by Lisa Wingate
“Them Prines won’t stop till they own the whole town.” Bodie’s eyes squeezed until they almost disappeared behind his big cheekbones.
Frank put in two cents that he probably shouldn’ta said in front of three preachers. You could always count on my brother to tell everybody exactly what he thought.
Sharon Lee mentioned that the Methodist campground might be a possibility, but it’d take a few days, maybe a week, to get all the approvals and the water turned back on and such.
“We hadn’t got a week,” I told her. “We hadn’t got a day, really. Come Monday mornin’, Betty’ll have the fire marshal on my doorstep first thing, and the fire marshal ain’t blind old Burt Battles anymore. It’s that new young fella from Dallas. You know and I know my buildin’s perfectly safe, but if Betty Prine sticks her nose in, with the way she’s got the commissioner’s court under her thumb, and that new fire marshal bein’ in office, it won’t be the kind of deal where they look past the squeaks and creaks of an old buildin’, and let business go on as usual. He’ll red tag me for havin’ too many people sleepin’ in my building, and about a dozen other things, too, I’ll bet.”
“We could use the churches,” Sharon suggested. “There’s nothing Betty can do about our putting people there.”
“Harold Prine’s on my church council,” Brother Ervin pointed out, and Sharon nodded gravely.
Pastor Harve leaned back in his chair and rubbed the top of his head, where thick white hair stood out against his skin like cotton fluff on polished brown leather. “Well, the churches don’t make too good a solution, anyhow.” His deep, scratchy voice rumbled around the room in a way that made everyone else stop and listen. “No bathtubs, no showers, not enough restrooms for that many folks. I been talkin’ to their Pastor D., and he’s afraid it’ll be a couple weeks, even a month, before they got power and water back in their area. And that’s assumin’ they got a place to go home to. No way of knowin’ that yet. If we put folks in the churches and then the Prines decide to make trouble, they can get every one of our old church buildin’s wrote up for code violations, just like Donetta’s place, and then the Prines can get the insurance companies all riled up, and we’ll all end up in a pickle.”
“We could try to put the evacuees in houses around town,” Sharon suggested. “I have a guest room.” Bless her heart, but she hadn’t been in town long enough to know Betty Prine very well.
“Hon,” I told her, “even if we could find enough space—which’d be hard, because quite a few local folks already got relatives staying here for the evacuation—once Betty Prine gets around, you won’t hardly be able to find anybody who’ll give out a guest room. Harold’s bank owns half the mortgages in town, for one thing. These days, with the economy bein’ what it is, there’s a lot of folks a payment or two behind. They can’t afford to get Harold mad.”
Brother Ervin nodded, and so did Pastor Harve, and we all scratched our thinking caps some more.
Strange as it may be, Doyle Banes was the first one to speak up. “I uggg-got a idea.”
All of us turned his way at once. I was scared to ask what he had in mind, because it takes Doyle a long time to spit out a whole idea. The day was rushin’ by in a hurry. Any time now, I’d be getting a call from Betty Prine, demanding to know why my building wasn’t empty yet.
The phone rang, and I figured it was probably her.
“Which kind idea?” Lucy gave Doyle a patient look.
“W-w-well …” Any sentence Doyle started with well was gonna take a while. “I was-was thinkin’, we uuuh could-could-could, maybe could uhhh s-s-see about, see about uhhh askin’ uhhh …”
On the other side of the room, Frank smacked the palm of his hand on the chair arm. “I think we oughta just git some pitchforks and a torch or two and head on over to the Prine place. I’ll rustle up a wood stake and some garlic.”
Imagene giggled and swatted at Frank, and he winked at her where he thought no one’d see it.
“Ssshhh!” Lucy hissed, which was pretty bold for Lucy. Folding her hands in her lap, she turned back to Doyle. “Which kind idea you got? Good idea, I bet.”
Doyle’s big droopy eyes went wide, and he straightened like he was Pinocchio and somebody’d just pulled the strings. He cleared his throat real big and said, “I was thinkin’ we could put-put ’em out at the Anderson-Shay ranch.” That was about the clearest sentence Doyle’d ever spit out. “All-all-all them buildings been fixed up, gettin’ ready for the umm-movie filmin’ and the foster shelter, y’know.”
