Ribbon in the Sky

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Ribbon in the Sky Page 22

by Dorothy Garlock


  Mike chuckled. “I can see you two get along like a cat and a dog.”

  * * *

  The mare trotted down the dusty road. The newly greased buggy wheels scarcely making a sound. Letty’s hat sat on the seat beside her. The sunny breeze played across her face, moving the hair at her temples, fluttering the collar of her shirtwaist. The air was fresh and scented with blossoms of flowering trees and shrubs. It was a glorious summer day; the world was beautiful.

  Letty had had a brief moment alone with Mike before he helped her into the buggy.

  “I don’t like for you to go into town alone,” he had said. “Why don’t you stop by and take one of the Watkins girls with you?”

  “I’ve been going to town alone for years. The girls will want to shop and talk and make a day of it. I want to get there, talk to Wallace Hakes, and get back.”

  “Will you be back by noon?”

  “It will probably be shortly after. I must go before Patrick and Helen wake up. I don’t dare take Patrick. He might spill the beans about Helen not having the mumps.”

  “Be careful of that Phillips. Don’t let him catch you alone.”

  “I can handle Oscar.”

  “—And the deputy. I’ve got a score to settle with him.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be all right.”

  “I’ll worry. I don’t want you out of my sight!” He groaned. “Now kiss me. It’ll have to last a while.” His mouth moved over hers with warm urgency, kissing her until she was breathless. When he lifted his head, his eyes were dark pools of pure happiness. He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “If I can meet you tonight, I’ll tie a ribbon to the lilac bush.”

  “You remember!” She pressed her palms to his cheeks, her fingers tugged at his ears.

  “You’d be surprised at what I remember.” The intimate tone of his voice brought a blush to her cheeks.

  Now, in the buggy on her way to town, Letty thought about the look in Mike’s eyes and the gentle way his lips had brushed hers. She waved a big horsefly away from her face and slapped the reins against the mare’s back. Even now, thinking about the intimacy she had shared with Mike, she felt warm and tingling.

  Letty drove down the main street of Piedmont. It was rutted, and an attempt had been made to smooth it with a drag; but the dust boiled up around the mare’s legs. Several automobiles were parked in front of the bank and two more in front of the hotel. A large number of people were on the boardwalk and standing in groups on the street corners. Letty wondered what had brought so many of them to town in the middle of the week. She waved to those she knew and continued on to the doctor’s office.

  Wallace Hakes looked up from the papers on his desk when she opened the door.

  “Letty.” He stood. “What brings you to town in the middle of the week? Is Jacob all right?”

  “Grandpa’s fine. I need to talk to you about Helen. Her father is out of jail. He came out to get her. I told him she had the mumps.”

  “Does she have the mumps?”

  “No.”

  “Come sit down and tell me whatever made you tell him that.”

  Letty sat across the desk from Wallace Hakes and told him how Helen had progressed from the silent, withdrawn little girl to the one who now joined in the conversation at the dinner table and who was learning to play the piano She told him how frightened the child was of her father and how she had panicked when he drove into the yard.

  “The only thing I could think of to keep him from taking her was to tell him she was sick. I promised her that she’d not have to go back to him. She has an unnatural fear of him, Wallace. Mike and I talked about it and he suggested that . . . maybe her father was . . . molesting her.”

  “Who is Mike?” Wallace asked quietly and watched color tinge her cheeks.

  “He’s working for Grandpa. But that’s another story.”

  “You trust this fellow?”

  “Oh, absolutely! Wallace, don’t make me tell you about that now. I’m so worried that Cecil Weaver will come and force Helen to go with him. Mike says that you can tell if he’s been . . . ah . . . you know . . . by examining Helen.”

  “It’s possible that I could, but think of the traumatic experience it would be for the child. I’d consent to do that only as a last resort.”

  “He’s a mean man. He put on a nice face at first, then he turned nasty and accused me of keeping Helen for the five dollars a month the county pays for her keep and for the work the child does. He said Helen owed him! Can you believe that? Wallace, if I adopted Helen the county would no longer have to pay for her keep.”

