Flo’s nose tilted upward when Wysse pressed between them. “Ready to go, Florence?”
“I don’t believe I’ll be riding home with you, Mr. Wysse.”
Victoria saw the quiver on Joe’s lips as he choked back a smile.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” Flo waved a hand in Victoria’s direction. “Would you care to powder your nose, Victoria?”
And with that, they strutted toward the dressing rooms in the back of the building. It seemed that Flo had figured Wallace Wysse out, but if not, Victoria planned to enlighten her even if it meant Flo’s attention might be redirected to Joe.
*
Joe did his best to look anywhere but at the retreating footsteps. Wysse sucked air through his teeth in a near hiss as his eyes narrowed. “You don’t seem to be able to keep a lady’s attention, old man.”
Gazing into his cup of punch, Joe smirked at the face staring back. If that’s what Wysse wanted to think, so be it. “I guess you’re right. My unlucky evening at that. Not like you, a woman on each arm.” He made a note of switching his gaze to Wysse’s empty grasp.
Joe reached for his coat, pulled it on and nodded before Wysse could comment. He glared at him. “Thing is, I came to see my niece dance, nothing more. Good evening, old man.” Calm down. You need your job. He’s not worth it. You can’t afford to lose the job that might make you or break you in this town. Maybe Wysse would ignore the sarcasm.
“You’d better watch that mouth of yours, Huntington. You work for Wysse and Sons at my pleasure.”
And the reminder.
“I have no doubt of that. None whatsoever.” With a smile and a tip of his head, Joe walked away, but his teeth were tight as a twisted rubber band. Bad habit, sawing away at his jaw, but he couldn’t help it. Fortunately, he hadn’t been raised to act like a jerk around women, because like with the town drunk, there was only room for one in each town.
It was warm for this time of year; bone-chilling rain instead of snow drizzled over his head, cooling him down. He put his hat on, but to no avail. He’d be soaked by the time he arrived home. Dozens of others dashed to their autos, newspapers and programs sheltering their heads, but Joe relied on speed. Too little too late.
Dodging quickly, he jerked open the door to his black 1940 Chevy. A two-door. Just what he’d wanted when he came home from the war. Paid cash for it. The rubber had been good, and he’d done a wonderful job making it look almost good as used. He chuckled remembering his father’s expression. In his family, you made do with good, solid secondhand if it was available, and you put in the elbow grease to bring it back to life. And in the end, that’s all it really needed.
He would be glad to get home and into dry clothes, but as the motor coughed and kicked over, a beautiful woman dashed past the window. Victoria!
He cranked the driver’s window down as she stopped and looked around, a drenched umbrella in her hand doing its best not to turn inside out.
“Excuse me.”
She started, looked back at him. “Yes?”
“Would you like a ride?”
“Oh, no. Thank you. One of the moms will be out soon and I’ll—”
“Don’t be foolish. You’re getting soaked. What happened to your ride?”
“Flo called her folks and that left Mr. Wysse looking for a companion. I didn’t even wait to see if Suki’s mother could give me a lift. I sneaked out the back and prayed one of the moms would be ready to go. I’m embarrassed to ask, but is there room for one more?”
“More than happy to be of assistance. Hop… No, wait.” He shut off the engine and rushed around the side, hoping the car would start again. Then he opened her door and assisted her in. “There you go. Nice and dry.”
He tore around to the driver’s side and jumped back in, said a little prayer before starting it… Yes! First try.
“You look surprised, Mr. Huntington.”
“Joe. And yes, I am a bit. I rebuilt this baby and you never know when she might decide to stop and take a nap, right about the time I need ’er to start.”
“Her?”
“Well, yes.”
“So a car that contrary must be a she?”
Aha! There was the attitude he’d come to expect.
And that was not what he’d meant at all. “I just…well, seems I’ve put my big size twelve in my mouth. I didn’t mean to sound chauvinist.” Time to switch gears. And quick. “Speaking of feet, you have quite the ability with dance. You always did as I recall.” He grinned at his slick maneuver. No sense continuing to dig himself under.
