When The Geese Fly North

by Dragon, Tracey L.

  As if reading her thoughts, Michael stood and picked up his cup and plate. “I best head back to the city, but if you change your mind on that roll in the proverbial hay, you know how to reach me.” He stepped into the kitchen then called back through the screen door. “I’ll see myself out.”

  You do that . . .

  Later that evening after dinner, Callie rejoined Amy and Will who insisted they continue their story.

  “Let me see,” Amy said, “where did I leave off?”

  “You discovered that Will had an ex fiancée.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Amy patted her husband’s hand. “I remember now. I’d confronted you about what’s her name.”

  “Cindy,” Will added.

  “Oh, hush now. We don’t mention that woman’s name in this house.”

  Will grinned at Callie. “It’s been over sixty years, and she’s still jealous.”

  Amy harrumphed. “Irked, is more like it. That, that foolish girl rejected my Will the way she did. Anyhow, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I had just learned about what’s her name.” Amy scrunched up her nose at her husband when she said it. “And I was not happy about it at all.”

  “You can say that again.” Will chuckled. “She made me pay for a whole week.”

  “Oh hush, I’m telling this . . .”

  Chapter 33

  June 1948

  Five days had passed since Amy asked Will about Cindy. She had no right to be angry with him, but she somehow felt betrayed, and wasn’t sure how much she believed what he said. Their conversations at meal time were limited to the weather and the crops, with a great deal of silence thrown in.

  Every morning Will left early on the tractor returning only to eat his meals before heading right back out to the fields. Amy worried he’d have a relapse of his illness with the long hours he worked but made no move to interfere. He was a big boy, she reminded herself and certainly didn’t need her telling him what to do, but try as she might she couldn’t diminish either her feelings for Will or her reservations about him.

  Fran had called and urged her to clear the air with Will but Amy ignored her.

  “Momma.” Thomas glanced up from the truck he rolled around on the porch. “I miss Mr. Will. He don’t play with me no more.”

  She sighed at her son’s words. “He’s very busy right now.”

  Thomas’s eyes turned dark with sorrow. “Is he going to leave like my daddy did?” His bottom lip trembled.

  Amy set down the bowl of peas she’d been shelling and lifted her son onto her lap. Anguish filled her heart at his words. Right then and there she made up her mind that if she had anything to say about it, Will wouldn’t be going anywhere. She’d best guard her heart and keep her distance where he was concerned. Hopefully, there were no more stones to be dropped. “Mr. Will came to work the farm for us, honey. Once the crops are in he will be leaving to go to his own home. The barn will be too cold for him to stay in during the winter.”

  “But why can’t he stay in the house, like he did when he was sick?”

  “He just can’t. He has his own mommy and daddy who miss him, and he needs to visit them.”

  “Oh,” Thomas said, then began rolling his truck back and forth while studiously worrying the thumb of his right hand, a habit he’d recently given up.

  That evening instead of placing Will’s meal on the porch for him to retrieve, she poured two glasses of lemonade and waited for him to come up from the barn. She knew he’d been giving her space and she appreciated that, but after her son’s concern she knew it was time to take the bull by the horns and let Will explain. She’d reviewed her past behavior and to be honest with herself except for the time in the barn when he’d been acting in anger after the fight, he had never made any overt moves in her direction that indicated he had feelings for her beyond that of a partner. He’d made every attempt to keep a wall up between them. She’d been the one trying to knock it down, to break through his reserve, but the truth be told regardless of her feelings one way or the other she couldn’t afford to let Will go or to replace him.

  “Amy?”

  Will’s voice startled her from her musings, and she almost burst out laughing when she glanced in his direction. His head and clothes were covered with dirt except the lower half of his face where he must have tied a handkerchief around it. She handed him a glass of the lemonade and bit her lip to keep from grinning at his filthy image.

  “Thanks.” He took the glass, upended it, and finished it quickly before setting it down on the table. “I needed that. The wind has been blowing dust in my face all afternoon.”

  “Gee, I couldn’t tell. By your appearance, I’d say you need more than a glass of lemonade. Why don’t you grab some clean clothes and wash up while I fix our plates. It’s a nice evening, thought we could sit outside and eat, maybe talk a bit, clear the air so to speak.”

  Will’s wary blue eyes surrounded by grime met and held hers for a mere second before he gazed out over the yard. “I expect it’s about time.” He nodded and with his jaw set firmly made his way back to the barn, dread evident in the slump of his shoulders and the slowness of his gait.

  Amy fixed them each a plate of chicken, macaroni salad, and green beans while Will cleaned up. She’d fed Thomas earlier and shooed him out into the yard to play with the dogs allowing Will and her an opportunity to talk over dinner without big pitchers listening in. The way her stomach twitched, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat. She’d rather talk and be done with it first.

  She doubted Will would agree. Finally, Will stepped out on the porch and seated her at the table. “Smells good, I’m starved.”