The thought swirled round the room like a hawk gliding in circles—kind of quiet, and interesting to look at.
“I thought the work out there’d hit a snag,” I said. For months, all kinds of construction crews and volunteers had been working to bring the old Barlinger ranch back to life so Amber Anderson and Justin Shay could start filming The Horseman and then move on with the plans to turn the place into a new charity home for foster kids. The foster shelter plans’d got put on hold, though, because an anonymous citizen brought up questions about whether there was enough water supply out there for the sprinkler systems that a group home had to have. Now the well had to be tested, and probably more wells drilled.
We all knew who Mrs. Anonymous was. Betty and Harold were all for our town getting famous with a movie bein’ made here, but they didn’t want any bunch of foster kids moving in and going to Daily schools.
Doyle had a sneaky little gleam in his eye. I’d never seen sneaky and Doyle in the same seat before. “We-we-we still been workin’ out there. Don’t tell uuun-nobody. Scooter hooked up the ulll-lectric last week. Marley checked the plummin’, uhhh checked it Thursdey.”
“He did?” Imagene’s mouth dropped open with shock, and mine did, too. The very idea that something so big could have been going on just a few miles outside Daily, and we didn’t know anything about it!
“I been haulin’ fill dirt from F-F-F-Frank’s place.”
“You have?” My head snapped toward Frank, who was lookin’ three shades of pale, and rightly so. How dare my brother be in on such a big secret and not share it with us gals!
“Frank never said anythin’,” I shot Frank a glare that coulda fried an egg. He snatched his cowboy hat off his knee, dropped it on his head, and pulled the brim low.
“B-b-b-b-been on the Q.T.,” Doyle added.
I gandered around the room and figured out right then that everyone knew but me. Imagene was looking down at her hands and Lucy’d turned her ear to the dog barking out back, like it was real important.
“Looks to me like everyone thinks Donetta Bradford can’t keep a secret,” I said.
“Now, Netta,” Imagene said, trying to settle me, but I pointed a finger at her before she could finish.
“And you! There you are, my best friend, and us about to die in a tornado and a hurricane, and you didn’t even fess up then!”
Imagene flapped her lips like a fish trying to spit out a hook. “I didn’t think it mattered right then, Donetta, and besides, I … promised Frank I wouldn’t breathe a word.”
“Promised Frank?” I coughed out. “Promised Frank? Well, since when does—” Every once in a while, the Lord actually gets His hand over my mouth in time, because I was about to say, Since when does Frank rate above your best friend? Imagene would never’ve forgiven me for saying something about her and Frank in front of everybody.
I sat back in my chair, hooked my arms over my chest, and said, “Never mind. If we can’t put a bunch of foster kids out there because of the wells, how we gonna put a whole churchload of folks? Betty Prine’ll just stick her big nose in and shut us down.”
“Unnn-not if she don’t know.” Doyle gave me a crafty look. “Betty don’t-don’t-don’t have no reason to uggg-go way out there.”
“How we gonna feed ’em? It’ll be a lot of groceries to buy,” I pointed out. “They ain’t got that much money left, after buyin’ gas to get here.”
Brother Ervin cleared his throat, a
little smile slowly spreading under his mustache. “I got a big check from Harold Prine just this mornin’. He said it was a donation to help the evacuees get to a shelter.”
I sucked in a breath, because it ain’t every day the Baptist preacher suggests tellin’ a lie and committin’ financial fraud. “But that money’s for gas.”
“And we’ll be glad to use it for gas,” Brother Ervin said. “Which’ll free up the money Pastor D.’s got left in his reserve. That’ll buy a bunch of groceries.”
“By golly, I’ll donate some, too!” Bodie struck a vengeful fist in the air, and I couldn’t blame him. “Heck, I’ll drive my truck over to the Wal-Mart in Austin and buy the groceries myself.”
We went on with the planning from there, until we finally had the details worked out. Doyle, Ervin, and Frank were gonna get busy and gather up all the blankets and pillows they could, then get cots from the Methodist campground. Harlan would finish his mail route, then pick up his wife and they’d head to the grocery store with Bodie. Imagene and I would explain everything to Sister Mona and Pastor D. At four o’clock, the whole Holy Ghost crew would roll on out of town, head down the highway, and loop right around Bee Hollow Road, the back way to the ranch. Meanwhile, Pastor Harve and his bunch from Caney Creek Church would cook up some brisket and beans for a hot supper out there tonight.