“I see what you’re doing here.” A grin started on her lips, but she tamped it down quickly enough. “Nicely done, Joe. You worked that conversation much slicker than you danced. And thank you. A far cry from our days in Miss Davies’s school.” For a second she seemed to relax, not dredging up the past again. Perhaps they had managed to move beyond bad memories.
“Maybe it’s a far cry for you. I’m afraid I still trip over my own feet at times.” At times? Miss Davies’s school hadn’t helped one bit. From the dance school to his high school graduation where he had promptly clomped on Glady Hopper’s beautiful glass slippers. At least, he thought they might have been glass when the heel cracked off in front of everyone. Humiliating her and him when she and her gigantic gown splattered onto the floor.
Victoria turned and smiled. “I am very sorry for the way I treated you in dance school.”
“Just in dance school?” He returned her smile, adding a wink for good measure.
Her lips pursed, the wistful grin gone. “Well, you aren’t trying to blame me for how graduation turned out, are you?” Not as far from the bad memories as he would have liked. Her attitude revisited the conversation full force. “Really.”
Joe reminded himself it was just a few minutes’ ride to her house if he remembered correctly.
“Victoria, I don’t want to argue. That was years ago. We were kids. The fact that you wouldn’t let me explain is past, way past. Let’s start over, shall we?”
Her nose tilted. “I wouldn’t let you explain?”
“No, you wouldn’t. I called a dozen times or more to apologize, but you didn’t even take my calls. How can a man say he’s sorry if the woman won’t speak to him?”
“Mr. Huntington. I couldn’t get hold of my folks that night. I ended up going home with a young man who I thought had a stellar reputation at our school. He was kind enough to offer me a ride when you left me stranded. It turned out he wasn’t such a stellar gentleman after all.”
Lightning streaked across the sky and startled them both.
Joe slowed his auto, glanced in her direction. “I didn’t know, Victoria, honestly.”
“Apparently not, and didn’t care enough to return to drive me home.”
He pulled to the side and stopped his auto where mud caused the car to slip sideways; Joe refused to let it sidetrack him. “I did care. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“But you left me.”
“Yes, the Filmore brothers were teasing Dru Carraway, like always, and none of the other students did anything. I had danced with her and when I went to take her back to her seat, one of the boys started again, and he said… Well, better left alone. But he was most unkind to her. So she started crying, and since she had come alone, I offered to drive her home.”
Victoria’s face fell and for the first time, Joe thought he saw genuine compassion. “Joe, I didn’t know. Honestly.” Her lip trembled.
“But why didn’t you take my calls?”
“I guess I was fuming over that octopus Randy Phelps.”
“The class salutatorian? That’s who you rode home with?”
She pursed her lips. “The one and only. He stopped on a dark street going to my house and thought he was suddenly Casanova with dozens of hands all grabbing at once.”
What had made Victoria think Randy’s reputation was stellar as she’d said? All Joe’s friends knew him well enough. They had c
alled him randy Randy. But Joe didn’t smile at the memory. He’d like to pound the guy if he ever had the chance. Then a reality check. That was years ago and Randy had been a kid, as well.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. What did you end up doing?”
“I wound up my fist, pretended I had a ball in it and slugged him in the eye. Remember how that felt?” Now the grin crept over her face; whether she wanted it to or not, he couldn’t tell.
“Are you kidding?” He rubbed his face. “I can still feel it today.”
Then she laughed. A loud belly laugh for a girl. “You have no idea how my mother punished me when she found out about me pitching at your head. She about blew a fuse! I never could lie to my parents, and when she asked me, I had to tell the truth. I remember being quite defiant. ‘Yes, ma’am. I socked him in the eye but good.’ Oh, no, Joe, I have to rethink this. Between your helping Dru and not getting even after the game, you are now quite the gentleman in my book.” She gave a shake of her head. “And I never thought I’d live to say that.”
