Love Finds You in Daisy, Oklahoma

by Janice Hanna

  “Well, they’ve done just the opposite. I want to pack my bags and head back to Mississippi, where I can still show my face in public. Because that’s one thing I’ll never be able to do around here again.”

  Henry leaned against the door, his eyes now misty. “I–I’m so sorry, Miss Rena. Please don’t go.”

  “Please!” Josephine cried. “You’re like a mama to me! If you go away, I don’t know what I’ll do!” She dissolved into tears.

  Rena tried to gather her wits about her. She looked back and forth between the two youngsters, a mixture of emotions rushing over her. If what Henry had said was true, they weren’t trying to hurt her. They thought the letters would make her want to stay put. But why had they done it? What had they hoped to accomplish? And how had they managed to write such convincing letters?

  “A new director is coming in May, remember?” she said. “Surely the sheriff can look after you until then.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. After a few moments her breathing steadied. She hoped her voice would do the same. “One thing I simply must know.”

  Josephine sniffled. “W–what?”

  “However did you write such grown-up letters? Your choice of words was so convincing, so educated. I understand the beautiful handwriting. Miss Jamison has often bragged on your penmanship, Josephine, but however did you choose the wording?”

  “Oh, that.” Henry worried the carpet with the toe of his shoe. “We, um, well…”

  She looked at the boy, knowing in her heart of hearts that he could not have composed those letters. But someone had done it. Who?

  Before they could respond, Oliver appeared in the open doorway, followed by the twins, then Mochni and several of the others. Callie wormed her way from the back of the troop to enter, as well.

  “I know how they did it, Miss Rena,” she said. “They used the words in your stories.”

  “My stories?” A new wave of fear washed over Rena at this revelation.

  “Yes.” Callie reached under the pillow and came out with the notebook.

  Rena grabbed it from her, horrified.

  Josephine’s little face lit up, though tears still glistened in her eyes. “Your stories are so romantical. Heroes and damsels in distress. And the way they talk to each other is so lovely.” She appeared to swoon. “Ooh, so lovely! That’s how we knew what to say!”

  “Wait.” Rena shook her head, confused. “You’re telling me that you took my very words and used them in those letters?”

  “Yes.” Henry sighed. “It’s true.”

  “Remember that line in the first letter?” Josephine asked. “The one where the sheriff said”—here, she put on a deep male voice—“‘If you would allow me to admire you from afar while I work up the courage to speak my mind, I would be overcome with happiness.’”

  “Y–yes.”

  Henry pursed his lips. “Heck. Ya gotta know I coulda never come up with words like that. Not in a month of Sundays. But Gerald the Ranger said that very thing to Rosalinda, the woman he rescued from the runaway train. Remember? He wanted her to know that he loved her but was afraid to say it out loud.”

  She’d been had, but not in the way she’d suspected. They had read her stories and used them against her. Only, it sounded as if they had really used them for her, in their own strange way. Their hearts were in the right place, anyway.

  “When we read your stories, we put two and two together and figured…” Henry’s words faded away.

  “That’s how we knew you were in love with the sheriff.” Callie bounced up and down. “See? He’s Gerald and you’re Rosalinda.” Her nose wrinkled. “Only, he didn’t really rescue you from a train, did he?”

  “Nah, silly.” Henry gave her a shove. “But he did pick her up at the train station that first day, so I’m guessin’ that’s why she wrote all that.” He gazed at Rena. “Is that right?”

  She closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. This couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  Or could it?

  She opened her eyes. “Let me ask you children another question: Did you tell the sheriff about my stories? Stories with a Ranger named Gerald and a woman named Rosalinda?”

  “Oh, sure. Told him awhile back.” Henry chuckled. “But he said I must be lyin’, ’cause the Rena he knows is far too sensible for that.”

  All the boys and girls started laughing, but Rena didn’t join them. In fact, she suddenly felt the room spin as her emotions kicked in once more. She shooed the children from her room and started crying all over again.

  A few minutes later, another rap sounded at the door. She hollered out, “Go away!” but the door opened anyway. Rena looked up to discover Reuben, Sadie, and Virginia standing there.

  “Oh, you poor, dear girl.” Virginia headed her way and sat down on the bed next to her. She attempted to slip her arm around Rena’s shoulders, but Rena did not wish to be touched.

  “We passed Jonathan coming into town,” Sadie said. “He’d gone to fetch the doctor.”

  “Ugh!” Rena groaned.

  “Don’t worry,” Sadie said. “I told him it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Did you tell him anything else?” Rena asked.

  “Of course not, silly.”

  “Good. Because that would just be too much to take.” Rena blew her nose into her hankie and swabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she reached under the bed for her suitcase and tossed it on top of the chenille spread. Opening it was a bit more difficult, but she managed, doing her best to avoid the stares of her family members.

  “Are—are you going somewhere?” Sadie asked, eyes wide.

  Rena nodded. “I have no choice. I can never show my face in town again.” She rose from the bed, opened the top drawer of her dresser, grabbed her unmentionables, and tossed them inside the open suitcase. Then she went to work pulling dresses off hangers.

  “Rena.” Reuben’s voice sounded strained.

