Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (32 page)

The trucks ahead slowed until they were creeping along. When they hit the dirt and gravel road, flourlike dust, stirred by the wheels, swirled up behind them. Margie rolled up the window. Brady backed away to allow more space between them and the truck ahead.

The going was slow for what seemed to be miles and miles, and the heat inside the car became wicked. Anna Marie’s head was wet with sweat. Margie cooled her face with the cardboard fan Brady pulled from under the seat.

“This heat gives me a powerful thirst.” Brady wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

Margie reached for the fruit jar she had wrapped in a towel. “The ice is gone, but there’s a little tea left.”

“You drink first.”

Margie took a swallow and passed the jar to Brady. She watched as he tilted his head to drink. Her eyes took in every detail of his profile. When he finished, he held out the jar. Bright green eyes from beneath a brush of brows as dark as his windblown hair smiled at her. She took the jar from his hand, screwed the top back on and set it on the floor. She hoped desperately that he didn’t know how her heart was behaving.

It was a blessed relief when the car bumped over a ridge and onto a patch of newly paved highway.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Margie said, and rolled down the window.

“We’ll hit a lot of dirt roads before we get to Albuquerque.”

“Have you been over this road before?”

“Not here. I was on a little patch west of Albuquerque. We should be in Tucumcari in a couple of hours. I hope Alvin knows where to find the campground.”

“Will it be dark then? The days are getting longer.”

“Just about dark, I think. I was dreading this long day, but it’s gone fast.” He looked across the intervening space between them. “You should ride with us every day.”

“That would never do, and you know it.”

“Why not?”

“Well …” She paused and bit down on her lower lip. “Because I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and so do you. You’ve got to decide if you’re going to turn off at Albuquerque. We can’t do any thinking sitting here chatting.”

“What are you trying to decide? I thought you’d made up your mind to see Hollywood.”

“That’s what I wanted to do when I left Missouri. You think that it’s a silly girl’s shallow dream, don’t you?”

“I don’t know about that. If seeing Hollywood is something you always dreamed of, I don’t think it’s shallow. We all have our dreams. Mine is to raise a quarter horse that is smarter than its rider. At times I’ve thought that wouldn’t be too hard to do.” His lips quirked in a smile.

“I dreamed about Hollywood because I lived in a town of three hundred stretched along the highway. I worked in a café and saw maybe two movies a year. I had to have a dream, a goal, or my dull life would have been unbearable.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m facing reality. I’m alone in a strange land. I’ve got to think about a job. Before we left home I had the notion that if I could just get to California, a job would be waiting for me. I’d see the sights and put some excitement in my life. Now I see all these people going there with the same sort of hopes. The place must be as crowded as fleas on a dog’s back. It’s scary.”

Margie drew in a deep breath. She was appalled that she had revealed so much to this man who would break her heart if she wasn’t careful. She was too embarrassed to look at him and kept unseeing eyes turned toward the window.

“So what is it you’ve got to think about?”

“I’ve got to think about what I want to do after I find Goldie and give her Elmer’s money and his truck. Do I want to stay near Bakersfield? Grace and Alvin said it would be nice if I settled near them. I would know someone. I’m not sure now that I want to use what little money I have and go on to a more uncertain future in Hollywood.”

“Elmer’s wife left him. Some would say that you are entitled to his money and his truck.”

Margie turned, stared at his profile and spoke coolly. “And give proof to what he said about me being a thief? No, thank you.”

Anna Marie stirred, then sat up. “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet, honey.” Margie smoothed the hair back from her face. “You slept a long time.”

“Can I sit on your lap?”

“Sure you can.” After she was cuddled in Margie’s lap, the child pressed her cheek against Margie’s shoulder. “Don’t go back to sleep, puddin’, or you won’t want to sleep tonight.”

Brady’s eyes left the road to glance at the woman bent over the little girl in her lap. She was murmuring to her and kissing her forehead. He felt a twinge in the region of his heart. Anna Marie had never known a mother’s love as he and Brian had. Unlike Becky, Margie appeared to be a woman with mating and nesting instincts who would build her life around her family.

Had he been able to read Margie’s thoughts, Brady would have been surprised to know that she was wishing with all her heart that this was her little girl. She would give all the love bottled up inside her to this child and to the man beside her if he wanted it. She would put her heart and soul into making a home for them, taking care of them, loving them.

Good Lord! What was she thinking? She’d better get those notions out of her head, or she was in for a rough time ahead.

She looked up to meet Brady’s gaze until he focused again on the road. Each was quiet except for the turmoil going on inside. The late afternoon light illuminated Brady’s tired face, showing the dark cast of a day-old beard and, in that one quick glimpse, the hungry, anxious look in his eyes. Her heart slammed against her rib cage so hard she could hardly breathe.

Even when she closed her eyes, Margie could see his face behind her eyelids.
She had to stop thinking about him as if he could even possibly be a permanent part of her life.
The chances were good that he would leave the caravan at Albuquerque and she would never see him again. A feeling of emptiness shot through her at the thought.

