A Gentle Rain

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A Gentle Rain Page 15

by Deborah Smith


  I admit it: I wanted one so bad.

  Glen drove his shiny black Hummer into the ranch yard that Sunday as I was helping Mac lift Joey out of my truck and into Joey's wheelchair after church in Fountain Springs. Since my crew included Methodist, Baptist and Other we rotated among the local churches every week.

  I didn't much believe in religion, but Joey liked the singing. Possum had a habit of crawling under a pew whenever any preacher ranted about Hell and the End Times, but other than that, we fit in, and the congregations were kind to us.

  Karen went along, but she acted like a scientist taking notes on a lost tribe. She sang, she even performed some harp music on request, but she didn't pray. Neither did I, so we stole looks at each other during the bowed-head parts.

  I put on my only dark suit and real gator boots but refused to wear a tie. She looked good in her Sunday best, even though that meant just a clean white t-shirt, some kind of Bombay peasant skirt, and hiking sandals. She painted her toenails with clear, glossy polish on Sundays. I noticed.

  Back at the ranch, Lily dragged Karen by the hand. "That's Glen," Lily whispered to her. "He's not Satan. Miriam just calls him that."

  "He smells like perfume," Joey said. "He makes me wheeze."

  "I'm c-c-coming, G-Glen," Mac called as he finished settling Joey in the wheelchair. He headed off toward Glen like a big, pet dog. His stutter always got worse around his brother. Everybody could see he was eager to please Glen and that Glen was eager to take advantage of the fact.

  "Hello, baby brother," Glen said sternly, staring at Karen while he slid his sunglasses onto the Hummer's dash and shut the door. Glen had already phoned me to ask about the stranger who'd taken up residence in Lily and Mac's trailer. I'd told him Karen was `good people' and not to worry. But Glen was never convinced about anybody's goodness but his own.

  I glanced at Karen and saw her staring back at him. Naw, not just starin'. The look in her blue eyes could have scroll-sawed Glen's outline from sheet metal. "You got a problem?" I asked. "You ain't even met him, yet. Wait 'til you get to know him before you give him the stink eye."

  "I've heard quite enough to conclude that he manipulates Mac and patronizes Lily."

  "Well, yeah, Glen ain't one of my favorite people, but he's Mac kin. So be nice."

  "Is that an order, `Boss?"'

  Eee-uw, she had a nasty way with titles. I gave her the stink eye. "Smile when you call me that." I pushed Joey to the house, leaving Karen on her own. My first mistake.

  "Ben, come quick," Roy said at the kitchen door. "Estrela's taken a bite out of Glen."

  Me, Joey, Miriam, Lula, Possum, Cheech and Bigfoot were at the table eating homemade whole wheat cookies with organic raisins. The scent was like oatmeal and butter mixed with grape jelly.

  Every Sunday Karen left such concoctions in a crockery urn on one counter, to tempt me. Joey loved `em and so did Mr. Darcy, who gripped Joey's left shoulder with his gnarly black claws and leaned forward like an electric-blue crane to lift cookie pieces from his hand.

  "Everybody stay put," I ordered. "And save me a cookie." I ran to the horse barn. Glen sat on a stool near the tack room, holding a bloody paper towel over one golf tanned forearm. Mac and Lily hovered nearby, holding out more paper towels. Karen watched from atop Estrela's back, in the ring. Estrela now consented to wear a bridle and saddle. The mare didn't look remorseful, and neither did Karen.

  "Lemme see, Glen." He lifted the paper towel. My gut relaxed. "Aw, she just scraped you. We'll plaster some antiseptic on it and a square of gauze. You should see the divots she took out of the cows."

  "That mare is vicious, and she-" he pointed furiously at Karen -"deliberately encouraged the mare to snap at me."

  "N-no," Mac said urgently, shaking his head. "It w-was an a-aaccident."

  Lily wrung her hands. "Karen was just trying to show you how she taught Estrela to step sideways next to the fence. It's called horse dancing."

  "Lily, don't babble at me. I'm really not in the mood for your nonsense."

  Mac's face darkened. "D-d-don't t-t-talk to L-Lily like t-t-that."

  "Calm down," I said, angling between the brothers.

