“But, darlin’ … I’m tired of traveling.”
“Already? We’ve been gone only ten days.”
“I want a bath. And I want to sleep in a real bed. With you,” she added in a whisper.
“I explained that it would be a rough trip.”
Sugar sniffed. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”
“When we get to Oklahoma City, I’ll see about getting a motor cabin for the night. How’s that?”
“Would you? Oh, darlin’, you are the sweetest thing.” Sugar threw her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses.
Mona looked at her brother and crossed her eyes. He burst out laughing.
Foley looked over his shoulder. “What tickled your funny bone?”
“Mona yawned and a fly flew into her mouth.” Jody tried to keep a straight face while telling the lie to his father.
When Foley turned back to Sugar, who was snuggled against him, Jody winked at his sister. She put her hand over her mouth to control her giggles.
While waiting for the Putmans to come back to the highway, Margie passed the time looking at her movie magazines. When Elmer got out of the truck and leaned against the fender to watch the traffic go by, her hands stilled on the magazine and she looked at him through the truck’s dusty windshield. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his old felt hat pulled down, shielding a face that, no doubt, showed not a trace of expression.
How could he be her father? Could her mother have had a secret lover? No, she told herself. If her granny had had the slightest suspicion that Elmer was not her father, she would have told her, because she had no use for the man at all. Oh, but she wished he were not so uncompromising and obstinate.
She had been embarrassed last night when he hadn’t offered any assistance. And again this morning when he never thanked Alvin or Brady for removing the threat to all of them. She had no doubt that if she mentioned it to him, he would dump her out along the highway like so much garbage.
What would he say if he knew that Brady had kissed her? She answered her own question. Plenty. It would prove to him that she was the slut he believed her to be.
She had relived those kisses a hundred times. Brady’s mouth had been warm and firm and had moved over hers with familiar ease. There had been nothing tentative or hesitant about the kiss. When he raised his head, his eyes had searched hers before he kissed her again. She had been stunned by his brazen action.
It hurt her that he considered kissing her as something to “get out of the way.” She had walked away feeling as if her heart had been stomped on. But during the long sleepless night she had come to realize that she had only herself to blame. He was a man, after all, a very virile man. To be loved by a man like Brady Hoyt would be any girl’s dream.
She could have protested. She could have slapped him as he suggested. Instead she had sat there and let him have his way with her.
It was going to be hard facing him in the light of day, but face him she must. The best way to handle the situation would be to act as if it had meant nothing at all to her. It had happened. There was nothing she could do about it now. But she could make sure that it didn’t happen again and that he never know how his kisses had thrilled her to her curled-up toes.
Margie saw the Putman truck coming back to the highway and behind it a sheriff’s car. Alvin stuck out his arm to signal a left turn. The Sapulpa sheriff turned right to go toward the campground. Elmer got back into the truck, and they were on their way again.
They passed through the towns of Kellyville, Bristow and Depew. The highway between Depew and Stroud was under construction, and Elmer had to dodge around the graders working to prepare it for paving. Stroud was a sleepy little town, but it had once been a tough, prosperous place. The Great Depression and Dust Bowl conditions were leaving deep scars on the towns and emotional wounds on the folks who lived in them.
A dozen years before, cattle drovers had shipped their animals from Stroud, but the bars that had made money selling illegal whiskey were gone, as were most of the businesses on the main street. The worst drought in recent history had reduced the price of wheat to thirty-three cents a bushel. The banks had foreclosed, and the families were moving on.
Davenport was merely a wide spot in the road. Alvin pulled over beneath a row of oak trees and stopped. To Margie’s surprise, Elmer went on around him and pulled into a gas station. A big yellow dog got up, stared at them, then walked a few feet and flopped down again. After the man in grease-covered overalls put gas in the truck, Elmer followed him inside the small brick building, digging into his pocket for money to pay for the gas.