  “There’s not much chance of that, Letty.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re single and not blood kin.”

  “I’ll . . . be getting married.”

  “Oh.” He stared at her quietly for a long moment, then removed his eyeglasses and wiped them carefully on the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “To this . . . Mike?”

  “I’ve known him a long time, Wallace.” Letty reached across the desk and placed her hand over his. “He’s . . . he’s Patrick’s father. No one knows but Grandpa and now . . . you.”

  “It’s safe with me, Letty. Where does Mr. Graham fit in?”

  “There is no Mr. Graham. Graham was Grandma’s maiden name. You have been my dear friend all these years. I want to tell you about it.”

  Letty told Wallace how she had been brought up in a fanatically religious home and that she had not been allowed to associate with Mike because he was a Catholic. She explained that Mike had gone away to earn money so they could be married and in the meanwhile she learned she was pregnant.

  “My father threw me out. I was only fifteen. Grandpa and Grandma took me in. They decided to give me the name Graham so my father wouldn’t know I was here. My parents cut me out of their lives so completely that they declared me dead. Mike returned and believing that, he went off to war. I’m not surprised that my father and sister would do such a thing, but it’s hard for me to believe it of my mother.”

  “How did he find out you were here?”

  “He came back to find my grave. He still loves me, Wallace.”

  The doctor heaved a heavy sigh. “I hope your Mike knows how lucky he is.”

  “He does. He’s suffered too. He’s missed out on five years of his son’s life.”

  The door opened and Mrs. Crews’s short, stout body filled the doorway.

  “I thought that was your buggy, Mrs. Graham. News does spread fast. You got here just in time. She’ll be comin’ out of the hotel most any time now. My, my! It’s excitin’. Just imagine a real star right here in Piedmont.” The woman stopped long enough to take a gasping breath, then gushed on “I was comin’ to the store and got a glimpse of her coming up from the depot in a touring car. I hurried back to tell Marthy, Henny, Myrtle, and Bernice to get uptown. I didn’t want Doctor Hakes to miss out on seeing her. Just shut down the office, Doctor, and come up to the mercantile. There’s a good view of the hotel—”

  Wallace took the stout woman by the elbow. “Slow down, Mrs. Crews. Who are you talking about?”

  “Why . . . why . . . Sister Cora. She’s a angel of mercy is what she is. You could almost see the Lord hovering over her. She’s on a tour to heal the sick and raise money to build a temple. Doctor, wouldn’t it be grand if she built it right here in Piedmont?”

  Doctor Hakes let out an indistinguishable word.

  “I tell you, Doctor, we’re living in the last days.”

  Letty got to her feet in stunned silence while Mrs. Crews sank down in a chair and wiped her damp forehead with the sleeve of her dress.

  “I’ve got to be going.” Letty felt as if her legs had been knocked out from under her. Not knowing how she got there, she was at the door.

  “Letty.” Doctor Hakes followed her out to her buggy. “What’s the matter? Surely you don’t believe in that faker. She’s nothing but a . . . charlatan.”

  “No. I’ve got
to go. Please—”

  “Then what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because you’re white as a sheet.”

  “I’m ashamed to say that that . . . charlatan, swindler, two-faced actress who preys on the misery of others and offers them the hope of healing, is . . . my s-sister.” Letty forced the words from her tight throat.

  “Oh, God!”

  “I’ve got to go. I don’t want to see her or have anything to do with her. How can I get to the alley from here, Wallace?”

  “Turn here and go back behind my building. You can take the alley all the way out of town.” Wallace handed her the reins. “I’ll write to Mrs. Knight. Maybe I can get her up here. Meanwhile, you can use the mumps to hold Weaver off for about ten days.”

  “Thank you, Wallace.”

  Letty turned the corner and then headed up the alley toward The back of the building that fronted Main Street. More than anything she wished she could keep on going until she reached the farm and the safety of Mike’s arms but she had to stop at the store. Grandpa was almost out of tobacco. In a couple of days they would be out of coffee. Lord! Why had Cora stopped in this little town? She must have had a reason. Cora never did anything without a reason that would benefit Cora.

