Beloved Enemy, The (House of Winslow Book #30)

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Don’t you have another man in your life?”

  Jenny gave him a quick glance. She was a strong-willed girl with a spirit that was not easily quenched. She had not taken the fall from high society well at all, but now she seemed over it. “No, I don’t have a beau, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “What about Reverend Crutchfield?”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to that,” Jenny said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “I thought you and he had something going.”

  Jenny turned to face Clint, her large, expressive eyes half closed. “I think it’s one of those cases where he feels more for me than I do for him.”

  “That’s a tough one. Have you told him so?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “How did he take it, sis?”

  “Surprisingly well.”

  Josh looked off into the distance where the low hills rose like small gray elephants. They were rounded and smooth, not like the Rockies—sharp and piercing. He liked these gentle mountains, for they seemed more tranquil. “How do you tell someone you don’t love them?”

  “Well,” Jenny said slowly, “there are two ways. You can do it slowly or quickly. I think it’s kinder to meet it head-on.” She pulled off the soft cap she had worn to protect her hair from the paint and examined it, then said, “I’ve known some women that did it the slow way. They stopped taking calls. They put the man off. They started being cold to him. I think that’s cruel.”

  “Better to do it all at once, huh?”

  “If you had a dog that you wanted to have a bobbed tail, you wouldn’t cut off one inch today and another inch tomorrow and a third inch the next day all the way down. You’d just do it all at once.”

  Josh laughed. “That’s a strange way of putting it, but I think you’re right.”

  “You’ll have to do the same thing to Dora, you know.”

  Jenny’s blunt words hit Josh like the flat of an ax. “I’m finished with her,” he said curtly.

  “You may be, but she’s not finished with you.”

  “Have you seen her lately?”

  “Yes. She asked me when you were going to get out. She’s just waiting for you, Josh. You’d best be careful.”

  Josh shook his head. “That’s all over.”

  Jenny smiled warmly then, her eyes gleaming with gladness. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m just telling you, she’s going to try.”

  They began painting again, and Josh found a real pleasure in covering the old boards. He so longed to see the old house gleaming and spotless and beautiful, as he imagined it was during his mother’s childhood. She had often told them about the lovely home she’d grown up in, but when they’d arrived and seen its dilapidated condition, they’d been very disappointed. Now, with a great deal of work accomplished with very little money, the house was rising up like a phoenix out of its ashes. Finally they finished and began cleaning their brushes with turpentine in a bucket.

  “It takes real character to clean out a brush,” Josh said. “If I were rich, I’d use it once, then throw it away and get a fresh one.”

  “I wouldn’t think of doing that now!” Jenny said. “They cost too much.” She looked up and shook her head. “I never thought about how much things cost back when we lived in New York. Now I count every penny. Do you think I’m becoming a miser?”

  “I hardly think so. These are tough times. Everybody has to be careful these days.”

  “Do you have any idea what you want to do, Josh?”

  “You mean for a living? No, I don’t. I have no trade, no profession. I’ll just have to work at whatever there is until this depression is over. It can’t last forever. America’s too strong to go down permanently.”

  “I know what you’d like to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I never saw you so excited as when you were in college. Every time you came home from one of those digs, you were bubbling over.”

  “Too late for that. You have to study for years to become an archeologist. It’s kind of a closed field.”

  “You could do it if you wanted to.”

  “No, not anymore.”

  Suddenly Jenny said vehemently, “Why, Josh Winslow, I reckon you could do anything you set your mind to!”

  Josh looked up at her, astounded. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”

  “I’ve always seen it in you.”

  “I don’t see how. I was so drunk most of the time in college that nobody could see anything but a drunk.”

  “That’s what you did. It’s not what you are.”

  Josh smiled sadly. “We all have to put some dreams aside, Jenny. That’s one of the penalties I have to pay for the kind of life I led.”

  Jenny stared at him and said, “Well, you remember what I said.”

  “Right now I’m thinking more about a job that will pay me any kind of money. Austin Whelock came by yesterday. He told me about a mill in Tennessee that’s opening up. He saw in the paper that they’ll be hiring two hundred men. I’m going to go there and try to be one of them.”

  “You’re leaving! But you just got here. You haven’t even rested up.”

  “I can rest up on the way there. I need to go to work so I can help Dad out some.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “No, but you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”

  “I think you’re running away from Dora.”

  Josh stared at the ground for a moment, and when he looked up, his eyes were troubled. “You’re too sharp for me, Jenny. I guess I probably am running. I don’t know why it is, but I haven’t gotten her out of my system yet. I know what she is, and the worst thing in the world would be for me to get mixed up with her again. I’d just as soon not have to be around her.”

  “That may be a good thing, Josh. You remember Joseph in the Bible when Potiphar’s wife took hold of him? He ran like a scared rabbit.”

  “That’s what I’ll do,” Josh said, grinning. He reached over and pulled Jenny’s red hair. “Always keep your red hair, sis,” he teased.

  “Never mind my hair. You run like a scared rabbit from that woman, you hear me!”

