Love Finds You in Daisy, Oklahoma

by Janice Hanna

  Rena continued her lecture on behaving, and the boys stood in silence, listening. A couple of times Henry tried to interrupt or offer excuses, but she would have none of it. By the time she finished, the congregation had wrapped up the hymn and the whole place fell silent. For a moment, anyway.

  “Gee-willikers, Miss Rena, you sermonize better than the reverend,” Wesley said with a look of admiration in his eyes. “You should ask to take the pulpit next Sunday.” He brushed a loose string of hair out of his face and offered a delightful grin.

  “He’s got a point,” a deep male voice rang out. “I found your message quite convicting.”

  She turned to find a man about her age. He looked polished and refined in his Sunday-go-to-meeting suit, very much like most of the men from back home.

  Home. There was that word again.

  “Jonathan Brewer,” the handsome fellow said, extending a hand. “I’ve been meaning to stop by to meet you. I live in town, just off Main. Work for the paper.”

  “John writes for the Atoka County Register.” Jenny’s eyes shone with delight as she gazed up at him somewhat starry-eyed. “His stories are read all over the county.”

  Rena shook his outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.”

  “Jonathan, this is Miss Rena Jewel, the new director of the orphanage,” Jenny said. “She only just arrived three days ago.”

  “Miss Rena Jewel.” Jonathan gave her hand a squeeze. Gazing into her eyes, he said, “Well, now, I heard a rumor that we had a rare jewel in town. I’ve been dying to see if you were a Ruby or a Pearl. Looks like you’re a Rena.” He gave her a little wink, and her heart began to flutter. His hand lingered in hers for a bit longer than necessary. When he finally withdrew it, he raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I must confess, I made a point of meeting you this morning because I want to discuss a topic of great importance with you.”

  The strains of a rousing closing hymn played, and before long the people began to stream out of the chapel, anxious to fetch their children from the Sunday school classrooms.

  Rena started to respond to Jonathan when the boys began to squirm.

  “Miss Rena, can’t we go now?” Oliver asked.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Wabash always let us play outside fer a spell after church,” Henry added.

  “If’n we behaved ourselves,” Callie said as she walked by. “And you boys did not behave yourselves.”

  “Not even close,” Josephine added, her nose tilted upward.

  The girls giggled and took off with Lilly on their heels.

  Rena looked at the boys. “You’ve already endured one ‘sermon’ from me, as you called it. If I hear of any more trouble from you boys, there will be far worse than a sermon to contend with. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes’m.” Henry gave her a nod.

  “Go on with you, then.” She waved her hand to dismiss the group. “Try not to burn anything down.”

  “We’ll try!” Wesley’s voice rang out, followed by a burst of laughter.

  “Cain’t make any promises!” Henry added.

  “Cain’t make any promises!” Oliver echoed.

  Mikey, Bubba, and Tree led the way outside with the twins on their tail, who were carrying on about the big ship that had brought them to America years ago. The rest of the boys—including David, Nate, Timmy, and a couple of the others—tagged along behind with smiles on their faces.

  “You know, they’re really not bad kids.” Jonathan looked after them as they took off at a fast pace. “In fact, a couple of them remind me of myself as a boy.” A wistful look came over his face for a moment. “I grew up in the Texas Panhandle. What about you?”

  Jenny slipped her arm through Rena’s. “Rena comes to us all the way from Gulfport, Mississippi.”

  “Gulfport!” His eyes lit with apparent delight. “Why, I have family in Gulfport. Do you know a Mildred Brewer, perhaps? Or a Mary-Lou?”

  “I knew a Mary-Lou Brewer years ago in high school.”

  “My cousin.” Jonathan crossed his arms and smiled. “Well, it’s a small world, now, isn’t it?”

  “It is. But I didn’t really grow up in Gulfport. I moved there when I turned fourteen because…” She paused, unsure of how much to share.

