When The Geese Fly North

by Dragon, Tracey L.

  Amy’s hopeful expression quickly dimmed. “I wish I could take you up on the offer, but it wouldn’t be possible.”

  Not one to give up easily, Will prompted, “Because . . .?”

  “For one, you are a stranger, and I can’t just let anyone live in my house. I have my son’s welfare to be concerned with.”

  “I understand, and I wasn’t proposing I move into your home with you. I thought perhaps I could bunk in the barn.”

  “In that old place, ee-ew. I’m not sure it’s fit for a beast, let alone a man.”

  “I’ve slept in worse during the war. With a little fixing up, it would be fine. I’m not fussy. A blanket, a cot, and a roof over my head, and I’m good.”

  She didn’t respond immediately, her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. “Even if it were an option . . .” She paused as if considering her words. “It still won’t work. I don’t have enough money to purchase the amount of seed needed for spring planting. I’m barely making ends meet from my divorce settlement. That’s why I’m working weekends at Ray’s.”

  Will was expecting her answer and had already prepared his volley round. “I rather thought perhaps we could form a partnership of sorts.”

  “Partnership? How do you mean?”

  “I have a small military pension and a little savings, not a lot, but I would be willing to use it to help purchase seed for the spring planting in return for room and board until the crops are in. You can pay me back from the harvest money and a small percentage of the profit. After which, I’ll move on, and hopefully, you’ll have enough to get through the winter and be able to hire a new man come spring.”

  Amy turned into the crowded lot behind the diner, parked the truck, and shifted in her seat, her expression puzzled. “Why would you want to do that? You don’t even know me.”

  Will studied the petite brunette sitting next to him thinking how best to respond to her question. Because if I don’t get out of the dingy basement I’m living in, I’m going to blow my brains out. That thought wasn’t likely to get him the job, so he shrugged. “Without a job, I have way too much time on my hands. It felt good this morning waking up and seeing the fields.” He smiled ruefully. “When I was eighteen, I couldn’t wait to leave my parents’ farm, so I enlisted to see the world . . . Anyway, I wouldn’t mind the change of scenery.” He clamped his mouth shut and left it at that.

  Amy tilted her head toward him. “It would certainly solve my problem, but I still don’t know you well enough to feel comfortable with it.”

  He shrugged. “Your choice.” Then he opened the truck door, climbed out, and closed it behind him. He bent and stuck his head through the rolled-down window. “The question you need to ask yourself is . . . If you interviewed someone else to work for you, would he be any less a stranger?” He threw her a cock-eyed grin. “We already have history.” Then he limped off around the corner without so much as a by your leave.

  Chapter 8

  Frazzled, Amy slipped off her apron and clocked out of work. Although her shift had only been five hours, it felt like ten. Everything in her body ached. She certainly learned her lesson. No more over indulging on her nights out, not when she had work the next day. She needed to pick up Thomas from her mom’s shortly, but she hoped to catch Fran before she did. Her conversation with Will had replayed itself in her mind a hundred times or more. She tried to convince herself it was a foolish idea, but once the seed had been planted it grew with possibilities.

  Fran was sitting on the porch watching her nephew play with his toys when Amy drove up. She bounded up the steps and plopped down next to her. “How was your day?”

  “I’d say from the sight of you, better than yours.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Death warmed over. I’d say the rum and Cokes got the better of you.”

  “That, my ex, and one difficult Marine.”

  “At least one of the three sounds interesting, what happened with the Marine? I presume you mean Will Henderson.”

  “One and the same. To tell you the truth, it’s the damnedest thing.”

  “What?”

  “He offered to come work the farm for me.”

  “Really, why? I wouldn’t have guessed him the farm-boy type.”

  “Actually, surprisingly enough he is. Said he grew up on a farm in the Midwest and sort of missed it.”

  “Can you afford to hire help?”

  “No, but that’s the beauty of it. When I admitted I couldn’t pay him, he said he’d work for room and board until the crops came in.”

  “You mean stay in your house? That would scandalize the whole town.”

  “Of course not, I have Thomas’s welfare to be concerned with which is exactly what I told him.”

  “And . . .?”

  “That’s when he offered to stay in the barn.”

  “In that raggedy old building? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “That’s what I thought at first myself, but he said he slept in worst places during the war, and he’d be perfectly content as long as he had a blanket, a cot, and a roof over his head. And get this, he offered to buy the seed for planting using some of his pension money with the stipulation he’d be paid back from the profits.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense? You’re a stranger to him. Why would he want to do that? Where’s he living now?”

  “In town somewhere but wants to move. He misses living in the country. He didn’t talk much about himself except to say without a job he had too much time on his hands and needed something to do. Said he’d leave in the fall. Hopefully, there’ll be enough profit from the crops, and I can hire someone again next spring. What do you think?”

  “Gosh, Ames, that seems kind of risky to me. You don’t even know the guy. And to let him live on your farm . . .” Fran whistled between her pursed lips. “Why can’t he come and work during the day and then leave at night?”

