“Yeah. Quarter horses mostly. I had a Tennessee Walker once and got kind of interested in show horses. But, I don’t know enough about training and couldn’t afford to hire a trainer.”
“I remember that little pinto you had. You practically slept with that horse.”
“Ed Henry gave him to me when I was fourteen. I brought him over here when I bought the place. He was getting pretty old, so I put him out to pasture. He was struck by lightning the summer before I went into the service. It was like losing a member of the family.”
“Pete,” Isabel said, breaking into the conversation.
Pete ignored her for a minute, then looked her way. “If you’re going to continue to run down Jude, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m not going to say anything …about the wonderful doctor” Isabel paused. “What I’m saying is, I’ll go.”
“You’ll go? Where?” Pete acted disinterested. He passed behind Johnny and nudged him in the back with his elbow.
“I’ll go to the damn clinic if…you’ll take me honky-tonkin’.” Isabel’s face was white and her eyes feverish.
“Let’s get this straight. We’ll go to the clinic, and if Jude says you’re able, we’ll go honky-tonkin’.”
“He’ll not want me to go just for…spite.” Isabel’s voice was shrill.
“If that’s going to be your attitude, it may be best if you don’t go see him. You’ll not do what he tells you.” Pete turned to Johnny. “When are we going to get your horses?”
“How does day after tomorrow suit you?”
“I said I’d go see the damn doctor and I’ll…and I’ll do what he says,” Isabel added irritably.
“All right. I’ll take you this afternoon. Want me to slice the bread, Johnny?”
Chapter Eight
“You’ll never know just how much I love you.
You’ll never know just how much I care…”
Kathleen switched off the radio. That song always left her weepy, and she was trying desperately to keep her emotions under control. It was stupid, she told herself, to pine for a man who didn’t want you.
After leaving the bank, she had stopped at the grocery store and bought a jar of peanut butter and two packages of strawberry Jell-O. Jell-O, one of her favorite foods, had rarely been seen in the stores during the war. After making up one of the packages and leaving it to cool before putting the bowl in her icebox, she treated herself to two slices of bread and peanut butter before she settled down to work on her book.
Her fingers worked the typewriter keys rapidly, but her thoughts raced ahead of them. By the middle of the afternoon she had written six pages. She rolled her seventh sheet into the machine.
Beulah heard the clink of shod hooves on pebbly ground and, almost immediately, the thud of booted feet. A shadow fell in front of her, a shadow with wide shoulders and large cowboy hat.
“Having trouble?” asked a deep voice she recognized as belonging to a man she knew and feared.
Kathleen paused, read what she had written, and realized it wasn’t heading in the direction she wanted her story to go. She pulled the sheet of paper from the typewriter, turned it over, and rolled it back in. For five long minutes she sat staring at the blank page, trying to bring forth a mental vision of the scene.
After a while, she came to the conclusion that her creative juices had dried up for the moment. She would wash her hair and think about the scene while she was doing it. Fifteen minutes later she squeezed the excess water from her hair and wrapped a towel around her head. Carrying in her hand the bottle of vinegar she’d used as a rinse, she left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen.
“Ohhhh—” The word was scared out of her. A man holding a tire pump was standing in the middle of her living room. “What…are you doing in my house?”
“I knocked.” Gabe Thomas, the mechanic from Eddie’s service station, grinned at her.
“Get out!“
“I knew you were here.” He was wearing the same old greasy clothes he’d worn the day she went to the station and the same battered felt hat.
“Get out of my house.”
“Ah…don’t be that way, Kathy. I’ve had my eye on ya for a long time. Since we danced ’fore the war. Ya ain’t got no man now ’n yo’re the kind a woman who needs one. Ya and me’d match up pretty good.” He lifted his eyebrows and touched his crotch. “If ya know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean, you uncouth piece of horse hockey! I’d rather match up with a warthog. Now…leave.”
“Ya don’t mean that. Ya need a man, Kath…”
“What I need or don’t need is no concern of yours. Get out of my house!“
“I told ya I was willin’ to give ya a hand. Yore tire’s goin’ down again. I’ll pump it up…or pump you, if ya ask me right nice.” He took a step toward her.
“Leave now, or I’ll call the sheriff.” She gripped the neck of the vinegar bottle, determined to hit him with it if he came a step closer.
“Ya ain’t gonna call no sheriff. Yo’re just actin’ hard to get.” He stepped sideways, blocking her path to the phone, and she drew her arm back.
“Get out or I’ll scream my head off after I bash you over the head with this bottle.”
“Sh…it! You’ll not hit me with that, and ya ain’t gonna to yell neither. Who’d hear ya? Ya’d like to have somethin’ big—”
A loud knock sounded on the door, then another. Kathleen darted past him and threw open the door before the slow-thinking man could prevent her. A stranger in a brown felt hat and an old worn coat stood there.
“Ma’am, do ya know if some folks named Woodbury live ’round here?” His Southern accent was heavy.
“I believe so. I’ll have to think a minute. This man was just leaving.” She opened the door wider and jerked her head toward the man still standing in the middle of her living room. “You are leaving!”
“I ain’t through here yet.”
