After the Parade

by Dorothy Garlock

  “You’re a good organizer, Harry.”

  “Damn right. Don’t you do anything out there to embarrass me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Don’t be swishing your fat ass at anyone around there either. I heard that big-muscled goof-off that hangs around is the doctor’s brother. Stay away from him. He’s a womanizer. I can tell one a mile away.”

  “I don’t know him, Harry. I’ve only seen him a time or two at the clinic.”

  “He waved at you that day. I saw it with my own eyes. Jesus, Dale, you ought to know that he’s making up to you for a reason. He’s probably goin’ to hit me up for a job. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I give him one.”

  Harry had been seething since the brush off he’d been given when he asked for a tire pump. He’d had to go to the station on a tire that badly needed air. He was surprised the tube hadn’t been cut to ribbons by the time he got there.

  Eddie had looked at his ruined tire and said that he must have run over a really sharp object to put such a hole in the tire and tube. He’d told him that he could put a boot in the tire, and with a new tube he could use the tire for a spare.

  “By the way, Dale, clean the knees of the pants I wore today and press them. My coat needs a good brushing, too.” Harry yawned without covering his mouth. “I’m going to bed.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Curious eyes followed Henry Ann and Johnny to a table at the restaurant. In a town were everyone knew or had heard of everyone else, Henry Ann was someone new to wonder about. All that was known about her was that she had come in on the bus and had been met by Kathleen Henry. It was hot gossip in town that Kathleen had left Johnny and was living in town. Hell of a note, some said. A man goes to war, comes home, and his wife won’t live with him.

  If Johnny was aware of the curious glances following him and Henry Ann, he didn’t show it. After they were seated, Henry Ann looked around, then plucked the printed menu from between the salt and pepper shakers and the sugar bowl. She glanced at it and handed it to Johnny.

  “See anything you want?” he asked.

  “The special. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy.”

  “Sounds good to me, too.”

  “If Rawlings is anything like Red Rock, people are wondering who I am.”

  “Shall I get up and make an announcement?”

  “What would you say?”

  “I’d say, ’Folks, I would like to present Mrs. Tom Dolan from Red Rock. This lady, who is only five years older than I, took in a mean fourteen-year-old city kid and changed my life. If not for her, I would probably be serving time in McCalister Penitentiary. She’s my sister and my best friend. I think the world of her.’ That’s what I would say.”

  “Oh, Johnny. I may disgrace myself and cry.”

  “You will never disgrace yourself in my eyes, Hen Ann.”

  “I wish Aunt Dozie had lived to know that you came home from the war and that you turned out to be such a fine man.”

  “She probably knows I came home from the war.” His dark eyes, usually so somber, laughed at her.

  After the waitress took their order, Henry Ann said, “It’s strange, and I feel guilty, but it doesn’t seem like a member of the family died today.”

  “She was sicker than I thought when I took her out to the ranch. She complained about everything. I don’t know what I would have done with her if Pete hadn’t come when he did.”

  “You stood by her when she had no place else to go. You couldn’t have done more for her. She lived the kind of life she wanted to live,” Henry Ann said sadly.

  “After I bought the ranch, I saw her in Oklahoma City. I told her that if she wanted to, she could come stay with me. She laughed and said it would be a cold day in hell when she moved to the sticks. I never heard from her again until Sheriff Carroll called and said she had asked him to get in touch with me and tell me to meet the bus.”

  ’Tom and I will help with the burial expense.”

  “No need for you to do that. Pete gave the undertaker fifty dollars. I put in another fifty. That takes care of the burial, the plot, and a small stone.”

  “It wasn’t Pete’s obligation.”

  ’Tell that to Pete. He’s stubborn as a mule at times.”

  Henry Ann glanced at the diners in the booths that lined the sidewall. One man sat hunched over his meal. He looked up. His eyes slid over her and Johnny and then back to his plate. He had a chart of some kind lying on the table and he looked at it from time to time.

  ’Tom and the children are wondering when you’re coming to see us.”

  “I’d better wait until I can get some decent tires.”

  “You could take the bus. Come and bring Kathleen. Tom would like to see her, too.”

  “I don’t know about that, sis.”

  “Oh, dear. I told myself I’d not bring this up, but I’ve got to say it. I just hate it that you and Kathleen are not together.” Henry Ann’s expression was troubled.

  “It isn’t something you need to worry about.”

  “Why not? I love you both. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I’d rather not. Kathleen and I want different things out of life.”

  “What things?”

  “She wants children. I do not.”