  Amy shrugged. “I didn’t think to ask. He brought it up on the way into town, and I was too stunned by the suggestion to really process it before we reached the diner and he got out and limped off.”

  “He sounds a little odd to me. Maybe more than his leg got screwed up during the war. His offer seems too good to be true which usually means it’s a bad idea.”

  “I know. Believe me I get it, and that’s what I kept telling myself all day. But in the end, all I could think of was how it would solve my problem. If I don’t take him up on his offer, I’ll probably lose the farm. Then what will I do?”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Amy nodded. “Rob and I put most of what we had saved into buying the farm. We hoped to work it this year to help pay the mortgage on it.”

  “You could sell it and move back with your mom. Don’t you think that would be a whole lot easier?”

  Amy sighed. “Believe me, I thought about it, but I’m not a young girl anymore. Those days are gone, and I have to keep Thomas’s welfare in mind.”

  “You’re not that ancient. Someday you’ll meet a terrific guy and want to remarry.”

  “Not in a million years. Once was enough.”

  Fran snorted at that remark. “But still, I come back to the fact he’s a virtual stranger to you. He could be nuts.”

  Amy made a face at Fran. “Don’t be pessimistic. Besides, when you think about it, how much would I really know about any man I hired except what he tells me? It’s not as though I’d know whether or not he was being honest.”

  Fran rolled her eyes at her. “You ask for references you dunce, and then you contact them to find out whether the person would be a good employee.”

  “I’m not as feather-headed as you think, honestly. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk with you. I figure the guy’s not local, except for maybe the last couple of years. He was obviously sta
tioned overseas. I imagine it would be difficult to verify anything he told me anyway. Since you spoke with his buddy last night, I hoped that maybe you gleaned some information from him I didn’t already have. Perhaps where he lives, or how I can get a hold of him.”

  Fran shook her head. “Nah, Travis didn’t say a whole lot about Will except the guy had a savior complex and was too good for his own shoes. He mentioned Will had a passel of ribbons for heroism, including a purple heart and a bronze star. He said his friend was slow to duck and cover and was always saving someone’s ass.”

  “Okay, there you go. What more do I need? He’s a hero. I did, however, get the feeling for a brief moment this morning that he may have some deep emotional wounds hidden under his rough facade. In his case, I think still waters run deep, and perhaps he’s in need of a little solitude.”

  “Could be, but before you make up your mind, let me ask my brother Hank to speak with Travis Wilson and see if he can get a better feel for the guy. If Hank says he’s solid, then I’d say do what you must if you’re sure it’s your only choice. Although your mom will have a cow when she finds you have a strange man living on your property, let alone what your ex will say.”

  “Those conversations are better left for a later date after the deed is already done. Although I must admit, I’d feel better having another man around when Rob comes to see Thomas. You’ve seen how volatile he can be.”

  Fran’s eyes lit with amusement. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall the first time Rob shows up and finds Will driving his tractor. Fireworks, no TNT required. Maybe you should put in a call to the police department ahead of time, or better yet the local hospital. There’s likely to be blood involved.”

  “Well, should I do it?”

  “I guess the question is can you afford not to? But before you decide anything, let me check with my brother first. I’ll call if Hank has anything new to add. Promise me you’ll wait until you hear from me.”

  “I promise, and thanks for the ear and for checking into Henderson for me. You’re the best.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  She gave Fran a hug. “I gotta run and get Thomas, then it’s off to the farm. Call me if you hear anything.”

  Amy didn’t mention Will to her mom. That was one discussion she’d put off until later. Thomas was cranky when she arrived, so she refused her mother’s invitation for dinner and drove home. She intended to put Thomas to bed early, then take a long soak in the tub and call it a night. Hopefully, she’d feel better come morning.

  Amy struggled all the following week with Will’s suggestion and waited anxiously for Fran to call. She managed to get a small plot dug behind the house to plant a vegetable garden, but the whole time she was digging she kept eyeing the bleak barn trying to imagine someone living there. Finally, she decided if Mr. Henderson came to work for her, she couldn’t possibly in good conscious move him in there without cleaning it first.

  With hair wrapped in a kerchief and wearing an old pair of overalls, she set out with a broom and two buckets of hot water to see if she could make the tack room more habitable. After knocking down the spider webs, she brushed down the walls and swept the floor before tackling everything with hot water and Pine-Sol. She washed the windows inside and out. When the scrubbing was completed, the old barn at least felt clean but still appeared awfully depressing. In her eyes, it needed a coat of paint.

  She dug around and found a couple of cans left from when she and Rob had moved in and redecorated several rooms in the house. Since there wasn’t enough of either color to cover all the wall space, she dumped the blue and yellow cans together to create an interesting shade of green.

  Oh dear. Then she shrugged. It was better than nothing. It took her an afternoon to finish the painting, and another to put up curtains and sew together a small braided rag rug for the floor. Not bad, she thought, as she stood back to examine her handiwork. Tomorrow she could bring the small table and chair from the spare bedroom in case Will needed furniture.