  Neither said a word while they ate, the uncomfortable silence making it hard for Amy to swallow. Giving up the ghost, she laid her fork down on her plate and met Will’s troubled eyes. “I didn’t give you an opportunity to tell your side of the story, but I think maybe I’m ready to listen now.”

  Will swallowed then cleared his throat. “What exactly would you like to know?”

  Amy locked eyes with him then shook her head. “How long were you engaged?”

  “Three years.”

  “Three years. That’s fairly long. What happened?”

  Will shrugged. “You know, what usually happens with war-time engagements.”

  “If I knew, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we? How about you just tell me?” she snapped, angry and exasperated by his evasiveness. “What? She catch you running around on her?”

  Will’s fork clanked against the plate where he dropped it as he clambered up and stood with his hands tightly gripping the back of his chair. “Is that what you really think of me?”

  Amy tensed as the big Marine hovered over the table. “I’m not sure what to think. Until a few days ago, I thought, well, I thought . . . oh, never mind what I thought. The point is I don’t really know you at all.”

  “And you’re not the only one who feels that way.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. How can you possibly know me when I don’t even know who I am anymore?” he growled. “The Will Henderson I knew got lost somewhere on that damn battlefield where he left his foot, many a good friend, and obtained both physical and mental scars that he’s yet to come to terms with. I’ve lost my career, my identity, and a fiancée, who by the way I doubt ever loved me. So, if my working here depends on who the real Will Henderson is then we are both in a world of hurt.” He glared at her. “You best tell me now if you want me to leave or finish the job I started?”

  Amy grappled with his words, but his actions spoke volumes. They reminded her of the night in the barn when she’d asked him what happened to his leg, and he snarled at her like a wounded bear with his paw caught in a trap. She quickly backped
aled. The scars he bore on the outside were evidently minor to the ones he carried inside. Although the outer ones had healed, perhaps the inner ones were still raw. She swallowed. “No, I don’t want you to leave. We made a deal, and I expect you to keep to your side of the bargain as I will mine. Now that we have things out in the open we won’t have any unrealistic expectations of each other. You’ll stay on until harvest when we will settle up, and then you’ll be free to leave. We’re still partners until fall, right?”

  Will seemed to assess her words then nodded. “Partners.”

  Chapter 34

  July rolled in and Travis dropped by to see what plans he and Amy had made for the Fourth of July, but Will had been too busy to give it much thought.

  “Fran suggested we get together and have a cookout then later ride into town to watch the fireworks.”

  “What did Amy say? I’m not sure I can take a day off from the fields.”

  “Fran cleared it with Amy before I left town. Guess she hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet. Amy told Fran you were running yourself ragged but refused to slow down. I couldn’t agree with her more. You looked better after Iwo Jima. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Will said, tight-lipped. “There’s a hell of a lot of work to be done and with no extra hands, I can’t afford a day off.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Can’t afford to pay you,” Will replied.

  Travis punched him in the arm. “Did anyone ever tell you, you’re a bloody ass. I wouldn’t accept a cent from you if you offered. Now, I’ll see you on Friday afternoon with your party clothes on, and I’ll be back on Saturday and Sunday to help you catch up from your afternoon off.”

  Before he could respond, Trav turned and strode off.

  Will rose early on the Fourth and spent several hours in the fields before returning to help Amy prepare for the cookout. He cleaned the grill and hammered a couple of stakes into the ground to go with the old horseshoes he’d found in the barn. He wasn’t sure yet how he felt about entertaining guests with Amy even if they were only their friends. They had managed to steer clear of each other since he’d stormed off the porch. She would fix him an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee for breakfast which he would take with him on the tractor in the morning, along with a sack lunch. That way he didn’t have to return at noontime. There was no time to waste during the long summer hours on a farm. There would be plenty of time to sit around come winter.

  The slamming of doors and the greetings of hello reached Will from the backyard where he’d lit a fire in the grill. A few moments later, Travis popped out the backdoor of the kitchen carrying a tray of food Amy must have given him. He set it down on the picnic table then handed Will a cold beer.

  “Take a load off, ole man. Give the leg a rest.”

  Will stirred the fire one more time then swung a leg over the bench seat taking a swig of the beer as he did. “God, I needed this.” He took another swallow. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until I stopped an hour ago. Reminds me of our long marches where we kept our heads down and trudged one foot in front of the other not wanting to glance ahead lest we see how far we’d yet to go.”

  “Never thought I’d say I missed those days, but yet . . .” Trav fell silent as if choosing his next words carefully. “You ever miss The Corps?”

  Will gazed off across the yard. “Yeah, sometimes. If I hadn’t been injured I’d have stayed in. I had a sense of belonging there—a purpose. I knew who I was and what was expected of me. Now . . .” He shrugged and fell silent.