Rain had started to come down hard as Joe restarted the engine, again surprised that she started the first time. “You’d be shocked what I thought at the time. There might have been a toad or two caught to go in your mitt, but then I chickened out. Another trip to the woodshed I didn’t want. Or need.”
“A toad? I doubt you’d have been so mean.” Her smile lit up the night better than the lightning. And it was all Joe could do to keep his eyes on the road. “And I hate to be the one to tell you, but toads haven’t ever bothered me. I caught plenty as a kid.”
“Of course you did. What was I thinking?” Joe chuckled.
Victoria touched his arm and sent jolts of lightning stronger than the strikes outside through him. “Sorry I wasn’t the foo-foo little girl everyone would have liked.”
“We were kids. And we thought and behaved like kids. No harm done. And I don’t think being a tomboy hurt you one bit.” If a black eye gave him a chance with this beauty, then so be it. And she’d finally allowed him to explain, after all these years. A huge weight lifted from his shoulders at last.
When she grinned, her teeth sparkled white against the dark of the night. And those eyes. Talk about stars. He let out a breath. Not at all the young girl who had made his life so miserable before. And nothing like a tomboy anymore.
“I never noticed how blonde you were when we were younger.”
“You saw me mostly in a baseball cap. And even so, my hair was a lot lighter then. I hated it so much. With all the curls, it made me look like a girl. Even under my cap, the curls occasionally stuck out. And I wanted so much to be a boy.”
“You wanted to be a boy?” There was no mistaking it, she was very much all girl.
Her laughter filled the car. “Of course. Who wants to sit in the house learning to cook and clean when there’s fishing, hunting, climbing trees? Any-and everything outside is closer to God, don’t you think? Smelling the fresh air, enjoying the great outdoors.”
“Couldn’t you do all those things and still be a girl?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, girls aren’t exactly encouraged in those fine activities. Nothing about threading a needle inspires me. Besides, only by being a boy would I have gained my father’s approval to play professional baseball. And that’s all I wanted back then. Still would if I thought I could, but I’m more practical these days. And somewhere along the line, dancing slippers pushed ahead of my baseball mitt. Funny, isn’t it?”
“Professional ball. High aspirations.”
“Well, Dad always taught me to aim high, but he didn’t realize what direction I’d been aiming until it was too late.”
“And now?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Now I’m perfectly content to be a girl. Teaching dance. Seeing these little tykes start out with two left feet, for the most part, and learning day by day to be lovely, mature dancers is such a blessing. You have no idea. Almost as good as being a babe named Ruth.”
That was the truth. And a much prettier babe than Ruth. He wouldn’t say that, though. What an extraordinary woman she had turned out to be. “You’re right there. I have no idea about the dancing. And I’m not sure with my big clompers what that means for me. Guess it’s a good thing I became an engineer. Neither baseball nor dancing is a requirement.”
Victoria blushed and her laugh proved contagious. “But you’re a smart man. You’re right, not sure you’d be much of an asset in the dance studio. I should have asked you, are you happy at Wysse and Sons? I mean, after what I’ve experienced with the son, what’s the father like?”
“I’m not particularly happy there, but it’s a paycheck. The old man’s all right. Good egg, really. But working for them wasn’t at the top of my list.” He gripped the wheel tighter as the rain and his emotions both increased. “I should stop. I’ve never been one to tell tales out of school. In reality, I’d always thought I would come back and—”
Lightning crashed in front of them. Joe sucked back a breath and shifted his gaze from her lovely face to outside the window. “Say, you’d better be on the lookout for your street. I can barely see in this storm. We’re getting a real humdinger, wind and all.” He had to be sure she arrived home safely this time. No repeats of the night of graduation. Leaving her to go home with randy Randy. No wonder she’d been angry with him.
