Ghost of Summer

by Sally Berneathy

  But wasn't that sort of what he'd just implied to Katie...that he loved her in a different way than a man loved a woman, in a friendship way?

  Yeah, he'd just told her that outrageous lie.

  Well, what the hell was he supposed to do when she was engaged to that Spencer guy in Dallas? Friendship was the only way he could keep her in his life.

  Though she had expressed doubts about marrying Spencer.

  Which had only confirmed his fears about the temporary state of romantic love. She wasn't even married to Spencer, and already she was falling out of love.

  So what would he do if Katie called off her engagement, became a free woman?

  Look her in the eye and tell her he only wanted to be friends?

  Yeah, right.

  "You feel like that about my mother?" Luke finally asked.

  "Walking on clouds, you mean?"

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah."

  "You hurt her, I'll break your face."

  "Are you kidding? I hurt her, she'll break my face."

  Luke laughed. "She would." He rose. "I think I'll take it up to bed. See you in the morning."

  "Luke, I'm glad we finally talked."

  "Yeah, me, too." They hadn't really resolved anything, but it felt different. Better. He still had those weird feelings of losing his dad forever along with his own identity, but that really didn't have anything to do with Jeff. That was his own problem, something only he could resolve.

  He still worried about his mother's future, that she might get hurt. But he felt a little more confident about it, knowing that Jeff and his mother had that same wild and crazy attraction he and Katie had.

  If Katie decided not to marry Spencer, then Luke would have to make a decision. As it stood now, he wasn't sure he could ever be just friends with her. He wasn't sure there would ever come a day when he could see her and be near her and not want to hold her, kiss her, make love to her.

  He was afraid he'd already crossed the line, that things had already changed between them, and now they had to figure out where they were going next. The answer to that might be apart. He might have already lost Katie again. And this time, just as before, through doing really stupid things, things he seemed to have no control over, like holding her and kissing her.

  But this time those really stupid things had sure felt right and wonderful at the time.

  ***

  The next day Kate begged off going with Luke, his mother and Jeff to examine the cave. She had spent too many hours down there after Luke left, hoping in some way to reach him, and then finally she'd cut off that part of her life. After last night, she certainly wasn't ready to go there again.

  She met the three of them and Papa at Dodie's Diner for lunch, then they took Jeff on a tour of downtown Briar Creek. Though, as it turned out, Jeff actually took them on a tour. Kate saw what Luke meant when he said Jeff was dynamic in the classroom. The quiet man had done his research, knew the history of every building in Briar Creek, and told it in the detailed but captivating way he'd told them the story about the cave the night before.

  "Greene's Department Store used to be Shipley's Grocery Store," he told them, "although in those days the grocery stores were more like a department store and a grocery store combined. Shipley came here from Louisiana in 1866, right after the Civil War ended. He fought for the South, even though he didn't believe in their cause. After the War, he decided to come to Texas where a man's worth was judged by what he could do, not his family or his money. He built the first store with his own hands, a pretty simple shack. Then as the town grew and he prospered, he hired someone to build him a decent place." Jeff ran a hand over the wooden clapboards. "The current owners have made improvements, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is the original structure."

  "Could be," Papa confirmed. "That building hasn't changed since I was a boy, and that was a long time ago."

  As they made their way through town, Papa greeted everyone they met, and they had to stop every few feet when someone recognized Luke's mother and had to greet her, be introduced to Jeff and hear how she'd been doing for the past seventeen years.

  "This is another place that hasn’t changed much over the years," Papa said when they reached Billy Ed's Bar and Grill. "Grill's been out since sixty-eight. Billy Ed's just too cheap to get a new sign."

  "This was once the Briar Rose Saloon and Dance Hall," Jeff said, "owned and managed by a woman named Rose Swanson. And two doors down, on the corner, was the Briar Rose Brothel. Rose was a smart businesswoman. She believed in diversification."

  Luke laughed. "So Windsor's Fine Jewelry was once a brothel. That jerk has his nose in the air so high he'd drown if he went outside in a rain storm. I'll never be able to look at him again without smirking."

  They reached the building in question, and Kate stepped back a few paces to study it in this new light. "It's so elegant with all those bevels and leaded glass in the door and windows. Somebody must have redone it somewhere along the line."

  Jeff studied the tall oak door with the glass insets and the intricate designs that made the windows virtually opaque, then smiled. "I don't think so. This is pretty much the way it looks in old pictures. This was a high-class place where the wealthy men of the town could go. The poor farmers and cowboys were stuck with the saloon." He moved back beside Kate and pointed to the balcony. "She had that wrought iron railing shipped in from New Orleans. She wanted the perfect showcase for her girls. They'd stand or sit up there in their elaborate dresses and entice customers, though Rose never let them shout or get vulgar. They were supposed to conduct themselves at all times as ladies."

