“That’s right, sweetheart,” Edie said, sliding in beside Claire. “It’s very important that we sit quietly and listen to the Lord.”
“Momma says He talks in a still, small voice.”
“Your momma’s right.” Beau dropped his arm around Claire’s tiny shoulders and drew her close. And what was the Lord going to tell him about this morning? He glanced over the child’s head to where Edie sat. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” A light flush of color infused her cheeks as she lowered her gaze to her gloves. She undid a tiny seed pearl button along the heel of her hand, then gently tugged at each finger until the glove slipped off her hand.
When did removing a glove become so utterly feminine? He stared at the pulpit. Edie Michaels made him think too much. Between the conversation in the break room and the German-American patient that followed, Beau’s mind had bounced around like a ball made of rubber.
“Where’s your mother?” Beau asked Claire as she straightened her dress.
“She had an emergency meeting of the church’s ladies auxiliary. Dr. Lovinggood asked to address them this morning about a dire situation,” Edie answered, setting her Bible carefully on her lap.
The polio outbreak, probably. Over the last week, they’d seen several new cases of the virus in the emergency room. Most cases had been mild, not even necessitating a hospital stay. But the threat of an epidemic still existed.
“Then how did y’all get here?” He’d walked the three miles so his aunt would have the truck to get to church.
“Ms. Edie drove us. Momma got a ride with Annabelle Smith’s mother to the meeting,” Claire answered, snuggling under his arm.
The tinkling of piano keys signaled the beginning of the service, thankfully. Claire pressed against his side, providing a natural barrier between him and Edie. But he couldn’t help noticing the soft tremble of her voice as they sang, or the way her fingers knew instantly where to turn when the pastor read out the Bible verse.
Beau fumbled with his own Bible before finally closing it, turning his attention to Pastor Williams as he gave the message from the Bible. He settled back into the pew, the peace he always found in learning from the sermon flowing through him. It had been the same at the prison camp, this sense of calm joy that surpassed anything he’d ever known.
Claire clung to his side, listening intently, her strawberry-blond head pillowed on his chest. Two pale pink patches blossomed across her cheeks and nose. Is this what it felt like to love unconditionally? He’d read about it in the Bible, but never having experienced it, he wasn’t sure it existed for everyone.
“Does she look flushed to you?”
Beau glanced over to find Edie staring down at Claire with concerned eyes. It was one of the first things he noticed about her, the way she mothered Claire. That and her protective nature. Edie had turned out to be a lovely surprise, unaware of her beauty, kind with a sweet nature.
Very different from the woman who’d come after him with a poker.
He brushed his hand across Claire’s forehead. “She’s a little warm, but it’s kind of hot in here.”
She handed him a replica of the paper fan most of the congregation were waving like flags on Flag Day. Did the woman think he wasn’t capable of caring for his cousin? “Thank you.”
Before he knew it, the choir director had the congregation stand for the invitation. Edie sang with a gentle sort of reverence that tugged at him, while Claire’s childish voice added sweetness to the blend of sounds.
After the last note died, Beau glanced down at the upturned face of his little cousin. “I guess your mother’s still busy with the meeting. How would you like to spend the day with me?”
“Really?” the little girl squealed.
“Excuse me, but Merrilee asked me to watch Claire this afternoon.” Edie wrapped an arm around the child’s slight shoulders. “She said something about math homework.”
Beau frowned at Edie. Did the woman really think he couldn’t handle a ten-year-old child? “I’m sure Aunt Merri wouldn’t mind if I took her off for a little while. I’ll have her back in plenty of time to do her schoolwork.”
“What are you going to do?”
Claire’s face glowed when she stared up at him. “Yeah, Beau. What are we going to do?”
Do? He’d never really thought about it. It wasn’t like he’d had a lot of experience entertaining little girls before. What did they like to do for fun?
“Maybe we could go home, and I could make the two of you a picnic while you change out of your good clothes.”
“Maybe Kolb Farm? I’ve always wanted to go there.” Claire blurted out.
A picnic? He would have never thought something so simple would make his little cousin so excited. He stole a look at Edie. She didn’t look as if this change of events bothered her much, but there was something in the way she held herself, a stiffness that spoke of loneliness that pulled at him. “Would you like to go with us, Edie?”
“Oh, yes, Ms. Edie! You have to go with us!” Claire swayed from one foot to the other.
“I thought I’d go in to the office today,” Edie said.
Why would she go into work on a Sunday? Was it because she had B-29 plans that needed configuring, or something more sinister? The idea didn’t sit well with him. “Why don’t you come along, at least for a little while? Then when I take Claire home to do her homework, I can drop you off at the plant.”
“Well,” Edie started, looking a bit uncomfortable.
“That’s perfect, Ms. Edie. Oh, please come with us.”
Any reservations she might have had were forgotten in her smile. “You’ve talked me into it.”
Claire commanded the conversation the entire walk to the old truck, talking about the kite she hoped to fly today and some of the rooms she wanted to visit at Kolb Farm. Beau couldn’t help but notice that Edie listened with great interest, almost with a pride reserved for a close family member, like a cousin or an aunt.
