Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (11 page)

“I’ll take Punkie to her Aunt Opal and hope that Becky’s sister wants her.”

“Oh, she will. How could she not want her sister’s little girl?”

“I sent her a wire. She said to bring her, but they may not take to each other. Opal may be like Punkie’s mother.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. You’re too polite to ask, so I’ll tell you that Punkie’s mother was … not very motherly. My brother was both mama and daddy to her.”

“That’s too bad. She loves you. Can’t you take her to your home and keep her if you’re not sure that Opal will be a good mother to her?”

“I can’t keep her on a horse ranch ten miles from a town without a woman to take care of her. And she needs to be where she can go to school. I have the money from my brother’s house, and this car belonged to him. I’ll sell it when we get to California and leave the money with Opal. Then I’ll send a little now and then, to help out.”

“My grandmother said that children need love or they’ll grow up like weeds and not flowers.”

“What are you? A rose? A daisy? I know, you’re a Missouri bluebonnet.” When he chuckled, she felt the vibration against her arm.

“I didn’t mean that I’m a flower. I’m more like a weed. A pesky one that pops up among the petunias!”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” He sniffed. “You smell like a honeysuckle vine.” His arm tightened.

Margie’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird loose in her chest. Her shoulder was tucked under his arm. She was pressed to his warm, hard body from hip to knee.

He reached for the hand in her lap. “If I kiss you, will you slap me or yell? I prefer the slap. You’ll wake Punkie if you yell.”

Surprised, she turned to look at him. His lips swooped down on hers. His kiss was hard and quick. A groan came from him when he lifted his head.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Ah … sweet girl! It didn’t do the trick.” He spoke in an agonized whisper.

Unable to utter a sound, she waited for him to explain.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you. I thought that once I’d kissed you, I’d get you out of my system.” He lifted her hand and pressed it palm-down over his heart. “Feel that? When I’m near you, it takes off like a wild mustang.”
And sweetheart, that’s not all that comes to attention, but I can’t tell you about that now.

“Maybe if I kissed you again, slowly, the ache would go away.” His whispered words were seductive, his breath warm on her wet lips.

“You could try … it.”

He turned her so that her breasts flattened against his chest, and he skipped his fingers up and down her spine. He ran his tongue over her lips, then kissed her soundly, deeply, passionately. His lips left her mouth, moved to her cheek, her closed eyes, her brow. Then, as if he couldn’t stay away, he kissed her parted lips again, knowing in some far corner of his mind that this wasn’t going to banish his thoughts of her.

He suddenly feared that he would never grow tired of kissing her. Liking to kiss her was one thing, he told himself. Being wildly in love with her was another. Loving a woman would be more dangerous to his peace of mind than falling into a bed of rattlesnakes. He’d not make the same mistake his brother made. Nosiree! He had learned firsthand what comes from a man giving a woman his heart and soul.

He lifted his head and laughed a little, afraid for her to know just how near he had come to falling in love with her. It was foolish to even think that they would hitch together even if he did decide that she was the one to share his life, but not his heart. All he had was half of a ragtag horse ranch, and she had dreams of Hollywood—of all places! He loosened his arms to allow her to lean back away from him.

“Well, now. We’ve got that out of the way.”

His words were like a dash of icy water. She felt them all the way to the tips of her toes. She took a deep breath before she could speak.

“Yeah, we did. Now I’ve got to get back.”

Brady got out of the car and took her hand to help her out. “Thanks for staying with Punkie.”

“You’re welcome. Good night.” Margie hurried away, tears of disappointment blinding her.

Now that she and Rusty were alone, Mona could think of nothing to say. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth. She hugged her sweater around her, for the evening breeze was still cool, and looked her fill of him, knowing that he wouldn’t know—or at least she didn’t think he would. He sat quietly with the shotgun beside him and Blackie’s head beneath his hand. Jody had built up the campfire before he left, and in the flickering light she could see Rusty’s eyes turn in her direction.

“Mona? Tell me what you see.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “You were looking at me.”

“How did you know?”

“I’d be looking at you … if I could see.”

