Town Social

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  "My geranium cuttings are about ready to replant," she said as she set the glass down. "I've got way too many plants already. Would you like to take some with you and use them around the porch on Cassie's house? They would brighten the place up quite a bit. Cassie and your grandmother used to love working with flowers and keeping their yard up, but your mother wasn't much for gardening. Funny how different the sisters were. Here, I'll get some more cookies, too. There's plenty left, and I'll wrap some up for you to take home for Teddy."

  Sunny captured Ruth's hand when she reached for the cookie plate. "Ruth, please. Please. Sit down and tell me what you're trying to hide from me. What did I say to bring on this sudden case of jitters with you?"

  "Sunny, child, maybe you should talk to Cassie."

  "I've tried, Ruth. Really, I have. About all I've been able to glean is that something caused a rift between my mother and her sister. And that's more from my aunt's attitude, not anything at all she will tell me in words."

  When Ruth still hesitated, though she did sit down again, Sunny pleaded, "Don't I have a right to know if there's some reason my aunt resents my appearance in town, Ruth? I can't think of a thing I could have done to her to make her hate me, since I'd never even met her until a few days ago."

  "Oh, Sunny, dear. I wouldn't call it hatred. And I doubt very much that it's you personally. It might just be some of the memories you bring back to Cassie. You look an awful lot like your mother, you know."

  "What memories?" Sunny insisted.

  Ruth's brow furrowed, and she clasped her hands on the table. "It's . . ." She took a deep breath. "Sunny, you have to realize that I don't know a thing for sure. There was speculation back then, but I don't hold with that sort of stuff. Rumors are only that — rumors. Small towns are ripe with things like that, and I hear all of them at one point or another in the store. But as many of them turn out false as true."

  "At least tell me what the speculation was, Ruth. Please. I have my reasons for wanting to know."

  Ruth leaned back in her chair and studied Sunny for a long moment. "All right," she said at last. "But you keep in mind what I said about all this being speculation."

  "I will. I promise."

  "Well, as you already know, your grandparents died not long before your mother came to St. Louis. Both Cassie and Samantha took their deaths hard, especially since they lost them both within a day of each other in an influenza epidemic. Did you know how they had died?"

  "Yes. Yes, I knew about that. I'm sure it was very hard on both of the children."

  "Well, Cassie had planned to be married the week after their deaths. Of course, she cancelled her wedding until she'd gone through a mourning period. Cassie's very strict on maintaining convention."

  "I've found that out already about her," Sunny agreed. "Who was she betrothed to?"

  "A man named Ian Lassiter. I heard around town that Ian was pretty upset about the wedding being postponed, and some of us even wondered if that would give Charlie a chance to pursue his own suit with Cassie. We all really felt Charlie was a better choice, but Cassie was all starry-eyed over Ian. She fell for him hook, line and sinker within a few days of when he came to town. And he was a mighty fine looking man, although I didn't much care for his overbearing, selfish attitude."

  "Who's Charlie?" Sunny asked. The name nagged at her somewhat, but she's known several men named Charles in her life. "And why did the wedding never come off?"

  "Charlie is Charlie Duckworth," Ruth explained. "He was a friend of both Cassie and Samantha while they grew up. They were quite a threesome, and you usually saw them together. Cassie even called him 'Duckie' now and then, and Charlie had a few set-tos with some of the other boys over that nickname. Charlie was at Mr. Tompkin's funeral, but I guess no one introduced you to him. He was helping the undertaker fill in the grave as we left."

  "I remember seeing him. I also saw him with Jake the other morning."

  "Yes, he and Jake met somewhere along the way after Charlie left Liberty Flats, I guess. They're very close friends."

  Sunny's impatience with Ruth's meandering tale grew, but she forced herself to remain quiet. Ruth could just as easily leave her hanging and clam up. The bits and pieces still weren't making a bit of sense to Sunny, and she hoped her tolerance would result in some clarification.

  "As you know," Ruth said into the silence, "the wedding never came off. That's where all the speculation comes in. Charlie, being a close family friend, spent a lot of time with both Cassie and Samantha after their parents died. Then one day . . ."