  The back door of the store was open. Letty tied the mare to a rail, went up the steps and into the back room. She paused to allow her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the darkened interior before weaving her way between barrels and crates to the door. A dozen people stood in excited groups looking out the door and the windows. No one was at the counter so Letty went over to Mr. Howard who was leaning on the wheel of the coffee grinder craning his neck to see out the window.

  “I’m in rather a hurry, Mr. Howard—”

  “Howdy, Mrs. Graham. I didn’t see you come in.”

  “I need a two-pound can of Prince Albert tobacco and five pounds of coffee beans.”

  “You want that I grind those beans?”

  “No. I’ll grind them a few at a time.”

  “Lots of excitement here today. Great for the town, just great.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ain’t you heard? Sister Cora’s in town. She’ll be holdin’ a meetin’ right out here in the street tonight.”

  “—And she’ll pass the collection plate no doubt.” Letty couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Mr. Howard was too excited to notice.

  “It’s bound to bring a crowd to town. She’s raisin’ money to build God’s temple.” He lifted the scoop from the scale and poured the beans into a sack.

  “And fill her own pockets,” Letty murmured, then said aloud to Mr. Howard. “Ten sticks of peppermint candy, please, and two scoops of lemon drops.”

  “Well, if it ain’t the uppity Mrs. Graham.”

  Letty turned to look into the bloodshot eyes of Cecil Weaver. His face was red and bloated. A stubble of beard covered his cheeks.

  “Mr. Weaver.” She nodded a dismissal and turned back to the clerk. “I need two spools of number fifty white thread.”

  “My girl still in bed with the mumps, Mrs. Graham?”

  “Mumps last for ten days.” Letty scooped up her purchases. “Put this on a bill, Mr. Howard. I don’t have enough money with me and I don’t have time to go to the bank.”

  “Sure, Mrs. Graham.”

  Letty went through the door and into the storeroom. She didn’t realize that Cecil had followed her until she reached the back door and he jerked the sack of coffee beans from her arms.

  “Let me help ya, Mrs. Graham.”

  “I don’t need or want your help.”

  “Course ya do. I owe ya fer takin’ such good care of my girl, her havin’ the mumps and all.”

  Letty felt his hand on the back of her neck. She shook free of it and hurried down the steps to the buggy. After putting the sacks on the floor she went to release the horse.

  Cecil tossed the bag of coffee beans onto the buggy seat, then put his hand over hers to prevent her from untying the reins.

  “Not so fast, ya uppity slut.” Quick as a flash he grabbed the front of her shirtwaist and jerked her up close to him. “I got me a notion ta beat the shit outta ya. Ya played me fer a fool. My kid ain’t got no mumps.”

  “Get your hands off me, you . . . filthy hog!” Her head was erect and she looked him in the eye. She was determined not to cower before this swine or let him know how frightened she was.

  “Get yore hands off me,” he mimicked. “You dried-up bitch. I’ve had me younger women than you.”

  “I’m sure you have! You’re rotten through and through. I wouldn’t walk on you if you were dirt!”

  “Think yore better’n me, huh? Huh?” Furious he jerked at her shirtwaist with both hands, popping the buttons and opening it to the band of her skirt. A thin undervest was all that covered her breasts.

  “Ohhh—!” She beat at him with her fists.

  “Hit me, will ya?”

  He slapped her with his open hand so hard that she would have fallen to the ground if not for the hand he had fastened in her hair. Pain from her scalp and face exploded in her head. Tears filled her eyes, and she fought to control the frantic sobs that came from her throat.

  “Ya feisty little split-tail. I’ll teach ya yore place.” The words were breathed in her face from a putrid mouth.

  After that the blows came on first one side of her face and then the other. Wild with fear, she fought with all her strength while her mind screamed. Somebody help me! Please! Help me! In full panic she lashed out with her foot and connected with his shin.

  “Ye . . . oow!” he howled with pain.

  The next blow split her lip and sent her stumbling backward to fall on her back so hard the wind was knocked from her lungs. Stunned, she tried to focus her eyes on the man looming over her. Her jaw felt like it was broken and her ears rang. She saw the kick coming and rolled to the side. The heavy boot struck her hip. Excruciating pain shot through her, forcing a scream from her lips.