“Your hair is dark red and … your hands are … nice.”

He held his hand out toward her. “Come closer. I don’t want our staked-out friends to hear what we say.”

She moved across the blanket to sit close, but not touching him. His hand came in contact with her upper arm. He moved it after he had touched her.

“Tell me what you look like. I already know that you’re pretty.”

“Who told you that?”

“Brady. He said if he was younger, he’d set his cap for you.”

“You’re kiddin’! He didn’t say that.”

“He did. He said you have brown hair. Do you mind if I touch it?”

“Ah … no.”

He took a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Then with the palm of his hand he stroked her hair from the crown of her head to the ends.

“It’s soft,” he said as if to himself. “And thick.”

“I usually wash it in rainwater.” Her heart was beating so fast she feared it would jump out of her chest.

“It feels like silk. May I touch your face?” he asked after he had threaded his forked fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck.

He touched her cheek and paused, waiting for permission to continue. She turned on her knees facing him and lifted his other hand to her face. Her breath caught as he ran his fingers over her chin, along her jaw, and stopped at her lips.

“Full on the bottom, thin on the top,” he whispered. “And unsmiling.” Then, “Ah … that’s how I imagined you. Lips tilting at the corners. Open your mouth … please.” He moved the knuckle of his forefinger along the edge of her teeth. “Nice and even,” he murmured.

His fingertips moved up the hollows of her cheeks and rested on the cheekbones. He trailed his fingers over her eyes and up to her brows, thick and straight.

“Big brown eyes,” he murmured.

“How do you know?”

“Brady said they were brown. I can feel that they are big.” With fingers from both hands at her temples he combed through her hair. “Thank you for letting me see you.” His hands moved over her shoulders and down her arms. “You’re not very tall.”

“How do you know?” She released a giddy laugh.
How many times had she said that?

“I just know. Your head will fit under my chin.”

“I’m taller than that.”

“Stand up and we’ll see. And don’t stand on your toes. That would be cheating.” After they had stood he grasped her upper arms and pulled her against him. Her chin touched his chest; his chin rested on the top of her head. She closed her eyes for one delicious moment. “See there,” he said. “I was right.”

Mona stepped back. “Brady told you.”

“No. Your shoulder touched mine about halfway between the top of my shoulder and my elbow that first night. I knew then about how tall you were.” He grasped her hand, and they sank back down onto the blanket.

“That’s remarkable! I don’t know how you know these things.”

“It’s not remarkable. When you can’t see, your other senses, such as touch and smell, kick in. I can tell by the smell of vanilla when Ma is stirring up a cake and from the yeast when she sets bread to rise. I can tell by holding your hand that in the past you’ve worked hard, but not recently, because the roughness on your palm is softening. I know the things your stepmother says to you hurt you and are lowering your self-esteem. Don’t let her do that to you.”

“I don’t know how to stop her,” she confessed. “Pa is so smitten with her.”

“He’s bound to come to his senses soon. Don’t let her get your goat. If you do, she’s won.”

Mona said nothing. She knew that what he said was true. They sat quietly while minutes passed, their clasped hands resting on the blanket between them. She wished that she had something interesting to say, but could not think of a thing. When she realized that she was holding on to his hand as if it were a lifeline keeping her from being swept away by a flood, she was embarrassed and relaxed her grip a little.

“How old are you, Mona?” His voice was soft and even. No wonder he sang so beautifully.

“Seventeen. I’ll be eighteen by the time we get to California. Jody is twenty.”

“Brady thought you were about sixteen.”

“I look young for my age because I don’t wear a lot of rouge and lipstick.”

“Paint? I’ve never seen a painted woman. If I have, I’ve forgotten about it.”

“How long have you …”

“Go ahead and say it. How long have I been blind? Since I was ten. I’m twenty-two now.”

“Then you remember what a lot of things look like.”

He smiled. “Yes, and it gives me an advantage. When something is described to me, I see it in color. My mother and father will never grow old. In my mind I see them as they were twelve years ago.”

“What do you miss the most?”