  Glen glared at me. "That mare is a liability. She's dangerous. Someone could be injured by her and sue for damages. Since Mac is part-owner, he'd be an easy target. And since I hold power of attorney over his financial affairs, I'd be responsible, too. I didn't approve when you helped Mac and Lily purchase this animal, and now I want the animal sold."

  "No, not my poor baby!" Lily cried. Mac put an arm around her shoulders. "G-Glen, we c-c-can't "

  "I insist."

  I held up a hand. "I got twenty dollars in this mare, which gives me some say-so. I'll take responsibility for the twenty percent of her that bites."

  "That's not good enough." He strode to the ring, continuing to point at Karen. "I want her gone, too."

  "No!" Lily sobbed.

  Mac shook his head. "N-No, Glen, it's n-n-not the 1-1-1-ittle girl's f-fault."

  "She's not a `little girl,' she's a stranger with a suspiciously vague background. Who may very well be trying to ingratiate herself into the lives of a Tolbert heir. You've done some research on my baby brother, haven't you, `little girl?' Just conveniently discovering that the Tolbert family is worth millions. Making my brother an easy mark for a smart con artist."

  I clamped a hand on Glen's shoulder. "You're gonna take a walls out of this barn right now, or I'm gonna drag you."

  "Don't you threaten me, Ben. I respect you and what you do here, you know that, but I'll pull my brother off this place if I feel you're no longer managing his life with his best interests at heart-"

  "Look out." From the corner of my eye I saw a flash of gray. I shoved Glen back just as Estrela crashed into the rail with her head craned and ears flat. Her teeth snapped thin air where his head had been. The sound made my blood cold.

  I pivoted and looked up at Karen in flat-out disbelief. She backed the mare up neatly. She didn't bat an eyelash. The mare hadn't attacked Glen on her own. Karen'd set Estrela onto Glen like a trainer siccing a guard dog.

  Glen had the good smarts to keep quiet and look dumbstruck. Karen gazed down at him coolly. "Estrela's instincts regarding human nature are excellent. She's seen through your facade and pegged you as the self serving, smug, arrogant hypocrite that you are. As for me, Mr. Tolbert, I have no evil designs on the Tolbert money. And unlike you, I have nothing but your brother's best interests at heart."

  Glen was still speechless. But I wasn't. She'd pulled a stupid stunt that could have really hurt somebody, plus causing me, Mac and Lily a shit load of trouble. "Get that mare away from here and don't come back 'til I say to," I ordered between gritted teeth.

  She gaped at me like I'd betrayed her. "You're serious?"

  "Goddammit, you had no cause to do what you just did. Go. Git."

  She looked wounded, then stony. She gave me a curt nod, then wheeled Estrela and loped across the ring. They went out a gate and disappeared into the bright sunshine.

  "Gone," Glen said. "She and the mare. Gone. No discussion."

  "This ain't your ranch, Glen, and you don't call the shots. I'll handle the problem."

  "I'll remove my brother from this ranch if I have to. I will not take `No,' for an answer-"

  "N-No," Mac said loudly. "No."

  He stepped forward, with Lily clutched in one arm, her crying and nodding, him about to cry, too, but grim, too. His jaw was set in a way I'd never seen before. "No," Mac repeated. "Karen s-stays. Estrela s-stays. And me a-and L-Lily s-stay, t-too." He softened a little, but just a tad. "Please, G-Glen."

  I don't know what flummoxed Glen more-being bitten by the mare, being tongue-whipped by Karen, or being told what-for by the baby brother who'd always done exactly as Glen told him to, before.

  "Cool off," I told Glen. "You better go home and think about this awhile, and then you and me can talk."

  "This is not the end of this discussion."
r />   "Yeah. That's too much to hope for."

  He walked out. Mac looked after him mournfully, but didn't follow.

  After Glen left, I rode out to find Karen and Estrela.

  I found `em along a back trail in the shady creek flats. Karen sat with her legs over the side of a low cypress stump. Cypress gives the Florida creeks their dark stain, hiding all the wild eyes of snake and fish and such under water the color of coffee.

  A family of turtles, each one the size of a dinner plate, sunned themselves on the opposite shore. Estrela, tied nearby, nibbled leaves from a shrub. A Cracker horse can live off greenery that'd give most horses the colic.

  I tossed my geld'ing's reins over a tree limb then hunkered beside Karen. She looked up at me from under her eyelashes. She must use mascara or something. A redhead with thick brown lashes. I thought about her face a lot.