“Oh, hang, somebody better get ahold of Justin Shay or Amber Anderson and make sure it’s okay to put all them people out there,” Imagene pointed out. “It’s their ranch, after all.”
“Well, that’s true.” I was mad at Imagene, but she was right. “Amber’s on singin’ tour someplace. And I saw on Celebs Inside where Justin’s still in that rehab center way out in the desert somewhere, but he’s doin’ real good. No tellin’ how hard it might be to get ahold of him or Amber. I’ll get busy and call Lauren. She’s out in California helpin’ with the movie script right now. She might could tell us how to get permission to use the ranch.”
“If Betty finds out they let us put people out there, she’ll make even more trouble about the foster shelter plans, you know.” It was just like Imagene to worry about everything that might happen. Imagene never took a step in her life without looking three times at where her foot was gonna land.
“One horse at a time,” Brother Ervin reminded, and he was right. No sense borrowing trouble when we had enough already.
We went over the plans again real quick, then everyone got up and headed for the door. I ended up in the living room with my brother.
“Where’s Kemp at?” he asked as he hauled himself out of the chair and worked on getting upright.
“He’s with Kai, I reckon. I hadn’t seen them since they left for breakfast.”
Frank smacked his lips. One thing about Frank, he never let his kids sit idle for a minute. They always had to be working. “Hope Kemp remembered to go by the house and feed that bottle baby calf in the pen. I reckon I’ll try to figure out where he’s at, and he can come help with the furniture movin’.”
“You don’t worry about him.” I wagged a finger at Frank. “He’s already been over to the school this mornin’ to let the boys work out in the field house, which oughta be the football coach’s job. And he’s been showin’ Kai around town, and I got a feelin’ about them two.”
Frank rolled his eyes, his mustache hiding a new frown. “Leave the boy alone, Netta. You already got my daughter flittin’ off to California, in love with a movie writer. Kemp’s got enough on his plate, between teachin’ and coachin’ and havin’ them surgeries on his arm. He don’t need to be moonin’ after some gal that’s just here till she can head back home to the coast. He’s already facin’ a half-dozen doctors tellin’ him all different things about his pitchin’ arm. He don’t need to be settin’ himself up for one more heartache.”
“Ffff!” Sometimes Frank didn’t have even a speck of vision. “Far as I can tell, Kemp’s settlin’ back in here real good. Seems like he likes livin’ out at the ranch again, and he’s good with the kids at school. I hear their test scores were up ten percent in math last spring. He’s a good teacher and a good coach, and if he could just find him a little gal … the right little gal this time … he’d quit moonin’ over playin’ pro baseball and start makin’ hisself a normal life.”
Frank held up his cowboy hat and sighted down the brim, like that hat bein’ straight mattered more than what I was sayin’. “Just let him be, Netta. I want that boy here at home just as much as you do, but maybe his idea of a good life ain’t livin’ right in Daily and settlin’ down and findin’ him a wife. Maybe he don’t want to give up on baseball until he don’t have any other options.”
“Ffff! What’s one more surgery and one more go-round gonna get him, except back home again in six months, or a year, or two years in the same spot he’s in now? There ain’t any point in him livin’ through it all again. I think deep down he knows that. I think he’s ready for somethin’ new in his life.” Talking to Frank about matters of the heart was like waltzing with a mule. “Maybe he’s still tryin’ to make peace with it all right now, but you didn’t see the way he looked at that girl the first time he laid eyes on her. He was dumbstruck. I ain’t ever seen Kemp dumbstruck, have you?”
Frank pulled in air and let out a big sigh. “Cute little gal like that’ll turn any boy’s head, but that don’t mean there’s somethin’ more on the horizon.”
“You ain’t got a romantic bone in your body, Frank Eldridge.”
“Maybe not.” He shrugged like he didn’t care one whit. Then he crossed the room and walked out the door. I just let him go and grabbed the phone and called Lauren to track down Justin Shay about using the ranch.
