He had gone to her house Sunday night while she was at the movies. It had been easy to come across the back field and let himself into the back door with a special key he had. For half an hour he had moved through her rooms, touching her things and wondering why he had not given himself this pleasure before.
She was neat. He knew she would be. Her clothes were aligned in the closet: dresses, skirts, blouses. He buried his face in them, breathing in the scent of her. Before he left, he treated himself to a handkerchief from the drawer of her dresser.
Nuding’s main purpose in going there had been to type a note on her typewriter saying that she was leaving. He didn’t want anyone looking for her right away and hoped to convince her friends that she was leaving Rawlings to start a new life. He seriously considered burning down the house, but he didn’t want to leave Kathleen, once he had her, to come back and do it.
The next day he had gone to Frederick to buy Christmas bells for her room and paper to wrap the gifts he had for her. Now all he had to do was wait until Sunday.
10:20 P.M. Mother, I worked day and night to get the room ready for Christmas. It’s in shades of green, her favorite color. What isn’t green is ivory. It is somewhat like your room, Mother, except your room was in two shades of blue. After she has been here a while and has become content, she will let me know if she wants a different color. I wish I was ’t so tired. By Sunday I will feel better because then Kathleen and I will be together forever.
Nuding closed the journal, took the handkerchief from his pocket, and held it to his face. This time next week he would be sitting here with his darling Kathleen, his princess, his angel. She would be his, all his.
Christmas had come to Rawlings and with it cold weather. The temperature went down to freezing. Kathleen put a sweater on under her coat, a scarf on her head, and walked to town. She remembered that her landlady’s daughter had been told to walk some every day while she was pregnant.
The downtown was decorated with ribbons, lights, and artificial swags of greens. Kathleen prowled the stores, bought a scarf for Mrs. Ramsey and perfume for Emily, aftershave lotion for Pete and Jude and Paul. A week ago she had bought gifts for the Flemings. They were wrapped and ready to take when she went there on Christmas Day.
At the ten-cent store she bought a small toy for Theresa’s son, Ryan, and one for Danny Cole. Then, remembering that she had nothing for Theresa and Dale, she went to the drugstore and chose a fancy box of bath powder for each of them. She walked along the street looking in the stores’ gaily decorated windows. When she reached the men’s store, she stopped. She had gifts now for everyone except Johnny.
Leroy Grandon had owned the store when she first came to Rawlings. He had wanted to date her, but she’d had eyes only for Johnny Henry. During the war Leroy had sold the store, married a war widow, and moved to Ardmore. The store was more up-to-date now.
An attractive display in the window caught her eye. A light blue cowboy shirt with dark blue piping and buttons was draped over a brown-leather saddle. A wide leather belt lay coiled beside it. The enterprising merchant was playing Christmas music. The song grabbed at her emotions and made her want to cry. I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams—
On an impulse, Kathleen went in, bought the shirt and the belt and asked for them to be gift-wrapped.
Leaving the store, she continued on down the street. At the corner a gust of wind hit her. It was so cold that it almost took her breath away. She turned her back to it and didn’t see Johnny coming toward her. Holding her scarf under her chin to keep it from blowing off, her shopping bag in her other hand, she started across the street. When she stepped up onto the curb, he was there in his old sheepskin coat, his hat pulled low on his forehead and the leather straps of a horse halter looped over his shoulder.
“Don’t you look before you cross the street?”
“Hello, Johnny. I looked.” Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. Her breath came out in small white puffs.
“Where’s your car?” Dear Lord! He had dreamed about Christmas at home with her.
“At home. I walked.”
“Won’t it run?” He was home now, and it was Christmas, but they were miles apart.
“It did yesterday. I walked because I wanted to. How have you been?”
“Fine. Working.”
“Pete said you got your horses up from Keith’s. How’s Ruth?”
“All right. They miss Granny. She died a year ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Ruth asked about you and said to tell you to come down.”
“There’s not much of a chance of that. I’m pretty busy.”
“I’m pretty busy myself. I came in to the leather shop to get this halter sewed. If you’ve finished your shopping, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I’m not through, but thank you anyway.”
“I can wait. I’ll get a haircut.”
“Thanks, but I’ll walk.” I need the exercise because I’m carrying MY child, you uncaring dolt!
“Suit yourself.”
Feeling as if he had been slapped in the face with a wet towel, Johnny walked on down the street. She had changed. She had looked him steadily in the eye and declined his offer of a ride. She had passed the time of day with him as if he were a neighbor she met on a street corner instead of a man with whom she had lived, loved, and had a baby. At one time they had been so close that each had known what the other was thinking.
Was she seeing someone else? The lawyer’s son, Junior Fairbanks? Had she fallen in love with Jude? The idea of the job in Central America was becoming more tempting all the time.
Johnny was so absorbed in his thoughts that he forgot to stop in at the barbershop and went on down to where he had left his car. Just as he was getting in, Barker stopped across the street and called out to him.
“Hold on a minute, Johnny.” After he parked, his father came across the street. Johnny threw the halter in the back of his car and waited. “It’s cold. We might get a norther out of this. You got plenty of hay?”
