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Hobbs will make it home for our first Thanksgiving as a family. It looks like we could have the whole mountain up here for dinner.” I patted the turkey.
    “We may just have to do that.” Jack tipped his hat.
    “Tell Aunt Ida not to worry about a thing. I’ve got it under control. I’m going to cook like my mama does every holiday.” The ache started in my chest real sharp like. Was she cooking since I wasn’t there? Knowing her, she was and feeding the whole dern soup line.
    Jack gave a easy laugh. “Oh, Aunt Ida will cook. You couldn’t stop her. We may just have to feed the mountain.”
    “What about the Connors?” The name hung in the air.
    “What about them?” He looked away.
    “Will Maynard come home?”
    “They’ll make do like every year since this Depression began. But they won’t have Maynard. It’s too risky.”
    “Where’d he go?” A lump formed in my throat.
    “After that night, he left, went off the mountain. Who knows? He was stupid.”
    See, what Jack or nobody, especially Hobbs, knew was Isaw Maynard early the morning after the fire. He was making his way down the mountain, hugging the side of the road. I was walking up the drive. I couldn’t sit in that house and went out for fresh air.
    For a second, he looked like a deer about to be shot, but his shoulders relaxed. “Mrs. Pritchard.” He tipped his hat.
    “Mr. Connor.” I nodded.
    “It was mighty fine knowing you.” He pulled on his brim.
    “Yes sir, it was a pleasure to know you.”
    He walked on by and that was the end of that. I prayed that he’d get far away and never be caught by Hobbs.
    “You know what the old folks say about leaving?” Jack’s words pulled me back to the kitchen.
    If I told him about Maynard, he’d keep my secret. “No.”
    “Once a person leaves the mountain, they never come back, not really. They’re lost forever.” And somehow I knew that to be the truth.
The work in the kitchen filled my time. I made sweet potato pies, ash potato salad, cornbread dressing, and even some collard greens. On toward evening, clouds moved in across the western sky. A thought took a hold of me. I wrapped one of those pies in a pretty tea towel and set out down the road.
    The Connor cabin was quiet, but I knew many pairs of eyes were watching me as I walked across their yard. The door opened as I reached out to knock.
    The woman looked much older up close. Her forehead was covered in a mess of wrinkles. “Can I help you?” The proper words sliced the air.
    “I brought you a pie for Thanksgiving.”
    The woman looked at the plate like it was death itself. “Why?”
    I took a step back. Why indeed? This wasn’t how I imagined the visit would go. “I wanted to share, be neighborly for the holiday.”
    The woman watched me like I might bare teeth and bite her.
    “I miss my mama,” I blurted like some kind of kid. “She always shared a pie with a neighbor on Thanksgiving. I’m sorry if I bothered you.” I turned to leave.
    “Don’t go away hurt.” The woman’s voice was a tad softer. “But child, you got yourself in one situation when you married Hobbs Pritchard. Don’t you know that? I think you must be a smart girl. You can’t come up this mountain married to the meanest man and expect folks to like you. I bet your mama didn’t want you to marry him.”
    “I just wanted to know if Maynard is okay.”
    The woman’s face turned sad. “It’s your husband that ran my boy off.”
    “What happened?” All of a sudden I needed to know what Maynard did that was so bad.
    “Don’t play dumb.”
    “I don’t know nothing. Hobbs keeps it from me.”
    “He’s a moonshiner, girl, and a thief. It’s the thieving part that makes us hate him. Maynard gave Hobbs something to think on by burning his still. He was looking out for his family.” Her voice grew loud and angry. “I don’t want your pie or nothing Hobbs owns, Missy Mae.” She turned a mean look on me. “You want to know what all he’s