  “Johnny Henry! You’d make a wonderful father. I remember how you were with Jay—”

  “Here’s our food.” Johnny smiled with relief.

  The waitress, thinking that the smile was for her, giggled happily. Johnny didn’t remember her, but she remembered him. All the high school girls back before the war had a crush on the Best All-Around Cowboy of Tilli-son County. Then he had to up and marry the redhead from the newspaper. It was rumored that they had separated.

  “If you need anything else, Johnny, just give me a whistle,” she said brightly.

  “I’ll do that, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, I’m sure.”

  “She was flirting with you,” Henry Ann said. “Doesn’t she know that you’re married?”

  “She’s just being friendly.”

  The food was delicious, and Henry Ann was hungrier than she thought. Hot beef sliced, heaped on bread, and covered with gravy was one of her favorites.

  “Pete has suggested, and I’m giving it some thought,” Johnny said halfway through the meal, “that he and I form a company and put on rodeos. I’m not sure how much money it would take to start. It’s just in the talking stage now.”

  “That’s a great idea.” She smiled into his eyes. “Pete is a talker. He could promote and you could manage behind the scenes.”

  Johnny looked at her with surprise. “It’s just what I thought. We’re both interested in raising rodeo horses.”

  “Do it, if you feel it’s right. Henry & Perry Rodeos. I like the sound of it. Rodeos are just bound to get more popular now that the war is over.”

  “Folks like to see someone thrown on his rear. I always got the biggest hand when I hit the dirt.” He grinned, remembering. “I doubt that I can get the money through the GI Bill to finance something like that.”

  “You could mortgage your ranch.”

  “I can’t do that. Part of it belongs to Kathleen.” He looked away, veiling his expression. “I wouldn’t ask her to take the risk.”

  It was completely dark when they left the restaurant and walked down the street to Johnny’s car.

  “Days are getting shorter,” Henry Ann remarked.

  “And cooler. On Guadalcanal I wished for a cool night like this.”

  When they reached the house, Johnny walked with Henry Ann to the porch. The lights were on in the front room and in Kathleen’s bedroom.

  “Are you coming in?”

  “No. I’d better get back. You’ll have a trying day tomorrow. I’ll be here to take you to the burial. Pete and Jude will be there. Good night, sis. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  Theodore Nuding rubbed his face with his h
ands and pressed his fingers to his temples. He had eaten his supper at the restaurant, a treat he allowed himself occasionally. Now he sat at the table in the room he was preparing for Kathleen. His notebook was spread out in front of him. His had been a busy day. He picked up his pen and began to write.

  9:30 P.M. Mother, I am tired tonight. I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve not felt the best lately. I’ve been working hard. So much to do and so little time. A lot happened today. My darling Kathleen went to see a lawyer. She looked so desolate, so lonely afterward, that I risked talking to her when she parked in front of the library and sat in her car. She is so beautiful. I wanted to stay and look at her, but I didn’t dare. She will be happy here in her room, where she will have everything she needs. I’m making out a list and over Thanksgiving, I’ll go to Dallas and place an order.

  Johnny Henry’s slutty sister died today. I knew that someone had died when the undertaker went to the clinic. Johnny Henry and the doctor’s brother went to the funeral parlor, then to the cemetery to pick out a plot. He was at the cafe tonight with a woman. She is the one who came in on the bus today from Red Rock. It must be his other sister.

  I’ve been having splitting headaches lately, Mother. At times they are so bad I can hardly see. I wish Kathleen was here. I would lay my head in her lap and she would rub the hurt away.

  Henry Ann, Johnny, Pete, and Jude were four of the eleven people who stood at Isabel’s gravesite that knew her. The others were Barker Fleming, his two daughters and son, Adelaide and Paul Leahy, and Kathleen.

  Lucas Fleming, in a dark suit, with his hat in his hand, fidgeted beside his father until Barker gave him a quelling glance. Marie and Janna, who towered over her older sister, both wore dark coats and hats.

  Early this morning Marie had come to the house with a baked ham, potato salad, and a couple of loaves of Mrs. Fisher’s freshly made bread. Kathleen had introduced her to Henry Ann.

  “I’m glad to know you, Mrs. Dolan,” Marie said.

  “And I’m glad to know you. It was nice of you to bring food.”

  “Daddy insisted we start preparing right away as soon as we heard that Johnny’s sister had died.”

  “I hope I get the chance to thank him.”

  “You will. All of us will be at the funeral.”

  Kathleen had avoided Johnny when he came to the house. She left it to Henry Ann to tell him about the food Barker had sent over. When she came out of the bedroom, wearing her dark coat and hat, Pete and Jude were there. And when they left the house, she had ridden in Pete’s car to the cemetery.

