Draw and Order

by Cheryl Hollon

  Miranda went over to the counter and received her bear hug from the plump receptionist. Doris Ann Norris had worked at that desk longer than anyone could remember. It was rumored that Doris Ann’s father had been part of the construction crew that rebuilt the lodge in 1962 after a fire destroyed the original.

  It had taken Miranda quite a long time to win Doris Ann over to supporting the Paint & Shine cultural adventures. Doris Ann had a deep-seated loathing of alcoholic beverages of any kind. She was still against drink, but not against the painting classes that Miranda held out on the trails.

  “I found his bones.” Miranda felt her body shiver at the thought. “Ugh! It was awful. If Jennifer hadn’t scraped her hand at that spot, no telling how much longer he would have remained up there. I had nightmares about his bones last night.”

  “That wouldn’t have bothered me as much as getting stormbound on that mountain.” Doris Ann moved her head slowly from side to side. “I would have been terrified of being struck dead by lightning.”

  “It wasn’t really so bad. We holed up in that cavern. Luckily, Austin had the key since he included the pictograms as part of his lecture to my tour group. We were sheltered from the storm, but it was a long, cold night.”

  “How is your aunt taking this? I heard that Howard had a broke leg and died of exposure. That just doesn’t sound right to me. He should have been able to get back to the main trail and get help. Something isn’t right.”

  “That’s a good point. He was a strong, healthy fellow. Why didn’t he splint the leg and move away from the tree?” Miranda rubbed the back of her neck. A knot was beginning to form. That usually meant that something was bothering her. Maybe it was the constant comments from everyone about of his reputation as an expert woodsman. She didn’t personally know that. Could it be a family myth? Yep, that’s what was bothering her.

  Doris Ann began to fiddle with one of the logo pens that advertised Hemlock Lodge. “He stopped by here on the day he went missing. I’ll never forget that. He was in a strange mood. Well, not strange as much as he appeared to be angry about some big deal he was about to lose.”

  “What kind of deal? He was a college graduate, but I really don’t know very much about his career. I need to follow up on that with Mom and Aunt Ora.”

  “It wasn’t anything to do with local business. I know that. I still remember him turning purple and yelling at someone on his cell phone. It was almost bad enough for me to think about asking him to leave. But he calmed down and he told the man on the line that they were going to fix things later.”

  “Fix what?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Did you tell anyone about the argument after he disappeared?”

  “I did.” Doris Ann sat a little taller in her chair. “I tole that new deputy that the sheriff hired that year for traffic patrol. He swore that he would tell the sheriff. It looks like he didn’t. Sheriff Larson fired him at about the same time. He was an awful deputy, even worse than our current one.”

  Doris Ann saw a family coming down the hall dragging their luggage ready to check out. “Stop back later. I have more to tell you about that group you took up to paint the view of Battleship Rock.”

  Miranda left but didn’t know why on earth Doris Ann was holding back. She appeared to like to pass on information to Miranda, but this seemed urgent. She rubbed the back of her neck—still worried about something. She had an event to manage and it wouldn’t organize itself.

  When she arrived at the farmhouse, she could see that Ron was on the roof with a crowbar prying up shingles. The patch of stripped roof had grown to an enormous size—at least half the roofing on that side of the barn.

  She groaned. “I hope he’s not featherbedding this.” She didn’t have time to talk to him until after the golden wedding anniversary party finished. Miranda walked into the farmhouse and was relieved to see that the cake had been delivered. It was in the center of her dining table surrounded by stacks of dessert plates and an arrangement of the hodgepodge of forks that she had partly borrowed and also found at the nearest charity shop.

  She was determined to keep her business as true to the spirit of a past country life as possible. No plastics. No wipes. Cloth napkins. No single-use items that weren’t compostable. It had not been easy to increase her inventory for her usual eight to ten guests to serve a crowd of fifty. But she had done it.

