Authors: More Than Memory

Dorothy Garlock (13 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock

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Still laughing, he circled her waist while she held on to his shoulders. He lifted her until she leaned against him, then reached around her to unhook her jeans from the strand of barbed wire.

“It was fun while it lasted—the chic Mrs. Hanson classing up a cornfield.”

Try not to clutch at him
, she commanded herself.
Act as though it’s no earthshaking event to be so close to him
. She slid down the solid length of him until her feet touched the ground. Her arms were still about his neck when she looked up. Surprised by the emotion on his face, she tried to turn away, but his fingers beneath her chin lifted her face toward his, and he kissed her lips gently.

Abruptly he pulled away, turned and strode to the picker. Panic and confusion tore at her heart.
He acts as if he’s angry because he kissed me. One minute of sweet sharing, the next moment rebuff
.

From the picker he beckoned to her. He wasn’t smiling. His brows were knit together, and she desperately wished she had refused to come. Lute sprang lightly up onto the spring seat, then reached a hand down for her. She stretched to put her foot on the high step and he hauled her up to sit on his lap, her back snug against his chest.

His gloved hands worked the controls of the machine and it began to move. The engine didn’t sound so loud up here, or maybe she had become used to it. Lute steered between the rows of tall dried cornstalks. Nelda watched as the machine seemed to swallow them. She saw Lute glance from time to time in the mirror to check the ears of corn spewing out of the funnel and into the wagon behind.

She turned so that she could speak close to his ear.

“How do you take the corn off the cob?”

“I have a corn sheller up at the house. It takes off the corn and discards the cob,” he explained almost grudgingly, she thought.

At the end of the field, a man was waiting with an empty wagon. While they waited for the full wagon to be taken away and the empty one connected, Lute was silent. The arms around her held her loosely. The hard thighs she was sitting on could just as well have been a bench.

Why is he acting like this?
Nelda fretted silently.
He’s sorry he asked me to come. Lute, please don’t shut me out. I can share your life. I know I can
.

“I’ve started making my block prints,” she volunteered. She had to make him talk to her. In a few short minutes they would be back at the fence where they’d left Kelly. She probably wouldn’t see him again for weeks. “I had my screens burned in Mason City,” she continued, her lips close to his ear. “I think you’d like them. They’re earthy—corn, milkweed pods, wild tiger lilies, and even thistle.”

“Thistle? Strange you find something pretty about thistle. We have to spray constantly to keep it out of the fields.”

His words were cynical, and they hurt. Uneasy silence hung between them. Uncertain how to deal with his mood, she tried to keep a tremor out of her voice as she acknowledged, “I didn’t know that.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” This time there was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice.

Nelda drew in a deep breath, deciding to say no more. They reached the end of the field; Lute swung the machine in a wide arc, stopping beside the fence.
Kelly barked and wiggled and tried to get through the small wire squares to reach them.

Lute held on to her hand and lowered her to the ground, then jumped down.

“It’s not as exciting as a taxi ride, but it’s all we’ve got to offer.”

“It was wonderful. I loved it. Don’t you get awfully cold out here all day?” Nelda was determined not to react to Lute’s sarcasm.

“This isn’t cold. I’ve picked when it was twenty below.”

“Thank you.” She started to move away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him.

“You forgot to pay the driver. Nothing in this life is free, not even here in the middle of a cornfield.”

He crushed her to him so hard the air exploded from her lungs. His mouth found hers. His lips were cold, but warmed against hers. His hands gripped her arms ruthlessly, almost as though he wanted to hurt her, but then gradually they gentled. His lips softened, and he kissed her again.

Nelda forced herself to stand quietly in his embrace, straining to conceal the wild, tremulous sensations that swamped her. Presently he loosened his arms and held her away from him to look down into her face. His expression was grim and hard.

“You seeing Hutchinson now?”

“When I need to know something about the farm.” She forced herself to answer calmly.

“Business is usually taken care of in his office. He’s a good catch, you know. The day after he buried
his wife, half the single women in town were taking him food and offering to clean his house.”

“That was nice of them,” she said quietly.

“He’s more your type than a farmer, huh?”

Nelda’s temper began to rise. She jerked away from him. “What do you care, Lute? You don’t want me.”

She left him without a backward glance, but she knew that he watched her climb back over the fence. Thank goodness, she managed to get to the other side without getting her jeans caught again. She untied Kelly, and they continued their walk down the road. Behind her she heard the tractor pulling the corn picker roar into action.

• • •

During the next couple of weeks the landscape around the farm changed dramatically. Gone were the fields of yellow cornstalks. When Nelda went to town, she no longer needed to slow down at the “corn” intersections; she was able to see for a quarter of a mile in either direction.

This morning she had called Linda and suggested they meet for lunch.

“I’d rather meet you at the library, Nelda.”

“The library will be fine with me. There are a couple of books I’d like to pick up anyway.”

The public library was across from the Congregational Church. The librarian was friendly and helpful. Nelda found the books she wanted and took them to a far table to wait for Linda.

Linda hurried in right on time. Her face was rosy from the cold.

“I didn’t think about your having to walk. I could have picked you up.”

“It wasn’t bad walking. I don’t even mind the snow, but I hate it when it’s all icy.” Linda took off her coat and put it on the back of a chair.

“I was hoping you’d call or come out.”

Linda sat down and put her hands over her face. “I was too ashamed.”

“Ashamed? Why?”