  Now it was over. The minister, whom the undertaker had engaged to read a simple service, had finished. The casket sat lonely beside the heap of red Oklahoma soil that would cover it. As the group began to move away, Kathleen invited Adelaide and Paul as well as Barker and Ms family to come to the house.

  “You furnished the food, Barker, and besides, you should get to know Henry Ann, Johnny’s sister.”

  “I would like that if it wouldn’t be an imposition.” Barker nudged his youngest daughter, who groaned at the thought of spending more time with the adults.

  “I’ll have Pete drop me off at the clinic.” Jude took Henry Ann’s hand in both of his. “Will I see you again before you go?”

  “I’m going back in the morning. This is the first time I’ve been away from Tom and the kids. I’m homesick for them.”

  “Lucky Tom and the kids. Take care of yourself. Tell Tom hello.”

  “Take care of yourself, too. Seeing you has renewed my faith in human nature. Find a nice girl and start a family. That’s where true happiness lies.”

  Jude kissed her on the cheek, lifted his hand to the others, and went to where Pete waited beside the car.

  “I’ll ride with Adelaide and Paul, Pete,” Kathleen called. “Come to the house after you deliver Jude.” Ignoring Johnny, she took Adelaide’s arm.

  At the house, Kathleen insisted that Henry Ann visit with Johnny, Barker, and the Leahys while she and Marie prepared the food. She sliced the ham, and Marie set out plates and silverware.

  “There’s a cake in the lower cupboard, Marie. I baked it last night.”

  “What can I do?” Janna asked.

  “Cut the cake,” Kathleen said.

  “Are you sure you want her to?” This came from a smiling Marie.

  “I can do it,” Janna insisted, and stuck her tongue out at her sister.

  “She’ll do just fine.”

  “Now here’s a roomful of pretty women.” Pete crowded into the small kitchen. “Better let me do that,” he said, taking the slicing knife from Kathleen’s hand.

  “Gladly. I’ll slice the bread.”

  “This knife is dull as dishwater, sugar. Don’t you have a whetstone?”

  “Sorry. You’ll just have to make do. Janna, let’s move the kitchen chairs to the other room. There isn’t room in here for everyone to sit down.”

  After the meal, the men went to the porch to smoke.

  “If you’re looking for land,” Barker said to Pete, “You may want to look at the Clifton ranch. I understand that it I sold recently, but the owner isn’t going to run cattle. It’s good pastureland.”

  “Any of it tillable?”

  “Might get a hay crop. It wasn’t tilled during the dust storms. It’s got good topsoil.”

  “The man who bought it is a famous writer, so John Wrenn said. It didn’t sound like he’d do much ranching himself. He will lease out grazing rights.” Paul and Pete had hit it off. Paul liked a gutsy man who had had a few hard knocks and survived them.

  “Is anyone living out there?” Pete asked.

  “The writer hasn’t moved in yet. A fellow from the weather bureau is staying out there looking after the place. Sheriff Carroll says he sits out west of town watching the clouds and making notes on a chart.”

  “Now that’s a job that would grow mold on the brain.” Pete’s laughter was sudden and spontaneous. Lucas joined in, causing Pete to look down at him sitting on the edge of the porch. “You a cowboy?”

  “Yeah.” Lucas glanced at his father, then said, “Yes, sir.”

  “You like rodeos?”

  “Yes …sir!“

  “I’m trying to get Johnny to go in with me and put on a rodeo in the spring.”

  Lucas’s eyes went to Johnny. “You goin’ to?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Could I have a job?”

  “If you can cut the mustard.”

  “Ya…hoo!” Lucas jumped to his feet, and threw his hat in the air. The Stetson came down in the yard, and he ran to get it.

  “We’ll need someone to pick up horse turds, won’t we, Pete?” Johnny teased, his dark eyes dancing with amusement.

  “I’ll do that, Johnny,” Lucas said quickly. “You’ll let me ride sometimes, won’t you? Wait till I tell Janna. She’s been practicing barrel racing. She’s not very good,” he scoffed.

  “She’ll get better.” With his booted foot on the edge of the porch, the other on the ground, Johnny spoke to Barker.

  “Sherm, the man living out at my place, found two of your steers in my back lot not fifty feet from the barn.”

  “How did they get there? Two steers don’t usually wander off by themselves. A dozen maybe, but not two.”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Sherm drove them down that dry gulley and back onto your land. One of them had an ear tag.”