Authors: A Place Called Rainwater
“Hello. How are you this morning? ”He smiled, showing a gold-capped tooth.
“Fine, thank you. Did you find your room satisfactory? ”
“For a place like this, it was adequate. At least it was cleaner than it was the last time I stayed here.”
“And when was that? ”
“About two years ago. The town has changed.”
“Do you come through Rainwater often? ”
The mustache on his upper lip twitched. He leaned on the counter, bringing his face closer to hers. His hair smelled strongly of brilliantine.
“Would you be waiting for me if I did? ”His bold eyes moved down to her breasts.
“No. I'm just making polite conversation and waiting for you to pay me. That'll be seventy-five cents.”
“I'd pay two dollars for another night, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean.” Her voice lashed out at him like a whip. “I suggest you bring a tent the next time you come to town. This hotel will be full.”
Jill's eyes, which could shine with laughter or turn as cold as a frozen pond, gave him a dismissive stare. She lifted her brows as if he were beneath her contempt. They were dark, with lashes to match that contrasted with her blue eyes and blond hair.
“I'm a paying customer, sweetheart, and don't you forget it, ”he said with an unabashed grin.
“You're a cheating, low-life, rutting stud, is what you are. How many children is your wife taking care of while you wander about… if you know what I mean? ”Jill looked pointedly at the wedding band on his finger.
“Well, it was worth a try.” Showing no embarrassment at all, the drummer backed away, placed his coins on the counter, picked up his heavy case and without a word walked out the door.
“I guess we don't have to worry about him coming back or about you taking care of yourself.” The voice, followed by a low laugh, came from the hall, and Radna pulled a heavy iron skillet out from behind her skirt.
“Were you going to hit him with that? ”
“If I had to. I've done it before.”
“How long ago was it that this was a whorehouse? ”
“Four or five years ago. And don't let Justine hear you call it that. She considered it a rooming house for young ladies.”
“Yeah, sure. What did everyone else call it? ”
“A whorehouse.” Radna's laugh was like tinkling bells. “But not to Justine. That aunt of yours has a heart as big as all outdoors. A lot of people in this town are indebted to her. As far as I know, she never turned anyone away who was sick or needy.”
“When she wrote to Papa and asked if her namesake could come and help her out until she could get on her feet, he had no idea her hotel had been a place of ill repute or that his eldest sister would probably never get on her feet. He didn't want me to come, but Eudora, my stepmother, persuaded him that at almost twenty-one, I was old enough to make my own decisions.”
“Is Justine's name Jill? ”
“No. My name is Justine Jill Jones. All the kids in our family have names starting with the letter
J.
Mama's name was Jane and Papa's is Jethro. My sisters and brothers are Julie, Joe, Jack, Jason and Joy. In the town where we grew up, we are known as the
J
's.”
“Isn't that something? ”Understanding was in Radna's voice. “It sort of binds you all together.”
“Back on the farm it was one for all and all for one. If you ever messed with a Jones, you were in deep trouble with all the Joneses. My brother Joe is over near Tulsa. Eudora said she would write to him and tell him that I'm here and to come see me when he got over this way.”
Sudden spontaneous laughter erupted from Jill.
“Well, kiss my foot! What's tickled your funny bone? ”asked Radna.
“You, ”Jill said and giggled. “I'd like to see you in action with that skillet. Are you sure you can swing it? ”
“You bet! Ask Justine. I backed her up a few times when we had to get a drunk out of here.”
“I'd better go see about her.” Jill came from behind the counter. “She might have heard the ruckus on the porch.”
“Oh, she heard it, all right. Not much goes on here in the hotel that Justine doesn't know about.”
Justine Jones Byers settled in the chair beside the window looking out onto the side street. A year ago she'd had the energy of a twenty-year-old, but now she had to exert a major effort to negotiate the few steps to the chair. The thick wavy hair she had colored with henna was thin now and streaked with gray. The bright jewelry she loved lay forgotten in a bureau drawer.
As a bride, she had come to Oklahoma in 1907, the year it was admitted to the Union as the forty-sixth state. She and her new husband had lived in Bartlesville, Ponca City and Pawhuska before settling in Rainwater. Ralph Byers had been a dreamer, a man who had flitted from one business to the other seeking recognition and hoping to strike it rich.