Margie looked back down the highway. Anna Marie and Grace were standing beside the truck. The Lukers were behind the Putmans. There was no sign of Brady’s black sedan.
It was hot inside the cab of the truck even with the windows down and the windshield tilted to let in a breeze. A big blowfly came in the window, and Margie fanned it away with a movie magazine. Soon it got tired and flew out again. Minutes passed. She craned her neck to see inside the station. Elmer was sitting down, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands clasped across his midsection, as if he planned to stay there awhile.
Margie needed to use the outhouse. She waited for what seemed to her a quarter of an hour before she got out of the truck and went to the door of the station.
“Mister,” she said, and waited until the man acknowledged her. “May I use your outhouse?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ya just go right ahead and help yoreself.”
“Thank you.”
Margie was in the two-hole outhouse before it occurred to her that Elmer might go off and leave her, as Ernie Harding had done when she went to the outhouse at Andy’s campground down near Sayre. She hurriedly finished what she had come to do and went back to the truck. She climbed into the back and filled a fruit jar with water from the keg. It was warm but wet, and soothed her scratchy throat. When she returned to the cab of the truck, she brought a handful of crackers and a hunk of cheese.
She ate slowly, and when she finished, Elmer still lounged in the chair inside the station. Margie suspected that he planned to spend the noon stop there so as to avoid talking to the others in the caravan. She went to the back of the truck again and wet a cloth to wipe her face, after which she spread on a layer of Pond’s cream, enjoying the soothing effect on her windburned skin.
Later she fanned her face with the movie magazine, trying to brace up her sagging eyelids. But she fell asleep with her head resting against the back of the seat. When Elmer got into the truck and slammed the door, she woke with a start. He was eating a hot dog he must have bought at the small café across the street. Alvin’s truck passed, and Elmer pulled out onto the highway and fell in line behind it. Margie looked back and was relieved to see Brady’s sedan following the Lukers.
The afternoon passed slowly. After Chandler they went through several small towns. Near Arcadia, Margie spied the old round barn she had seen when she passed this way before and wondered what advantage it had over the rectangular barns with the big haylofts.
On the outer edge of Oklahoma City, they turned off the highway and followed Alvin into a field already occupied by four other campers. Elmer swung out and away from the others and parked with the back of the truck facing the campground. Margie got out and stretched. Brady passed and waved. She lifted a casual hand and began gathering firewood left by another camper.
Jody Luker came by while Margie was slicing potatoes into a skillet.
“Hi, Margie. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble tonight.” He gestured toward the other campers. “They’ve all got kids.”
“Have you heard what the sheriff had to say this morning when Brady turned over the men who might have robbed us?”
“No, but I’m on my way to find out.”
She was opening a can of corn to serve over the fried potatoes when Jody came back by.
“Brady said the sheriff couldn’t hold them becau
se they hadn’t actually committed the robbery, but he said he’d keep them there until we got on down the highway. Brady took some parts off their old car. He said it’d not be running anytime soon.”
“I’m glad of that.”
“Pa’s unhooking the trailer. He promised Sugar they’d stay in a motor cabin tonight.”
“You and Mona will stay here?”
“Yeah. I’ll put up the tent for Mona. I just hope Sugar don’t run Pa out of money before we get to California.”
Margie watched Jody walk away and thought that he was a son a man should be proud of. Mona was lucky to have a brother like him to look out for her. Foley Luker was ten times a fool, but, then, most of the men she had come in contact with were, including Ernie Harding and her own father. She could even add Brady Hoyt to the list. He had kissed her as if it were a chore to get out of the way!
On the other side of the list were Mr. Putman and Rusty. They seemed nice and trustworthy. On further thought she added Yates and the funny little man called Deke at Andy’s Garage in Sayre … and Harry back at the café in Conway. He had thought enough of her to give her the pistol and show her how to use it.
“I can’t be cynical like Elmer,” she murmured to herself. “I got into this mess because I wanted to go to California. I’ll stick it out if it kills me.”