As they approached the truck, Edie handed him the keys, their fingers brushing slightly, sending a thrill of excitement through the pit of his stomach. There were worse things than sharing a picnic with a lovely woman, even a German one. Beau opened the passenger-side door and waited until Claire scooted to the middle of the bench seat before turning to Edie.
“Beau?” She stared into the bed of the truck.
Beau glanced over the metal siding. There, with his dark eyes wide with adventure and fear, lay a young Negro boy.
* * *
“Do you have enough room, Claire Bear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She looked up at Edie with innocent eyes. “Why is that boy sitting in the back of the truck?”
Edie glanced back at the little boy huddled in the bed of the truck, then at Beau. “I’m not sure. Why didn’t Ernie sit up here with us? There’s plenty of room.”
Beau glanced right, then left before pulling out on the dirt road that led west out of Marietta Square. “My guess is he doesn’t want to take a chance of anyone seeing him with us.”
“Why would Gertie pull this kind of stunt?” She glanced through the window again at the child. He didn’t seem to mind riding in the back of the truck. In fact, from the wide smile that spread across the lower part of his face, she got the feeling he was enjoying himself.
“You heard him. She wanted to make sure we’d come to the neighborhood lunch today.” Beau glanced over his shoulder. “Probably safer for him to be in the back if he happens to be seen by the wrong sort of people.”
“I don’t understand this.” She stared out the window, the newly plowed fields and blooming trees flying by, though not too fast. Beau obviously didn’t want to chance injuring the boy. “Why is it always the bullies who control how everyone else behaves?”
He didn’t answer, though his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Stupid question, Edie. If anyone knew what living with a bully of a man was like, it was Beau. And yet, he wasn’t the least bit like his father.
She stole a glance at him. How she wished life had been easier for him, but then he wouldn’t be the man he was today.
A man whom she had grown to care for very much.
Beau’s next comment broke through her thoughts. “Truth is, I think Ernie’s a bit nervous. He’s more than likely going to be in trouble when he gets home.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Gertie talked him into this. And little boys lose track of time.” Edie nuzzled Claire’s hair. “I know little girls do.”
“What would cause a young lady like yourself to lose track of the clock?”
The light teasing in his voice brought a smile to her lips. “Stickball.”
Claire gasped. “Girls don’t play stickball!”
His laughter rumbled throughout the cab of the truck, surrounding her like a heartbeat, made her stomach do a pleasant little tumble. “Some girls do, brat. In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing Ms. Edie play.”
“Maybe you will,” she teased. “I still play when the weather is good.”
Beau glanced out the window, then back at her. “Maybe Ernie can get a few of his friends together and we could play this afternoon.”
“You think so, Cousin Beau?” Claire’s eyes danced with excitement at the possibility. “Could I learn how to play?”
He laughed again, but this time she joined him.
Bumping down the dirt road toward the Stephenses’ house, the conversation shifted to everyday things: the latest movie at the Strand, the announcement that Bob Hope was coming to the bomber plant to sell war bonds, the new batch of soldiers admitted to the hospital. For those few minutes, Edie forgot about the situation with her parents, enjoying the comfortable rhythm of their chat. By the time they pulled up in front of the Stephenses’ home, Beau had talked her into an evening at the movies, though she’d admitted to herself, it hadn’t taken much convincing.
As she sat waiting, watching Beau walk around the front of the truck to her door, she was struck again by how handsome he was. Oh, the jeans and button-up shirt he wore now reminded her of the boy he must have been, ready for a day of playing in the sunshine.
A vast difference from the devastatingly attractive man who’d sat next to her at church this morning. The dark suit and tie had fit him to perfection, but it was his expression, as if each point taught from the scriptures was precious. It had confirmed everything she’d learned about Beau in the past weeks—that he wasn’t as much of a troublemaker as he thought himself to be, but the brunt of his father’s misguided anger.
Who, despite the odds, had grown into a kind and decent man. Why did the thought of an evening with Beau Daniels make her feel all bubbly inside, floating away like a balloon that had broken free, dancing on wispy clouds, reaching for the heavens?
She didn’t have time to ponder the question. The door opened and Beau held his hand out to her. “Ready for some of the best cooking you’ll ever have in your life?”
A playful gleam danced in her eyes. “Are you saying Merrilee’s not the best cook in town?”
“And get myself in trouble? Oh, no, I know the hand that feeds me.” Her fingers slid across his palm, sending a pleasant tingle up her arm that left her breathless. “But these women give her a run for their money.”
Beau closed the door while Edie stepped away, busying her shaking hands by brushing at the creases in her pants. Was she the only one left discombobulated by this attraction, or did Beau feel it, too? Her cheeks went warm at the thought.
“Thanks for the ride, mister.” Ernie vaulted over the side of the truck and ran.
“I guess he was in a hurry,” Beau said.
“Can I go, too?” Claire eyed a group of young girls swinging a long jump rope.
The two adults exchanged glances before Edie answered. “Yes you may, but stay close. No wandering off into the woods, you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Claire tossed over her shoulder, skipping away.