“Yes, you are. Good-bye.”
“Ain’t nobody by that name in Rawlings,” Gabe said irritably.
“Leave,” Kathleen said through clenched teeth, and opened the screen door. When he hestitated, she said angrily, “Leave now!” With a deep scowl on his face, he went through the door, shouldering the other man out of the way.
“I’ll be back…to fix your tire.”
“No! Don’t come back here. Ever!“
“Was he givin’ ya trouble, ma’am?” the man asked, after Gabe got into his car.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. I don’t know of anyone around here by the name of Woodbury. I was just stalling so that awful man would leave. He came here with the excuse of pumping air in my tire.”
“I have a tire pump in my car. I’d be glad to pump up your tire. I noticed it was goin’ flat.”
“That’s nice of you, Mr.—”
“Brooks Robert Brooks.”
“You look vaguely familiar, Mr. Brooks. Have I met you before?” She wrapped the towel more snugly around her wet head.
“I doubt that, ma’am. I’ve not been in town long. But maybe you saw me at the bank or in one of the eating establishments. I’m staying at the hotel for a while.”
“At the bank. I saw you this morning at the bank. I hope you find the people you’re looking for.”
“It was a long shot, thinkin’ they were here.”
“Well…good-bye.” Katheen stepped back to close the door, his voice stopped her.
“Ma’am, you should keep your door locked. I don’t like the looks of that fellow.”
“You’re right, and I will. Thank you.”
After Kathleen closed the door, a niggling memory caused her to go to the window to get another look at the man. Something about him struck a chord. She watched him go to a mud-splattered car and take out a tire pump. Then for a while he was out of sight behind her car as he pumped air into her tire. She was still at the window when he returned to his car and drove away.
Surprised that she still had t
he vinegar bottle in her hand, she walked into the kitchen. Just as she was about to set it down, another knock sounded on the door.
“Lord, have mercy!” Thinking Gabe Thomas had returned, she angrily flung the door open. “What now?”
“Does that mean you’re glad to see me or not glad to see me?”
“Johnny!” Joy and relief made her gasp his name. “I’m glad to see you. Come in.”
“For a minute I thought you were going to hit me with that bottle,” he said after he’d stepped inside.
“I would have if you’d been that, that…disgusting horse’s patoot that was here earlier.”
“Who’s that?” Johnny’s brows beetled in a frown.
“Gabe Thomas. He works for Eddie.”
“I know who he is. What was he doing here?”
“He said he came to fix my tire. I don’t know why a nice guy like Eddie hires scum like him.”
“What’d he do?” Johnny asked quietly. If Kathleen hadn’t been so giddy at the sight of him, she would have recognized the sign of smoldering anger.
“I was washing my hair and didn’t hear him knock. I came out of the bathroom, and he was standing here in the living room. I asked him to leave. He wouldn’t until a man came to the door asking directions.”
“Are you saying that he came in uninvited and refused to leave?”
“He thought we’d match up, as he put it. He made a few off-color remarks. Nothing worse than some things I’d heard while working in the city.”
“The son … of … a … bitch! Did he put his hands on you?”
“If he dared, he’d have had this bottle upside the head.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Someone should tell Eddie what kind of man he has working there.”
“He’ll not bother you again.” Johnny followed her to the kitchen. He reached over and took the vinegar bottle from her hand and set it on the table. “You’ve got water running down the back of your dress.” He tossed his hat on a chair, gently pushed her down in another, then unwound the towel from around her head.
“He said he knocked. If he did, I didn’t hear him because I was washing my hair.” Kathleen’s voice was strained, and she wondered why she had stated the obvious. She was breathless from the rapid beating of her heart.
“I just came over to thankyou for signing for the loan.” Johnny said as he rubbed her hair with the dry end of the towel. She closed her eyes and reveled in the wonderful feeling of his hands on her. When she opened them and glanced up, she was surprised to see his reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall beside the door. His eyes were closed or very near it. Was he remembering the times he had dried her hair while she sat beside the wood cookstove in the ranch kitchen? Sit here close to the oven door. I don’t want you catching a cold.
“Your hair isn’t as long as it used to be,” he said quietly.
“It’s easier to take care of … this way.”
“It’s curlier.”
“I’m getting too old to let my hair hang down my back.”
“Too old? Where did you pick up a dumb idea like that? I like the short curls, but I liked it long, too.”
“I’m seven years older than I was … back then,” she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed the squeak in her voice.
“But just as pretty. I’ll never forget you standing in the road the day the hijackers stopped you. You looked like a beacon with the sun shining on this bright red hair.” The dark eyes that fastened on the top of her head held a familiar hint of sadness.
“You rescued me.”
“Yeah. You’ve got this hair to thank for me even seeing you.”
“You’re kidding!” Kathleen glanced up at him. “You’d not have ridden to my rescue if I’d a been a blonde?”
“I’d have gotten around to it after a while,” he teased as he hung the towel on the back of the chair and forked his fingers through the short tight curls. “You’ll be dry soon, but don’t go outside. The wind is pretty cool.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and saluted.
“You’d better get that bowl of Jell-O in the icebox if you want it to set up.”
