As he strode in, he tossed a small plastic bag filled with a pale, buff-colored powder on the desk. The moment Geneva’s eyes landed on it, she froze, reviewing a few seconds of her past life. She saw herself falling on the curb outside her apartment in DC, felt the soft cardboard cylinder give way under her knee, saw fine grains of baby formula meant for the dying kitten spilling out over the sidewalk. She saw herself desperately scooping formula into the little plastic ziplock bag and rushing into her apartment.
“Let ‘im, go,” ordered the sheriff in a rumbling bass. “Soon’s he paid his fine fer speedin’. This ain’t nothin’.”
The deputy eased out of his chair. “What is it?” he asked.
Geneva turned to Howard, hoping she could distract him from hearing the answer.
“Milk,” snorted the sheriff.
“Howard, isn’t that nice? He said you could go!”
“Milk?” cried Howard and the deputy simultaneously.
“Why in the hell are you carryin’ around milk in little plastic bags?” the deputy queried Howard.
“Oh, I’m so glad that’s settled. Howard, you can go right on home now! No need to stay here another minute.” Geneva rushed over to his cell, rattling at the bars while she spoke, “Sir, could you let him out now? It’s a pity he has to stay here another minute! I told you he was a nice fellow. Are those the keys? Here, Howard, I’ll help you get everything together. Ha, what a silly thing. Why on earth did you have milk in your car?”
“Beats me,” said Howard tersely. “And I wonder if you know something about it, you being a new aunt and all.”
Geneva gasped. “Me? Heaven’s no! You know Rachel is nursing those babies—my goodness, we haven’t even had baby formula in the house!” An idea struck her. “You know what I bet? I bet the workers putting that car together did this as a trick! Oh, isn’t that funny! Putting dried milk into a car so somebody will think it’s cocaine! Boy, Howard, they really got a good one on you!” She burst into laughter, laughter that consumed her so completely that she had to sit down, laughter so contagious that the two big lawmen joined her, snorting and wheezing, slapping their knees.
“They sure did, son!” chortled the sheriff. “Milk!”
Howard failed to see the humor. Rigidly, he turned to his jailers. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to let me out now, sirs. I am already late, and I have a long way to go.”
“Sure, sure,” chuckled the deputy. “But don’t go exceedin’ the speed limit. Somebody might pick you up and find oregano on you.” Another gale of laughter erupted from the lawmen. Howard smiled poisonously. Geneva kept her face artificially bright.
“How much does he owe you, sirs?” she asked. “Was he going very fast?”
“Yes ma’am, but I tell ye what. We won’t charge ‘im the whole fine, seein’s how he had to spend the day in jail fer no reason. I reckon we could let him git outta here with around, oh—.” The sheriff looked at the deputy then out the window at the fine sports car. He sucked his teeth while he considered, “Oh, mebe three hunnert.” He spat on the floor.
Howard surged forward, outraged, but Geneva stopped him with the lightest of touches on his chest. “Whew! He must have been going some fast to get that kind of fine, but guess we all have to pay our dues when we do wrong. Howard, I’ll be happy to loan you three hundred dollars, if you need it.” She glanced at his face, which was pale but with two red spots high in his cheeks.
“Thank you, Geneva. I think I may have that much on me, although I appreciate the offer.” Geneva prayed he would stay in control while he paid his fine and completed the paperwork before he could be released. After he had collected his belongings, he walked out of the door without bothering to tell her good-bye, and stepped into the Jaguar, now covered with road dust. She stood in the doorway of the jail house, watching him drive off, wondering if she would ever see him again; but before he turned to the corner, he called to her, his eyes dark with wrath. “I’ll be back, Geneva. You’ve had your fun, but you won’t forget me.” He disappeared into a darkening hill.
Trembling, Geneva approached Rachel’s car. Jimmy Lee sat in the front seat with the dog she had stepped over earlier spilling out of his lap.
