Come Rain or Come Shine (13 page)

‘I run in there th' other day when th' cattle was layin' out under th' trees.'

‘What for? Why did you run in there?'

‘Me an' Willie was kickin' around a ball an' it went' over th' gate.'

‘So when you went in to get the ball, your teeth just
dropped out of your
head
?' Why oh why was she doing this? She needed counseling.

‘Dropped out of m' shirt pocket. Maybe. I don't know.' Harley rubbed his bad leg, glanced up to see if she was looking.

‘Ugh,' she said, and left the kitchen.

Father Tim had to laugh. ‘You're gettin' on her list, buddyroe.'

Three more days.

She ran to the clinic and entered by the rear door.

‘Where's Doc?' she said to Blake, who was unpacking cat and dog food onto the shelves.

‘Just washing up after—you don't want to know.'

‘What?'

‘A cat with diarrhea.'

She ran to the room with the big sink. ‘Hey,' she said.

He grinned. ‘Hey, yourself.'

He was drying his hands. It smelled terrible in here even though the exhaust fan was running on high.

She went to him and put her arms around his neck and kissed him, really kissed him. ‘I love you, I love you,' she said. ‘Gotta go.'

She raced into the reception room and grabbed the watering can from behind the counter and headed out to the zinnias. She wanted the zinnias to look their best.

‘Oh, Miz Kav'nagh!' An older man, wearing suspenders, looked up from a read in
People
magazine. ‘Just wanted to say we sure appreciate your husband.'

She didn't say he isn't my husband yet; she said thank you.

‘He's been so good with our Maizie. She's havin' her shots today.'

‘Oh, yes, I'm so glad Maizie will be able to keep her food down now.'

‘You know about Maizie?'

‘Dr. Dooley talks about his patients at the supper table.'

‘Oh!' The man colored with a certain joy. ‘Kav'nagh. I don't believe we've heard that name in these parts. Is it . . . foreign?'

‘It's Irish,' she said. ‘A lot of Irish settled this area. What's your last name?'

The man stood and shook her hand. ‘Randy O'Connell. Glad to meet you.'

‘I believe you're Irish, too, Mr. O'Connell.'

‘Call me Randy,' he said. ‘I married Mink Hershell's second cousin on his mother's side, she was a Doughty.'

‘I believe she may be Irish as well.'

‘My goodness. Irish! Well, you come see us, you hear? We live up behind th' post office. But wait till August when th' tomatoes come in, I grow Big Boys. I know my wife would love to give you a glass of sweet tea and a tomato sandwich.'

‘On white?' said Lace. ‘With lots of mayonnaise?'

He gave her a big smile. ‘And mashed down flat so th' tomato juice runs into the bread. It's th' only way.'

June 11~ Dooley has gone from college student to grown-up really fast. I think it's the cattle and the clinic. He is working long hours and is so sweet to everyone. His patients love him and I love seeing him work. He is very serious and intense.

I like what Hal said before D's graduation~ You go from all those years as a student to an actual vet instantly. Nothing gradual, just boom. Some get cocky and think they know it all. It can be a tough transition. But Dooley's been hanging out at Meadowgate for years watching us work and giving a hand. He'll have a pretty level head.

I think maybe I'm growing up, too. We will keep Lily on for two days a week. I will pay for L, who is priceless even if she does try to run the show. I need someone to help run the show.

His present is nearly done. It has to be done! There is no time to do more~ I am dying for him to see it. I can hardly bear to keep it a secret. Fr Tim will love it, too. Will take a pic with my iPad and send to Beth.

We need rain. Just not on the DAY, please! Dooley is worried about the pastures being dry.

Clarence is delivering guest gifts tomorrow~ I'm thrilled. Lots of raffia to tie on~ we will sit around the table after supper and do it together.

Harley has not found his teeth. We will launch one more major search and that does it! No more searches for teeth!

I went to the co-op yesterday because Willie forgot laying
mash and there was Buster, who said the Golden puppy was spoken for and at his house waiting for the owner to pick up. If I had seen it first, we would have a new puppy, so I am relieved, I guess.