“The way Kurt was . . . that night. He’d had a little too much to drink.”

“I knew that. Forget it. I asked Mr. Hutchinson about scholarships, and he said that he thought one could be arranged.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You made all A’s in high school. I’m sure that’s what will get you one . . . if you decide to go.”

“Oh, Lord. I do want to go. Eric’s in school a half a day. My neighbor would watch him the other half. Next year he’ll go all day.”

“Call the hospital and find out how to go about getting into a class, then go see Mr. Hutchinson. He’s really a nice man. He’ll help you.” Nelda reached out and put her hand on Linda’s.

“Yes, he is nice. If you don’t get back with Lute, he would be . . . right for you.”

“Hey, now. What are you, the town matchmaker?” Nelda laughed, trying to lighten Linda’s mood.

“I’m being selfish. I want to keep you here. I’ve not had a friend of my own for a long time.”

They spent the rest of their time together looking for books on nursing. The librarian helped and by the time they were ready to leave, Linda had picked out three books on nursing and two children’s books for Eric.

Nelda offered to take her home.

“No, but thanks. I passed the garage where Kurt works. He’ll be looking to see what time I go back home.”

“Linda?” Nelda tilted her head quizzically.

Linda laughed nervously, and her cheeks reddened.

“I’m used to him. Don’t worry about it.”

On the way back to the farm, Nelda noticed that she was low on gas and stopped at the service station on the edge of town. She saw several boys inside the building, and she waited for one to come out. When one did, he strolled leisurely, calling to his friends back over his shoulder. Nelda rolled down the window.

“Fill it please.”

He took off the gas cap, put the nozzle in tank, leaned close to the window.

“Does that dog bite?”

“Put your hand inside, and you’ll find out.”

“He’d get a load of buckshot if he bit me.”

“He’d not bite you unless you were trespassing.”

“You still out there on Lute’s farm?”

“I’m out there on
my
farm.” Surprised by the question, Nelda turned and met his eyes head-on. His traveled over her, then returned to her face. Nelda
wanted to laugh. The kid was flirting with her. “Why do you ask?”

“I keep track of all the good-looking women who come to town. Need any company out there?”

“How come you’re not in school?” She felt a need to put him in his place.

“School?” He laughed cockily. “You mean college.”

“I mean high school. You can’t be old enough for college.” Nelda turned up the volume on the car radio. The Everly Brothers were singing, “Wake up, Little Susie.”

When the tank was full, the boy removed the nozzle and hung it back on the pump. While he fiddled with the gas-tank cap, Nelda took a bill from her purse and held it out the window. When he snatched it from her hand, a grin twitched her lips. He returned with her change and shoved it into her outstretched hand without looking at her. Nelda laughed out loud as she drove away.

That night she received her first obscene phone call.

• • •

It was cold.

She watched the ten o’clock news and waited for the weather report. The weatherman in the uniform of the Shell Oil Company, pretended to climb the mythical Shell Weather Tower inside the studio to give the forecast.

“The rain that started an hour ago is turning to sleet. The temperature is falling here at the Shell
Tower,” he said. “Expect icy conditions by morning.”

“Now isn’t that great?” Nelda said to Kelly. “We’re going to be housebound. I don’t intend to venture out on the ice.”

She was at the top of the stairs when the phone rang. It was ten-thirty.

“You go on up to bed, Kelly. If that’s Aldus Falerri, I’m going to tell him that I’m the maid and ‘puss’ has gone to China. Hello.”

“Hello, yourself.” It was a muffled male voice.

“Who is this?”

“Someone who’d like to be there with you.”

“What are you talking about? Who is this?”

“It’s a cold night. You sleepin’ alone?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You need a man in your bed, sweet thing.”

“What . . . what did you say?” Nelda wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

“You got on your nightgown, ain’t ya? Reach up under it and poke your finger—”

Nelda slammed down the receiver. She placed her hands against her hot cheeks and started up the stairs. The phone rang again as she reached the top. She stood waiting for it to stop. After fifteen rings she went back downstairs and jerked up the receiver. The man spoke without waiting for her to say anything.

“You know what I’m playin’ with? Guess. It’s big and hard and—”

“You pervert! If you call here again, I’ll call the police.”

“No, ya won’t.” He laughed. “Are ya curly down there like ya are on top?”

Nelda slammed down the receiver, then lifted it and laid it on the counter. After checking the doors to make sure they were locked, she went up to bed only to lie awake wondering about the calls. It wasn’t anyone she knew or had met, she was almost sure of that. The voice didn’t sound like the boy at the filling station. She would like to think that the caller had dialed her number at random, but the second call ruled that out. Her name wasn’t even in the phone book. She mulled over the possibilities until finally sleep came.

Kelly’s excited bark awakened her. He raced from the room and down the stairs. Then she heard the pounding on the kitchen door. Nelda reached for the light and turned the switch. Nothing. The electricity was off, and someone was at the door. Could it be that awful person who had called her? Frightened, she got out of bed, felt her way to the closet, and put on her heavy robe. Why hadn’t she thought to take the flashlight out of the car?

The pounding on the door continued, now accompanied by Kelly’s barks. With her heart racing, she groped her way down the stairs. The dog was at the kitchen door, whining a welcome to someone. The beam from a flashlight shone through the window.

“Nelda!” Lute’s voice. “Nelda—”

Weak with relief, she reached the door and
unlocked it. Lute stomped into the kitchen. The first thing he said was, “Get some shoes on.”

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock

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