Homer Persy watched Brady and then the sheriff drive away from the campground. He went behind the car, dropped his drawers, removed his underwear and attempted to clean himself.
He swore using every foul word he’d ever heard.
“I’ll get that son of a bitch if it takes the rest of my life.” He burned with the desire for revenge.
The hick sheriff had laughed and held his nose when he discovered that Homer had messed on himself. The cowboy had sneered at him. “If I’d known he wasn’t housebroke, I’d of put a diaper on him.”
He’d get even. Nobody treated Homer Persy like that and got away with it.
Homer threw his soiled underwear in the bushes and put on his britches. He had caught a grin on the face of Ross, the man his Uncle Chester had brought along. It hadn’t sat well.
“If not for yore bungling, we’da had a hostage and been long gone. You let that hick get the drop on you.”
“I told you I wasn’t for takin’ a hostage. Kidnappin’ ain’t somethin’ folks sneeze at,” Ross shot back.
“Well, you can just get yoreself on down the road. Ya ain’t ridin’ back in this car.” Homer was itching for a fight.
“Neither are you,” Ross growled. “Unless you know how to put it back together.”
“I suppose you do.”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve already picked up the parts that cowboy threw in the bushes.”
“Well, get at it. That cowboy and them women are headed for California. There ain’t but one way to get there— down old Highway 66.”
“I’ll fix your car, but I ain’t havin’ no part in hurtin’ no women.”
“I ain’t heared nobody askin’ ya to be part. Did you, Uncle Chester? Did you ask him to come with us?”
Chester Ford grinned and shook his head at his nephew. “Yo’re more like yore grandpa ever’day.” Chester took pride in his infamous relative, Bob Ford, who had killed Jesse James.
“And just as sneaky as the back-shootin’ bastard,” Ross muttered under his breath, and lifted the hood on the old car.
Chapter 9
BRADY FOLLOWED THE LUKERS into the campground near Oklahoma City. He was irritated with the sheriff back in Sapulpa.
“I’ve got a jailhouse full of bootleggers and bank robbers. I’ve not got time to mess with petty crooks.”
“Well, dammit, they wouldn’t have been ‘petty crooks’ if we hadn’t got the jump on them.”
“I know. Aggravatin’ as hell, ain’t it? Happens every day. I get my hands on a piece of shit that hasn’t done quite enough to be sent up for; but you know he’s goin’ to, and you got to wait for it.”
Homer Persy had been so angry he was practically frothing at the mouth and, before the sheriff got there, had threatened to get even. Brady and Rusty had sat in the car, laughing and holding their noses to further irritate him. Homer had calmed down, however, by the time the sheriff arrived, and vigorously denied the robbery attempt.
“I’ll sign a complaint if you want,” Brady had said.
“Wouldn’t stick. This one”—the sheriff indicated Homer—“smells like a privy. I don’t want him stinkin’ up my jailhouse.”
“Then we’ll be on our way.”
Both Brady and Rusty had taken delight in the fact that neither the crooks nor the sheriff was aware that Rusty couldn’t see.
Now with his hand on Rusty’s back Brady guided him to where Alvin had stopped the truck. Blackie followed. Brady had had only a glimpse of Margie when he drove in. She had answered his wave halfheartedly and disappeared in the back of the truck.
“Uncle Brady!” Anna Marie ran to meet him. “Guess what?”
“You learned another song.” He grabbed her up in his arms. She planted a kiss on his cheek.
“How did you know?”
“A little bird told me.”
“Did it, Rusty? Did a bird tell him?”
“I might remember if I got a hug.”
Brady moved so that Anna Marie’s arms could circle Rusty’s neck. Rusty held the child while she kissed him on the cheek. With Brady’s hand against his back they walked on.
“I’ve not ever been kissed by such a pretty girl.”
“How do you know?” Anna Marie asked with the frankness of a child. “You can’t see me.”
