At the 66 station, she bought gas, got air in a tire, and talked for a while to a greasy, uncouth individual who made her angry. When I find out what it was he said to upset her, he’ll be sorry.
When he finished reading, he took an expensive Sheaffer fountain pen from his pocket and added another entry.
11:00 A.M. My beautiful Kathleen is hurting because the son of a bitch she’s married to has another woman. From the looks of the blonde in his car, he scraped the bottom of the barrel. My beautiful girl was faithful to him all during the war, and as soon as he gets home he takes up with a bleached-blonde floozy. He isn’t fit for her to wipe her feet on. She’s leaving now—going home. I wish I knew what it was that she needed from the store. I’d buy it and leave it on her porch tonight.
In the middle of the week Adelaide came out to tell Kathleen about the reception to be held for the new doctor.
“Please come, Kathleen,” she said after they sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m heading the welcoming committee. We’ll serve cake and coffee and iced tea. Claude is seeing to the cake.”
“He’s taking his duties as mayor seriously.”
“We’ve discovered he has talents other than making hamburgers.”
“Was this reception your idea or his?”
“Mine. I’m taking care of the decorations. I’m going to use my lace tablecloth, and Paul is polishing my mother’s silver service.”
“Silver service? This is going to be a fancy affair.”
“The service hasn’t been used since Mother died fifteen years ago. I’m not sure how it’s going to shine up; but Paul says it will, and he’s usually right.”
“When is this shindig you’re so excited about?” Kathleen smiled at the woman she loved like a sister and handed her a glass of iced tea.
“Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock. We’ve put posters in all the store windows. Dr. Perry arrived yesterday, and Claude took him out to Doc Herman’s house. The arrangement is that if he stays, he can buy the house for what the bank has in it. They took it and the clinic after Doc died.”
“I hope he stays after you’ve gone to all this trouble, but maybe his wife will not like a small town and they’ll go back to the city.”
“He isn’t married.”
“Well, unless he’s got an eye in the middle of his forehead and all his teeth are missing, every single woman in town will be after him.”
“We may be able to use him to make Johnny jealous.” Adelaide lifted her brows in question. “That boy needs someone to give him a swift kick. I’d ask Paul to do it, but he likes him too much.”
“Don’t even think about trying to get us back together, Addie. Johnny wouldn’t care if I paraded through downtown Rawlings as naked as a jaybird.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“We won’t argue that now or ever. Tell me about the new doctor,” Kathleen said quickly, hoping to change the subject. She didn’t want to hear about the woman Johnny was keeping company with.
“Claude said that this is his first civilian practice. He went into the army after medical school.”
“He should be pretty good at patching up gunshot wounds. The trouble is that there may not be many of those now that there isn’t a draft to dodge.”
“What brought that on?”
“I ran into Gabe Thomas today at the filling station, and he was bragging about not being drafted because he’d had four toes shot off squirrel hunting. He got under my skin. I don’t know why Eddie hired him.”
“It irked a lot of people, including me, that he was here during the war, bragging that he had been too smart to get caught in the draft.” Adelaide took the last drink from her glass and set it on the table. “I’ve got to get back to the paper. I’ll come by for you tomorrow.”
“You talked me into it. I’ll have on my best bib and tucker to meet the new doc, and I promise that I won’t pick my nose or tell him dirty jokes.”
“Oh …you— I’m glad to know that you still have your sense of humor.”
Kathleen watched her dearest friend drive away. Adelaide was fifty years old but didn’t look or act a year older than thirty-five. Love for her husband, Paul, was keeping her young. They adored each other as much today as they had when she first met them seven years ago.
Lucky, lucky Adelaide.
John J. Wrenn, president of Oklahoma State Bank of Rawlings tried to conceal his amazement as a cashier’s check was placed on his desk by the man who sat across from him.
“Deposit the check in the name of Hidendall, Incorporated. We wish to pay for the property outright. The balance is to be kept in a checking account.”