  "What?" Sunny couldn't keep from prodding.

  "One day Samantha announced she was going to St. Louis to stay with a friend she'd met while she was away at finishing school that one year. And she went, just like that. The very next day she got on the weekly stage. Why, I can't imagine that she even had much time to pack."

  "I don't understand," Sunny said. "My mother probably just wanted to get away for a while, and come to terms with her grief over her parents' deaths. That's why I came to Liberty Flats, you know. It was somewhere to get away from all the memories of my mother for a while."

  "Yes, but . . . but . . ."

  "But what, Ruth? Please. Please go on."

  "Charlie disappeared, too," Ruth said in a musing voice. "The very next day, his mother told me she'd found a note in his bedroom saying just that he was going away for a while. That he'd be in touch. Then we heard that Cassie had completely broken her betrothment to Ian. It looked like . . ."

  "It looked like Charlie and my mother had run away together, didn't it?" Sunny supplied. "That maybe Cassie had realized she really cared more for Charlie, but by then it was too late because Charlie eloped with my mother. And Aunt Cassie broke her engagement because she knew she didn't love Mr. Lassiter. But that can't be true, because my mother married someone else."

  "I know, dear. That's why I say everything is speculation and rumor. Now, truly, let's talk about something else. Why, there are so many opportunities for improvements in Liberty Flats now that Jake has brought law and order to the town."

  Ruth's voice faded into the tumbling thoughts in Sunny's head. It still didn't make a bit of sense. Had her mother met her father, William Fannin, somewhere during her journey to St. Louis? Had they had a whirlwind courtship and been already married when they settled in that city? But why wouldn't her mother have settled in whatever town she met her husband in? It seemed way too much of a coincidence for her to have met a man already from St. Louis on her very journey to that city. However, she supposed it could have happened — that there could have been a chance meeting with someone returning home to St. Louis from a trip out of town.

  Why hadn't she at least checked the marriage records before she left St. Louis? But then, she'd had no reason to doubt her mother's story at that point, at least based on the little bit of information she had. And why did the name Charlie Duckworth seem so familiar? It was a strange enough name that it should have stuck in her mind.

  "Despite your recent bereavement, everyone will be pleased to know you don't intend to shut yourself away from life like Cassie does," Sunny became aware of Ruth saying. "I'd be awfully pleased if you and Teddy would attend church with Fred and me tomorrow. It would give me the opportunity to introduce you to the townspeople afterwards. Church is one place that Cassie always goes, however, so she may expect you to walk with her."

  "I doubt that. I . . . you might as well know, I guess. I'm not having much success in being friends with my aunt. If there were any other place in town for me to live, I do believe I might move out. The strained atmosphere isn't really conducive to a child's high spirits, and I hate to subject Teddy to that. But Aunt Cassie tells me the boarding house is full."

  "She told you right about that. As far as I know, there's only one empty building in the entire town, and that's right next to Ginny McAllister's place. It's hardly a suitable place to live in, either. I'm not of the same mind as some are in town about Ginny, since she runs a se
date, honest business — not like that Saul Cravens' place. And Ginny pays her bills on time, instead of waving them off like her father did until I had to threaten to cut off his credit. It's not her fault she got stuck with such an inappropriate lifestyle for a woman."

  "Ruth!" Sunny held up her hands in surrender. "You forget, I hardly met a single person in this town beyond you, Fred and the undertaker and preacher. Well, and Ranger Cameron. I have no idea who all these other people are you're talking about."

  "Ah, yes, Ranger Cameron," Ruth mused, her face taking on a glow. "Why, if my Fred wasn't such a wonderful man and if I were a few years younger . . ."

  The glass of lemonade she was lifting to her mouth wobbled dangerously in Sunny's hand, and she quickly set it down. Ruth's words and tone of voice had conjured up that rugged face and whiskey-colored gaze again, and she dropped her eyelids, rubbing against the image with her fingers, endeavoring to erase it. The crash of breaking glass brought her surging to her feet, grabbing at the chair behind her before it could topple over.

