Excerpt from The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Pa, I have me a good job making us twenty--eight dollars a month delivering books to folks who's needing the book learning in these hills."

"I'm back to work now that the mine is running full time." Pa pinched the wick.

"They still need me—-"

"I need you safe. You could catch your death in this cold, same as your mama. You're all I have, Cussy, all that's left of our kind. The very last one, Daughter."

"Pa, please."

He reached down and brushed a lock of hair away from my eyes. "I won't see you riding that ol' mount up and down them dangerous passes and into dark hollers and cold creeks just because the govern-ment wants to push their foolish book airs into our hills here."

"It's safe."

"You could be struck ill. Just look what happened to that book woman and her mount. Foolhardy, and the poor steed was punished for her temerity."

Snow gusted, swirled, eddying across the leaf--quilted yard.

"It was along in years, Pa. My rented mount is spry and sure--footed enough. And I'm fine and fit as any." I glanced down at my darkening hands, a silent blue betrayal. Quickly, I slipped them under the folds of fabric, forcing myself to stay calm. "Sound. Please. It's decent money—-"

"Where's your decency? Some of the womenfolk are com-plaining you're carrying dirty books up them rocks."

"Weren't true. It's called literature, and proper enough," I tried to explain like so many times before. "Robinson Crusoe, and Dickens, and the likes, and lots of Popular Mechanics and Woman's Home Companion even. Pamphlets with tips on fixing things busted. Patterns for sewing. Cooking and cleaning. Mak-ing a dollar stretch. Important things, Pa. Respectable—-"

"Airish. It ain't respectable for a female to be riding these rough hills, behaving like a man," he said, a harshness rumbling his voice.

"It helps educate folks and their young'uns." I pointed to a small sack in the corner filled with magazines I'd be delivering in the next days. "Remember the National Geographic article about Great--Grandpa's birthplace over in Cussy, France, the one I'm named for? You liked it—-"

"Dammit, you have earned your name and driven me to nothing but cussing with your willful mind. I don't need a damn book to tell me about our kin's birthplace or your given name. Me and your mama know'd it just fine." He raised a brow, worrying some more with the flame on the courting candle, resting the height of the taper to where he wanted. And as always and depending on the man who came call-ing, how long he wanted the old timekeeper to stay lit.

Pa looked off toward the creek, then back at the candle, and set his sights once more over to the banks, studying. He fought between rais-ing the timekeeping candle and lowering it, mumbling a curse, and setting it somewhere in the middle. A taper would be cranked up tall to burn for a lengthy visit, or tamped down short for any beau Elijah Carter didn't favor as a good suitor.

"Pa, people want the books. It's my job to tend to the folks who are hungry for the learning."

He lifted the courting candle. "A woman ought to be near the home fires tending that."

"But if I marry, the WPA will fire me. Please, I'm a librarian now. Why, even Eleanor Roosevelt approves—-"

"The First Lady ain't doing a man's job—-ain't my unwed daugh-ter—-and ain't riding an ornery ass up a crooked moun-tain."

"People are learning up there." Again, I glimpsed my hands and rubbed them under the quilt. "Books are the best way to do that—-"

"The best thing they need is food on their tables. Folks here are hungry, Daughter. The babies are starving and sickly, the old folks are dying. We're gnawing on nothing but bone teeth here. Not two weeks ago, widow Caroline Barnes walked nine miles for naught to save her babies up there."

Excerpted from The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Cheryl Richardson. Copyright © 2019 by Cheryl Richardson. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.