“Of course. The house has historic value. It was built by a cattle baron in 1912.”
“I’m not interested in the historic value, Mr. Wrenn. It suits my purpose. I insist on privacy.”
“The Clifton place is one of the largest holdings here. Only the BF Ranch is larger. We have been leasing the land to local ranchers for grazing.”
“Continue to do so. I’ll have a man down here in a few days to look over your books.”
“Folks will wonder—”
“You are to tell the curious that I’m a weather observer, which I am part of the time. My main occupation is that of writer. My books are published under a very well known pen name. I don’t want to be bothered by people knocking on my door seeking autographs. I hope you understand that my name is not to be mentioned to anyone at any time nor under any circumstance. Is that clear?”
“It is,” the banker hastened to say.
“How long before I can move in?”
“In just a few days. I’ll send a crew out tomorrow to clean the house. It’s been vacant since old Mrs. Clifton died last year. She left the house and the property to a nephew in New Jersey. He told us to sell it. The furnishings, as you could tell, are old, but good quality. We decided to sell them with the house rather than hold an auction.”
The man who stood looked more like a movie star than a writer. A few months short of his thirty-ninth birthday, he was average height, with ice-blue eyes and blond hair turning gray at the temples. He wore a dark shirt, a string tie, and a mohair jacket with dark brown oval patches on the elbows. There was an air of purpose to his movements that was particularly evident when he strode to the door of the bank president’s office and turned for a final word.
“I’ll be doing other business with this bank if my wishes for complete confidentiality are respected. I’ll return day after tomorrow and sign the final papers.”
“They’ll be ready.” The banker stood, but before he could get to his feet, the man calling himself Robert Brooks was out the door, so he sat back down.
Will wonders never cease to happen? He had unloaded that old Clifton estate, and he couldn’t even brag about it to anyone.
He had been surprised when the man phoned and inquired about the Clifton place. It had been on the market for a year and had been shown only one time. The man who called wanted to see the inside of it, as he had already inspected the grounds and the surrounding property. Wrenn had sent a junior clerk out with a key, and not two hours later he was looking at a cashier’s check for fifty thousand dollars.
John Wrenn pulled the telephone toward him and told the operator to get him the First National Bank in Oklahoma City. While he waited, he wondered how much longer it would be before Rawlings Telephone Company would install dial telephones.
“Hidendall, Inc., is as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar,” the officer of the bank in Oklahoma City assured him. “Theodore Nuding is the sole owner of the corporation. His check is good.”
“Mr. Nuding bought a property after seeing it only one time. Does he usually leave a balance of five thousand in a checking account?”
“Nuding is an unusual fellow. However, his needs seem to be few. He does not live high on the hog, even if he is able to.”
“He’s…well-off?”
“To put it mildly. If you want his business, I advise you to
follow his instructions to the letter. He’s got an uncanny business sense, and he’s a man who demands anonymity.”
“Thanks for telling me. If that’s what he wants, I can assure you that’s what he will get.”
“Ah…I thought you’d agree. He’s not hard to get along with unless you try to put something over on him. Then watch out. He can be vicious.”
John Wrenn hung up the telephone and leaned back in his chair. Damn. Theodore Nuding, alias Robert Brooks, was well-off. Did that mean he was comfortably rich or a millionaire? The banker regretted that he hadn’t added another five thousand to the estate and made himself a nice little profit.
The man who walked into the hotel down the street wore a well-worn suit coat and an old brown felt hat on a head of dark brown hair. He shuffled as he crossed the lobby to the desk. He removed his glasses and massaged thebridge of his nose.
“Any mail?” he asked the desk clerk in a meek voice.
“A couple of letters, Mr Brooks.”
“Thanks.” He put his glasses back on and glanced at the letters. Both were from business places back East. He put them in the pocket of his jacket and headed for the stairs.
