When The Geese Fly North

by Dragon, Tracey L.

  “Your guess is as good as mine?”

  “Do you think we should go say thank you or invite them to our table?”

  “I don’t know, Ames. Since we haven’t really met them before, I’m not sure I want to be stuck all evening sitting with them if they turn out to be creeps. Let’s ignore ‘em. We told the waitress to thank them on our behalf. That should be enough.”

  “I suppose so. I image if they were interested, they’d have come over after we accepted the first drink.”

  “Oh, God, don’t turn around.” Fran put a hand on Amy’s arm. “Rob’s coming this way, and he’s scowling. Maybe we need to retreat to the ladies’ room.”

  Amy took a healthy swig of her rum and Coke for Dutch courage. “Over my dead body. Last thing I want is for him to think we’re running scared. Maybe he’s just headed to the bar for drinks.”

  “No such luck.” Fran dipped her head and muttered, “Brace yourself.”

  “Well, well, well, who do we have here?” Rob said loudly as he placed a hand on their table and leaned forward. “If it isn’t the little ex-wifey-poo out for a good time, instead of home taking care of my son on the farm she stole from me.”

  “I didn’t steal anything from you.” Amy jutted out her jaw mulishly. “The judge gave it to me, or I should say to your son seeing as it was evident your interests lay elsewhere.”

  Rob leaned down low, and the alcohol fumes radiating from him would have burst the room into flames if anyone lit a match. Obviously, his drinking began much earlier than his arrival at the bar which made him even more dangerous. Sensing his fury, Amy backed up her chair.

  “And just what is a little woman like you going to do with the farm? It’s spring. Have you plowed the fields yet? Bought any seed? You can’t even operate the tractor.” He sneered and his hand knotted into a threatening fist. Amy didn’t think he’d take a swing at her in public, but she knew from experience he had no qualms about doing it in private.

  Suddenly, an extremely tall figure of a man stepped beside her chair and rested his hand on its back. In boots he must have been over six three. He definitely had five inches on her ex. Scruffy jaw set, he locked eyes with Rob in the silent communication only men understand. Then he leaned down to Amy and asked, “Everything okay? Would you like another drink?”

  Realizing that this giant of a man was one of the guys from the bar who bought Fran and her drinks earlier, she ignored her fuming ex. “Thank you, I’d love one, but you shouldn’t, really. You’ve already done enough.”

  His intriguing mouth, almost hidden by a growth of whiskers, turned up at the edges. His dark eyes bore into hers briefly then he winked. “I figure I owe you since you were kind enough to hire me to work your farm through the fall.”

  Rob’s explosion turned more than a few heads. “Damn, you thieving bitch. That’s my farm.” He made to grab Amy’s arm.

  But before he had the chance, her tall rescuer neatly twisted Rob’s arm behind him and spoke low in his ear. “I’d be happy to take this outside if you would like, but if I were you I’d think twice about it. My best suggestion is you calmly head back to your table and escort your lady friend to another locale. This one feels a might bit crowded, or if you prefer I’ll be happy to personally accompany you to the exit. Either way, I think it’s time you leave. It’s your choice how you do it.”

  Locked into place, neither man said another word. Finally, Rob backed down. “Let go,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m leaving.”

  “Wise choice.” The tall man stepped away from Rob, who stiffly stalked back across the room. Amy’s protector stood put, not budging until Rob and Pauline left the bar.

  “Now,” the stormy-eyed intriguing stranger said, “would you ladies like another drink?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Amy stammered as he went back to the bar without so much as offering his name.

  “Well, what the heck?” She turned to Fran. “I’m confused. Didn’t that gentleman just come to my rescue? Yet he leaves without telling me his name.”

  “I’d say that’s exactly what he did.” Fran was grinning from ear-to-ear. “God, it was swell. From where you’re sitting you couldn’t really see, but when he”—she nodded toward the man at the bar—“twisted Rob’s arm up behind him, I thought your ex was going to pee his pants. He always acts tough, until he comes up against a real man. I don’t know who your champion is, but I’ll lay odds he’s a vet. Did you notice his limp when he left?”

