Dorothy Garlock (12 page)

“Didn’t say it was. I just don’t see why we have to pay a man for sleepin’ on the job four hours a day. It ought to be taken out of his pay. Our government is a joke.”

“Will Rogers says that he don’t make jokes, he watches the government and reports the facts.” Bob stuck his tongue in his cheek and waited for Stoney’s response. He was disappointed to get only a snort of disgust from him.

Corbin listened to the conversation and wondered if Stoney was the only lawman in Henderson. If so, he understood why Marshal Sanford wanted him to hang around and see what he could find out.

Corbin’s mind drifted to Annabel Lee Donovan and he wondered if she was named after the girl in Poe’s poem. He remembered having to memorize it in school.

She
was a child and
I
was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

“Where you from, mister?” The barber broke into Corbin’s thoughts.

“Over near Springfield.”

“Never been that far west. I’ve always lived along the river.”

Corbin let the conversation lag. He watched as the man in the other chair got up, put on his hat and left.

“He’s been comin’ to the shop regular as clockwork lately,” Stoney remarked as soon as the door closed.

“His business, Stoney,” the barber replied. He shook the cloth, then got out the broom and swept hair into a pile in the corner.

“Monkey business. He was gettin’ hisself all smelly up nice for that woman he’s seein’ down on Cedar Street.”

“What woman?” The ears of the barber working on Corbin perked up. “There aren’t any single women on Cedar Street that I know of.”

“Is Alex Lemon sleepin’ with another married woman, Stoney?” Bob asked and stood the broom in the corner. “The damn fool has broke up one family already.”

“How about his own?” the other barber asked. “He’s got a nice little wife and two kids. His woman can’t be so dumb she don’t know what’s going on.”

Stoney ignored the conversation, opened the paper and continued to read.

Chapter
8

I
SHOULDN’TA TOOK YA. I shoulda let the boy take the truck and go in by hisself.” They were seated at the supper table.

“Why shouldn’t you have taken me? Did I do something to embarrass you?”

“No.” He glared at her. “Murphy won’t like it a bit when he finds out you were seen in town in that rat trap of a truck.”

Boone had stayed away from the house after they returned from town and had only come in to supper after Annabel went to the barn and urged him to come in and eat.

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Has he ever took you to town in the truck?”

“You know he hasn’t. He takes me in the car.”

“See there? See there? That’s what I’m talkin’ about. He’s got his sights set high for ya bein’ kind of highfalutin and havin’ folks seein’ ya in that rat-trap truck ain’t how he wants ’em to think of ya.”

“That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. Boone, are you sure you feel all right?”

“Just wait till he hears. He’ll rake both of us over the coals.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. He was suddenly dreading the return of Mr. Donovan. Was he so high-toned that he would be angry that Annabel went to town in the truck?

“I’ve decided to go to the concert Sunday afternoon. If you don’t take me in the truck, I’ll have to walk or ride one of the horses.” Annabel dished up the peach cobbler and brought a pitcher of cream to the table before she sat down. Over Boone’s head she winked at Jack. “Jack, tell me about Mr. Appleby. Was he a longtime friend of your family?”

“You might say that.”

Annabel glanced sideways at Jack and then at Boone. The boy kept his head down.

“How long?”

“Ya might as well tell her, boy.” Boone reached for the sugar bowl. “She’s goin’ to pick at ya till ya tell her what she wants to know.”

“What’s that?” Annabel asked. “What are you two trying to keep from me?”

“Appleby was a lawman back in Fertile. Could still be a lawman, far as I know,” Boone said grumpily. “He’s got a easygoin’ mouth and eyes like a hawk.”

“He was the police chief in our town,” Jack said. “But he quit after he got the man who killed the girl he’d been going to marry. It was a shock to folks in town when they found out there was a murderer among us. The man had fooled everyone, even me. He could be nice as pie but really was a terrible man and had done a lot of bad things.”

“Thank you, Jack. That’s more information than I’d’ve gotten out of Boone in a month.” Annabel sent Boone a cynical smile, then tilted her head to listen. “Do I hear a car?”

Boone got quickly to his feet and went to the door. Annabel crowded in close behind him. Boone blocked the door until a big black car rounded the house and stopped beside the back porch.