  ****

  The radio held a fascination for the family that Josh could not explain. Every evening they gathered around it to hear their favorite programs, and one evening Lewis complained, “This contraption’s going to ruin family life!”

  “What do you mean, Dad?” Josh asked.

  “I mean we used to sit around and talk to each other. Now we sit around and stare at this box and it talks to us. Sometimes, I want to shove my foot through it and throw it out the window.”

  “You’d better not!” Josh said in mock horror. “Kat would have your head if you did.”

  Kat jumped up and came over to stand before her father. “You wouldn’t do such a thing, would you, Daddy?”

  Lewis put his arm around her. “No, I probably wouldn’t, princess, but I don’t want you to forget how to read!”

  “Oh, Daddy, I could never do that. Can I go to the movies tomorrow?” She changed the subject so abruptly it took her father by surprise.

  “For goodness’ sake, Kat. If it isn’t the radio, then it’s the movies!” Lewis said, sighing. “You’re always wanting to go to the movies. What is it this time?”

  “It’s called Frankenstein.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “All the kids have seen it. It’s about this scientist who makes a monster out of the bodies of a bunch of dead people. He sends his helper out to get a brain, and the helper breaks the bottle containing the good brain and puts an evil brain in it.”

  Lewis stared at Kat. “That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever heard of!”

  “But all my friends have seen it!”

  “And if all your friends jumped into the river and drowned, would you do that too?”

  “Don’t be silly, Daddy. They’re not drowning themselves. They’re just going to a movie.”

  “Well,
I’m not taking you to see an awful thing like that.”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like a pretty interesting movie to me,” Clint said lazily, winking at Kat.

  At once Kat ran over to Clint and grabbed his arm. “Would you take me, Clint? Would you please?”

  “Well, your dad would have to agree to it.”

  “Clint will take me, Dad,” Kat announced triumphantly.

  Lewis stared at his youngest daughter, wondering, not for the first time, what in the world she would be like when she grew up. He saw no signs of femininity about her, except that of late her angular boy’s figure had begun developing a little. “Well, if Clint wants to take you to see such a horrible thing and pollute the innocent mind of a child, I suppose I can’t do anything about it.”

  “I’ll put my hands over her eyes so she can’t see the bad parts,” Clint promised, grinning. He turned and said to Hannah, “And you can put your hands over mine.”

  Hannah laughed. “All right, we’ll go. But we’ll probably all have nightmares.”

  Shortly after that, the family went to bed. Josh stayed in the parlor, for he knew it was his father’s habit to read for a time in his easy chair. He sat down across from Lewis and said, “I’ll be leaving next week, Dad.”

  Putting the paper down, Lewis said with surprise, “Leaving? For where?”

  “There’s a mill opening up in Tennessee. They’re going to need a lot of men, the paper said.”

  “Where’d you hear about this?”

  “Austin Whelock came by and told me.”

  “It’s too soon for you to go.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m getting nervous. I need to find some work and help with the expenses around here.”

  Lewis looked down at his hands, a troubled expression sweeping across his face. He was silent for so long that Josh asked, “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “I wish I could afford to send you back to college. I feel terrible that I’ve wasted everything.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Josh said quickly. “A lot of good men got caught in this crash. I had my chance to finish college—I could have graduated a long time ago. It was my fault, not yours.”

  “Well, at least you’ll be here for the wedding. I’m awfully glad to hear that.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for a thing!”

  Lewis Winslow looked at his son and felt a warm surge of pride. “You’ve changed, son. I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell you how proud I am of you.”

  Josh flushed. “I haven’t done anything to be proud of yet, Dad.”

  “You will, though. Jenny says you’ll be an archeologist.”

  “If I do, I’ll be the oldest one alive. I’d have to go back to college first, and then find someone willing to take me on. That would be hard.”

  “She says you can do anything you want to.”

  “She’s overestimating my capabilities. But anyway, Dad, I’m glad you’re getting married. I love Missouri Ann.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Lewis said, smiling. Then a strange expression crossed his face. “One thing worries me, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Missouri says that we’re going to have children, and I’m too old for that.”

  “No, you’re not. And if she says so, I guess it’ll happen. I never saw a woman like her.” Josh felt a warm affection for his father. “I hope you have half a dozen kids.”

  “Please, Josh, don’t say things like that!”

  “Seriously, Dad, I’m glad you have somebody. Missouri Ann’s a fine woman.” He smiled and came over and put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Mom would have loved her.”

  “She would, wouldn’t she?”

  “Yes. I really think so. Good night, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Two Become As One

  Bethel Church was packed, for although the Winslows had not been inhabitants of Summerdale, Georgia, for a lengthy time, they had made many friends. The matter of Josh Winslow’s conviction for bootlegging and his surprisingly short sentence had made the entire community aware of the family. Bootlegging had become, more or less, a cottage industry in the county. The most likely suspects, although never yet apprehended, were the Cundiffs and the Skinners. Brazenly, Dora Skinner sat in the back row of the church, even though everyone there knew she had pulled Josh Winslow into the crime that had led to his conviction and imprisonment.

