for day care for Fay and preschool for Berry. It nearly brought tears to her eyes and she couldn’t believe it, but apparently the church had taken on the challenge of helping some of the local working mothers to afford help with the children so they could work. It was a healthy discount and made Nora’s challenges so much more manageable. “There’s no question in my mind, once you’re on your feet, you’ll be joining the cause and helping others,” Reverend Kincaid said.
    “You can count on that,” she said. “I just can’t believe every break I get from this town. I know I don’t deserve it.”
    “We’re going to work on that attitude. You deserve it as much as anyone,” he said.
    That first morning of work, as she left Adie before dawn, she said, “I’ll get a phone number at the orchard that you can call if you have problems.” But she wasn’t sure what she’d do if a call came. Where would she be? Out in the trees somewhere, far away from the house and office? And if it was important, was she going to run home? Uphill? “Of course if you have an emergency, you’ll call Mel Sheridan at the clinic, right?”
    “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much,” Adie said. “I’m not as wimpy as I look. I have phone numbers for people in town. I’ll take the girls to the school at 9:00 a.m. and Martha and I are going to pick them up at five and bring them home for a snack. You’ll be along about that time or soon after, I expect.” Then she smiled. Adie had the sweetest smile. “We’ll be fine.”
    Sometimes Adie seemed so old and frail, unlike Maxie Cavanaugh who looked like she would probably live forever. Just the news that Martha was going to pitch in gave her a little more peace of mind.
    It was her plan to arrive at the orchard before the sun was up, before any of the other workers, and it hadn’t been easy. It was scary descending the mountain in the darkness, the fog gathering around her as she got lower and lower. She heard lots of rustling, hooting, squeaking—the birds were just waking up and she wasn’t sure who else was out there, concealed in the trees, thinking about breakfast. She was terrified of being eaten by some wild animal, so she kept her head down and her feet moving rapidly.
    Finally the gate and orchard came into sight and she relaxed for a moment. There were some lights on in the back of the big house when she got there, but no movement anywhere else. Nora went to the building that held the office and sat on the ground, leaning against the door. She wanted to make a point to Mr. Cavanaugh, that she’d go the extra mile. And she got her wish—he came tromping out of the back porch of his big house followed by a golden dog, appearing through the morning mist as he walked toward the barn. She stood up from the ground.
    He stopped short when he