By the time I got done with the call and headed outside, Frank and Imagene were lingerin’ in the carport. They were standin’ close, like they had a secret between them. Soon as they saw me, they stepped apart like a couple kids caught flirtin’. Frank waved over his shoulder, then walked out to his truck and drove off, and Imagene headed back in. I stopped her at the door, because I’d had just about enough of them carrying on. “You know what?” Even though I could hear Lucy coming up behind me, I went right on. “If you and Frank are gonna be sweet on each other, you oughta just come out with it.”
Imagene’s mouth dropped open, and I thought she’d faint and fall out right there, but then she just flushed red and looked away. “Gracious, Netta.”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with it. Not one thing—him bein’ a widower since the kids were little and you a widow over a year now. Jack wouldn’t have a grudge against it, either. He’d want you to be happy. He’d want you both to be happy. He loved you and Frank both. Life’s too short to be mealymouthin’ around. You got to go after your own happiness.”
Imagene poked her hands onto her hips so hard they disappeared in there somewhere. “And what about you, Donetta Bradford? Here you are givin’ all this advice, and where’s Ronald? Where’s he at right now?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled up my chin, because she’d hit a sore spot.
Imagene whipped out her chubby little finger and pointed it at me. “And you ain’t tried to find out. You know full well that Kemp or Buddy Ray Baldridge or the sheriff would go down the river and look for Ronald right now if you asked, but you hadn’t asked, because you got your feelings hurt and you’re too proud to say so.”
“I hadn’t got time to worry about where Ronald’s fishin’ right now. He’ll come back when he comes back, I reckon.” I tried to act like it didn’t matter, but Imagene knew. She’d got me by the short hairs the way only a best friend can. “There’s more important things to think about. We have all these people to tend.”
Imagene hooked her eyes on me so hard I felt pulled down by it. “It don’t have anything to do with those people, Netta, and you know it. This’s been goin’ on between you and Ronald a long time. You’re just gonna sit here and die on the vine without a word, because you’re too stubborn to tell that man how you feel.”
S
omething drew tight in my ribs and stung like a thistle burr in the back of my nose. “Ronald don’t listen, Imagene. It’s like livin’ with a two-hundred-pound sack of beans. You don’t understand, because you and Jack never were that way.”
“Jack’s Jack and Ronald’s Ronald.” Imagene’s voice got quiet. “That man loves you, Netta.”
“Not so you could tell it.” Even though I didn’t want to, even though I was hard in my heart about it, and I had been for a long time, my eyes welled up, and right there in the carport I broke down and started to cry.
Imagene took me in her arms and rocked me back and forth like a baby, and then I felt Lucy join in, too, until we were just a wad of girlfriends, swaying back and forth while the flies buzzed overhead, looking for a warm place to land before the evenin’ set in.
Chapter 20
Kai Miller
Every once in a while, you experience a day that’s perfect, except for the little voice in your head whispering that you’ll wake up sooner or later and it will all be a dream, so you shouldn’t get too invested. But you can’t help it, because everything feels so right.
My day with Kemp was like that. A span of time apart from any reality and unlike any other. After the vet visit and the baseball game, we returned Radar to Donetta’s yard and packed firewood into a hole under the fence so the dog wouldn’t make another great escape. As we were finishing, Kemp mentioned that he needed to go feed a bottle baby, whatever that meant, and asked if I wanted to ride along. With no idea what I might be getting into, I agreed. We grabbed some lunch at Dairy Queen, and Kemp drove us out to his family’s ranch, where, I gathered, his dad lived in the main house and Kemp lived in the original farmhouse, as he put it, on the back side of the place.
As we drove, I took in the countryside, enjoying the view, as the late-summer breeze wafted in the windows, contributing to the sheen of perfection on the day. Having come to town in the dark, I hadn’t fully appreciated how beautiful it was here. Outside the window, the grass grew sparse and feathery among thick, squatty nests of prickly-pear cactus and yuccas with tall stalks that had yielded summer flowers but now were dried brown and hard in the sun. When I asked about them, Kemp laughed and said that as kids, they’d often cracked off the dead stalks and used them for sword fights. “Jen was the champ. She just about poked my eye out once.”