  From far away she heard a shout.

  “Gawddamn you, Cecil! Get away from her!”

  Seconds later a body came flying over her and wrestled Cecil to the ground. Letty rolled, her only thought was to get away.

  “Letty! Are you hurt? What in the world was he doing that for?”

  Dazed, Letty looked up at Sharon Tarr. The girl put her arm under Letty’s shoulders and helped her to sit up. Letty looked fearfully past Sharon to see Oscar Phillips holding Cecil on the ground.

  “You bastard! Ya son of a mangy polecat. I ought to beat ya within an inch of your worthless life.”

  “Get off me,” Cecil growled. “She had it comin’.”

  Oscar’s rock-hard fist smashed into Cecil’s face.

  “What’d ya do that for?” Cecil said, and spit blood.

  “You had that comin’,” Oscar snarled.

  “What’s goin’ on here?” Mr. Howard came barreling down the back steps. “My Gawd,” he exclaimed when he saw Sharon helping Letty up off the ground. Letty was holding the front of her shirtwaist together. Her hair hung in strings around her face and blood from her lip trickled down her chin.

  “Oscar and I were coming up the alley,” Sharon said, drawing Letty’s shirt together and fastening it with a pin she took from her own dress. “We heard Letty cry out. He was beating her with his fists and kicking her. It was terrible, just terrible. He ought to be horsewhipped.”

  “My God, Weaver. Have you lost your mind?”

  “She stole my kid—”

  “Ya stupid . . . mule’s ass! She did no such. Shut your filthy mouth, or I’ll shut it for you,” Oscar said angrily. “There ain’t never no excuse for what you done.”

  “I want to go home.” Letty brushed her hair back from her eyes and stumbled to the hitching rail. Mr. Howard was there and took the reins from her hand.

  “Mrs. Graham, I’m just plumb sorry this took place in back of my store. Now, you ain’t in no shape to go off alone. Let me get someone to driv
e you.”

  “No! I’ll be all right. I’ve got to go. Just keep him here until I get home.” A few curious onlookers stood around. Letty ignored them and looked directly at Cecil Weaver. “Stay away from the farm. Stay away from Helen.”

  “You ain’t got no right to keep my little girl. I’ll have the sheriff on you.”

  “I’ve got a duty to protect that child from a beast like you. Get the sheriff and I’ll tell him why you’re so eager to get her back. The decent men in this town will hang you from the nearest tree.” Letty climbed painfully into the buggy and looked down at him. “When Mike sees what you’ve done to me, he’ll come looking for you. You’re big and brave when it comes to beating up a woman or a child. Let’s see how you stand up against a man. I hope he kills you!”

  “Do you want me to ride home with you, Letty?” Sharon asked.

  “No, I’ll be all right. Thank you for helping me. Oscar, I appreciate what you d-did. Th-thanks.”

  She slapped the reins against the mare’s back and the crowd moved aside. With her teeth clamped tightly together, her chin up and her back straight, she drove away. She’d be damned if she’d let the gawkers see how shaken and embarrassed she was. Her pride kept her emotions in check until she reached the edge of town. Then reaction set in. She could no more hold back the sobs that shook her shoulders or the tears that poured down her cheeks than she could hold back a tidal wave. She had never been so mortified, so miserable, or hurt in so many places in all her life.

  Letty whipped the horse into a run. The buggy bounced over the rutted road leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. She had to get home to Mike. Thank God, she wasn’t alone. She’d tell him what Cecil Weaver had done. Oh, Lord. Her mind wasn’t clear. He would see what Cecil had done. She needed Mike’s strength, his love. He would help her get herself together. She couldn’t let Patrick and Helen see her in this condition.

  Cora. She had to tell Mike about Cora. Cora was here because she wanted something. What if she had come to expose her sister as a loose woman with an illegitimate child. Cora would love to play on the fact that she was an angel and her sister a slut. The congregation would be sympathetic and put money in the collection plate so Sister Cora could save women like her from the eternal fires of hell.

 

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