“Lamentations!” she cried, just now recognizing the mongrel. Lamentations gave her a brief glance and a tail wag, or rather, a rear-end wag, for his tail, once bent and broken, was now completely gone. The stump was red and slightly swollen. Geneva suspected that it had suffered mightily when Jimmy Lee was arrested. Lamentations turned his big, adoring eyes back to Jimmy Lee. His tongue lapped out quickly on the young man’s chin, then he laid his head on Jimmy Lee’s chest, never letting his gaze fall from his master’s face. Jimmy Lee looked at Geneva with a remarkably similar expression.
“Where can I take you, Jimmy Lee? Do you want me to drive you back home?”
“Oh, Lord God, no, Miss Geneva! Hit’s way too late fer that! I got kin all over up here, and my truck’s here. If ye’d jist run me on over to my cousin’s house, jist about five mile down this here road, I’d be obliged to ye.”
“You got kin here? Why didn’t they come get you out of jail?”
“Haw, thar warn’t no need. They jist keep me til I sober up—they allus let me go when I’m ready.”
“You do this often, Jimmy Lee?”
“‘Bout once ever three months.” His demeanor changed to sheepishness. “My cousins is a bad influence.”
“I expect they are, Jimmy Lee.” Geneva remembered how bad an influence his cousin Howard Knight could be as well. “You got some cousins here making moonshine, while Howard is over at Swallowtail Gap growing marijuana.”
“Who? Chap?” asked Jimmy Lee, confused. “Marywana?”
“Hemp, Jimmy Lee.”
He scratched his head and scrunched up his nose. “Chap don’t grow no hemp. Mammaw does some, for Pappaw’s eyes, but that’s all. Who tole ye that?”
“He did,” replied Geneva tartly.
“Haw. Well, he don’t. But I’m danged surprised he said that. He don’t never lie to nobody, ‘cept sometimes when he gits around stuck up town folks and tells ‘em that to kindly shake ‘em up. I cain’t believe he’d tell you that lie, Miss Geneva. Why, he likes you!”
“You mean, Howard—Chap—goes around telling some people that he grows hemp just to impress them?”
“Only when he thanks thera snickerin’ at ‘im fer bein’ a hillbilly. You know, snooty folks.”
“I see,” mused Geneva, stung that Howard Knight would deem her snooty. She thought she had camouflaged it better than that. “So what does he do?”
At this, Jimmy Lee fell quiet, and he shifted uneasily. At length he said carefully, “Well, he does a buncha thangs. Farms mostly. Sells timber.”
He obviously was lying, although he had seemed to be truthful about the marijuana. Silently, she wondered what Jimmy Lee knew about Howard that he did not want to divulge. She thought about cajoling the truth from him, but when she turned her seductive smile upon him to do just that, his face became so transformed by his infatuation that she decided she had better leave it alone. Jimmy Lee could be a problem. And she already had enough problems.
She altered her smile into a less intimate expression. “Where do your cousins live, Jimmy Lee? I should hurry if I’m going to get back home tonight.”
She arrived back at Rachel’s darkened house well after midnight, but Rachel rose when she heard Geneva come in.
“What happened?” she wanted to know.
Geneva told her the story, detouring to her culpability in the affair when she got to the part about the lab analysis of Howard’s “cocaine.” She and Rachel laughed so loudly that Wayne got up to join them in the living room.
“Poor fool,” Wayne said, shaking his head. “Are you ever going to tell him the truth?”
Both Geneva and Rachel looked aghast. “Are you kidding, Wayne?” Geneva burst out. “Tell him! What do you think I am?”
Rachel screamed with laughter. “A
liar!” she choked out, tears streaming down her face.
“But a good one!” assented Geneva, holding her stomach.
Rachel silenced them. “Hush. Is that somebody crying? “Oh, yes,” she added, suddenly pressing her palms against her nipples. Feeding time, and here I go squirting milk.” She hurried upstairs and returned a moment later with one infant. “Just Genny, the pig. Lenora’s still snoozing.”
She settled into the rocking chair to feed Genny while Wayne turned out the lights and brought Rachel a glass of water. Geneva yawned. “I guess I’d better get to bed. Hard Knight’s getting here early to take me up to Swallowtail Gap to get my car.”