  As Jeff talked, Kate noticed the way Luke's mom watched him...her eyes full of love and pride. Luke was right about one thing. Jeff did make her happy.

  It was the way she'd imagined Papa looking at Mama the other evening when he'd been dancing by himself.

  It was the way Kate knew she would never look at someone, the way she didn't dare look at someone. Jeff and Francine were happy now, but who knew how long it would last? And Papa's intense love for Mama had crashed his mind just the way an overload could crash her computer.

  A loud boom shattered the quiet afternoon air of Briar Creek.

  "What—" Kate started to ask.

  "That direction," Papa said, and he and Luke ran back the way they'd just come.

  "I believe it was a gun shot," Jeff said.

  "A gun shot?" Kate whirled to run after Luke and her father, her heart pounding in her ears.

  Francine grabbed her arm. "Katie, they're trained to deal with things like that. We're not. We need to stay out of the way."

  "Papa keeps saying nothing happens in Briar Creek!" She remembered how angry Luke had been at her for spying on them at the liquor store, but she had to risk it. She couldn't stay here quietly while the two people who meant the most to her in the whole world risked their lives.

  She whirled away from Francine and ran to the saloon. Three people had already congregated at the door and were holding it open. She pushed through to the front just as another shot rang out.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dimness and she saw Luke standing at one end with his gun drawn while Papa stomped across the room, shoving tables and chairs out of his way as he went.

  Papa was mad, and Kate was terrified. He was marching straight toward an elderly, bald-headed man wearing faded overalls, sitting on a bar stool and pointing a gun at him.

  "Don't come any closer, Sheriff!" the man ordered, and Kate repeated the command in a whispered prayer.

  "Why? You gonna shoot me, Homer? Give me that gun before you hurt somebody besides the cockroaches on Billy Ed's floor." He stopped in front of the man, reached over and snatched the gun away from him then emptied the bullets onto the floor and stuck the gun in his belt. "Damned old fool! What the hell did you think you were doing? I oughta run you in, make you spend a few nights in jail. A man your age! Are you drunk? I don't care if you are. That's no excuse!"

  Homer's fa
ce crumpled. For a minute Kate thought he was going to cry. He turned on his stool, picked up his beer and downed a sizeable portion of the almost-full mug.

  "He threatened to kill me." Another elderly man appeared at the opposite end of the bar where he'd apparently been crouching out of sight. The second man was similarly dressed in overalls and faded denim shirt but had a few strands of white hair across his head.

  "Is that right, Homer?" Papa asked. "Did you threaten to kill Seth?"

  Homer ducked his head and nodded.

  Papa heaved an enormous sigh, shook his head and slid onto the stool next to Homer. "Fay, bring us all a cup of coffee. Luke, get rid of the gawkers in the doorway. Seth, get over here. We're going to stop this nonsense right now. I've had enough from you two."

  Kate knew the exact instant Luke spotted her in the crowd of gawkers. His brow lowered, and his face darkened.

  "All right, everybody," he said, striding across the floor toward them. "Let's move on outside and let Sheriff do his job."

  The other people backed out, and Kate, satisfied that Luke and Papa were all right, tried to go with the crowd, but Luke caught her arm, restraining her from leaving.

  "What are you doing here?" he grated as the door closed behind her.

  She jerked her arm out of his grasp. "You and Papa ran into a place where somebody was shooting. What did you expect me to do? Wait and see if you survived?"

  "That's exactly what I expected you to do. Your father's not senile, and I'm not a little boy. We're grown men. We're the law. We can deal with liquor store robbers and drunk old men. I thought you understood that."

  "I do understand, but that doesn't mean I don't worry." About Papa and about Luke. Like it or not, he'd edged his way back into her heart.

  She whirled to leave but was stopped by the sound of Papa's voice. "It's okay, Katie-girl. Come on over here. Might help you to hear this."

  "Papa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "It's okay," he repeated, extending an arm toward her.

  She crossed the room and stood beside him, in the shelter of his arm.

  "Katie, you remember Homer Grimes, don't you?"

  "Yes, I do. How are you, Mr. Grimes?" She cringed as the polite but completely inappropriate response came out of her mouth.

  "And Seth Flanders." Papa indicated the man seated two stools away from Homer.

  "Hello, Mr. Flanders," she said.

  "And all of you know my deputy, Luke Rodgers."

  Good grief! Papa was acting as if this was an afternoon social.

  "All right, now that everybody's good friends," he said, his voice still leisurely though Kate could hear the underlying steel, "I want to know just what the hell is going on between you two. And don't lie to me because I already know more than you think I do."

  "Then you know more than me." Seth crossed his arms, his jaw set stubbornly. "This old coot used to be my best friend, and one day he turned into my worst enemy. Wouldn't talk to me, snarled at me every time he saw me and now he's done tried to kill me!"