  "Heavens, Ruth, I'm s . . . sorry," she sputtered, seeing the broken glass amid spatters of sticky lemonade marring the shining floor. "How clumsy of me! I must have set the glass too close to the table edge. Don't worry, I'll clean it up."

  Kneeling beside the shattered glass, she reached for one jagged piece as Ruth hurried around the table, admonishing her to wait for her to help. In her chagrin, Sunny misjudged the position of the glass and uttered a sharp cry of pain when it deeply pierced her finger. Instinctively, she drew her hand back and stuck her finger in her mouth, the salty tang of blood and the sting of the wound bringing a sheen of tears to her eyes.

  "Sunny, dear," Ruth murmured as she knelt beside her. "I told you to please wait and let me help. Now you've gone and hurt your finger."

  Sunny rose and backed away a step, watching Ruth gather up the shards of glass into a towel, then carry them over to a trash can. Ruth returned with a broom and dustpan, and efficiently swept up the remaining mess. Glancing down at her finger, Sunny wrapped her other hand around it when she saw the deep red blood welling from the cut and running down her palm.

  Ruth led Sunny over to her sink and attempted to pry her hand loose to examine the cut. "Sunny, dear," she said when Sunny stared at her in bewilderment, "you've got to let me look at it. Why, it seems to be bleeding quite profusely. You must have cut it severely."

  Sunny's knees wobbled under her, forcing her to loosen her hold on the wound and grab the edge of the sink. "I . . . I . . . don't much care for the sight of blood," she managed between gritted teeth.

  "Then close your eyes," Ruth said in a logical voice. "Blood doesn't bother me that much."

  Sunny started to comply, then recalled that her closed eyes had brought about her mishap in the first place. Instead, she turned her head, offering her hand to Ruth to examine. The elderly woman murmured soothingly as she held Sunny's hand under the pump spout and worked the handle until a gush of water ran out. The pain eased beneath the cool stream of water, and when she felt Ruth wrap a piece of cloth around the wound, she chanced a glance.

  Unfortunately, she also glanced at her other hand, which was smeared with blood from holding onto the wound. Her vision swam, and her stomach surged. She swallowed desperately against the bitter taste of lemonade threatening regurgitation in the back of her throat. When she swayed, Ruth grabbed her around the waist and steered her back to the chair.

  "Here, dear," Ruth said. "Put your head down. And for pity sakes, don't look at yourself until I get you cleaned up."

  "I'm so sorry," Sunny mumbled, her voice muffled in her skirt. "I'm not usually so clumsy. I . . ."

  "Pooh, my dear. There's not a person alive who doesn't have problems facing one thing or the other. Your failing just happens to be blood. Now, you just relax, and let me take care of you."

  Feeling her stomach calm somewhat, Sunny turned her head aside, but kept her cheek pillowed on her knees while she responded to Ruth's tug on her arm. She clenched the towel in her right hand as Ruth gently washed the other one. Vaguely, she heard clumping footsteps and straightened in her chair as she realized they were climbing the stairs outside Ruth's living quarters.

  "Someone's coming, Ruth."

  "Probably Jake," Ruth replied nonchalantly. "He usually stops by around this time for a spot of coffee. He'll just have to wait a minute today."

  Sunny groaned and Ruth mistook the sound for pain, instead of the innate response to the flash of resentment crowding Sunny's mind. After all, if she hadn't been thinking of that darned ranger, she wouldn't have set the glass too close to the edge of the table and cut her finger in the resulting mess. As Ruth turned away, assuring Sunny that she would get some salve for the cut, Sunny thinned her lips in disgust at herself for having such a childish thought. She surely was too mature to blame her own clumsiness on someone who hadn't even been in the room at the time of the mishap.

  Jake walked into the kitchen without knocking, Teddy trailing at his heels. Both their faces creased in concern when they noticed Sunny clenching her towel-wrapped hand to her chest, and she again chided herself for her infantile deliberations, although she was the only one aware of them.