  Thank goodness, she didn’t have to finish the story. A swarm of people passed by. Many gave Rena curious looks. She couldn’t be sure if they were suspicious or upset at her for some reason. At any rate, few paused to give her more than a polite nod.

  “I guess this isn’t the best time or place to talk,” Jonathan said. “But I wanted you to know that I plan to run a piece in the paper about the children’s home. That was the matter of importance I mentioned earlier.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. There’s so much scuttlebutt from some of the folks in town…. They don’t give the boys and girls half a chance before they crucify them. I think it’s about time someone spoke up for them.”

  “What a wonderful idea.”

  “Yes. Well, I’m trying to come up with a plan of action to put the children in a favorable light.”

  “Good luck with that,” Mrs. O’Shea said in passing. She muttered something about how even God Himself couldn’t accomplish such a feat.

  “Anyway, I would love to meet with you sometime this week to talk through my ideas.” Jonathan gave Rena a thoughtful look. “I believe this story needs to run in the paper. Think of the good it will do those children. Why, some of them might find good homes if we do this. You want that, don’t you?”

  “Of course.” The very idea of finding good adoptive homes for the boys and girls sent a rush of excitement through her. What greater goal could there be? And, certainly, she’d met no kinder man than Jonathan Brewer since her arrival. Yes, she could surely trust this fellow to do right by the children.

  “Well, then…” Jonathan flashed a smile so broad it warmed her heart. She noticed a shimmer of something—was that interest?—in his eyes. “I’ll be in touch. We can set up a visit. With the two of us on the same team, perhaps we can keep Molly Harris and Mayor Albright at bay.”

  “Molly Harris?” Rena asked, puzzled. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t be sure why.

  “That little spitfire who gave you a piece of her mind before service started,” Jenny said.

  “Ah.” Rena paused. “And the mayor too? He’s not partial to the children?”

  “Not partial?” Jenny snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. He and Molly are two peas in a pod where the children are concerned. They would like nothing more than to shut down the orphanage.”

  “Children’s home.” Jonathan’s brow wrinkled. “Let’s call it a children’s home, not an orphanage. Imagine how the boys and girls must feel when they hear the word orphanage.”

  “Children’s home…” Rena repeated the words. Yes, it made perfect sense.

  The only thing that didn’t make sense about Jonathan Brewer was his apparent interest in the children. Perhaps—she looked into Jenny’s smiling face—yes, perhaps he was doing all this to impress a certain woman. Hmm. That would certainly explain his efforts on the children’s behalf.

  Well, regardless, Rena would take his kindness any day over the ranting of one Molly Harris. Just thinking about the elderly woman sent a shiver down her spine and a stab of pain through her heart.

  “It was great to meet you, Miss Jewel.” Jonathan’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He reached for her hand once again and lifted it to his lips. “Glad to see that the children have someone in their court for a change.”

  “Y–yes.” She nodded, feeling a bit discombobulated by the touch of his hand.

  Goodness. Had someone turned up the heat? Suddenly she could scarcely wait to get outside to cool down.

  Gene watched from a distance as Jonathan Brewer moved into the spot next to Rena. She seemed oblivious to his tactics. Still, the flirtatious behavior coming from Jonathan did not escape Gene’s notice.

  “We might need to keep an
eye on that.” His mother’s voice sounded from behind him.

  “What do you mean?” He turned to face her.

  “He’s playing that new director like a fiddle. But it seems to be a tune she enjoys. I’m pretty sure she was spellbound by his flirtations.”

  “Hmm.” Gene wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Not that I blame her. That Jonathan Brewer is one mighty fine specimen of a man.” His mother began to fan herself with her hand.

  “Mother!”

  “I’m old, but I’m not blind. And don’t think it’s gone unnoticed by the single women in town that he’s not yet found a wife.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Though I have it on good authority that Jenny Jamison is more than a little interested in acquiring that position.”