In his room, Theodore Nuding took a bulky notebook from his inside coat pocket before he hung the coat on a hanger. He adapted easily to any environment. He liked the smallness of Rawlings, although he realized that it would be harder to blend in than it had been in the city. But he could do it. He knew how to make himself into a forgettable fellow or into a man long remembered.
He sat down at a table near the window, looked across at the courthouse, and then down on the street. He recognized the man who was getting out of a car in front of the bank, and reached for his ever-handy binoculars. He studied Johnny Henry as he stood beside the car talking to his father, Barker Fleming. He had made it his business to find out all he could about Kathleen’s husband and rather admired him for his attitude toward a father who had abandoned him. Johnny’s mother had been a whore and his sister was a slut who worked in a honky-tonk in Oklahoma City.
Nuding was a man with an extraordinary memory for detail and a knack for picking up information, especially anything pertaining to Kathleen Dolan Henry. His obsession with her was a fact that he readily admitted and reveled in.
Theodore Nuding’s own father had died when he was nine years old. It had been God’s gift to him and his mother. Thank God he’d had no brothers or sisters. He’d had his darling mother all to himself for almost thirty years.
He took out his fountain pen and began to write.
4:00 P.M. I’m so glad that I found her, Mother. Her hair is gloriously red like yours, but then you know that because you urged me to take the job in the aircraft plant so that I would meet her. I bought a house for her today. It’s a big old house, somewhat like the one you and I lived in when I was taking care of you. It will take a while to get it ready for her. Then I’ll look after her and keep her safe just as I did you. And after a while, like you, she will come to depend on me and will love me for my gentle care. So much to be done. I wish I didn’t have to waste time sleeping.
Chapter Five
Kathleen dreaded going to the reception for Dr. Perry. She didn’t fear that she would run into Johnny because she couldn’t think of a reason why he would be there. Her fear was that someone would mention him and the blond woman.
Night after sleepless night, she had pictured Johnny and another woman in the house that had been hers for almost three years and in the bed she had shared with him. Had he been writing to someone here in Rawlings while he was away? Was she from here or from out of town?
Get out of my mind, Johnny Henry, or I’m going to lose it.
Kathleen was ready when Adelaide came by. Forcing herself to show some enthusiasm for her friend’s sake, she hurried out to the car with a perky smile on her face.
“You look so pretty I’m surprised Paul will let you out the door without him.”
“He knows that no one but he would have me.” Adelaide moved her purse to make room on the seat for her friend. “Judy will be at the reception taking pictures. Paul thought that he’d better stick around the office in case the bank was robbed or the schoolhouse caught on fire.”
“Every newspaperman’s dream.”
“We’ll be a little early. I want to get things set up before the crowd arrives. It’s open house, thank goodness. Everyone won’t come at the same time.”
“Don’t count on it. Mrs. Smothers, our number one complainer about paper delivery, will come early and stay late.”
“And try to get free medical advice from the doctor,” Adelaide added.
“I’m not much in the mood for small talk. I’ll help you get set up, stay a polite length of time, and walk home. I need the exercise.”
“I can’t afford to stay the entire afternoon either. I’ve got plenty to do back at the paper,” Adelaide said as she parked behind a row of cars in front of the clinic. “We can carry in everything in one load if you help me.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Kathleen teased, “but I will.”
Claude had set up a table in the reception area of the clinic. It was covered with a lace tablecloth. In the center of the table was a large decorated sheet cake. WELCOME TO RAWLINGS, DR. PERRY was written in green icing. Around the edge of the cake were large red roses with green leaves.
“The cake is beautiful. Did Claude bake it?”
“One of the restaurants made it.” Adelaide unwrapped the silver service and set it up at the end of the table. “I’m glad for the chance to use Mother’s silver. Oh, hello, Dale. Are the coffee and tea ready?”