  She looked his way, though he looked a bit fuzzy through the haze of tears. “You were right, Reuben. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going back home where I belong.”

  From outside the door, the cries of the children rang out. Sadie soon joined the chorus, tears streaming.

  Virginia rose and walked to Rena’s side. “You can’t leave, Rena. You simply can’t.”

  “I can, and I will.”

  “Rena.” Reuben’s voice came again. “Listen to me. Please.”

  She stopped packing long enough to glance his way. He offered her a half smile then gestured for her to sit on the bed. Defeated, she plopped down next to the suitcase. “Whatever you have to say, can’t it wait until we’re on the train? We will have a long journey to discuss all of this.”

  “There will be no journey for you,” he said.

  “There will.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “This is your home.”

  She felt the sting of tears once again but willed them not to come. No, from now on, she would act the part of the grown-up. No more tears for her, no matter how much humiliation came her way.

  “Rena, there’s something I want to tell you.” Reuben’s expression softened.

  She didn’t respond over the lump in her throat.

  He gazed at her with such love that it shook her to the core. “All those years, I limited you,” he whispered.

  “Limited me?” She shook her head, unable to make sense of his words.

  He released a slow breath. “I gave you menial tasks when I should have been challenging you more. I never really considered the idea that you might need to be needed elsewhere. I just wanted to make your life easier. There’s nothing wrong with a brother wanting the best for his sister, but somewhere along the way, I lost sight of the thought that you might have more to offer. And that life might have more to offer you. Can you forgive me for that?”

  “F–forgive you?”

  “I was content to watch you creep along, when, in reality, you were born to soar. Yo
u were born for more than knitting or any of those other projects I gave you to keep you busy. You were born…” He gestured to the doorway where the children had now gathered. “For this.”

  “It hasn’t been easy,” Virginia said. “And I daresay you will face more challenges ahead. But you’ve laid down the life you used to know and taken up another life, one God intended all along.”

  Rena closed her eyes to shut out the image of the children. But try as she might, she could not shut them out. Did she really want to?

  Before she could give the idea more consideration, she heard a door slam. A familiar male voice rang out from downstairs. “Rena! Rena, where are you?”

  Her heart quickened as Gene’s voice grew louder. “No!”

  “Rena. I need to talk to you,” his voice called again, this time closer.

  She shook her head, everything within her crying out against this.

  “Talk to him, Rena,” Virginia said. “It will do you both good.”

  The crowd cleared, and she saw him bounding up the stairs. By the time he arrived in her open doorway, she was up and packing once again.

  Gene stopped when he saw Rena. He couldn’t help but smile. In spite of the tears…in spite of the messy hair standing atop her head…in spite of the red nose and disheveled clothing…she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. And he would tell her so, no matter how goofy the words might sound coming out of his mouth. No, they wouldn’t match up to whatever she’d read in those letters, but he would give it his best shot.

  Gene stood alongside the others at the entrance to her room, a sense of longing overtaking him.

  “Rena, please come downstairs so we can talk.”

  “No.” She shook her head, tears flowing. “I can’t.”

  “I need to talk to you. Alone. Please.”

  “No. Don’t you see?” She turned away, dabbing at her eyes. “I can’t. I’m…humiliated.”

  “Humiliated? Why?”

  She turned back toward him and shoved the letters in his direction. “Because I was convinced you had written these notes to me. That’s the only reason I…I…” Tears erupted. “Oh, please tell me you haven’t read the letter that was left on your desk.”

  “I read every word.”

  At this point, Reuben and Virginia eased their way out of the room. Sadie nudged Henry out, and Josephine followed. The others drifted away, out into the hallway, leaving the two of them alone to talk. He would have to remember to thank them later.

  Rena sat down on the edge of the bed. “I was just responding to the letters you…I mean, the letters I thought you… Oh, never mind!”

  “Do I dare ask what they said? These letters the children wrote on my behalf, I mean. I heard they were really beautiful.”

  “Here.” She reached inside her notebook and pulled out several pages of crisp, white stationery. “Read them for yourself. I plan to toss them in the fireplace. I would have burned them already, only, I just found out they were forged.”

  He picked up the letters from the floor and opened them one by one. They were beautifully written and expressed every emotion he now felt, probably better than he could have expressed them himself.

  “So the letter you left on my desk was in response to these so-called love letters?”

  She waited a moment to offer a nod. “Yes,” she whispered. “And I beg of you to give it back. It is irrelevant now. If you have any mercy on me, you will forget it was ever written.”

  At this, his heart twisted. “I can only hope you are speaking out of embarrassment and not from your heart.”

  She looked his way, her brow wrinkled. “W–what?”

  “Rena…” He drew near and reached for her hand. “I’ve been the biggest fool on the planet.”

  She did not respond, so he figured she must agree with him.

  “The children got it right,” he whispered.

  “Th–they did?”

  “Every word.” He lifted the letters and smiled. “I have felt all of these things for some time now but didn’t have the courage to tell you. Never could’ve put it in such pretty words, though.”

  “R–really?”