  Gene decided he’d had just about enough of this conversation. Time to turn things around. “I’m not saying Miss Jewel is naive”—he lowered his voice, so as not to be overheard—“but I do have to wonder. She doesn’t seem to be as knowledgeable of children as I’d expected. At the very least, we can say that she’s not as familiar with boys.”

  “All this you’ve gleaned from only three days of knowing her?”

  “Well, it’s more my intuition at work. I’m not saying she’s the wrong person for the job. She’s certainly…” He turned back to watch as she continued her chat with Jonathan Brewer. Pretty? No, that wasn’t the word he meant to say. Then again, she was pretty, in her own way. Not like Jenny, of course. No, seeing the two side by side, it was easy to see who held the upper hand in the beauty department. Still, Rena had a certain sense about her, a city-like sophistication.

  “Son, did I lose you?” His mother’s voice brought him back to the present.

  “Oh, no, I…” He paused. “I do hope we’ve done the right thing by bringing her all the way from Mississippi. I just want everything to be perfect—for her and the children.”

  “Things around here are a long way from perfect.” His mother paused. “Speaking of imperfections, have you heard the latest on Molly?”

  He shook his head.

  “She’s started some sort of campaign.”

  “Campaign?” That certainly got his attention. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s calling it the ‘Fresh as a Daisy’ campaign. Honestly, I think the mayor put her up to it.”

  “‘Fresh as a Daisy’?” Gene shook his head. “What do you make of it?”

  “It’s something about the town starting fresh—a new beginning. I’m pretty sure they mean without the children. She’s been circulating a petition, trying to get local business owners to sign it.”

  “Have you seen the petition?”

  “No. But I can guess what it says. Maybe a certain number of names and they take the issue before the county representatives or perhaps approach the missions board. I’m not sure. I just know that I’ve been hearing folks talk about it all morning. She’s called some sort of meeting at the church a couple weeks from now.”

  “I think I’d better keep an eye on things, then.” Gene turned his attention away from Jonathan Brewer and Miss Jewel and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. His mission? To find Molly Harris.

  He made his way past the reverend on the church steps, muttering something kind about the sermon on patience as his two boys raced by, hollering at each other. Truth be told, however, his patience with Molly was wearing so thin that he could practically see through it.

  He found her making her way across the church lawn with some sort of paper in her hand. He watched as she moved from person to person, starting with the mayor and then moving to Mrs. O’Shea.

  “What are you up to now, Molly Harris?” he whispered.

  “No good, most likely.” A familiar voice sounded from behind him.

  Gene turned to see Jonathan standing there with Miss Jewel at his side. They were soon joined by Joe, the barber, and Mr. Whitener, the postman.

  “Have you all seen the petition she’s passing around?” Jonathan asked.

  “Nope.” Gene shook his head. “Not sure I want to, to be honest.”

  “Well, you might want to have a look. She just started the fool thing this morning, but from what I hear, it’s already been signed by a handful of businessmen.”

  Joe looked a bit unnerved by the conversation and took a couple of steps away from the group.

  “Got something you want to tell us, Joe?” Jonathan asked.

  “Tell you?” Joe looked perplexed by this question.

  “Don’t tell me you signed it.” Gene gave him a pointed look.

  “Aw, shoot.” Joe kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. “Molly got to me. You know how persuasive she can be. Besides, those boys cost me a lot of money with their shenanigans awhile back. Don’t want to go through that again.”

  “Yes, but do you really think that sending them to another town to live is the answer?” Gene could hardly believe it. “What would be the point in it?”

  “Peace of mind?” Joe offered. “Shucks, I don’t know. I just know that something’s got to change. I can’t take much more.”

  “Well, then, you’re a prime candidate to hear my idea.” Jonathan’s expression brightened. “Let Molly have her campaign. We’re going to have one of our own—one designed to renovate the orphanage and help folks take a positive interest in the children.”

  “A campaign of our own?” Joe looked boggled by this idea.