“Right away, sir!“
“Smart aleck.” He grinned, and her heart thumped wildly. “How’s the book coming?”
“Pretty good. I wrote six pages today, then suddenly the ideas stopped coming.”
“Does that happen often?”
“It depends on how far I am into the book.”
“I suppose I’ll have to buy a copy when it comes out.”
“If you do,” she laughed nervously, “it might be one of the three copies sold in Tillison County: to you, Adelaide, and Barker.”
“I suppose Barker comes by now and then,” he said, making her wish she hadn’t mentioned his father.
“Not a lot. I see more of Marie. Barker comes by and lights my water tank. The pilot goes out at the drop of a hat, and I haven’t got the hang of how to light it.”
“I’ll take a look at it sometime. I tinkered around a bit with that sort of thing while I was in the service.”
“Would you? It’s handy having hot water when you want it. How about an egg sandwich? My landlady taught me how to make a good one. I’m not sure why, but she called it a Denver.”
“I was going to invite you out to eat and meet a cousin of mine. Pete Perry is in town. He’s Jude’s brother.”
“Adelaide told me about him this morning. She and Paul met him and Dr. Perry at Claude’s.” She sat down after Johnny straddled a chair and folded his arms on the back.
“Pete took Isabel over to the clinic. He had to promise to take her to a honky-tonk if Jude said she was able to go. There isn’t much chance of that. She’s in bad shape.”
“Do you have any idea what’s the matter with her?”
“I’ve got an idea. Every man in the service was lectured on venereal disease.”
“Oh, no!“
“I’m boiling everything she’s used in the big iron pot.”
“Johnny, I’m sorry.” Kathleen placed her hand on top of his. He turned his hand over and gripped hers tightly.
“I feel guilty because I don’t want her in my house. I have no feeling for her. I’m sorry for her as if she were someone I didn’t know, but that’s all.”
“That’s understandable. You don’t really know her.”
“I knew her when she was very young, and then for a few months when she was fourteen. I didn’t like her even then.” Johnny looked down at Kathleen’s hand clasped in his. “I don’t know what will become of her. I can’t keep her at the house much longer. She pays no attention to anything I tell her. Pete can handle her better than I can.”
“He’s her cousin, too, isn’t he?”
Johnny snorted. “Yeah, but he’s a man first, and that’s all she’s interested in.”
“Do you think Dr. Perry can help her?”
“I don’t know. They do great things now days with penicillin.” Johnny looked at his watch. “I’m to meet Pete at the clinic in a little while. Would you like to come along?” His voice had a velvet huskiness to it.
“If you want me to.” The normal rhythm of her breathing and heartbeat had flown, and she feared she would not be able to regain them before she made a complete fool of herself.
“I do. I’d like for you to meet Pete. He’s very different from Jude.” What I really want is for Pete to see my beautiful wife. The thought raced joyously through his mind.
“I’ll change my dress.” She raked her fingers through her hair next to her scalp. “I think my hair is dry enough.”
Johnny reached over and ran his hand across the top of her head, fluffing her hair with his fingers.
“You can put a scarf over it until we get to the clinic.”
With a fluttering in the pit of her stomach and every cell in her body surging to life, she hurried to the bedroom. There was a chance that he loved her still.
Theodore Nuding kept his face expressionle
ss, hiding the emotions that engulfed him until he had stepped off the porch. A messy mixture of feelings swirled through him: elation at being so close to her and talking to her, and cold hatred for the man who had invaded her privacy and caused her discomfort.
He lifted a hand and slapped himself on the cheek. Damn! He should have done something about the man days ago. He had been busy with the house and establishing the image of himself he meant the town to accept.
Thank goodness he had been watching when that disgusting son of a bitch stopped at Kathleen’s house. If that mongrel had as much as put a hand on her, he would have killed him then and there. It would still have to happen, but now he had time to decide where and when.
Kathleen was watching when he returned with the tire pump. This was the first of many services he would perform for her. As he attached the rubber tube to the valve on the tire, he felt a warm glow of unqualified delight. He wished that he could stay all day and pump tires for her, but all too soon he was finished and feared he would blow the tire if he continued. He glanced to where she stood in the window and wanted to wave to her, but he didn’t want her to know that he knew she was watching.
He drove out of town and parked the car on a rise where he could view Kathleen’s house with his binoculars. His response was prepared should anyone be curious about what he was doing there for hours at a time.
The story had been tested two days ago when Sheriff Carroll came by and asked what he was doing. He had explained that he was studying cloud formations for the United States Weather Department because of the number of tornadoes in this part of the country. He had shown the sheriff the notes he’d written and the chart he was keeping. He threw out a few words like vertical updraft and cumulonimbus.
The lawman had bought the story. Robert Brooks was free to sit here on this rise all day if he wanted to.
When he swept the area with his binoculars, he was surprised to see that another car had stopped at Kathleen’s house. The husband’s car. He wasn’t pleased that Johnny Henry was there, but he knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. He hoped that she’d not go back to him, but if she did, it would be only a mild stumbling block in his plan for her. Nuding took his journal from under the seat. He’d filled one notebook and had started on another.
After the Parade Page 10