  Her two cooks, sisters Lily and Iris, were in the kitchen making all kinds of traditional dishes that they had modified to serve as finger food. Only the cake would require forks. Just coming out of the oven were little squares her mother had called Cheesy Bits on sourdough toast. They were also serving traditionally fried chicken wings, squares of cheddar cheese on wooden skewers, and oodles of deviled eggs.

  Lily removed the hot cheesy squares onto a serving platter and had another tray ready for the oven. Iris was also loading a tray with the eggs.

  Miranda lined up the fifty four-ounce mason jars on the buffet in the dining room and put two cubes of ice in each along with her new moonshine cocktail made with equal portions of Cherry Ale-8, prosecco, and a pure corn moonshine she’d bought from her friend at the Limestone Distillery in Lexington. The mixture was a light pink. It matched the cake, which had been decorated with Grandmother May’s favorite pink roses.

  Miranda’s mother came downstairs dressed in a pink floral tea-length dress.

  “Mom, what’s up with the dress?”

  “I’m an invited guest and everyone is wearing their Sunday best in Grandmother May’s signature color, pink. I’ve known those two forever, you know. They only moved away last year to be closer to their sons. It’s not easy to manage being old way out here in the sticks. I am so happy that they’ve come back to Wolfe County for their golden anniversary.”

  Miranda felt a bit underdressed in her tour guide uniform, but she didn’t have either an appropriate dress or the time to change.

  “Hey, Mom. Did you know that Howard Cable was having some sort of business problems on the day that he went missing? Doris Ann says she overheard him on the phone having a loud argument.”

  “Oh, that.” Dorothy frowned. “I’ve heard that from my sister since then, but I never really paid much attention to it. I mean, she had to say something to support her thinking that he had left and would eventually return. He couldn’t have been happy and done that to her.”

  “Right. Also, I heard from the coroner that he had a broken leg. Would you have thought that it would have been so debilitating that he would have just stayed under a tree and not found a way to get back to the trail?”

  “Not in a million years. He would have had a first aid kit in his backpack and a good knife in his pocket. He would have made a splint to tie up the fracture, and he would have crafted a set of crutches made of branches and vines to get himself back to the trail. He wouldn’t have just sat there.”

  “Without a backpack, knife, or even identification, this is all wrong. My suspicion is that his death was planned beforehand.” Miranda involuntarily shivered at the thought.

  Dorothy sighed her great frustration. “I agree. Now, what are you doing about it?”

  “Do you remember what he studied in college and where he worked? Doris Ann thinks he was about to make a deal of some sort, but something was going wrong. She wants to talk to me after the party.”

  “My sister must not have known. She’s never said anything about his work, but then again, I didn’t ask her.”

  “Why are you making me drag this out of you. What did he study in college?”

  “I’m sorry. My brain doesn’t seem to be working right. I’m more upset than I thought. Let me think.” Dorothy bowed her head and put a hand on her forehead. “Right! It was geology. He got interested after one of the cows stepped on his foot and wrecked his ankle. Howard blew it off for a few days.”

  Miranda wrinkled her brow. “Wow, apparently he has an extremely high threshold for pain.”

  “That’s what the docto
r said when my sister finally dragged him into the clinic. That foot had to be wrapped and elevated for nearly a week. So, while he was in bed, he began reading some of the old histories about mining. He was particularly interested in the lost Swift silver mines.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “After he got his degree, he worked for one of the local oil companies as a location scout. He was very good at the job.”

  “So, not moving from the tree seems improbable give his high pain tolerance. Something prevented him.”

  Chapter 14

  Tuesday Afternoon, the Farmhouse

  The section of roof to be repaired had grown in size again by the time the last guest left the party. Miranda trotted around to the barn and stood below the tall ladder.

  “Ron! What are you doing? I don’t need the whole roof patched.”

  It took a moment, but Ron peered down to her from the edge of the roof. “These are all loose. They would go in the next big wind, and you get a lot of big wind up here in Pine Ridge.”