  Amy turned to ponder the big man conversing with his buddy as if the incident never happened. She felt a little deflated. Obviously, whoever he was, he had no interest beyond being chivalrous. When the promised round of drinks arrived from the bar, compliments of her rescuer, she shrugged.

  “What do you think, Ames?”

  “It’s odd, that’s for sure. There’s definitely something strange about the whole situation. Why do you think they’re being unsociable? Shy? Married? Uninterested?”

  “Any or all of the above I guess.”

  Amy took a sip of the fresh drink. “Let’s forget about them and have a good time. Come on, let’s dance.”

  Chapter 4

  March 2013

  The phone rang, startling Callie who had become lost in the world of the 1940’s. Now who the hell is that? She jumped up and picked up the handset. “Hello, Henderson’s residence.”

  “You answer phones, too? I’m impressed. I thought you were just window-dressing or eye-candy.”

  “Can I help you, Dr. Henderson, or did you ring just to annoy me?”

  “That’s just a perk. I believe I left my stethoscope on the table next to my grandfather’s bed. Would you be a good little girl and run and check for me?”

  Callie almost hung up, but instead dropped the receiver onto the desk hoping it resounded loudly into the good doctor’s ear while she did his bidding. Sure enough, it was right where he said it would be. She supposed he’d be by sooner rather than later to fetch it, preferably later. Returning to the phone, she made a face into it before speaking, “I have it. It was right where you left it. Would you like me to mail it to you, or can it wait until your next visit?”

  “Actually,” he said then paused. “Could you possibly drop it by the hospital tomorrow, say around noon? I hate to wait until the weekend, and my schedule is slammed all week.”

  Callie sputtered. “You work in Rochester, right? You want me to drive all the way to the city? That will tie me up for a good part of the afternoon. I don’t like to be gone for that long in case Amy or Will need me.” And the fast traffic and noise sets me on edge, and I’m afraid I’ll have a panic attack. Not that she’d admit any of that to the supercilious idiot. “It can’t wait until this weekend?”

  Suddenly, she could hear Dr. Henderson’s name being called loudly in the background followed by the word stat.

  “Sorry, gotta run. Noon tomorrow. Thanks.”

  The click of the receiver in her ear left her fuming. She slammed the phone down into its cradle.

  “Is something wrong, my dear?” Amy interrupted her stewing.

  Tight-lipped, she turned to the elderly woman. “Nothing at all. That was just your grandson. He needs me to take his stethoscope to his office tomorrow. I told him I didn’t like to leave you and Will for that long, but you know how your grandson is . . .” She left the remark hanging to avoid being rude.

  “Oh, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine here for a few hours. It’ll do you good to get out. Maybe you can talk Michael into buying you lunch for your trouble. Once you get to know him, I bet you’ll find you have a lot in common.”

  I doubt it. “I don’t think we’ll have time for lunch. He said his schedule was slammed, but never mind that. Will should be awake from his nap by now. Why don’t I fix his snack and then you can continue telling me about when th
e two of you met.”

  After she fixed Will his afternoon decaffeinated coffee and put several of his favorite molasses cookies on a plate, she took them in to the tall elderly man who sat reclining in bed. “Did you have a nice rest?”

  Will grunted, his kind eyes lifted to meet hers. “I keep hoping to wake up to find myself running on both my god-given feet through green pastures, but instead I find myself still trapped in this tired, old, one-footed body tied to earth.”

  “Oh, hush now.” Amy sat on the side of the king-size bed and patted her husband’s age-spotted hand. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so, Will Henderson. You hear me?”

  Will harrumphed. “She always was a pint-size, bossy, little thing. Been married to her for almost seventy years, and she still orders me about. Only way I’ll get any peace is if the good Lord takes me first.”

