The Secrets of Rosa Lee

by Jodi Thomas

  Both women dummied up.

  “Look,” Granger pleaded. “What if one of you fell and broke a leg?”

  They didn’t answer.

  “This is the third time I’ve caught you out where you had no business being.” He stared at them. “Empty your pockets.”

  They didn’t move.

  “Empty your pockets!”

  Beth Ann pulled out several tissues and a half-full bag of M&M’s. Ada May slowly laid a pair of wire cutters on the desk and then stared at them as if she’d never seen them before.

  “Just as I thought. You cut the barbed wire on the cemetery fence.”

  “Well, you didn’t expect us to jump over it, Granger. Honestly, what a foolish idea.” Ada May looked at him as if he were not as bright as she gave him credit for being.

  “Not only were you trespassing, you were damaging property.”

  “What property? The fence is down on the back side of the cemetery anyway and I didn’t hear any of the residents complaining.”

  A sleepy-looking Reverend Parker and an angry Randi Howard rushed through the door at the same time. Micah tried to ask questions, but the redhead stormed Granger in full attack.

  “Where do you get off arresting these two old dears, Granger? I swear, you’ve got oatmeal for brains.”

  “Now calm down, Randi.” Granger stood.

  Randi shoved a finger into his chest.

  To Billy’s surprise, the sheriff took a step back.

  “Who’s an old dear?” Ada May asked.

  “We are,” Beth Ann mumbled.

  “How can I calm down when you’ve arrested them?” Randi took the time to smile at the sisters, then turned back to Granger. “You’ve put handcuffs on them! Take those things off of them right now.”

  Billy watched as Micah stepped between the sheriff and Randi Howard. “Calm down, Randi,” he said as if he knew the bar owner. “Granger, what has happened here and what can we do to help?”

  “Help!” Randi yelled moving forward, but letting Micah hold her back with one arm. “First you get my friend pregnant and now you’re out arresting old ladies. I swear, if you don’t straighten up I’m running against you next election.”

  Granger grinned. “Now, Randi, it’s not like I tricked Meredith into sleeping with me after the prom. We’ve been married two years. And as for these two, I caught them stomping around a closed and gated cemetery in the dark carrying knives and buckets.”

  Randi and Micah both turned to the Rogers sisters.

  When neither of them said anything, Randi asked, “Is that true?”

  “Guilty as charged.” Ada May squared her shoulders. “We’ve been out saving antique roses. The sheriff will not let us do it in daylight, so we’ve gone underground.”

  “Undercover,” Beth Ann corrected. “We’re guilty, all right. We did the crime and we’ll do the time.”

  “Unbelievable.” Micah rubbed his forehead.

  “I’m willing to release them, in your custody, if they both promise not to break into any place at night again.” He thought about it a moment and decided he needed to add, “Or any other time, night or day.”

  Both sisters were silent.

  Granger waited.

  Beth Ann broke first. “If we don’t promise, do we have to spend the night in jail?”

  “Yes,” Granger answered without any hint of a smile.

  Micah opened his mouth to argue, but Granger raised his hand for the preacher to remain silent.

  “We’d need to pack overnight bags,” Ada May said, her chin shaking slightly. “And put the rose clippings in water.”

  “No bags. No water. You’ll have to sleep in your clothes and those clippings will stay in my trunk where they’re bound to dry up by morning. You’ll get what every criminal gets. One phone call. One blanket. You’ve already had your call.”

  Both women looked horrified. Billy noticed Randi and Micah had moved behind the criminals’ chairs and both were fighting to keep straight faces.

  Beth Ann looked pitiful. “Do we have to sleep in our teeth, too?”

  Granger nodded. “And without a pillow.”

  Beth Ann whispered, “I’ve heard the toilet is in the center of the cell.” Granger nodded.

  She paled and broke. “Oh, all right. I promise.”

  Ada May snorted. “Well, I can’t very well go rustling without you. You drive the getaway van.” She glared at the sheriff. “I promise.”

  Granger leaned forward and unlocked the handcuffs. “All right ladies, you can go, but I don’t want any more trouble. I need to be getting home to my wife, not driving around looking for you two.”

  They refused to speak to him as they marched out, heads held high.

  When the room was silent, Granger turned to Billy. “There’s no such thing as a typical night. Sure you still want the job?”

  “You bet.” Billy straightened, feeling a pride grow in him. “No hesitation.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Micah followed Randi Howard as she drove the Rogers sisters’ old Suburban back from Cemetery Road. He swore the thing slung mud for half a mile, causing him to wonder where else the sisters might have been tonight. He and Randi had taken the criminals home, then dropped off Randi’s car at the bar before going out to claim the sisters’ van.

  He pulled up as Randi parked in the old maids’ drive and climbed out. He studied her as she moved toward his car. A long-legged, spitfire of a woman, he thought. The sheriff must have known she’d yell at him, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it. Granger knew Randi and accepted her; it was obvious they were friends. Micah had never known a woman so full of life and energy. If she’d been a tent preacher, she’d have been hellfire-and-brimstone.

  “What you smiling at?” Randi climbed in beside him.