Justine never did find out where he had found the money to build the hotel and didn't really want to know, but she suspected he had won it in a poker game. The hotel had provided them with a meager living, but it had given Ralph the prestige he needed so badly.
He had been mayor of the small town of three hundred citizens when he stepped out in front of an ice truck and was killed instantly. He would have been pleased to know that almost every person in the town attended his funeral. Later that same year the Byerses 'little three-year-old girl died of whooping cough.
Since that time Justine had had many opportunities to remarry, but Ralph had been her one and only love. And she had found satisfaction helping her “girls.”
Justine turned from the window when Jill came into the room. She had not been one bit disappointed in her namesake, just surprised that her brother, Jethro, had allowed his daughter to come. Most people considered Oklahoma a land of wild Indians, outlaws and empty prairie land. Justine loved the openness, the rawness and the variety of people who lived in the state formally known as Indian Territory.
Jill reminded Justine of herself at age twenty. Although she hadn't been nearly as pretty as her niece, she'd been just as ready to command the world with a buggy whip. Jill's wavy mass of wheat-colored hair ended just below her jawbone, accentuating her high cheekbones and the pure cream of her skin. She had a generous mouth, full-lipped and red, with a charming uplift at the corners. Her slim young body moved with vibrancy, yet with the grace of wind on prairie grass. It was her personality Justine admired the most. Her niece had backbone and a mouth to go with it. She'd not be pushed around.
“Did I hear you calling someone buzzard bait? ”Justine wheezed when she spoke.
“I can think of a lot more names to call him. His name was Skeeter-something-or-the-other and he spit on my clean porch.”
“Skeeter Ridge. He knows better than that. I'd have whopped him alongside the head.”
“I bathed him with my dirty mop water.”
Justine smiled. “Good for you. I've run him off that porch more than once.”
“Not to hear him tell it.” Jill noticed her aunt's hands lying loosely in her lap. “When is the doctor coming again? ”
“That old quack? ”Justine scoffed. “Old fool admitted that he didn't know what the hell was wrong with me. Just losing strength, he said. Well, Christ Almighty. I already knew that.”
“Aunt Justine, why don't we go to Tulsa? The doctors there may be able to operate or…something.” Jill squatted down beside her aunt's chair.
“Honey, they can't do any more for me than Dr. Russell. I want to stay right here. This is my home. Besides, I don't think I could stand the trip.”
“Are you sure? Doctors can do great things now.”
“There is nothing they can do for me. Old Doc isn't the smartest man in the world, but he was honest with me. He didn't know what was causing my trouble, but he'd heard of a case like mine. Creeping paralysis, he called it. I've already lost the strength in my hands — can't hold a water glass. It's affected my arms, my feet and my legs just like he said it would. I'm at peace with what's to come and thankful that I'm not in terrible pain.” She looked first at the limp hands lying in her lap and then at Jill. “I regret that I'm so much trouble.”
“When you take care of someone dear to you, it's not trouble.” Jill patted Justine's hand.
“I'm so glad you're here.” There was a tear in Justine's voice.
“I'm glad, too. Can I get you something? ”
“You can brush my hair. The brush is over there on my dresser.”
Jill fetched the hairbrush, moved behind the chair and drew the brush through her aunt's hair.
“That feels good.” Justine sighed contentedly. “I've not been able to brush my own hair for months.”
“When you feel up to it, I'll bring in a pan of rainwater and wash it.” Jill stroked the gray-streaked hair from her aunt's scalp to the ends. “Would you like for me to make you a couple of pigtails? ”
“Ralph used to call me his little squaw when I braided my hair.”
“It must have been wonderful to be so much in love as you were.”
“When I first saw him, I knew that he was the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. I went after him and never regretted it for a minute.” A little laugh caught in her throat. “Don't ever settle for second best, honey, when it comes to choosing your life's mate. Get a man who'll want you to stand beside him and not behind him.”
“I've not seen anyone yet that I'd want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“You will.” Justine chuckled and her eyes lit up. “It'll happen when you least expect it.”