  “And that’s not going to happen.” Amy pursed her lips and looked to Callie. “I’ve already made it abundantly clear to both Will and our God Almighty, we go together, period. No argument.”

  Will chuckled affectionately at his wife’s comment, the warmth of love still blazing in his gaze after so many years. “That’s right, my dear.” He closed his fingers around hers. “I’ve no doubt God is quivering in his boots at the thought of calling me up ahead of you.”

  “And he should be. Now you old fool, you best drink your coffee before it gets cold. I was telling Callie about the first day we met and how you’d come to my rescue at The Walsh Hotel. Now that you’re awake you can tell her your side, you do it much better than me.”

  Will took a sip of his coffee then set the mug down. “You honestly expect me to remember that far back? I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, let alone seventy years ago.”

  “Will Henderson, are you telling me you don’t remember the day we met?” Amy’s tone brooked no argument.

  “Now don’t get your knickers in a snit. I couldn’t possibly forget the first time I laid eyes on you or the second or third. It’s etched in my brain—a day that will live in infamy. Oh wait, that’s what President Roosevelt said about December seventh when the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. Well, they were quite similar in a way. Both days changed my life forever.”

  Amy rolled her eyes at him.

  “Well, let me see, it was 1948 and I had just moved to Albion and was living in a dreary basement apartment. I had gotten up early because I couldn’t sleep and hobbled on down to Ray’s Diner on Main Street and ordered my usual. Amy was late to work and had come in all flustered. She was a tiny-little thing, kind of cute with her curly, black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. She reminded me of a spaniel I once had. That’s what caught my attention—those sad puppy dog eyes.”

  “No, no, dear,” Amy interrupted Will’s storytelling. “You need to start at The Walsh Hotel when you followed us out to the car.”

  Will looked over his glasses at Amy. “Are you telling this story, or am I? I thought you wanted me to tell her about the first time we met?”

  “Well yes, but we really didn’t meet then, it wasn’t until later that evening when you offered to drive me home, remember? I’ve already told her how you came to my rescue at the hotel, and I had just reached the part where we were leaving when Michael phoned and interrupted us. So, you need to pick up from there, and then when you’re done I can tell my story.”

  Will harrumphed. “All right then, but hush and let me tell my side my way without any more interruptions, and then you can tell yours, however your little heart desires.” When he turned to Callie, his eyes held a devilish sparkle then turned darker as the memories overtook him. “It was 1948 and my buddy Travis and I were sitting at the bar at The Walsh Hotel . . .”

  Chapter 5

  March 1948

  Will and Travis stayed at the bar until almost closing. Partially because they were enjoying the band, but mostly because Will refused to leave in case the belligerent ex-husband came back. Besides with the amount of alcohol the ladies had consumed, he was pretty convinced they’d need to be driven home.

  “Ever the chivalrous one.” Travis shook his head, glancing over at the two women. “A little less chivalry and you’d still be running around on two feet and not one. Now instead of saving some dumb corporal’s ass, you’re trying to rescue a damsel in distress. You’re a slow learner, Henderson. Didn’t they teach you to duck and cover in boot camp?”

  Will ignored his buddy’s ribbing. They’d been through hell and back together as Marines, which is why he now lived in Albion, New York. He originally grew up in the Midwest but with jobs scarce Trav had encouraged him to move to his hometown after his release from the military hospital.

  Travis slid off his bar stool and nudged him. “Okay, buddy, it’s your show. I’m tired and since the little woman you’ve studiously avoided looking at or talking to all evening is getting ready to leave, perhaps it’s time you made whatever move you’ve been planning.”

  Will laid a couple of bills on the counter and picked up his cap. “Let’s go.”

  They followed the two girls out.

  “Amy,” the redhead said to her friend, “I really don’t think you should drive. You’re drunk as a skunk and can hardly stand.”

  “I’m fine.” She fumbled for her keys and then dropped them in the dark parking lot. “Damn. Can you see them, Fran?” Amy attempted to squat, but landed on her butt, giggling. “Oops.”