  Teddy hurried over to her. "Miss Sunny! Have you hurt yourself? Oh, you done gone and got blood all over your pretty dress."

  At the word blood, Sunny's head fell back to her knees so quickly the thunk of her skull hitting kneebone rebounded through the kitchen. Now she had the added pain in her head to contend with, as it swirled amidst the shooting stars behind her closed eyes. With an unstifled wail of dismay, she surged to her feet and barely made it to Ruth's sink before the lemonade spewed from her mouth, along with the breakfast she'd eaten a couple hours earlier.

  When her shoulders stopped heaving, someone laved a cool cloth across her face, and Sunny gratefully leaned against Ruth. Only it didn't feel like Ruth's comforting bosom, unless the other woman had grown several inches and firmed up quite a bit in the last few minutes. A large, steadying hand clasped her waist, and a hard object pressed against her hip on the other side of her, where Ruth's leg should be. It felt suspiciously like a gun, and Sunny willed herself to pull away when she realized the ranger had her in his embrace. Her body ignored her mind's advice, though, and sagged even closer to him, her cheek nestling against the open vee in his shirt.

  Somewhere beyond the sensual circle where she stood, Sunny could hear Ruth shushing Teddy and assuring the child it wasn't her fault Sunny had been overcome by an upset stomach. Primarily, however, she tried to fathom the rumble beneath her ear, which suddenly sounded suspiciously like laughter — or at the very least, suppressed chuckling.

  With a quick effort, she pulled back and tilted her face up in time to catch Jake transforming the slight grin on his lips to a straight line of concern. He couldn't mask the twinkle in his eyes quite as quickly, and her cheeks heated with both resentment at his amusement and humiliation that he had witnessed her shame. When she tried to pull away from him, he tightened his grasp and held onto her.

  "Easy, Sunny," he said, in the same tone he'd used to her at the funeral. "Let's make sure you're not gonna upchuck again before you sit back down. Don't worry. I'll stay right here with you."

  "That's the problem," Sunny said before she thought. Jake's raven brows lifted in what could have been inquiry or surprise, but she wasn't about to explain that stupid statement to him. Instead, she sidled away from him, digging her elbow into his stomach to silently emphasize her determination for him to release her. Her elbow felt as though it were pressing ineffectively against a thick board. However, with another muffled chuckle, he removed his arm.

  As she attempted to again steady her trembling legs, he strode over and picked up the chair, which had indeed toppled completely over this time. Within seconds he had it beside the sink and gently pushed her into it. With a sigh, she complied, then almost jumped up again when he knelt in front of her.

  "Whoa," Jake said, reaching out to hold
her in place. "You're as skittish as a new-broke mare. Just hold on for a minute, and I'll help Ruth get you taken care of. We need to see where all that blood's coming from."

  "If you'd all just quit using that word," Sunny said through clenched teeth, "I could handle this entire situation a whole lot better!"

  "What word? Oh," Jake continued with more understanding after she shot him a lethal glance. "That b word. Well, you just close your eyes, and let me look at your hand."

  "I'm not going to close my darned eyes again," Sunny fairly snarled. She shoved her towel-wrapped hand at him. "Just do whatever you have to do."

  "Probably a good idea, not closing your eyes," Jake mused as he wrapped his fingers around hers. "You might not get that one back open again for a while."

  "What do you mean?" With a horrified gasp, Sunny lifted her free hand to her face, then felt along her forehead until she encountered the puffiness above her right eye. "Oh, no! I must have hit my head harder than I thought on my knee."

  "You hit it a pretty good clunk," Jake agreed. "It's already turning a real pretty purple color. Better let me put a cold cloth on it."

  "I'd prefer you let Ruth do it."

  Just then, a pounding sounded beneath their feet, and Ruth said, "That's Fred. He hits the ceiling with a broom handle when he needs my help in the store. I really need to go, Sunny. I'll take Teddy with me. You'll be in good hands with Jake."

  Before Sunny could protest, Ruth took Teddy's hand and the two of them swept out of the kitchen. Rather than going through the door leading to the outside stairwell, however, they went deeper into Ruth's living quarters.