Beau leaned back against the frame of the truck, his gaze traveling down the line of clapboard houses ending with a field shaded on one side by a large magnolia tree. “First time I came out here, there weren’t more than a couple of houses on this road.”
She leaned back beside him, the heated metal of the truck stinging her skin through her cotton shirt. “When was that?”
“About a year after I met George.”
“You must have been good friends. The Stephenses have a photograph of the three of you on their mantel. You were at the lake.”
“Sawyer Lake. We were teaching Gertie how to swim.” Beau snorted, his hands stretching and flexing at his sides. “That was the night I left town. Wasn’t too long after that that I heard George ran off.”
She turned; her shoulder pressed against the glass window. “Did he ever talk to you about leaving before you left?”
“He wanted to join the army when he got out of school, but he shouldn’t have left like he did.” Looping one ankle over the other, Beau crossed his arms over his chest as if to protect his heart. “I had to leave home. If I’d stuck around, people might have been hurt.”
People? As if Beau were talking about someone other than himself. Had James Daniels’s threats against others sent Beau packing all those years ago with the hope that in leaving home, he could prevent others from his father’s wrath?
“George should have stuck around, at least made sure Gertie was okay.” He took a deep breath, then let it go. “If I had stuck around, he might not have felt the need to run away. Then he would have had the life he was supposed to have.”
How could she argue with such twisted logic? But she had to try. “I think you’re taking too much credit for George’s decision.”
“You don’t understand.”
But she wanted to.
“He made the decision to leave his home, not you.”
Dropping his arms to his side, Beau scrubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “But Dad told me he’d kill him if I hung out with him anymore.”
So that’s why Beau ran away, to protect his friend. Sounded like something the Beau she was getting to know would do. “It was still George’s choice.”
He didn’t look completely convinced. “I’ll think about it.”
Well, it was a start in the right direction. Once he went through all the facts as a man, not a boy of sixteen dealing with a tyrannical father, he’d realize the truth—that he wasn’t to blame for his father’s actions.
Then why couldn’t she believe that about her own situation?
Edie pushed away from the truck, grabbing him by the shirtsleeve, and tugged at him. “Now, come on. It’s rude to keep the Stephenses and everybody waiting when they’ve gone to all this trouble planning a party for us.”
He tilted his head to the side, his cockeyed smile causing her heart to stumble against her ribs. “You just want a piece of whatever dessert Mrs. Stephens made.”
“I bet I’m not the only one.”
Just as she was about to drop her grasp on his shirt, Beau snagged her hand, threading his fingers between hers. Her breath caught as he gave her a wide smile. “I’m glad I’ve got you on my side.”
Edie nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She was in trouble here, in real peril of losing her heart to this man. Well, she just couldn’t let that happen. Returning his smile, she squeezed his fingers. “Come on then. Let’s go have some fun.”
Chapter Twelve
“Now make sure you get lots of that smoked pork. We’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
Beau nodded, his mouth full of Mrs. Anderson’s potato salad. Some of the best cooks in the entire county lived in this neighborhood, and they all seemed to be determined to fatten him up, not that Merrilee’s cooking hadn’t added a few pounds to his frame. A year ago, the most food he’d see in a day consisted of a forkful of spam and a small block of chocolate, if he was lucky.
He glanced across the makeshift tables, shuffling through the crowd until finally finding Edie. She stood under t
he shade of a water oak, talking with a small group of young women her age, a few he barely recognized from years ago. She pumped a cardboard fan in one hand, but the other flitted about like a butterfly floating aimlessly on the air. His arm still tingled under his shirtsleeve where she had touched him today.
Beau took a sip of tea, then wiped his mouth with his napkin. Nothing had gone according to his plan with this woman. He was supposed to be finding out if she posed a threat to his family, if she was using Merrilee’s house to pass information about the B-29 to the Germans.
The problem was, he liked her more than he wanted to admit. But how could he stop himself? Something about her tugged at him, drawing him to her in a way that intrigued him. Kind and smart, there was a genuineness about her that made him want to be a better person. Her warm rich laughter echoed through the underbrush around the trees, causing a pleasant tug on his heart.
He liked her, but that was it. So what was it about her that made him open up, talk about the past when he’d kept it locked away inside all these years? He wasn’t sure, only that she made it easy, not judging him for his mistakes, pointing out things he’d never thought of before.
Did Edie truly believe he wasn’t at fault for George leaving? Was it really his friend’s choice?
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Beau glanced up to find Gertie standing beside him. “Just a penny?”
“I’d give you a nickel, but I’ve got my vast fortune tied up in war bonds.” The woman flopped down on the bench beside him.
“The neighborhood really outdid themselves with this fine spread y’all laid out today.” Beau forked another bite of potato salad into his mouth. “Even though your method for getting us here was a little suspect.”
“Maybe, but we had to make sure the two of you came. How else are we going to show our appreciation for the work you’ve done getting us telephone service?” She stretched her long legs out under the makeshift table, cradling her hands in her lap. “I mean, who would have believed it, the Stephenses getting a telephone?”
He motioned toward Edie. “That’s who you should be thanking. She’s the one who wouldn’t leave Ben Cantrell alone about stringing the lines.”
Hearts in Hiding Page 13