“It’s Murphy,” Boone said, stepping out of the way.

“Papa!” Annabel dashed out onto the porch and waited for the big, dark-haired man to get out of the car.

“Hello, darlin’. You got some supper for your papa?” He came up the porch steps and hugged his daughter. He had a stubble of beard on his face and his clothes were rumpled.

“I’m glad you’re home, Papa.”

“I’m glad to be here.”

“You were gone a long time.”

“I know, darlin’.” His eyes looked past her and found Jack. Annabel felt the arm around her tense.

“Papa, this is Jack Jones. He’s helping me put in a garden.”

“You don’t say? A garden, huh?”

“Glad to make your acquaintance.” Jack wasn’t sure what to do. He seemed to be pinned to the floor by a pair of piercing dark eyes that finally swung back to Boone.

“Things all right around here?” The question clearly referred to Jack’s presence.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pen up the chickens.” Jack began to edge around the two big men.

“Chickens?” Murphy looked to Boone again.

“And a cow,” Annabel added happily.

“A cow?” Murphy echoed, then began to laugh. “She talked you into getting a cow?” He spoke to Boone with his arm across his daughter’s shoulders.

Boone moved out of the way so that Jack could go down the porch steps and didn’t answer until the boy had disappeared into the barn.

“Yeah, a cow. I’d like to see ya stand against yore girl when she’s got her neck bowed and her head set on havin’ her way.”

“I think it’s a good idea. Chickens, a cow and horses. Looks like we’re real farm folk.” His big hand squeezed Annabel’s shoulder. “I’m hungry as a bear, darlin’. I’ve not eaten since morning. I was in a hurry to get here.”

“I’ll have you something in three shakes of a dog’s tail.” Annabel hurried to the kitchen, leaving her father with Boone.

Murphy’s eyes held Boone’s. “The boy?”

“He’s all right. Been good for Annabel to have him here. I’ll fill ya in after ya’ve et. Go give some time to Annabel. She’s been frettin’ ’bout ya.”

“Is he wantin’ me to leave?”

Jack spoke worriedly to Boone when he came to sit beside him on a box near the barn door. Boone had had a long talk with Murphy. He told him about finding Appleby shot beside his car and about his being a former lawman looking for the boy. He told about Jack’s being sick and coming to the house. After listening to Boone’s report that two loads of whiskey had gone out and that Spinner was expecting the barge bringing more down from Canada tonight, Murphy had gone back to the house.

“He didn’t say so,” Boone said in answer to Jack’s question. “I reckon ya can stay awhile and help Annabel with the garden. The girl means the world to him; and if she wants a garden, he’ll get her one come hell or high water.”

“After we get the garden in there won’t be much for me to do for a while. I’ll go to town and get a job of some sort. I’m not going back to Fertile until I get my baseball and my glove back.”

“How ya goin’ to do that?”

“There’s not a glove like it anywhere. I’ll know it when I see it. Corbin said that Henderson has a ball team. Someone may be using it. It’d be a glove to brag on.”

“Coulda been someone from upriver that stole it.”

“Or downriver.”

“Not much downriver but hill folks, and they ain’t much for playin’ ball.”

“They might have sold it to someone. Makes no difference, I’ll get it back.”

“Stubborn little cuss, ain’t ya?” Boone’s eyes had been focused on a light spot at the edge of the trees for the past few minutes. Someone was there watching the house. “Stay here, boy. I’m goin’ through the barn and out the back. Someone’s spyin’ on the house. I’m hopin’ it’s that clabberhead I met in the woods the day I went for the cow. I been wantin’ the chance to bust his head.”

“Is there anythin’ I can do?”

“Naw. Just sit here like you’re waitin’ for me to come back out.”

Boone walked slowly to the barn door and disappeared inside. Once inside, he hurried to the back entrance and peered out to see if he was visible to the one standing at the edge of the woods. When he was reasonably sure he couldn’t be seen, he hunkered down and went quickly to the brush that grew along the fence line that enclosed the cow pasture. He followed it until he could turn into the woods and come up behind the person watching.