“Oh, Geneva, I forgot to tell you,” interjected Rachel. “Wayne’s dad has decided his eyes are too bad to drive up here, so Wayne’s going to take a few days off and we’re taking the children to Charlottesville. His mother’s been dying to see the babies, and she was so disappointed about Dad’s not being able to drive that she begged us to come on over. We’re leaving tomorrow. Want to join us for a few days in the big city? Uncle Henry said he’d take care of everything here while we’re gone.”
Geneva considered. It would be nice to have the house to herself for a few days, but since John would be gone to his conference, it would be lonely. But then, she really didn’t know Wayne’s parents well enough to spend several days at their house. She sighed. “I guess not. I could use a vacation from this brood, and to tell the truth, now that I’m getting my car back, I really should run over to DC and try to clear things up with Howard. Anyway, I’d like to see what it feels like there before I try to think about what I’m going to do with my life. I should check on my apartment, too.”
“Okay, sweetie, if you really want to. But keep a good head on your shoulders, and I’d avoid Hutterton if I were you!”
“Goodnight, big sister,” smiled Geneva. “Goodnight Wayne. I’m beat, and I guess tomorrow could be a big day. May have to bail out Hard Knight for illicit drugs.”
“Goodnight, Geneva,” they echoed, grinning wickedly.
She left them there in the darkness as they bent their heads, smiling upon their new daughter.
Nine
The sun insulted Geneva’s eyes. She rolled over, grumbling, feeling tired and vaguely achy all over. Her throat hurt, too, but she forced herself to rise, then took some aspirin, for she was determined not to put off going with Howard Knight to get her car. The late night and a little cold coming on would not cause her to be less than friendly toward him again, she resolved.
He arrived early, before Geneva had finished breakfast. Wayne had left before dawn for his rounds, so Howard filled in at his place at the kitchen table with the women and children, and later sipped coffee while Geneva washed the dishes and packed diapers for the family’s visit to Wayne’s parents’ house.
To finish her own packing, Rachel set the girls at the table with crayons and put the babies in a portable crib. Lenora curled up peacefully, sucking her thumb, but Genny, vocal as usual, bellowed for someone to pick her up.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Genny. Settle down for just a minute while I get this table cleared,” complained Geneva. “What a little loudmouth you are!”
Rising from his seat, Howard scooped Genny out of her infant seat, then settled down again, elbows resting on his thighs, with the baby’s head cradled in his hands, her body reclining down the length of his forearms. His action surprised Geneva. Never had she ever seen a grown man voluntarily pick up a newborn that was not his own, and she knew that Howard himself was childless. But he seemed perfectly comfortable, smiling into the baby’s face as if he had raised a brood already.
“Hey there, yew little bitty thing,” he sang in a high, crooning voice, his head bent close to Genny’s. “What chew squallin’ for? Huh?” He jiggled his legs slightly to rock her. “Yew better quit yer squallin’, now. Yer mammy and yer aunt Geneva’s got their work to do.”
Hannah and Phoebe clambered down from their chairs to crowd around Howard and peer at their baby sister. Genny quieted. Geneva was so taken aback by the scene that she spoke up, almost embarrassed, “Looks like you’ve got yourself some girl friends, Howard. But just wait until they all get going at once. They can make quite a racket.” Sighing, grateful she was only the aunt, she added, “Can you imagine being the mother of four small children?”
Howard’s eyes gazed deeply into the child’s face. “I wish I was their daddy,” he said wistfully, then he jiggled his legs again and murmured nonsense to Genny.
It took an hour for everyone to get Rachel’s car loaded. “I’m late,” she said breathlessly, pushing the children into the car. “Wayne’s expecting me by now, and I bet it will take me at least forty-five minutes to get to the hospital. He’ll be frantic. Bye. Love you. Have a good trip. See you Saturday or Sunday—or whenever!” she called, tearing out of the driveway.
As soon as they were settled in Howard’s truck and headed out on their own excursion, Geneva felt the expected awkward silence descend. It was the first time they had been alone together since the night in the barn, and she hoped she could find a way to apologize to him. He was the first to break the silence. “Jimmy Lee tells me yew saved his neck again yisterdy. Tracked him all the way over to Hutterton jist to bail him out of jail.” He gave Geneva a slow, sideways smile, not making direct eye contact.