Victoria mirrored his expression, squinting into the darkness. “There. At the end, make a right. We’re the third house on the left.”
A lightning strike and the sound of a bomb exploding lit up the sky. Joe accelerated.
“We’re almost there!” He slowed the car and maneuvered the right-hand turn, then slammed on the brakes as they both just stared.
Chapter 4
Gazing through torrential rain, Joe didn’t know who the people—silhouetted like rounded tree stumps—were. Perhaps Victoria’s parents. The woman, arms over her head slapping at the rain, bawled. The man scratched his head, growing wetter by the second without so much as a sweater to protect him. Joe shook his head. They needed to get inside before they got hurt. A huge tree branch had split from the lightning strike and collapsed over the front of the house, blocking the door. The top had speared the family’s roof, creating a gaping hole that let the rain inside. Why were they standing there, doing nothing?
Lightning continued its assault, rain pounding the ground into a mud bath.
“Those people should be hurrying, fixing the roof. Your folks?” They stood solid as Lot’s salty wife.
Sitting deathly still herself, no doubt in shock, Victoria finally blinked…nodded. Then she rubbed the moisture from the inside of the window as if doing so might make the scene go away. “Yes, those are my parents. Oh, no.” Fear focused her gaze and she finally saw all that had happened. “And our house! That branch fell through the roof!”
“Victoria, I’m sorry.” But she burst into tears, unable to move from the passenger seat. He jumped from his seat and sprinted around to the other side of his auto. He opened the door, helped her out and pulled her into his arms. “It’ll be all right.” He wanted to believe what he was telling her. Just holding her felt right, but they were getting drenched and her parents needed to start moving. This could only get worse if they didn’t act right away.
“Look at it, Joe.” Her gaze locked on to the branch, which was dangerously close to rolling off the house. “Our home.”
“Let’s see what we can do.”
His grip tightened as she buried her head in his chest. “I can’t look anymore. My poor parents.”
Not wanting to let go, he finally held her at arm’s length and nodded. “You take your mother in through the back door and I’ll talk with your father.” Water ran in small rivers over the roof and into the opening. Was there any way to stop further damage to the house? He doubted they would get any repairmen out this late. But her father might have an idea.
“All right.” She stepped out of his grasp, and he gave her shoulders a squeez
e. “I’ll see to Mom.”
As the women headed around back, Joe entered the front yard, where Victoria’s father had the same dazed look of shock on his face. “Sir? What can I do to help?” He clapped the man on the back. “Sir? Your house.”
Her father turned slowly, his eyes watery and tired. “What’s that?”
“Your roof. We need to secure your roof, cover it, keep the water out. Keep the heat in. Let’s go. Time’s of the essence.” They had to work fast or the entire inside of the house would be ruined. Worse yet, if that branch rolled, they could lose the garage, as well.
The man shook his head, clearing it as he snapped out of his daze. He swiped water from his eyes. “Yes, of course. If you’ll follow me I have tarps in the garage. Thank you, young fella.” He thrust a hand forward even as his feet picked up speed. “Arthur Banks. Don’t know who you are. If you’re willing, follow me to the garage. I have a chain saw, but it’s a two-man operation and won’t be practical for the smaller branches holding the large one in place. If we’re careful, maybe we can free up the smaller branches with handsaws before that branch rolls off the side and does more damage.”
They were thinking along the same lines…good.
“Joseph, sir. And I’m happy to help any way I can.”
Arthur nodded and kept trudging along.
Joe slogged through the water-soaked ground to the building in the back, following in Arthur’s footsteps. Thick mud was already forming, making a patch job really dangerous. And how could the two of them roll that huge branch off the house without creating more damage? He eyed the garage a mere three feet from the house.
Mr. Banks struggled to keep his footing and pushed up the garage door. Joe noticed his hands shaking from the cold or too much energy. That or worrying about being trapped in the garage. Dark met them, but in a few seconds, Joe’s eyes adjusted.
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