  "First of all," I drawled, twining a bit of muscadine vine between my fingers, "I apologize for my language back in the barn. You took me and God unawares."

  She nodded, then turned her gaze to the creek. Neutral territory. "And I apologize for encouraging Estrela to snap Glen Tolbert's head off at the thorax. A pointless attack. He's like some kind ofvoracious, invasive insect. He'd probably just grow another."

  "When I think that through I'll ... aw, whatever."

  She looked at me again, all worried blue eyes and sincerity. She made my heart sink and other parts rise. "Why are you so concerned about his opinion?"

  "He's a jerk but he's the only back-up I've got."

  "How did you ever get him to let Mac live here?"

  "It started at Talaseega. I'd just bought the ranch. Me and Joey were scouting stock. Joey didn't need a wheelchair, then. He was roaming around, talkie' baby talk to some yearlings. I was busy doin' business and lost track of him for a few minutes. Some rough of boys started teasil' him about ... about beil' a retard. Made him cry. Next second, they went flyin'. Mac tossed `em. Lily put her arms around Joey and comforted him. Like takes care of like."

  "So that's how you met Mac and Lily."

  "Yep. Mac was still liven' at the Tolbert home place-they got a fancy farm, `River Bluff,' you know, in their own town. Tolbert. The town's named after `em. Lily was living there, too, but they treated her like a servant. Glen had other fish to fry. He wanted Mac and Lily out of sight and out of mind. It was just good timing."

  "Why won't he let them at least get married?"

  "He says Lily's not good enough to be a Tolbert."

  Her eyes flashed. "The bastard."

  I couldn't figure her out. So much passion on behalf of people she hadn't known but a little while. Unless ... aw, hell. I clamped a hand on her arm. "You don't have to tell me anything but what you want to. But it's clear to me you got a personal stake in Mac and Lily's story."

  She stared at me. "Clear? In what way?"

  "Somebody in your family. You have kin who aren't quite ... right. Enough said?"

  She was trembling under my hand. Her eyes went wet-blue. She struggled, looked away, swallowed. "Yes. Enough said."

  I didn't want to take my hand off her bare forearm, but I made myself do it. "Awright. That explains a lot."

  She swallowed again. "So you met Mac and Lily at the auction and you befriended them in return for their defense of Joey. And one thing led to another and you hired them to work here on your ranch. You rescued them."

  "Well, now, I wouldn't call it-"

  "You rescued them. You made it possible for them to live together with relative dignity and independence for the first time in their lives, as a loving couple."

  "Mac was good with livestock and Lily had a heart of gold, so I hired `em, yeah. I swore to Glen I'd do right by `em."

  "He's a despicable hypocrite."

  "Yeah, well."

  She scrubbed her hands over her eyes. Took a deep breath. "And the others-Cheech, Bigfoot, Possum, Roy and Dale-how did you come to hire them?"

  "People heard I hired the handicapped. People came to me. Family, social workers, friends. Sayin' `Can you help this one or that one?' It just grew from there. I never meant it to be this way. I didn't set out to do anything noble. I can't take credit for something that just happened."

  "Yes, you can. To quote Cervantes, `Dios que da la llaga, da la medicina,' meaning-"

  "God gives you the hurt, but also the fix for it."

  She stared at me. "Yes." She looked away. "As Cervantes was saying ... God handed you a challenge here, but also the solution for it. You've done something marvelous, here. Something few people would have attempted. It's a huge responsibility, to give a home and a livelihood to people whom others often consider unfit and marginal."

  "I don't give a damn how other people see `em. They earn their way. They got their problems, yeah, but-"

  She laid a hand on my arm. "I'm complimenting you, Ben."

  I sat back a little, and sighed. "I get tired, and then I feel guilty for wishing I didn't have to play mama and daddy to `em."

  "I'm sorry I made things harder, today. But I despise Glen Tolbert."

  "Look, Glen Tolbert ain't Mr. Congeniality, awright? He's rich, and rich people tend to think they should always get their own way-"

  "Not everyone who's rich is a selfish and greedy soul."

  "I agree. But ... look, how'd we get off the subject of Glen Tolbert? You got to be nice to him. Hear me?"

  She got to her earth-sandaled feet. "I have tofu marinating. I need to get back." She went to Estrela and nimbly climbed up. The mare wouldn't tolerate a heavy western saddle; Possum, with his feel for things that made animals feel nervous and cramped, had helped Karen pick a light saddle from the tack room, something we used on young stock just getting accustomed to gear.