  “I’m of the firm belief that people are afraid of what they don’t understand,” Jonathan said. “Many of the older townspeople have forgotten what it’s like to be a child, so they don’t understand when the boys and girls act up. Others don’t appreciate the various ethnicities of the children. There are some hidden—and not so hidden—prejudices against those of a different race.”

  “Never really thought of that, but I suppose you’re right.” Gene paused to think about it. Well, sure. That last thing alone must surely be at the root of the problem for some. Though they wouldn’t speak of their prejudices aloud, many held them in their hearts. No doubt about that.

  “Leave it to me,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to come up with a solution to draw attention to the plight of the children’s home, and it’s going to be far-reaching. People all across Atoka County will want to pitch in. Maybe even people across the state—or in other states. The whole country.”

  “You think?” Joe appeared to be mesmerized by this idea.

  Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest. “I know. Watch and see.”

  Gene wasn’t sure if the newspaperman exuded confidence or cockiness. Still, he could hardly fault the fellow, when the sole intent was to spare the children more grief. Out of the corners of his eyes he caught a glimpse of Miss Jewel, whose eyes were fixed on Jonathan Brewer. Why this bothered Gene, he couldn’t say. What did it matter if the new director of the orphanage hung onto the reporter’s every word?

  As his thoughts drifted toward Rena, he paid less attention to Jonathan’s speech. Then, off in the distance, a little girl’s cries rang out. Gene turned to see little Josephine fighting—literally fighting—with the mayor’s daughter, Calista.

  He ran toward them alongside Rena. They approached the girls just as Josephine shouted.

  “I do so too have a mother!” Josephine shoved Calista, knocking her to the ground. “She’s in heaven!” Josephine’s blond braids flew into the air as she took another swing at the girl.

  Calista rose, brushed the dirt off her frilly Sunday dress, and stuck out her tongue at Josephine. “You just wait and see, you stupid orphan. At least I can talk to my mama. You can’t.” She straightened the bow in her hair and brushed the dirt from her dress. “So there.”

  At this, Josephine gave her another push, which sent Calista sprawling. This time her dress didn’t fare as well. When she rose, a large rip in the beautiful blue skirt was obvious. And the dirt smudges might be a problem as well.

  Calista took one look at her dress and erupted in tears. “Just you wai
t!” She shook her fist in Josephine’s face then went crying to her mama. No doubt this would only stir up trouble even more.

  Gene looked Rena’s way. “Better get while the gettin’s good.”

  “Beg your pardon?” Fine wrinkles appeared between her eyes.

  “Take the children and run. Trust me on this. You haven’t met the mayor yet, right?”

  “No, but I’d like to. I think, perhaps, I could persuade him to—” She never got to finish her sentence. Gene took her by the shoulders, turned her around, and said, “You need to go. Now. Take the children home. I’ll be by later to check on you.”

  Rena found herself so incensed by the sheriff’s insistence that she leave that she could barely speak. She couldn’t remember ever being so angry.

  “Who does he think he is?”

  “He’s the one trying to save your life,” Jonathan suddenly said beside her. “We don’t have time to explain right now, because you really do need to take the kids and run for home.”

  Josephine swiped at her dirty face and took Rena by the hand. “Miss Rena, I’m sorry I hit that prissy Calista. I really am. But we’ve gotta get going. C’mon. She’s gone to fetch her papa.”

  Rena nodded but refused to be swayed by Josephine’s nudging. “That’s what the sheriff said. But I still don’t understand why we need to run. Let’s just face him, and you can make the proper apologies.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand, do you?”

  “No.”

  “C’mon!” The boys all appeared at once, Henry leading the pack. “Hurry up, everyone.”

  Rena tried to gather her wits about her but felt a little out of sorts. One thing was apparent—she needed to get out of here quickly. Everyone seemed to be in agreement about that.

  “Come on, boys and girls,” she called out. “We’re headed back to the house now.”

  The boys gathered around her like flies to honey. With Henry leading the way, they fell into a line and started the march—actually, it felt more like a sprint—toward home. Rena did her best to count heads but found it nearly impossible.