  “I was thinking that I’d want you on my side in a fight,” he said as she twisted his mirror and scrubbed a line of mud off her cheek.

  “You get in a lot of fights, Preacher?” She tossed her leather jacket between them and rolled down her window. The night wind caught her hair as he put the car in motion, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  When he didn’t answer her question, she leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. They drove back to her bar without a word. He pulled around back, but didn’t cut the engine.

  “I’d invite you in,” she said in her midnight voice, “but you wouldn’t come, would you?”

  The words not said seemed a wall between them. They both knew he wanted to. They both knew he wouldn’t.

  “No,” he answered. What was it about this woman that made him be so honest? It would have sounded so much better if he’d been polite. Thanked her. Claimed he was tired. Used any excuse. But what would it matter—anything else would be a lie.

  “Fair enough.” She was gone before he could even think of how to say goodbye.

  He sat for a while, trying to decide what to do. He could use a friend. A real friend. And he had a feeling whether they saw each other or not, she’d be in his thoughts. Everything about this town reminded him of her. He couldn’t run at night without circling by the bar, or eat breakfast without thinking of the steak and eggs they’d shared. A few times he’d heard someone say a word in just the way Randi, with her accent that belonged nowhere but Texas, would have said it. Micah caught himself thinking, That’s how Randi would have put it. But he couldn’t voice his observation because no one knew they were friends.

  He gripped the wheel. It was time he admitted, at least to himself, that he was attracted to her. He knew he’d never do anything about it, but being honest helped. Just knowing a woman existed in this world whom he might be attracted to if they spent time together made him realize he had to go on living.

  As he threw the car in gear, he spotted her jacket folded next to him. He cut the engine and picked it up. He’d go in and give it back to her, then leave. Who knows, he thought, maybe they’d talk a few minutes and get back to that easy kidding they’d had before
. He wouldn’t say he’d call or come by, she wouldn’t offer again, but they’d be more comfortable if fate, or the Rogers sisters, tossed them together again.

  He climbed out of the car and headed for the back door. Reaching up, he flipped the latch above the rear entrance and stepped inside, guessing she’d see the light and know someone was coming in from the back door.

  The kitchen was empty when he walked down the hallway and he saw no light coming from upstairs. He crossed to her office. All the lights were still on and music played, but no one was there. When he looked through the glass, only the twinkle lights greeted him in the empty bar beyond the one-way mirror. He smiled, remembering the days he’d worked in a place like this. There was nothing quite as lonely as a bar after closing time.

  He walked around the desk planning to drape her coat over the office chair when he saw her through the glass. For a moment he could only stare at the view through the mirror.

  Randi moved across the tiny dance floor, dancing alone. Her arms were raised, as if she had an invisible partner guiding her around. Her steps were wide, bold as she circled, lost in the rhythm of an old country-western tune.

  Something bumped against the wall near the hallway leading back to the kitchen. The bearded bartender Randi called Frankie banged his way in with a load of boxes.

  Micah didn’t know what to say. He nodded once toward the man.

  “Evenin’.” Frankie sat the load down. “That’s it from the basement,” he mumbled more to himself than Micah. “Tell Randi everything’s locked up and I’m heading home.”

  Micah turned back to the mirror wondering why Frankie hadn’t bothered to ask why he stood in Randi’s office. Maybe Randi had told him where she had gone earlier. Maybe Frankie figured she trusted him. Maybe a man hanging around after closing wasn’t all that unusual.

  Micah didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to watch her for a minute. “She’s something, dancing like that.”

  Frankie moved a step closer to the mirror and joined Micah. “She does that sometimes, dances all alone. Before her husband died, she used to wear out half the cowboys in the place dancing with them. Her Jimmy wasn’t much of a dancer, but he liked to watch her move. Since he died, I haven’t seen her dance any way but like that. All alone. Like she’s dancing with a ghost.”

  Micah couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Frankie’s footsteps sounded in the hallway, then the back door closed. Micah thought of what Lora had said about Rosa Lee waiting all her life to live and he realized that was what most people in the world do. They wait until they’re older, richer, thinner—whatever—before they step out.

  But not Randi. She’d dance even if she had to do it alone.

  He placed her jacket on the desk and pushed through the swinging door. She didn’t see him until he’d lifted the pass-through and stood at the edge of the dance floor.

  Slowly, she lowered her arms. “You forget something?”

  Micah smiled. “I thought I’d come back for a dance.”

  She smiled. “I’m surprised you two-step, Preacher.”

  “I don’t. You’ll have to teach me.” He offered his hand.

  She laughed. “You’re either the dumbest man I ever met, or the smartest. I can’t figure out which. All right, I’ll give you the five-minute lesson.”

  Twenty minutes later she swore he must be brain-dead. He couldn’t seem to get the idea that the two-step only had two steps. “I don’t even want to try a waltz with you. My feet would never live through the lesson.”

  Then she laughed softly against his ear and they tried again.

  When, finally, they were too tired to dance, they made breakfast and talked. He told her about the people at the church, the ones he loved, the ones who drove him crazy. He told her things he’d never told anyone about how he sometimes felt in his job. How he loved the teaching and never saw himself taking over the running of a church.