  Miranda cupped her hands around her mouth. “You can add more nails instead of stripping them off, right? That roofing is fairly new. A little wind shouldn’t have damaged everything up there. You need to only replace what is completely damaged.”

  Ron raised his eyebrows. “Well, I guess I could, but—”

  “I don’t have the money for that. Stop ripping off shingles!”

  “As you say. When can we go to the hardware store? I’m out of shingles and undercoating.”

  Miranda clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from cursing a blue streak. “I’ll be ready in about an hour. No more demolition. Do you hear me?”

  Ron nodded.

  Miranda returned to the kitchen and found Lily and Iris doing the washing up. Lily looked up. “You know he’ll keep tearing things up until you stop him?”

  “I know that. I gave him strict orders not to do anything but the hole, but, of course, we were busy with the party. It’s my own fault. I’m going to have to do something different.”

  Iris was drying the dessert plates with a dish towel and putting them away one by one. “Do you have anyone who could keep an eye on him? He’s really good, but needs constant watching.”

  “I’ll give that some thought.” Miranda would have asked Austin to keep Ron focused, but their disagreement caused her to hesitate.

  “What about your mom?” asked Iris. “It would give her something to do.”

  “And also make her feel useful,” added Lily.

  After Lily and Iris left, Miranda gave Sandy a good long walk to calm herself before she dealt with Ron. Before she stood in front of the barn, she heard the nail gun snugging down any loose shingles. That was good.

  She had met men like him all her life. They didn’t take direction from women very well. It was a bit strange because strong women were thick on the ground in Wolfe County. The first woman postmaster in the state had run her post office here for more than a decade in the sixties. No one batted an eye.

  The elected office of Wolfe County clerk had been held by a woman since right after World War II. It was a powerful position, and again no one batted an eye. Maybe it was Miranda herself. Was her attitude too demanding without being compassionate? Her introverted nature fought against social interactions. She could work on being more kind, more patient, more friendly. That wouldn’t hurt in any situation.

  As she looked back at her actions, her decision to move to New York City seemed both brave and reckless. She had dreamed of sharing her unique style of highland mountain paintings with the elite but hadn’t expected the complicated, insular, narrow-minded politics. Skating through art classes at Savannah College of Art and Design was thin preparation for the sophistication of the coldly polite rejections that her work met in the city.

  Living there had been a constant penny-pinching struggle, but at the same time a delight to be in an epicenter of power, diversity, culture, and liberation.

  Returning to her family’s roots highlighted the ways that she had changed. She loved being a modern woman, but she also admired the old-fashioned ways of her country family.

  It took about two hours to drive Ron down to the hardware store, pick up the supplies he needed, pay for them, load them into the van, and unload them into the barn.

  Dorothy appeared just as the last of the supplies were unloaded. “Hi, Ron. I haven’t seen you in years.”

  Ron turned to face Dorothy and whipped the hat off his head, “Howdy, Dorothy. I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.”

  Miranda was surprised to watch her mom blush at the compliment. Did they have a history?

  “You’re a sweetie, Ron. You’ve always had a lovely way with words.” Dorothy turned to Miranda. “I’ll set another place for supper.” She headed back toward the house.

  Ron stood there for a moment, then put his hat back on. “You don’t mind if I doss down here in the barn, do you? It would save me a lot of hassle getting a ride back out here. I can do that, of course, but it would be better if I could stay right here.”

  Miranda had a feeling this request was coming. She had noticed the rolled-up sleeping bag and mat when he unloaded his tools. “That’s fine. The loft has some fresh hay that would make a great mattress. I don’t know about rats. There hasn’t been a barn cat around for several years, and Sandy isn’t old enough to root them out, either.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m used to sleeping rough.”

  “Suit yourself. Come in for supper in about a half an hour.”

  Miranda and her mother had just finished cooking pork chops, collard greens, scalloped potatoes, and corn bread when a truck pulled into the driveway.