  Karen had wisely anchored the saddle to a wide cotton breast band across the mare's thick chest. When you strap yourself atop a rocket, you want to make sure you don't slide backwards when the rocket takes off

  She took up the loop of rein she'd woven from some cotton rope. Utility reins on a western split-ear bridle with a sissy English snaffle bit. Huh.

  "Meanwhile, back at the ranch," she said.

  Then she nudged the mare with her heels, and the mare flew.

  Flew. Like a bolt of lightning. Like a ball out of a cannon. Splaying sand and palmetto fronds over me and my gelding like we were standing too close to a lawn mower.

  What most people don't know is that there are fast horses, and then there are horses that start fast. Your Thoroughbreds-the breed that runs in the Kentucky Derby and such-they're long-legged distance runners. Nothing can beat `em at a mile or more. But your Quarter Horses-the breed of big-assed, bulldog-jawed cattle horses that came out of Texas in the eighteen hundreds-they can out-sprint any horse on four legs. They're unbeatable in the first quarter mile, which is how they got their name. Estrela had a quarter horse's zero-to-sixty-in-five-seconds start. And then some.

  I wiped sand off my face, swung aboard my gelding, then him and me tried to catch Karen and the mare.

  We couldn't.

  Some men feel belittled if they can't best a woman in a horse race.

  Me? I thought, She's one fine, fast Cracker.

  And the mare, too.

  Kara

  That night, in the small, daisy-enhanced dining nook of her and Mac's trailer, Lily and I shared a pitcher of peach-flavored iced tea and my homemade cookies. Mac dozed on the living room's flowery couch in front of a baseball game. Mr. Darcy dozed on his shoulder.

  I touched Lily's freckled arm. "I apologize for ruining your visit with Mac's brother."

  She shook her head. "Because of you, Mac told him No. That's the first time, ever."

  "What would happen if you and Mac told him `No,' more often?"

  Her face crumpled. "He'd take Mac away."

  "Ssssh, don't cry, I'm sorry." I stroked her arm. "That won't happen. It simply won't."

  She wiped her eyes, reached down to the floor beside her knees and retrieved a rumpled, brown-paper
grocery bag. From it she extracted a childlike scrapbook, its cover plastered with daisies. Lily smoothed a hand over the aging decoupage. "It's not as pretty as Miriam and Lula's scrapbooks."

  "You mean the ones they've made with pictures of Ben and Joey's mother in her mermaid costumes?"

  "Yes."

  Joey adored those scrapbooks. He looked at them at least once a week. "Well, those are nice scrapbooks, indeed, but I'm sure yours is lovely, too. May I see it? What's the theme of it?"

  "I don't know. What's a 'theme?"'

  I opened the cover and slowly looked through the pages. Pasted on them were clippings from bride magazines. The fashions and advertising styles began with a yellowing vignette of a 1970s bride and groom smiling beneath a disco ball and ended with a crisp clipping of a twenty-first century bride and groom smiling as they listened to their dual iPods.

  "Someday," Lily said wistfully, "Mac and I will get married."

  I shut the book slowly, then cupped her hand in mine. "Yes, you will. I promise you."

  "You're so sweet. But you can't make Glen change his mind."

  "We'll see about that. Lily, please don't be upset by this question, but. . when you and Mac were younger, did you ever want to have children?"

  Her eyes froze. She searched my face. I tried desperately to read her mind. Was I seeing her fear at the idea of confessing they'd given a baby away, or her horror at the thought of giving birth? She pulled her hand from mine and looked away, frowning. "No. We couldn't have babies. That would have been wrong, for people like us to have babies. Wrong."

  "Lily, does Glen tell you to say that?"

  Her eyes went wide. "No! It's the truth. I don't talk about babies! I don't want to!" She gathered her scrapbook quickly, put it in the grocery bag, then, crying, grabbed my hand and lifted it to her cheek. "But if we ever did have a baby, I'd wish it was just like you."

  She hurried, limping and crying, to the bedroom, and shut the door behind her.

  "Sedge, I'm sorry, I know it's after midnight here, but I had to call."

  "My dear, Malcolm and I are in Cairo. Having lunch. Don't fret. What's the problem?"

 

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