“No, but as sweet as you are, you’ve just got to be pretty.”
He put his nose against her face. “And you smell pretty.”
“I like you, Rusty. Almost as much as Uncle Brady. Will you sing songs tonight?”
“How could I refuse? And I like you too.” A tug on his shirt told Rusty they had reached the camp. He stopped and set the child on her feet. She ran to the car to get her jump rope.
Jody joined them, and while Grace prepared the evening meal, Rusty and Brady took turns telling what happened after the sheriff had arrived.
“Do you think they will follow?” Alvin asked.
“I didn’t see any sign in their car that they’re prepared for a long trip. It’ll take them a while to fix it unless one of them is a crackerjack mechanic.”
“Speaking of mechanics,” Alvin said to Jody, “how’s your pa’s radiator?”
“It’s still holding. He’s takin’ his Sugar to a motor cabin tonight.”
“You and Mona are staying here?”
“We’ll be all right. Pa can’t afford two cabins.”
“Then, come eat with us tonight.” Grace came to stand beside her husband. “I cooked a pot of stew last night.”
“We … couldn’t impose. Pa’s leaving the trailer. We’ll find something.”
“Won’t do. You’ll eat with us.” Grace glanced at her son. He was combing the burs out of Blackie’s fur, but he was listening intensely. “Scoot now. Go fetch your sister.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Mona can help me clear up afterward. I think we should have a singing tonight, Alvin. Maybe some of the other campers will join us. Why don’t you invite ’em? They look like decent folks.”
While eating, Brady sat where he could see the Kinnard camp. Margie fixed herself a plate of food, then moved around to the other side of the truck, where he couldn’t see her. Elmer sat on the canvas chair beside the cab of the truck.
If he was smart, Brady told himself, he wouldn’t get to within ten feet of Margie Kinnard lest she become too important to him. He could like her, be interested in her welfare, without falling in love with her. He didn’t want to love her or any woman right now. The time wasn’t right for him.
Besides, he’d seen what love could do to a man. Love with the wrong woman was having your heart and soul twisted, tied and knotted and then �
�� stomped on. Even as he thought this, he was planning on how he could get Margie to come over to the Putman camp for the get-together.
It had seemed reasonable to him, at the time, that once he’d kissed her, she would become just another pretty girl. He was dead wrong. He’d thought of her sweet mouth and soft body all day. Thank the good Lord she was a girl whose dreams didn’t include a piss-poor cowboy, a girl who had set her sights on Hollywood; otherwise he’d be in deep trouble.
While Mona and Grace were washing the supper dishes, Alvin, holding Anna Marie’s hand, walked over to visit with the other campers. Soon he was squatted down talking to a man in a battered straw hat and Anna Marie was running and playing with the children.
Brady made a quick decision. He went to his car to check the water and the oil. When he finished, he headed for the Kinnard camp.
“Evenin’,” he said to Elmer, who sat back in his canvas chair, his arms folded across his chest, eyeing Brady as if he had just crawled out from under a rock. Margie was washing dishes on the tailgate of the truck.
“If all goes well, we’ll be in Amarillo in a couple of days.” Brady squatted on his heels and poked a stick into the campfire.
Elmer grunted.
“Truck runnin’ all right?”
Silence. Brady sat back to wait him out.
Finally Elmer said, “I ain’t goin’ to hold you up, if that’s what’s worryin’ you.”
“I’m not losing any sleep over it. Foley’s radiator is sure to blow soon. I’m hopin’ it happens before we get to where the towns are a hundred miles apart.”
Elmer grunted an incoherent reply.
“Alvin keeps his truck in good shape; checks oil and water regularly.”
“You think I don’t?”
“Didn’t give it a thought.” It was a challenge for Brady to force Elmer to carry on this conversation. He wasn’t going to let him freeze him out. The bastard. He’d like nothing better than to put his fist through the man’s face. “Been in the ice business long?”
Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] Page 10