  “This is not funny, Ames.” Fran bent down to help search for the keys. “You can’t possibly drive, and I don’t have a license. Even if we find your keys, what are we going to do?”

  Amy broke into hysterical laughter, then put her head on her knees and began to cry. “It’s not my fault. If that bastard hadn’t come over to the table tonight and taunted me, I’d have been all right. But the truth be told, Fran, I’m scared to death. I’ve no idea how I’m going to hang onto the farm.” Her shoulders shook with great racking sobs.

  Fran knelt and wrapped her arms around her. “It will be all right, you’ll figure it out. I’ll help.”

  “How?” Amy sniffed. “You ever spread manure? Drive a tractor?”

  “No, but I guess we will have to learn. Now, how about we see if we can find the keys.”

  Will and Travis stood silently in the shadows as the girls lamented, not wanting to embarrass them with their presence during such an emotional outpouring. Catching a glimpse of the silver key-ring that slid behind the wheel of the car parked beside the girls’ truck, Will picked it up and held out the keys to the little one called Amy. “Is this what you’re searching for?”

  Startled, both girls scrambled to their feet, obviously frightened, but then seemed to relax when they recognized him.

  Amy reached for the ring, but Will folded his fingers around it and snatched his hand back. “Maybe you should let your friend drive.”

  “I’m fine,” the cute little moppet, as Will thought of her, insisted, a slight slur to her words.

  “Not to be rude, but I beg to differ. You seem a bit wobbly on your feet.” He turned toward her friend. “Can you drive?”

  Amy’s friend shook her head. “I don’t have a license.”

  His gaze shifted from one girl to the other then to his buddy. “Gee, girls, seems as though we have a dilemma here. I can’t in good conscience let either of you drive. If anything happened to you, I’d never be able to live with myself. Is there someone you can call who would be willing to come get you?”

  Amy turned to her friend. “I can’t ask my mom, she has Thomas. Do you think your mom would?”

  “She’s working the nightshift tonight.”

  Amy groaned. “Darn. I guess we can sit here in the truck for a while.”

  Trav spoke up. “I don’t think it would be very safe for you ladies to sit in a dark parking lot alone. He turned to Fran. “You se
em familiar. Aren’t you Hank Jones’s little sister? Your brother and I went to high school together. We enlisted at the same time. I’m Travis Wilson and this here”—he nodded sideways—“is Will, he’s a buddy of mine. Why don’t you let him drive you home? He’s a Marine, and I can vouch for his character. He’d give his left foot for you if he could, I swear.” A tinge of humor colored his words.

  Will ignored his friend’s wry jest and held his hands up. “I’m harmless. I would hate to see something happen to you girls.”

  “Can you give us a minute?” Fran turned to Amy and pulled her to the side, turning their backs to the guys. They began arguing between them as if the men couldn’t hear.

  “What do you think, Ames?”

  “Do we have a choice? I don’t want to sit in the parking lot until dawn. Why don’t we have them take us to the farm?”

  “Cuz, I need to go home. I have to watch my nephew early in the morning.”

  “Okay, you ride back to town with Travis, and his Marine friend can drive me to my place.”

  “Are you nuts? They’re strangers. We can’t go off with them. I think we better stick together.”

  “Pooh.” Amy hiccupped. “He’s a Marine. You saw the way he stood up to Rob for me. I’m not worried.” She hiccupped again. “Besides, Travis is a friend of your brother’s. If anything happened to you, Hank would be out for blood.”

  “Fat lot of good that would do us, we could be strangled and buried by then.”

  “There’s my doom and gloom friend again. It’ll be fine.” And before Fran could stop her, Amy turned around and said, “We’ll be happy to take you up on your kind offer of assistance, if you don’t mind. Mr. Wilson, do you think you could give Fran a ride back to Albion, and maybe your buddy here could drive me to my farm which is this side of town?”