“Yeah. I got a load from McCabe. What’s on your mind?”
“Quite a bit. Let’s get in the car out of the wind. I’m getting so damned old my bones creak.”
Johnny almost smiled. “Guess I’ve got eighteen years before I get old and my bones creak.” He went around and got under the wheel. Barker slid into the seat beside him.
“I heard what happened between you and Mack Boone. Not from Mack, but from another one of my men who was there.”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“Thanks. What he said about Marie wasn’t true. She and Bobby Harper have something going. I don’t know how serious it is yet.”
“Bobby’s a good man. I’ve not heard anything about him that would change my mind.”
“I’ve no objections to Bobby. Mack turned his attention to Janna. It was a mistake. Janna is not Marie.”
“She’s half his age for chrissake!”
“He put his hand on her, and she hit him across the face with a rope.” Barker’s face, usually stoic as the head on the nickel, creased in a smile.
“Good for Janna.”
“He won’t force himself on her. He knows that if I didn’t kill him, you would.”
Johnny sat quietly and watched Kathleen going into the Gazette building.
“I warned him.”
“I had a talk with Victor and told him I had to let Mack go. He understood. Mack had a few words to say about you before he left. He’s out for trouble. Be on the lookout for him.”
“He’s a two-bit crook. He drove your cattle onto my land, planning to call the sheriff and say that I’d stolen them. If he’d been smart, he’d have put them in the barn.”
“He can’t take credit for having many brains, that’s sure.” Barker opened the car door and stepped out. “By the way, we’d like for you to come out for Christmas. Kathleen will be there.”
Johnny chewed the side of his jaw, then said
, “Okay.”
“See you then.” Barker shut the door and backed away, not wanting to press his luck by saying more. By the time he reached his car and started the motor, Johnny was headed out of town.
From the window of the Gazette office, Kathleen saw him drive past. She placed her shopping bag on the floor beside the coat rack and pulled the scarf from her head.
“You’ve had your hair cut,” Adelaide said, coming in from the back room. “I like it.”
“And hello to you too.”
“Your cheeks are rosy and your nose is red, Santa Claus.”
“Ho, ho, ho. Have you been a good little girl?”
“Have you?” Paul leaned in the doorway. “We’ve not seen much of you lately.”
“I’m working on my book. I promised to have it finished by April.”
“Do you need any help researching the kissing scenes?”
“With you? Your wife would cut my throat.”
“It might be worth it.” Paul leered and twisted the end of an imaginary mustache.
“All right, Tyrone, just simmer down.” Adelaide gazed with mock anger at her husband.
“Tyrone Power?” Dramatically, Kathleen placed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Tyrone Power, right here in Rawlings.”
“Well for crying out loud,” Adelaide exclaimed. “You’re sure in a feisty mood.”
“It’s Christmas, Addie.” Kathleen sat down in the swivel chair. “Anything earthshaking to write about?”
“Paul’s working on a couple of stories that came in on the radio. General George Patton died from the injuries he received in that car accident in Germany a few weeks ago. And Cordell Hull won the Nobel Peace Prize.”
“It’s a shame that a man like General Patton, who goes all through the war, is killed in an accident when it’s over.”
“What are you doing Christmas? Judy and Sheriff Carroll are coming over. Want to come?”
“I would, but Barker asked me to come for dinner.”
“Will Johnny be there?”
“I doubt it. More than likely he’ll go to the McCabes’.”
“Have you seen much of him?”
“Not since his sister’s funeral.” She didn’t think it necessary to mention that she had seen him just now on the street corner.
“Have you given up on him?”
“Yes.” The answer was quick and blunt.
“Well, I guess that takes care of that.”
Kathleen slipped into her coat. “I better get along. I want to stop at the library, and I fear that it’s getting colder by the minute.”
“Paul and I will come by Christmas night if you’re going to be home.”
“I’ll be there.”
The wind was so cold that Kathleen decided against walking the extra blocks to the library. By the time she reached home she was out of breath. Leaving .her packages and her coat on the couch, she went to the kitchen and lit a fire under the kettle to heat water for tea.
She felt good about her encounter with Johnny. She was pleased that seeing him didn’t hurt quite so much. It’s because of you, baby. I know now that I’ll always have a part of him with me.
The following day was Saturday. Pete stopped by.
“Hello, sugar. Is the coffeepot on?”
“I can put it on in a hurry. Leave your coat there on the couch and come to the kitchen. What’s in the sack?”
“Donuts. Fresh. With sugar on ’em.”
“Well, now, you’re the kind of company I Like to have.”
“I need your expert advice.”
“Bribing me with the donuts?”
“Yeah. Pretty smart, huh?”
“I’m glad you came by. I have a sack of presents for you to deliver.”
Pete took a package from the pocket of his coat and carefully unwrapped it. He lifted the lid on a pink box. Inside was a gold-colored oval vanity that held face powder and a bottle of Coty perfume.
“It’s beautiful,” Kathleen exclaimed.