Sounds amplified by the stillness of the forest drifted to Boone’s ears as he moved as quietly as possible. He heard the rustling of brush as some unknown creature sought to hide itself from him. He heard the sound of birds nesting in the trees and the far-off hoot of a train whistle. He moved swiftly and cautiously toward the unknown watcher.

He neared the tree line and saw the blur of white ahead. On closer inspection he became aware that it was the skirt of a woman’s dress held against the trunk of a large cottonwood by the slight breeze. He had expected it to be a Carter but not Tess Carter. Anger flowed out of him, and in its place a kind of excitement made his pulses race. He had thought about her. Now he pondered how to approach her without scaring the daylights out of her.

Watching her, he softly whistled a tune and saw her slip around to the other side of the tree. Fearing that she would bolt and run, he called out.

“Miss Tess, it’s me … Boone. Can I talk to you for a minute or two?” There was no answer. He waited for a moment, then he said, “I won’t come any closer than you want me to.”

When she didn’t speak, he made a wide circle around the tree and approached it from the front so that she could see him. He stopped a dozen feet from her.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m sorry I scared you. I saw someone over here and didn’t know who it was.”

“I was … just looking.”

“I know that.” Boone laughed a little. “Ye’re welcome to come over anytime ya want.”
Good Lord, he was as nervous as a kid meeting a girl for the first time.

“I couldn’t.”

“Annabel would like it if you did.”

“I couldn’t,” she said again. “Will your brothers be out lookin’ for ya?”

“They’ve gone off somewhere.”

“Aren’t ya afraid out here in the woods by yourself?”

“What’s there to be afraid of?”

“Some no-good son-of-a—some man might catch ya out here by yoreself.”

“No one ever came through here but Carters until you.”

“Ya’ve nothin’ to fear from us. Annabel liked you. She’s hopin’ ya’ll come callin’ again. She gets lonesome.”

“She’s pretty and … nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Are you going to marry her?”

“Marry Annabel?” He laughed again. “I’m almost old enough to be her pa.”

“That don’t make no never mind to some folks.”

“She’d think it funny you’d think that.”

There was a long silence, then Tess said, “I didn’t mean to make a … funny.”

“I meant strange. Annabel’d think it strange anyone would think that. I’ve known her since she was ’bout this high.” He held his hand out even with his waist.

“You’re fond of her.”

“Yeah. She’s like my own kid … if I had one. I hope she’ll find a good man someday, get married and have kids of her own.”

“If he’s not a good man what’ll you do?”

Boone came closer to where she was standing with her back to the tree.

“I’ll beat hell outta him … if there was anythin’ left after her pa got through with him.”

“She’s lucky.” Tess’s voice was a mere whisper. “Do you have a beau?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Why not? You’re a pretty girl.”

“No, I’m not!” She frowned. “I’m old.”

“Old? Are you fifty?”

She almost smiled. “I’m twenty-seven.”

“I’ve lived exactly ten years longer than you have. Do you think that’s old?”

“Not for a man.”

“I like talking to you.” Boone was near enough now that he could see her face clearly. He looked at her, letting his eyes wander over her face. Her breathing was jerky, but she didn’t move or say anything for a long moment. When she did, it was a low, breathless whisper.

“I don’t have much to talk about.”

“Tell me about you. How long have you lived here with your brothers?”

She shook her head, then said, “Long time.”

“Have ya always lived here?”

She shook her head again. “I lived up north in Minnesota for a while,” Boone said, wanting to keep her talking.

“I know where it is.”

“It gets pretty cold up there.”

“It’s by Canada.”

“My sister lives in Minnesota.”

“I don’t have a sister. Just brothers.”

“Tess, do you ever go to town?”

She shook her head. “Marvin won’t let me.”

“Why not?”

“Ah … he—” Embarrassed, she looked away from Boone.

“Will you meet me here again so we can talk?”

“Just talk?” She tilted her head and looked into his face. “Just talk. Don’t be afraid that I’ll force myself on you, Tess. I won’t. I swear it.”

“Marvin swears to things. It don’t mean anything.”

“I’m not Marvin,” Boone said firmly. “My word is my bond.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when I give my word, I keep it.”

“All right.”

“You’ll meet me?”

“I don’t know when they’ll be gone.”

“What would happen if I came to the house to call on ya?”