Geneva appreciated his desire to put her at ease; she wanted very much to return the favor, perhaps even to make up to him all the trouble she had caused him. Her contrite heart told her she had wronged him with every word she had spoken to him, and now it was time to drop all her façades.
“Jimmy Lee just happened to stumble into a larger drama,” she began, then launched into the whole saga of Howard Graves and his rescue, including the part about why Howard had come in the first place, and why the baby formula was found in his fancy car. She did her best to make the story funny, adding her observation about the fat sheriff and the details on her own machinations. Fluttering her eyelids, she drawled, “But sheriff, he’s a good man, and his daddy’s a judge!”
Howard Knight laughed so hard he nearly lost control of the truck, and at one point, he actually pulled off the road so he could lean his head against the steering wheel and give himself over completely to hysteria. Geneva felt she had redeemed herself.
“And poor Jimmy Lee is standing there, without a clue. I don’t know how he thought I had found out about his predicament. Then I go out to the car, and he’s sitting in the front seat, with Lamentations just lying all over him, looking at him with these big mooning eyes, wagging that mutilated stump!”
“Oh, Jimmy Lee!” laughed Howard. “He’s got himself a big problem. I guess I oughta warn ye, he’s set his cap fer yew. But the poor fool awready has himself a girlfriend, outweighs him by fifty pounds, and she’ll have his hide if she hears about him runnin’ after yew!” He ran his fingers quickly through his hair. “Poor man. He’s a good soul, but he ain’t got a lick of sense. She’ll chew up his hide good.”
By the time they reached Swallowtail Gap, Geneva and Howard were good friends. She braced herself for the sight of his home, determined not to embarrass him by being haughty when she saw either a trailer resting on cinder blocks or a rickety shack leaning into the mountain. But she was surprised to find a cozy log cabin, newly built, tucked into a neat yard, surrounded by a deep forest. Her pretty little Mazda, sparkling clean and newly waxed, was parked under a spreading oak. The picture was charming. Inside the house, there was a clean, modern kitchen built for the convenience of someone who lived in a wheel chair, with low counters and more cabinets below than above. Geneva hid her puzzlement over the seeming prosperity of the place.
He introduced his father, the occupant of the wheel chair. Jesse was a small, gentle man with Ike’s blue eyes and Lenora’s energy. The three of them chatted for a while; Geneva appreciated Jesse’s eagerness to please his company. He offered her food and drink, he smiled his eager blue eyes at her, and he told her he wished s
he would come back often. When the talk turned to horses, he said abruptly to Howard, “Why don’t ye take the little lady fer a ride, Chap? I bet she’d like to see the view from the Jump-off.” He added to Geneva, “Hit’s real perty, yew kin see the river from up there.”
Howard hesitated. Geneva knew he felt he would be overstepping his bounds if he invited her for a ride, as if she might think he had lured her here on the pretense of retrieving her car, but hoping for something more. She really did not feel like riding. Her headache and sore throat had returned, but this was her chance to show him kindness. She smiled at him.
“Howard, I’d love to go riding. I’ve never been up to these parts before. Do you have horses?”
“I do, Miss Geneva. They’re in the stable, up through the woods back yonder. I’d be pleased ta take ye up to see the Jump-off.”
Howard’s father fairly laughed out loud in his delight. “Ya’ll take yer time, y’hear? I’ll be gone over to Pappy and Mammy’s when yew git back,” he called after them as they struck off through the woods toward the barn.
The barn, too, spoke of an affluence that Geneva did not expect. It was new, airy, and large, exuding the rich smell of pine and clean straw, but the real surprise came when Howard opened the first stall and led out a beautiful Morgan stallion. Geneva’s eyes widened. How could he afford such a magnificent beast?
The answer dawned on her as Howard led the second horse, an equally beautiful Appaloosa mare, from the next stall, and her heart turned cold and hard. Jimmy Lee had been lying or wrong. Howard did have himself a little cash crop up here. More likely a huge cash crop, one which put a lot of dope into the high school pipeline. Nobody could earn the kind of money it takes to build a homestead like this simply by selling off timber and farming legitimate crops. Her pleasant expression turned icy, and she sagged against a stall door, miserable of spirit.
The Women of Jacob’s Mountain Boxed Set Page 22