The woman who came down the hall and into the reception room was, as Adelaide would describe her, pleasingly plump. From the starched cap perched proudly on top of dark brown hair to her gleaming white oxfords, Dale Cole was the classic nurse and so efficient that most people didn’t realize that she was not an RN.
“The coffee is perking. We even chipped the ice for the tea.”
“Dale, meet Kathleen Henry.”
Dale’s smile was beautiful. “Hello. I’ve heard a lot about the young reporter who came to this town and broke the hold Doc Herman had on it.”
“For heaven’s sake! I didn’t do it all by myself.”
“She gave us the push that we needed to get rid of that tyrant.” Adelaide fanned the napkins out on the table.
“Have you met Dr. Perry?” Dale asked. “If I weren’t already married to the most wonderful man in Jhe world, I’d be after him like a shot.”
“That good, huh?” Adelaide winked at Kathleen.
“He’s just as sweet as he can be, a crackerjack, and a caring doctor to boot. Every single woman in town and some of the married ones are going to suddenly get a bellyache, a sore throat or palpitations.” Dale picked up a clipboard. “Nice to have met you, Kathleen.” She tilted her head toward the inner office, where the murmur of masculine voices could be heard. “You’re in for a treat,” she said brightly, and, scurried down the hall.
“She’s nice. How long has she—” Kathleen cut the words off in mid-sentence when the office door opened, and her eyes collided with Johnny’s. He came into the room followed by a man with a thin, pleasant face and curly blond hair. Kathleen’s eyes went from Johnny to the man, and down to the cake.
“Hello, Johnny, we didn’t know you were here.”
Thank goodness for Adelaide. Kathleen wouldn’t have been able to say fire if her clothes were ablaze.
“I came to see if my old friend had time to go squirrel hunting.” Johnny’s eyes were still on Kathleen. “Have you met Mrs. Leahy, Jude?”
“The publisher of the newspaper? We’ve not met, but Claude White spoke of you. He warned me not to get on your wrong side.” The doctor held out his hand.
“Did he tell you that I charge him too much for his ads and that he wants to pay me in hamburgers?”
“Now that you mention it, he did say that he’d trade me burgers for house calls.” The do
ctor’s voice was warm and friendly.
Kathleen was slightly breathless by the time his eyes left Adelaide and turned to her.
“Jude, this is my wife, Kathleen,” Johnny said without taking his eyes off her. “Kathleen, do you remember me telling you about my cousins, Jude Perry and his brother Pete?”
Kathleen’s eyes flicked to Johnny, then back to the smiling man who was holding out his hand. She put hers in it.
“You mean …from down on—”
“—Mud Creek,” the doctor said. “A lot of water has gone under the bridge since we were down on Mud Creek, huh, Johnny?” Smile lines fanned out from the corner of large brown eyes. “I knew that you were Kathleen as soon as I opened the door. Karen and Grant Gifford told me about Johnny’s pretty redheaded wife.” Jude Perry was still holding her hand. He turned and spoke to Johnny. “How did an ugly old cowboy like you manage to talk her into marrying you?”
Kathleen’s face flushed at the compliment. Her eyes shot to Johnny. He stood on spread legs, his arms were folded across his chest, his eyes daring her to explain their separation.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said with a raised brow and a quirk at the corner of his mouth.
You…you horse’s patoot! Why haven’t you told him that we’re separated? How will you explain the blonde you took to the ranch?
“How are the Giffords?” She had to say something.
“Fine. They are coming down in a few weeks. I was just telling Johnny that we’d have to get together and catch up on all that’s happened since we were last in Red Rock.” He released her hand and moved away. When he turned she noticed that he limped. “As much as I’d like to stay and visit, I’ve got two patients to see to before this shindig gets under way. See you in a day or two, Johnny?”
“I’ll give it a try, Jude. Thanks.”
“See you in a while, ladies,” Dr. Perry said, and limped down the hall.
Johnny waited until the sound of a door closing reached them before he spoke, his direct gaze on Kathleen.
After the Parade Page 6