  “Anyone home?” called out Austin as he bounded up the steps. “It smells wonderful out here. What’s cooking?”

  Dorothy hollered from the kitchen, “Pork chops and all the fixings. Come on in.”

  Miranda whispered, “Mom, we’re not speaking at the moment. You can’t invite him for supper.”

  Dorothy whispered back, “Oh, yes, I can.” Then in a normal voice: “Come on back, Austin. We’re about to sit down. Miranda, call out back for Ron. I’m sure he hasn’t had anything decent to eat for days.”

  Miranda huffed. How did mothers do that? Completely take over a house that didn’t even belong to them. They must get the charm installed as soon as the first child is born. She escaped out the back door before she had to speak to Austin. “Ron,” she yelled, “supper’s ready. Come and get it.”

  No answer.

  “Ron,” she yelled even louder. “It’s time for supper. Come on down.”

  Still silence.

  She walked back into the pasture beside the barn so that she could see the roof. He wasn’t up there. “Ron! Where are you?”

  He might be using the rustic outhouse, so she circled around the barn to check. It was empty, but she made a mental note to give it a good clean in the morning and supply it with more toilet paper. She was on her way into the barn when she heard the groan.

  “Uhm.”

  “Ron!” Miranda rushed over to find Ron on the ground in the middle of the open barn doors. He was sitting up squeezing his ankle. She knelt on the dirt floor beside him. “Ron! What happened?”

  “Ow. I fell through a spot that looked solid. I was trying to drag myself to the house.” He panted like a racehorse. “It was gonna take a long time.”

  “Where’s that harness? It should have caught you.”

  “I don’t like ’em. They get in the way.” He groaned again. “I think my leg is broken.”

  “I’ll get help.” She pushed a stack of burlap sacks behind him so he could lie back a little, then sprinted for the back door of the house.

  “Mom! Austin! Ron’s fallen off the roof. He might a broke his leg. I’m calling for an ambulance to take him to Lexington.”

  “Where’s your first aid kit?” Austin asked. “In your uncle’s bedroom?”

  “Yes.” Miranda grabbed the phone from its charger on the k
itchen counter and dialed 911.

  “Nine one one. What is your emergency?”

  “My workman has fallen from the roof of the barn and I think he has broken his leg. He needs to go to the hospital. He might also have internal injuries. It was a long fall.”

  “I’ll contact your nearest emergency services and have them make a run out there.”

  Miranda gave the dispatcher directions to the farmhouse and was told that it would be between fifteen and thirty minutes before someone could arrive.

  She hung up and turned to her mom, who had an old quilt in her arms and was rummaging in the kitchen drawers for dish towels. Miranda grabbed the jar of moonshine from the counter. They both ran out the back of the house. Austin was kneeling beside Ron and had cut off the leg of Ron’s overalls to expose the injury.

  Austin looked up at Miranda. “Good. He needs a good wallop of your moonshine. He’s gonna need to take the edge off before the paramedics get here. Whatever they do is going to hurt.”

  “I’ve got it right here.” Miranda twisted open the lid and handed Ron the new jar.

  Ron reached for it but groaned again and dropped his arms. Miranda positioned the jar so that Ron could drink a few swigs. He coughed, collapsed back on the burlap sacks, then passed out.

  Dorothy covered him with the old quilt and sat back on her heels. She looked up at Austin. “That’s all we can do for now. How’s his leg?”

  “It’s probably fractured, but the bone feels at least intact. I can’t believe he dragged himself all the way out here.” Austin pointed to a section of Ron’s leg that was scraped up. “It’s probably right there. The real danger is internal bleeding.”

  Miranda stood and made tight fists. “I can’t believe he wouldn’t use the harness. He was wearing it when I left this morning.”

  Austin pressed his lips into a tight line. “These old-timers are set in their ways and just don’t care what the rules are.”