  “Really. Truly.” He put the letters down on the dresser and pulled her to a standing position. Sliding an arm around her tiny waist, he pulled her close. Her breath was warm against his cheek, but she did not try to pull away, for which he was thankful.

  His heart really went to town now. “I might not be the best with words,” Gene whispered, “but I do know how to tell a woman when I care about her.” He drew her closer still and planted tiny kisses along her hairline. She relaxed in his arms, her face now tilted up to his. Gene ran his fingertip along her cheek and gazed into those beautiful eyes.

  “Oh, Gene.” She buried her face against his shoulder and trembled.

  He lifted her chin once more and pressed his lips against hers. Her arms gently wrapped around his neck, and she returned his kiss with such passion that it sent a little shiver down his spine.

  Never in all his born days would he have expected Miss Rena Jewel, director of the Atoka County Children’s Home, to have this sort of emotion buried beneath the surface. Not that he was complaining, of course. Oh no. A second kiss convinced him that she was definitely capable of composing a good love story—and a believable one, at that.

  Outside the door, the children took to cheering. He didn’t mind. Let them cheer all they wanted. He would go on celebrating right here, with his arms around the finest woman in Atoka County.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  TIPS FOR DEALING WITH UNRULY YOUNG’UNS—Folks in Daisy often claim that I’m too softhearted to be a reporter. They say I should cover the hard-hitting stories. That’s just not my style. Give me a local heartfelt piece any day. That’s one reason I’m so keen on supporting the town’s children. Speaking of which, the men of Daisy, led by our own Sheriff Gene Wyatt, will rally together this coming Saturday morning at ten o’clock to begin renovations on the children’s home so the boys and girls will have a safe place to live. We hope you will join us for fun, fellowship, and great food, which the ladies have promised to provide.

  —Jonathan Brewer, Reporter

  The cold days of winter gave way to the warmer days of spring. Rena found herself in a state of heavenly bliss…most of the time. Every now and again reality would stare her in the face—usually in the form of Molly Harris, who still had some biting things to say about the children. And in spite of his campaign for reelection, Mayor Albright hadn’t quite given up on his idea to shut down the children’s home. Still, Rena felt sure these people would not prevail. With Gene’s hand in hers, she could conquer any foe.

  Not that she wanted to consider Molly or the mayor her foe. No, indeed. For, the more she got to know Molly in particular, the more she saw a woman much like herself, one who had never experienced life to the fullest. Perhaps with a bit of love she could be won over.

  In late March, just ten short weeks after Rena and Gene’s first kiss, the weather had warmed enough to begin serious renovations on the children’s home. She watched as the man she loved gathered his troops—Charlie, Jonathan, Joe, and even Old Man Tucker, the latter agreeing to the task with a sour expression on his face. They arrived on a Saturday morning, ready to work. The task of the day? Start on the exterior of the home, pulling down all rotting boards and shutters. Rena looked on, her heart so full she could hardly stand it.

  Sadie watched too, though she shifted back and forth from the children’s home to the little house she and Charlie had purchased just down the street. These past few weeks had brought about additional changes in her life too. Turned out she and Charlie were expecting. She’d sprouted tears of joy when Doc Moseley gave her the news, and she had easily shifted into her mommy-to-be role. Except for the nausea, of course. It kept her inside more often than not these days.

  But not today. Today she stood side by side with Rena, Jenny, and Carolina, looking on as the men labored away. Off in the distance th
e children played on the overgrown lot next to the home. The boys joined in a rousing game of baseball, and the girls squealed with glee every time one of the boys got a hit. Josephine, in particular, seemed smitten with the game. The youngster had joined in like one of the boys.

  Rena paused to watch the game a little more closely, and Carolina joined her.

  “Those boys are something else.” Rena nodded toward the overgrown lot.

  “Especially Tree.” Carolina pointed as he made a hit that went long across the field. “See there? He’s really good. Might make the major leagues someday.”

  “I can’t imagine a major-league player with a name like Tree.” Rena laughed. “Never have quite figured out where that name came from, anyway.”

  Carolina chuckled. “The boys told me awhile back. They said that he was a stubborn little thing as a baby. Wouldn’t move when his mama told him to move, so she called him Tree. Said his roots were planted deep.”

  “Roots planted deep,” Rena echoed the words. She grabbed Carolina’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I like that. May all our roots run deep.”

  “Roots of stubbornness…or something else?” Carolina grinned.

  “Maybe a little of that too,” Rena said. “But I meant our spiritual roots. May we all be like trees, planted by the waters. Immovable.”

  “A lovely thought.” Carolina turned back to watch Tree, who ran the bases—if one could call them that—and landed safely at home. “I’ll never think of the boy’s name in the same light again.”

  “Amen,” Rena whispered. She kept a watchful eye on the overgrown field as Josephine took her turn at bat. For whatever reason, watching the little girl brought the happiest feeling of the day. How lovely, to see her enjoying life once more. That same motherly feeling swept over Rena as she watched Josephine hit the ball and run to first base. Oh, how precious, to truly love a child in such a way. Had she ever known such love?

  Off in the distance Gene gave her a wave, and she realized she had known such a love. How very, very full her heart felt today. She prayed this feeling would last forever.