He thought for a minute before he answered. “I’d like to drive a car. I know I never will. I’m resigned to it. I’d like to
see
a picture show. I’ve
heard
a few. I went to ‘hear’
King Kong
. A friend and I sat up in the balcony, and he described it to me. It was exciting. Especially the last part when the ape was on the Empire State Building and the airplane was flying around. I’d sure like to know how the filmmaker did that.”

“I’ve not been to many picture shows.”

“I listen to the radio a lot. It puts me in contact with the whole world.” He pulled a heavy pocket watch from the bib of his overalls and held it to his ear. “I heard it chime the half hour a while ago. The time has gone fast. Our two hours are almost up.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chiming pocket watch.”

“I saved the money I earned playing my fiddle and singing for dances, weddings and even funerals. We ordered it from a company that imports from Germany. I doubt we’ll get much more from there, except maybe trouble now that fellow Hitler has taken over.”

“You know about a lot of things.”

“I’ve been showing off for you.” He laughed, his eyes on her face as if he were seeing her. “Do you think we can do this again?”

“What?” she said, pretending not to know. “Sit up and guard badmen?”

“You’re smiling.”

“You know everything!”

He tilted his head. “I know someone is coming toward us. I bet it’s Jody.” He held tightly to her hand and whispered as they stood. “Will you talk with me again?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s time I took over,” Jody said. “I set my alarm. I’ll walk you back to the car, sis.”

“Thanks for staying with me, Mona.”

“You’re welcome,” she murmured. Then nervousness struck her. She felt almost giddy. “Does Sugar know I stayed with him?” she asked her brother as they walked away.

“What do you care if she knows?”

“She’ll have something nasty to say about it.”

“Ignore her.”

“That’s easy for you to say. She’s not on you like she is on me.”

“Give her enough rope and she might hang herself. Pa will get his fill of her and come to his senses. If he doesn’t, I’ll get a job when we get to California, and we’ll strike out on our own.”

“He expects you to work in his ice business.”

“I’ll not work for him with her there.”

“Oh, Jody, what can we do?”

“Nothing right now. But a lot can happen between here and California.”

Chapter 8

T
HE EARLY MORNING SUN
was sending long fingers of light through the tops of the trees and shedding a pattern of lacy shadows on the campground when the three-car caravan pulled out. Anna Marie was with the Putmans again. Brady and Rusty stayed behind to wait for the sheriff. Grace’s worried eyes stayed on her son for as long as she could see him.

“Stop worrying,” Alvin urged.

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re the one who insisted that we not coddle him. He’s a man now, Gracie, not a boy. You’ve got to start treating him like one.”

“But we don’t know Brady very well. He’s never been around a person who’s blind. He told me so.”

“We’ve got to trust him to look after Rusty just like he’s trusting us to take care of Anna Marie.”

Grace looked down at the sleeping child in her lap, and the thought came to her that if Brady wanted to be rid of the little girl, this was his chance. He knew that she and Alvin would take her as their own. Oh, Lord! What if he drove off and left Rusty in that campground?

“He’s crazy about that kid,” Alvin was saying, as if he knew what was in her mind. “She’s the daughter of his twin. Did you know that?”

“She told me.” Grace stroked the hair back from the child’s face. “She said he looks just like her daddy and talks like him.”

“Poor little tyke.”

“She said sometimes she forgets he’s her uncle and not her daddy.”

“I wonder what happened to her parents. Brady hasn’t said.”

Grace placed her hand on her husband’s thigh. “I can’t help worrying about Rusty.”

“Well, stop it.” Alvin’s hand left the wheel and patted hers to soften his command.

“We both know that he’ll never be able to be completely on his own.”

“I’ve heard of other blind people who are, and he’s smart as any of them,” Alvin said defensively. “He should marry and have a family like any normal man.”

“He likes the Luker girl.”

“That’s a good sign. He likes Margie too.”

“Not like he likes Mona.”

“How do you know that, Miss Know-It-All?” Alvin teased.

“I just do. That’s all. I don’t want him to fall for her and have her break his heart.”