  "If I'd been trying, you'd be dead now!" Homer snapped.

  "Why, you haven't been able to hit the side of a barn with that gun in twenty years now, not since your rheumatiz got so bad."

  Kate jumped as Papa slammed Homer's gun onto the bar. "That's enough! I said I want to know how this feud started. I don't want to hear it going on and on. Homer? What happened to turn you against Seth?"

  Homer thrust out his chin. Even in the dim light, Kate could tell he needed a shave.

  Papa turned slowly on his bar stool, picked up his coffee and sipped then set it back down and shook his head. "You two have pushed me past my limits. Luke," he said quietly, "take out your gun and blow this old fool's head off. He's getting on my nerves."

  Kate gasped.

  Luke's hand dropped to his gun, but he didn't take it out.

  "You can't do that!" Homer protested, his eyes wide. Apparently he wasn't one hundred percent sure Papa couldn't do that.

  "You thought it was all right a few minutes ago for you to blow Seth's head off because he got on your nerves. What's the difference?"

  "I didn't do nothing to you, Sheriff! Seth Flanders stole my woman!"

  Kate hadn't been aware of any background noises in the bar before, but she was certainly aware of the silence now. As if her senses had all become acute in the absence of sound, the scents of beer and stale cigarette smoke seemed suddenly overpowering in their intensity...and woven in and out like a delicate thread in an intricate tapestry was the scent of lilacs.

  "You never had no woman to steal!" Seth protested.

  Homer spun around on the stool to face Seth. "And you know why? Because you stole her! I loved Glenda from the first minute I saw that trim little filly."

  "What? You never told me you had any interest in Glenda!"

  "I don't have to tell you everything! I had a helluva lot more'n an interest. I was plumb crazy about her. Then just when I was fixing to make my move, you up and married her!" Homer reached for his beer glass, ignoring the cup of coffee, and gulped the last few drops.

  "Well, if that ain't the craziest thing I've ever heard in all my life!"

  Homer turned back to him. "Sure, go ahead and make fun of me."

  "I ain't making fun of you. I'm just saying it's crazy to get mad at me for stealing a woman you never had."

  "I might'a had her if you hadn't jumped up and swept her right off her feet. I never stood a chance. You was a good-looking devil in them days. You're an ugly old coot now. Time's made us even."

  Seth shook his head in disbelief. "I can't hardly believe you've been mad at me all this time when you know that woman run off and left me back in 1966 for some salesman in a convertible coming through here on his way to California! You ought to be glad you didn't get her!"

  "But you had her for close to two years," Homer said, his gravelly voice so soft Kate had to strain to hear.

  "Yeah," Seth admitted, "I reckon I did. Them was good years."

  "You see? That's better than never having nothing, and that's what I got. A big, fat nothing."

  "You had me as a friend till you run me off!"

  The men sat quietly for a moment.

  Kate looked at her father, but he shook his head and lifted a finger toward his lips as if to tell her not to say anything.

  Finally Seth spoke again. "I painted that face on your barn, but I never did any of that other stuff. I wouldn't ruin your crops or cut your fences or even burn down that worthless old barn."

  Homer sighed. "I know you didn't. It was me. I did it. When you put that face on my barn, it give me an idea how I could punish you and get you put in jail."

  Kate looked from Papa back to Luke. Only she and Seth seemed surprised at this confession.

  "I reckon I'm the one that ought to be shooting you." Seth's tone was blustery, but Kate detected no real anger.

  "Go ahead," Homer said. "You already killed me once when you stole Glenda."

  "If I stole her, and, mind you, I ain't admitting I did 'cause you didn't have her for me to steal from you, but if I did, and you tried to get me thrown in jail and blackened my name around town, then it seems to me we're even."

  "Could be. Fay, bring us some more beers. We don't need this muddy water you call coffee."

  Fay looked to Sheriff who nodded.

  She drew two beers and set them in front of Seth and Homer. Both men lifted them and drank deeply.

  Homer wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his denim shirt. "She a good cook?"

  Seth moved a couple of barstools closer, only one away from Homer, and shook his head. "Nope. Couldn't boil water without it sticking to the pan."

  Homer made the final move to sit next to Seth. "I was sorry to hear about your Ma dying."

  "That's been twenty years ago."

  "Yeah."

  Papa eased off his stool, and he, Luke and Kate left the bar.

  The bright sunlight was blinding when they pushed through the door to
the outside world. Kate took a deep breath replacing the barroom smells with the scents of sunshine and dust...and lilacs? She must have the scent on her clothes from Papa's house. It couldn't be everywhere.

  This time of the year, it shouldn't be anywhere.

  "How did you know, Sheriff?" Luke asked.

  "I wasn't sure. I was guessing. But it was the only thing that made any sense. If Homer had resented Glenda coming between them, he'd have been happy when she left. Seth even tried to mend fences, but Homer just got meaner."