  Ivy Witherspoon, the master gossip of the community, was present, as she was at every wedding and every funeral—or any other activity that did not charge admission. Mrs. Witherspoon was a sixty-five-year-old widow, a thin woman with a dark complexion and a pair of gimlet eyes set much too close together over a thin beak of a nose. Her lips also were thin—in fact, everything about the woman was thin, as though she had not been dealt a full measure. Her voice, however, in striking contrast to her slight features, was thick, strong, and potent. When she spoke, her words could be clearly heard over the soft organ prelude.

  “I’m surprised Dora Skinner has the nerve to come inside the house of God!”

  Mrs. Witherspoon’s companion, Laurel Henderson, nodded primly. “I think you’re right.” She was a woman as round and mountainous as Mrs. Witherspoon was thin. Her numerous double chins quivered with indignation as she turned to stare at Dora Skinner. “She has no shame, of course, but this is really too much.”

  “Everyone knows what she is. I’m surprised the deacons didn’t stop her at the door.”

  “You’re exactly right, sister!” Mrs. Henderson agreed.

  The two women sat there eyeing Dora, who was more amused than offended by their overloud comments. She was a strongly built young woman of nineteen, who exuded sensuality as some women exude virtue. She was wearing a blue dress intended for a woman without her abundant curves so that she appeared to be bursting out of it. Her eyes were an odd color, more hazel than anything else, and there was something feline in her facial expression. Indeed, her face was shaped much like that of a Siamese cat, and her eyes turned slightly upward, adding to the impression. She stared boldly at the two women and smiled and nodded at them, forming a profane word with her lips that could be plainly read. The two women turned several shades of red, swiveled around, and refused to look at her again.

  Dora had come to the wedding of Lewis Winslow and Missouri Ann Ramey on a whim. She had been waiting for Josh to come visit her and had been peeved when he had not. She loved to draw men to her, and some said that she chewed them up and spat them out when she grew tired of them. Josh had been different. He was educated, cultured, and fine looking. He had also been a drunk, of course, but then most of the men she knew were. Dora did not look upon drunkenness as wrong. Every article of clothing she owned and every bite of food she put into her mouth was purchased by the sale of moonshine. She herself was active in the manufacture and distribution of the vitriolic liquor that had been known to cause blindness and even death.

  Dora sat quietly, running her eyes over the congregation. She knew them all, even though she never attended church, and more than once she would meet the eyes of some man who found it impossible to hold her gaze. I could tell these nice church people a thing or two about some of these men, she thought. They’re so holy!—but they come scraping at my door after dark.

  A door opened at the front of the church, and three men emerged: the Reverend Devoe Crutchfield, Lewis Winslow, and Josh Winslow. Dora did not move, but her eyes fastened on Josh. When his eyes swept the church and met hers, she saw him suddenly draw his head back, and his lips tightened into a thin line. She smiled at him and lifted her hand in a familiar greeting. She was amused when he reddened and turned away, fixing his eyes on the door from which the bride would emerge. Dora loved the chase. For her the only game in life was that of man and woman. Anything else was not worth her time. She leaned back and smiled slightly, for she loved a challenge. She had cast off many men, but none had ever walked away from her whole and healthy. You just wait,
my darling Josh, she thought with a thrill of anticipatory pleasure. You and I will have a little talk after we get this wedding out of the way….

  ****

  Missouri Ann stood as stiff as a ramrod but considerably more attractive than she usually appeared in her old work clothes. She was a tall woman with a surprisingly slender waist, which was well set off by the wedding gown. She was big boned and strong, and her cheeks and lips were rosy with a little rouge applied by Jenny. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.

  “Relax, Ma,” Jenny said. She had been kneeling to adjust the skirt of the white gown and rose with a smile. “It’ll all be over before you know it.”

  “I wish we had run off somewhere and just got married in a preacher’s house.” Missouri Ann’s lips were pressed tightly together, and she was breathing rapidly as if overexerted.

  “Now, slow down,” Jenny soothed.

  Hannah came to stand beside her, nodding with a smile. “That’s right,” she said gently. “Take a slow, deep breath—that’s it. It’s the happiest day of your life.”

  “I feel like I’m about to step into a barrel of snakes. I never felt this skeered in my life!”

  “Didn’t you get scared at your first marriage?”

  “No—we just went to the preacher’s and got married in his living room, and it was done in five minutes. With all this fussing around and wedding dresses and such like, and all those people—I don’t know what to do!”

  Hannah exchanged a quick glance with Jenny. Her eyes were compassionate. “You’re going to do fine. There’s nothing to it.”

  The two young women had spent a great deal of time over Missouri Ann. She was rural to the bone and had never been to a formal wedding, much less taken part in one. Now as she stood there, Jenny felt a sharp stab of pity. It must be terrible for her. She knows absolutely nothing about things like this. Reaching up, she arranged a lock of Missouri’s hair and said, “You look absolutely beautiful. Dad is going to be shocked when he sees you.”

  “Do … do you really think so?”

  “Of course I do.”