  They drifted easily from dreams and hopes to a listing of their day as if they’d talked a thousand times.

  After Micah had filled her in on the committee meeting, Randi told of the legends and stories of Clifton Creek. He listened carefully to the details about Henry Altman and his daughter Rosa Lee.

  Finally, he told her about the decision the committee would have to make. It felt so good to talk to someone about it.

  She had her own ideas about who might be causing trouble. She named a few of the oil companies, a group of wild kids who sometimes destroyed things around town, and to Micah’s surprise, she mentioned an old rancher named Luther Oates. Luther and Henry Altman had been best of friends even though Luther was younger.

  “Wouldn’t a friend want the house to stand?” Micah asked.

  “Probably,” she said as she sat, her legs crossed under her. “But talk is some of the founding fathers had strong ideals back in the early years of Clifton Creek. Men who were leaders, men like Talon Graham’s great-grandfather and Henry Altman were rumored to be linked to a murder, but no one could prove it.”

  “Really?”

  Randi laughed. “I wouldn’t be pulling your leg, Preacher. You might want to start dancing again.”

  Micah laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Well, thanks for listening to me rattle on.”

  “Anytime.”

  They both stood. She followed him to the back door and they said good-night without either of them realizing how little of the night was left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Billy spread his bedroll on the back porch of Rosa Lee’s house and slid inside. The night would probably be over before he could sleep. “You’re not going to believe what happened, Miss Altman,” he said into the shadows as if she were listening just on the other side. “The sheriff asked me if I wanted a job. Imagine that. Me.”

  He laid his head on his hands and looked out at the night. “Now that it’s happened, I can see he’s been watching me for a long time.” Billy felt like a fool for talking to himself, but he had to tell someone, even a ghost. No one would see it, but Billy felt like he and Miss Rosa Lee were a lot alike. She didn’t have much family. Folks didn’t include her. She was a loner, living out here in this house all by herself.

  He grinned. If he’d lived back years ago, he bet they would have been friends. She’d probably have him over to dinner or maybe they’d set on the porch and have lemonade. She couldn’t have been a bad sort. After all, she gave Sam Davis a drink and Billy would bet a week’s pay the man had been as much of a pain as a kid as he was now as an old man.

  Maybe, if they’d known each other, he would have fixed up some of the things Rosa Lee let fall down. It was obvious no one had taken care of this place for years. Even the trellises for the roses looked as if she’d built them herself. The roof sagged in one place, most of the gutters were down, and vines must be growing into the mortar on all sides of the house.

  Yes, sir. They’d have been friends. They would have talked.

  Dried leaves rattled. Billy sat up listening. He’d protect her place now, he thought. It’s something friends do.

  The leaves rustled again. Billy stood on stockinged feet and moved to the corner of the porch where no one would see him. For October, the night wasn’t particularly cold, at least not sheltered on the porch, out of the wind, but there was a dampness to the air that made it seem colder.

  “Billy?” came a whisper. “Billy Hatcher? You here?”

  “Lora?” He relaxed. “What are you doing out here?” He moved to the edge of the porch where she stood in the pale moonlight. She looked as if she’d just left a party. High heels, short black dress, little jacket made of material that was almost see-through.

  She shrugged. “Seems like this place draws me after dark.” She laughed. “Maybe I’m a vampire here to suck your blood.”

  She didn’t quite carry off her casual air. Something was wrong, he could hear it in her voice, see it in the way she moved.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  She
took a long breath and said, “Mind if I come in and sit down? I kind of need a friend right now.”

  He could smell the alcohol on her breath as he offered his hand. “Watch out for the second step. It’s about to give way.”

  “If I broke the board, cut my leg and had to have it amputated, that would be on par with the evening for me.” She stomped onto the second step. “Of course, then I could buy shoes at half price. My budget could use the break. Panty hose might be a problem.”

  He laughed as she continued to imagine life with one leg while they crossed to where his bedroll had been spread in the moonlight at the far end of the porch.

  They sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag. Her face was in shadow, but he would almost bet she’d been crying. She tugged off her shoe, tried to pull her skirt down, then gave up and hugged her knees.

  Billy grabbed his jacket and leaned forward to put it around her. “You okay, Whitman?”

  “Yeah, just a little shaken. I’ve had a rough night. I had to walk from the interstate.” She tossed her other shoe a few feet away. “When I passed here, I thought you might be sleeping on the porch keeping an eye on the place. I decided to stop by and get warm before walking the rest of the way home.”

  “Start from the beginning. Car trouble?” He found that hard to believe since her daddy ran the dealership, but maybe it was a case of the cobbler’s children having no shoes.

  She shook her head. “More like cowboy trouble. I think I’ve just had the worst date of my life.”

  Billy lay down a few feet away and waited. He figured she’d tell him all she wanted him to know. Even if she didn’t tell him anything, it felt good to know that she came to him to talk. For as long as he could remember, he’d been thought of as the town drunk’s kid and no one his age offered even casual friendship. He almost told her that the reason he watched her all those years ago was that she had never been rude to him. In his world, not being picked on by someone was a real plus. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she’d even smiled at him once when he’d held a door for all the cheerleaders.