  When Friday night came she began to get anxious over the fact she’d not heard from her friend all week. She gave in and rang her up.

  “Hey Fran, this is Ames. I wanted to ask if you’d found out anything new from your brother about Will Henderson.”

  “Yeah, I was going to call you. I’m afraid I don’t have much more to add. Hank spoke with Travis, but said he wasn’t forthcoming about Will’s personal life except to say kind of what we already knew.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “Only that Travis said he considered Will a brother, and he’d trust him with his life—had in fact had it saved on more than one occasion by Will at considerable risk to his own. He said that Will was a stand-up guy, none better.”

  “I guess I can’t ask for a better recommendation. Hank didn’t perchance find out how I can get in touch with him, did he?”

  “Travis wouldn’t give out any personal information. Said it wasn’t his to share. He did, however, tell Hank that Will often ate at Ray’s Diner. You said you thought you saw him there last week.”

  “Maybe. There was a big guy sitting at the lunch counter Saturday morning, but Madge served him. I was late and flustered when I arrived so I didn’t pay much attention to the customers unless I waited on them. If he was there, he must have left soon after my shift started because I don’t have a clear recollection of him.”

  “You’re working tomorrow and Sunday. Maybe he’ll come in and you’ll get a chance to talk with him then.”

  “Let’s hope. Now that I’ve made up my mind to do this I want to get it over with before he changes his because I have no idea what I will do if he does. My stomach’s in knots.”

  “With any luck, he’ll be there tomorrow, and I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”

  “If I see him I’ll stop by your place after work and tell you about it.”

  Amy hung up and went to bed where she tossed and turned all night. Come morning she felt veritably cross. Will Henderson had best show up at Ray’s today, or she’d hunt him down. The town wasn’t that big. She ought to be able to find out where he lived.

  She entered Ray’s through the back entrance and tied on a clean apron. With considerable relief she spotted Will’s tall figure seated at the counter drinking coffee and reading the paper. Since Madge was waiting on a table, Amy slipped behind the counter and picked up the coffee pot. Holding it over Will’s cup, she asked, “More?”

  He glanced up, his hooded eyes locked with hers, and his mouth ticked up on the side in a semblance of a smile. “Bout time you showed up.”

  Chapter 9

  Will took a sip of his coffee then flipped the page of the Orleans Republican-American newspaper, briefly noting the headlines. The Soviets were not pleased with the extension of the Marshall Plan to Germany and had begun restricting western military and passenger traffic between the American, British, and French occupation zones and Berlin. Not good, Will thought to himself and turned the page.

  He frowned at how much prices had risen since the War’s end. A loaf of bread now cost fourteen cents and a gallon of gas sixteen—even if he had a vehicle, he’d be hard pressed to fill its tank.

  Will was just about to drink the last of his coffee and leave, when Amy arrived with a fresh pot in hand. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when the chocolate-brown eyes of the little moppet pouring his coffee, turned dark and glared at him. He slid back on his stool afraid she’d dump the whole contents of the steaming pot over his head.

  “What’s with you? Are you incognito or hiding from Uncle Sam? You’re a little difficult to get a hold of if a girl had a mind to, that is.”

  “And did you?”

  “What?”

  “Have a mind to?” Will couldn’t resist yanking her chain. He got such a kick out of it. She bowed up like a ba
nty rooster ready to fend off an attack.

  She glared at him and puckered her lips as if she’d swallowed a slice of bitter lemon. “I might have been considering it, but now . . .”

  Will knew when to throw in the towel before he pressed his luck. Obviously, she’d been considering his proposal. He didn’t want to scare her off. He needed to get out of his basement quarters before he killed himself. “Have you thought about what I suggested?”

  She nodded, her expression displaying her anxiety over the decision.

  No doubt she felt as if she had her back to the wall, and he was the worst of two evils. He grimaced.

  “And . . .?”

  “If your offer is still good . . .” She swallowed. “I’ll take you up on the partnership, but only until the fall you understand. We will square everything then, and you’ll have to find someplace else to live after that.”

  “Done.” Will stuck his hand over the counter, and she stared at it as if he wielded a knife. When she slipped her small hand in his, he could feel a tiny tremor as he closed his fingers around hers and shook. He clamped down on his softening heart. This was only business. His wounded soul couldn’t handle more. Voice gruff, he said, “It’ll be fine. You needn’t worry. How about you tally up my bill, and I’ll get out of here and start making arrangements.”

  She wrote up his bill and collected his money. “Mr. Henderson . . .” She gazed up at him, her eyes luminous. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Will hobbled out of Ray’s without his heart. He’d left it puddled on the floor in front the register. Dumb ass, I forgot to duck and cover again.

  Will managed to get a hold of Travis and within a few hours they’d loaded his few belongings from his basement apartment into Trav’s truck. The next stop was to purchase seed and with any luck a few chickens. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford a cow. His mind ran through the list of supplies he knew he’d need for the rudiments of a small farm. He’d get what he could afford, and the rest would have to wait until his next pension check came in.