Cotton shook his head. "No, what you can do is sell the mineral rights. And keep the
land. And gas isn't like coal mining. They won't have to destroy the land."
She shook her head stubbornly. "Had us a good harvest. Don't need no help from
nobody."
Cotton looked down and spoke slowly. "Louisa, I hope you outlive all of us. But the fact
is, if those children come into the farm while they're still under age, it'd be right difficult
for them to get along." He paused and then added quietly, "And Amanda may need
special care."
Louisa nodded slightly at his words but said nothing.
Later, she watched Cotton drive off, while Oz and Lou playfully chased his convertible
down the road, and Eugene diligently worked on some farm equipment. This was the sum
total of Louisa's world. Everything seemed to move along smoothly, yet it was all very
fragile, she well knew. The woman leaned against the door with a most weary face.
The Southern Valley men came the very next afternoon.
Louisa opened the door and Judd Wheeler stood there, and beside him was a little man
with snake eyes and a slick smile, dressed in a well-cut three-piece suit.
"Miss Cardinal, my name's Judd Wheeler. I work for Southern Valley Coal and Gas. This
is Hugh Miller, the vice president of Southern."
"And you want my natural gas?" she said bluntly.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Wheeler.
"Well, it's a right good thing my lawyer's here," she said, glancing at Cotton, who had
come into the kitchen from Amanda's bedroom.
"Miss Cardinal," said Hugh Miller as they sat down, "I don't believe in beating around the
bush. I understand that you've inherited some additional family responsibilities, and I
know how trying that can be. So I am most happy to offer you ... a hundred thousand
dollars for your property. And I've got the check, and the paperwork for you to sign, right
here."
Louisa had never held more than five dollars cash money in her whole life, so "My
goodness!" was all she could manage.
"Just so we all understand," Cotton said, "Louisa would just be selling the underlying
mineral rights."
Miller smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid for that kind of money, we expect to get the
land too."
"I ain't gonna do that," said Louisa.
Cotton said, "Why can't she just convey the mineral rights? It's a common practice up
here."
"We have big plans for her property. Gonna level the mountain, put in a good road
system, and build an extraction, production, and shipping facility. And the longest durn
pipeline anybody's seen outside of Texas. We've spent a while looking. This property is
perfect. Don't see one negative."
Louisa scowled at him. " 'Cept I ain't selling it to you. You ain't scalping this land like
you done everywhere else."
Miller leaned forward. "This area is dying, Miss Cardinal. Lumber gone. Mines closing.
Folks losing their jobs. What good are the mountains unless you use them to help people?
It's just rock and trees."
"I got me a deed to this land says I own it, but nobody really own the mountains. I just
watching over 'em while I here. And they give me all I need."
Miller looked around. "All you need? Why, you don't even have electricity or phones up
here. As a Godfearing woman I'm sure you realize that our creator gave us brains so that
we can take advantage of our surroundings. What's a mountain compared to people
making a good living? Why, what you're doing is going against the Scriptures, I do
believe."
Louisa stared at the little man and looked as though she might laugh. "God made these
mountains so's they last forever. Yet he put us people here for just a little-bitty time.
Now, what does that tell you?"
Miller looked exasperated. "Look here now, my company is looking to make a substantial
investment in bringing this place back to life. How can you stand in the way of all that?"
Louisa stood. "Just like I always done. On my own two feet.
Cotton followed Miller and Wheeler to their car.
"Mr. Longfellow," said Miller, "you ought to talk your client into accepting our
proposal."
Cotton shook his head. "Once Louisa Mae Cardinal makes up her mind, changing it is
akin to trying to stop the sun from rising."
"Well, the sun goes down every night too," said Miller.
Cotton watched as the Southern Valley men drove off.
The small church was in a meadow a few miles from the Cardinal farm. It was built of
rough-hewn timbers and had a small steeple, one modest window of ordinary glass, and
an abundance of charm. It was time for a down-on-the-ground church service and supper,
and Cotton had driven Lou, Oz, and Eugene. They called it down-on-the-ground, Cotton