“Do you think Dale will like it?”
“Of course, she’ll like it. Any woman would.”
“I want to give her something that a woman would like, but wouldn’t buy for herself. I don’t think she’s had many things like this.”
“That’s sweet, Pete.”
“I wondered if I could get you to wrap it kinda fancy.”
“Of course. I have some pretty Christmas paper and green ribbon.”
“I bought some toys for Danny. Dale says he still believes in Santa Claus, so we’ll have Santa leave them.”
“You’re happy, aren’t you, Pete?”
“Does it show that much?” He grinned nervously. “I’ve not had anyone to do things for for so long that I forgot what Christmas was about. It makes all the difference when you have someone you care about.”
“Yes, it does.”
“You’re a great gal, Kath. I hate seeing that sad look in your eyes.”
“I’m not sad! I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I’ve become reconciled to the fast that Johnny doesn’t want me. I’ve decided to go on and make the best life that I can for me and … for me.”
“Are you staying here in Rawlings?”
“No. I can’t stay here. After the first of the year, I’ll decide where I’m going. My book is due in April. I’d like to get settled somewhere by the end of January.”
“That’s just a month away. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I would hate leaving my furniture. I may call on you to help me with that. Barker is such a good friend. He’ll help me find a place.” Using both hands she gestured widely. “One thing about my kind of work. I can do it anywhere.”
Pete watched the expressions flicker across her face. He could have fallen in love with her if he hadn’t met Dale. Dammit. Johnny could have the world right here in his hand and he was letting it slip away.
Chapter Twenty-five
By Sunday, the wind had gone down, but it was still cold. Kathleen had planned to go to church services, but her morning sickness had lasted a little longer than usual. She sat in her big chair, nibbled on toast, and listened to the radio.
In the middle of the afternoon, while she was making Christmas cookies to take to the Fleming’s, Marie called.
“Are you going to the Christmas Eve service at the church tomorrow night? If you are, I’ll stop by and pick you up.”
“I’m not sure, but if I decide to go, I’ll meet you there.”
“We’re looking forward to having you here Christmas.”
“I’m looking forward to it, too. I’m making cookies to bring. See you then if not before.”
Kathleen was not sure that her cookies would compare with Mrs. Fisher’s, but she enjoyed cutting out the bells and the stars and sprinkling them with colored sugar. After they baked she placed them on a cloth on the counter. By the time she returned from the movie, they would be cool enough to pack in a tight tin.
She arrived at the theater only minutes before the movie, Going My Way with Bing Crosby, started. She liked Bing Crosby in anything and had been looking forward to this movie. She settled down happily in the middle of the theater to watch.
When the show was over Kathleen stopped in the lobby to wish Mrs. Lansing, who had been selling tickets at the theater for years, a merry Christmas. Then humming “White Christmas,” she drove home and parked the Nash in the driveway.
Kathleen unlocked the door, pushed it open, reached and flipped the light switch. Nothing. The room remained in total darkness. The bulb had burned out. She closed the door and groped her way toward the bedroom and the switch just inside the doorway.
When a hand was pressed to the back of her head and a cloth to her nose, she hardly had time to struggle before she went limp, and a blanket of darkness settled over her mind.
“Good morning.”
Kathleen’s eyes were open, but her mind was fuzzy. She squinted against the bright sunlight that blazed through a high window.
&nbs
p; “Are you hungry?”
Hungry? The thought of food was revolting. Her stomach lurched. She gagged. Her hand found something soft and held it to her mouth. She tried to lift her head and focus her eyes. Her vision cleared enough to make out a man sitting beside the bed.
“I’m…going to…puke—” she gasped.
“Oh, my goodness.”
He moved quickly and placed a bowl on the bed beside her face. She bent over it, gagged and gagged, but very little came up.
“I’m sorry you’re sick. I gave you a very small amount of chloroform. Just enough to get you here.”
“You gave me …chlor—” She gagged again.
“What do you need?”
“Cracker. Piece of…bread.”
The man left her sight. Kathleen’s head fell back against the pillow. Her mind was clearing enough for her to know that she had to get food into her stomach. She felt something pressed into her hand and lifted her lids enough to see that it was a soda cracker. She chewed it and swallowed, then waited a minute before she attempted to open her eyes again.
When her stomach had settled enough so that she could think, she realized that she was in a strange, very comfortable bed and a man had held a basin for her to throw up. He had also brought her a couple of crackers and placed a wet cloth on her forehead. Carefully she opened her eyes. He was sitting there looking at her. His shirt was white, his tie dark. His face was a blur.
Alarmed, she lifted her head, made an effort to focus, and looked around. What place is this? What am I doing here?
“Where am I?” she demanded. “Did you say something about chloroform?” She tried to sit up. He gently pushed her down.
“You’re not strong enough to get up.”
She looked wildly about, then beneath the covers. She was wearing something made of heavy cream satin.
“Where are my clothes?” Panic made her voice shrill. “Who took off my clothes?”
“You’ll not need those old things anymore. You’ve a wardrobe of new things. The very best.”
After the Parade Page 28