“Aunt Justine, do you really think I should go to the town meeting tonight? ”
“It's a merchants 'meeting. You've got as much right to have your say as any of them. This hotel may not be fancy, but it's been here a lot longer than most businesses and it's important to the town.”
“I'll go and listen, but I doubt if I'll say anything.”
“I used to enjoy the meetings.” Justine's body was losing its strength, but her mind was sharp. “How many paying guests did we have last night? ”
“Eight with the three on the weekly rate.”
“You wouldn't have any trouble renting out more on a weekly basis. It's sure money. But you have to leave at least seven rooms open for travelers or Byers wouldn't be considered a hotel.”
“I'm learning about the hotel business. Aunt Justine, why have you not offered meals? ”
“Martha, who owns the restaurant across the street, nursed me through a time when I didn't know if I wanted to live or die. I don't want to take any of her business. Besides, it would be too much work for Radna.”
“You think a lot of Radna, don't you? ”
“You bet. She was the nearest thing to kin I had until you came. I wish she could find a good man who would appreciate her, ”Justine said wistfully. “A woman isn't complete without a mate.”
“There are plenty here to choose from.”
“Radna makes no bones about her colored blood. That narrows the field considerably.”
“I'd never have guessed it and was surprised when she told me. I thought she was only part Indian.”
“She is …mostly. She loved her mother and won't deny her blood.”
“Aunt, will Martha be at the merchants 'meeting? I don't want to be the only woman there.”
“I expect she will. She and Flora Hadley usually go. Why don't you go over and ask her? ”
“I think I will.
“Call Radna, honey. She'll help you get me up from this chair, and I'll lie down.”
J
ILL FELT CONFIDENT IN A FRESHLY IRONED
blue print dress with a ruffled oval neckline and a calf-length full skirt, but she was glad for the company of the big woman who ran Martha's Restaurant. They made their way down the wooden walk bordering the unpaved main street of Rainwater. This was the busy section of town. They had to pass through it in order to reach the schoolhouse, where the meeting would be held.
Day or night, there was activity on the streets of Rainwater and even more on Saturday night. Jill wondered if everyone in the entire county had come to town. Loitering on the walks were roustabouts, loafers, roughnecks, men looking for work and gamblers looking for a card game where they hoped to fleece a greenhorn out of his week's pay. Welders, riggers and drillers, in overalls made stiff by wet clay and oil, mingled with men in broadcloth suits who had angle-parked their cars along the street.
Jill was careful not to make eye contact with any of the men she and Martha passed on the street. For the most part the men were hardworking and missed the families they had left back home. But there were some rowdies in the crowd who roamed the street. A man leaning against a porch post called out as the two women passed.
“Hey, Skeeter. Isn't that the little wildcat who chased you off the hotel porch? ”
Jill gave the man a scornful glance, then recognized him as one of the roustabouts who had witnessed her temper tantrum that morning. She couldn't hold back a grin. The man laughed and tipped his hat in a respectful manner.
“This li'l wild … cat can ch … hase me off her porch any day.” The man who spoke fell in step with Jill.
“You're drunk, Bert. Beat it, ”Martha ordered sharply. She was a robust woman with a don't-fool-with-me attitude.
“Shome on, Marthy. I ain't sheen a woman this purty since I come to Texas.”
“This isn't Texas, Bert. It's Oklahoma. Now skedaddle or I'll lay a fist alongside your head.”
“Be nice, Marthy, I ain't goin 'to hurt 'er. Jist wanta look at 'er.”
“Are you ladies going to the meeting at the school-house? ”A tall man wedged himself between Jill and the drunk. “May I walk along with you? ”
Jill thought he was another masher and jerked her elbow from his grasp. When she looked up, he had put his fingers to the brim of his hat.
“You need a little help getting through that crowd, ma'am. Hunter Westfall at your service. Will you allow me the pleasure of escorting you? ”
“Thank you, ”Jill murmured, then turned her eyes away from the narrow, clean-shaven face and light tawny gold eyes. He was a handsome man and prosperous, judging by the cut of his black suit and tan felt hat.
“We need more places where the men can go to get off the streets. Don't you agree? ”