Buster said tell Doc Kavanagh hello.

I will soon be married to someone named Doc like out of a Western totin' a six-gun! This is really fun that I get to see D as Doc Kavanagh.

The lights in the trees are perfect. We are so happy. But worried too~ because no call yet. Thy will~

June 12~ Okay! Okay! I am finished! Time has run out and the light wasn't always perfect and it could have been so much better, but honestly I am always kicking myself for something. Judgment is God's job!!!

Done.

She sat on the side of her bed with the Dooley book in her lap, and exhaled. She felt as if she hadn't exhaled lately; all manner of delirium was stored in her chest and shoulders and neck.

She went to the window and closed it; the last couple of days had been cool enough for a sweater at night.

Then she remembered. Yes!

She dipped her brush in what was left of the cadmium red on her palette.

Lace
, she inscribed on the finished product.

Then,
Kav . . . an . . . agh . . .

She had heard people say that at a certain moment in their lives the earth moved.

As she finished writing what would be her new name, she felt that it sort of did.

He was taking off his clerical collar on the back porch, following a quick trip to Mitford for cleaning and mail.

‘Can I bring a guest?' said Harley. He had talked to people who said sometimes you could bring a guest to a wedding.

‘You'll have to ask Lace. It's pretty late in the game.' The other shoe was dropping on the Amber scenario. ‘So, ah, who would you be bringing?'

It appeared that his old friend was—what? Blushing?

‘Miss Pringle,' said Harley, looking him in the eye.

It was a sight to see. Lace Harper had pinned Harley to the kitchen wall—in a manner of speaking.

‘
Where
in the field?'

‘Summers around th' water trough.'

‘Who are you sending in to find them?'

Harley looked over at him, desperate.

‘Don't look at me,' he said, meaning it. He was busy replacing the stretcher of a kitchen chair.

‘
Who?
' said Lace.

‘Lord help, I don't know. Dooley, I reckon.'

‘Dooley has better things to do than comb through tall grass lookin' for your teeth.' She went to the coatrack, took down her jacket, and sailed from the room, screen door slapping.

She was back in fifteen minutes. ‘Hold out your hands,' she said to Harley.

Harley held out his hands.

She presented him with something wrapped in paper towel, then kissed him on the forehead and turned and went along the hall.

Harley's choppers.

Joy, he thought, noting the look of reprieve on Harley's face, was another sight to see.

‘A wet knot stays tied longer'n a dry knot,' said Willie. He and Harley were having supper at Willie's house, out of the fray. ‘My mother always said that. She was married in a pourin' rain that turned to hail by th' time they got th' horses home.'

‘How long did it last?'

‘Sixty years,' said Willie.

‘Let's see. They's a fiddle, a bass, a guitar, a banjer, an' what else?' said Harley.

‘Mandolin,' said Willie. ‘An' a harmonica.'

‘With all that t' play, they'll be some busy biscuits.'

There was a long silence.

‘You gon' dance?' said Willie.

‘I don't dance,' said Harley. ‘Two left feet.'

‘What if your girlfriend wants to dance?'

‘Don't call her my girlfriend. Nossir, Miss Pringle is not a girlfriend and she don't look t' me like th' dancin' kind.'

‘What are you wearin'?' said Willie.

‘It's already laid out. Khakis, m' check shirt, lace-ups, m' good belt. How 'bout you?'

‘Same, except I'm goin' with my plaid shirt. I've not wore my church shoes in a good while, they raise a blister. I'll have to go with my town shoes.'

‘Are you gon' dance?'

‘Nossir,' said Willie. ‘I don't dance in front of people.'

‘You dance by yourself?'

The two men laughed.

‘You cackle like a layin' hen,' said Willie.

They were walking along the hay road at sunset, their boots kicking up red dust. Bowser and Bo followed—aimless, sniffing the weeds.

‘All our dogs are old,' said Lace. ‘All that wisdom and all those territorial rights—wouldn't that be hard for a puppy?'

‘Hard for a little while, maybe. Then good.'