  “I get it. It’s difficult being a civilian again. I miss the comradery, the brotherhood.”

  “Nothing’s keeping you from re-upping.”

  “I thought about it, but with the war over all the armed services are reducing their forces. Even if I got in, not sure I want to end up guarding a gate. It would be a bit anticlimactic. Besides, what would I do without my best bud at my side?”

  “Probably get your damn head shot off.”

  Trav chuckled then fell silent before asking, “You still have nightmares?”

  Will nodded. “Haven’t slept through the night since before the war. You?”

  Trav frowned. “Some. Not as many as I used to. It’s getting better. It will for you too.”

  “God, I hope so.” His next words were cut off as Fran and Amy came out of the house carrying trays of food and to his surprise Amy handed him another beer.

  “What?” she said, correctly reading his astonished expression. “It’s a party, and you boys need to liven up out here. You are entirely too serious.”

  “Come on.” Fran picked up the pair of horseshoes. “Amy’s mom and mine are here preparing the food. They sent us outside to entertain you boys. Now . . .” She held up the iron shoes. “Are you brave enough to take us on?”

  Will grinned and Travis chuckled.

  “What?” Fran put her hands on her waist. “You don’t think we can beat you guys?”

  “The teams might be more even if Amy and Will play you and me,” Travis made the mistake of saying.

  “Would you like to wager on that?”

  Travis raised a brow at Will. “What did you have in mind?”

  “The losers have to clean up the kitchen before we leave for town,” Amy volunteered.

  “Not a problem.” Travis rose with a cocky grin and moved to the farther post. “Come on, Will, let’s get this over quickly so we can eat. I’m starving.”

  Will made his way to Trav’s side with far less confidence then his friend. The girls’ smirking left him wondering what they knew that Trav and he didn’t. Travis insisted the girls start.

  Amy threw first and landed one leaner and one ringer, scoring five points.

  Trav threw two leaners leaving the guys a point behind.

  When Fran tossed two ringers bringing the score to eleven, Will chuckled. They’d been hoisted with their own petard. These girls tossed like pros.

  Will followed Fran’s ringers with two of his own, leaving the guys one point under and the sinking feeling he and Trav would be washing dishes tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time they got stuck with K.P. duty.

  Travis’s bleak expression said it all as his next two shoes fell short.

  With only a few more tosses, the game ended in the girls’ favor. The ladies crowed with delight and offered to give them lessons. Evidently Amy and Fran had competed yearly in the local fair’s horseshoe competition and had several ribbons to their claim.

  With the firepit ready, they stopped pitching when the older women brought the prepared meat from the kitchen. Travis took over the grilling after Thomas, who had just woken from his nap, charged Will’s legs, bringing him to one knee where he remained, tickling the giggling boy. As soon as Thomas cried uncle, the two set off for the barn to get the pups. After dinner, the adults played several more rounds of horseshoes then drove to town to watch the fireworks. After their return to the farmhouse, Will carried a sleeping Thomas to his room, and when he turned to leave, Amy touched his arm sending a frisson of electricity up it. He backed up a step.

  Amy snatched her hand back and glanced at him apologetically then squared her shoulders. “It’s been such a fun day I hate to see it end. It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve laughed without a care, and with work being nonstop it was really nice to take a break. I’ve a bottle of sherry in the cupboard, and I think there is another beer or two in the icebox. I was wondering . . .” She rubbed her hands along the sides of her thighs. “Um.” She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if you’d join me for a nightcap on the porch. There’s a nice breeze out tonight, and it’s probably cooler there then in the house.”

  Definitely not. Will opened his mouth to decline, but the hopeful expression in Amy’s puppy dog eyes forestalled him from saying no. Today wa
s the first time she’d made any overture of friendship since she found out about Cindy, and perhaps he should bend a little too. The fact she offered him alcohol was itself significant—a sign of trust. It would be nice if they could get back to a friendlier footing. Sure, Henderson, keep telling yourself that and you might actually buy into it. He nodded and made his way back downstairs.

  “Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want on your way out. I’ll be down shortly.”

  Will grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and took a bottle opener from the drawer to pop the cap. He took a long cold sip then made his way to a chair on the front porch. He was being an idiot he knew. The best course of action was to hightail it to the barn. Even though he had nothing to offer and a lot of soul searching before he would consider it if he did, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend time with this non-confrontational Amy. He’d just need to keep his baser instincts in check.

  The creaking of the screen door alerted him to her presence. She held a glass of sherry in her hand and was as cute as a button in her shortalls. The short overalls showed off her slender legs and trim ankles. He thought she might be a little tipsy from the alcohol she’d consumed throughout the day. She bonelessly plopped down in the chair next to him, stared up at the stars, and exhaled.

  He smiled. It was good to see her relax. Most of the time he spent with her she seemed a bundle of tightly wound energy. “That was a mighty big sigh, there,” he commented.