It was dusk when Alvin led them into a large field on the edge of Tucumcari. Margie almost groaned when she saw that it was full of campers. Cars, trucks and wagons were spread out over a couple acres. Supper fires that burned in front of some camps were sending up a trail of smoke. Other campers were using small kerosene stoves. Rocking chairs had been unloaded, and women sat in them nursing their babies while men gathered, squatted on their heels and talked of the dust storms back home and their hope of finding a better life for their families in the fertile fields of California.

When Alvin stopped, Jody parked the truck behind him. Brady pulled up and parked parallel to Alvin, and Foley parked behind Brady parallel to Jody. They were a tight group of four vehicles. It was in areas like this that Margie saw the wisdom of traveling in a caravan.

At the far end of the field were two ramshackle out-houses. To reach them, they would have to pass through the camp where men without families lounged beside low rag tents and old cars. After Grace had held a whispered conversation with Alvin, he motioned to the men and they walked a distance away, stopped and appeared to be looking things over. Grace took a granite chamber pot and a blanket from the back of the truck.

“I don’t like the looks of them outhouses or where they’re at.” Grace wrinkled her nose. “We’ll make our own right here between the cars and the trucks.”

Anna Marie thought it was great fun to use the pot while Mona and Margie held up the blanket to give her privacy.

It had been the longest day of their trip. They had covered a hundred and eighty miles. Everyone was tired. It was Brady’s idea to pool what they had and have a cold supper. Alvin set up the kerosene stove, and Grace made coffee. Margie and Brady supplied the meat and bread they had bought at the store in Amarillo, and Foley brought out a box of crackers and a large chunk of cheese. It was dark by the time they finished eating.

The caliber of the people at the campground made the men uneasy. They cautioned the women not to go behind the cars unless they all went. Blackie, ever watchful, growled menacingly when another dog wandered too close. Cars came and went. Two men on horseback approached, gave them the eye and moved on.

“I don’t like this place.” Mona sat beside Rusty on a quilt. Earlier she had described the camp to him in detail. Now, holding his hand in her lap, unconcerned that their parents were nearby, she whispered to him when there was something of interest he couldn’t see.

Sneaking sly glances at the couple, Grace thanked God for the girl who was opening up a whole new world for her boy. Since meeting Mona, he seemed to have more confidence and be less self-conscious about his blindness. If they parted when they reached California, he would at least have had this happy experience.

Margie, with Anna Marie on her lap, sat in the canvas chair. Around them were the usual camp sounds: a crying child, a barking dog, drunken laughter and, occasionally, a male voice raised in anger. The group gathered beside Alvin’s truck was like a family to Margie, a family she had not had since her granny died. Even then there had been only the two of them.

O Lord, I’m so glad that I’m here and not alone on a bus going to some unknown place.

Her eyes often sought Brady where he lounged on the ground beside Foley. Most of the time when she looked at him, his face was turned toward her. When she realized that he had been looking at her steadily for some time, her cheeks turned warm. She quickly looked away and made a to-do about pulling Anna Marie’s dress down over her legs.

“We should keep a watch tonight.” Alvin spoke softly as Blackie stood, his tail straight out, and peered off in the darkness. “Son,” he said to Rusty, “better keep Blackie close. He’s actin’ like there’s a bitch in heat nearby. He might decide to go courtin’.”

“Sit, Blackie,” Rusty commanded.

“There’s probably fifty people in this camp, not countin’ the kids. We look to be the most prosperous folks here. The trucks could be a mighty big temptation to someone with bootleggin’ in mind.” Brady struck a match on the sole of his boot and lit a cigarette.

“I’ve been thinking that we probably shouldn’t set up any sleeping tents,” Foley added. “I’d rather be out in the open where I can see what’s going on.”

Margie spoke. “Mona can sleep on the box in the truck, and we’ll make a pallet of blankets and pillows beside my bunk for Anna Marie.”

“That’s a good idea.” Grace lifted the coffeepot. “Too bad if anyone wanted more coffee. This is the last of it.”

“Mona, Blackie and I will take the first watch,” Rusty announced from where he sat beside Mona.

“I know what you’re up to, you … you masher!” Jody teased. “After we’ve all gone to bed, you’re thinkin’ to neck with my sister.”

“Just kiss my foot, Jody Luker! And shut up!” Mona glared at her brother, but she was grinning.

“Let the clabberhead talk.” Rusty put his arm across Mona’s shoulders. “He’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a girl to neck with unless he can talk Margie into sharing his watch.”

“If Margie shares anybody’s watch, it’ll be mine.”

There was a heavy silence after Brady had spoken, and all eyes turned on Margie. Hers flew to him. There was no mistake. He was looking directly at her. When her mind cleared and the words he had spoken registered, she was embarrassed, but elated too. She was also grateful for the dark that concealed her blush. Finally she had enough breath in her lungs to speak.

“I can take a watch—”

“No.” Brady, Foley and Alvin spoke in unison.

“Why not? You men are tired from driving all day. I could yell loud enough to wake you, and I have a pistol. I’m not afraid to shoot it if I have to. I need to do my part.”

“I’ll do your part,” Brady said in a no-nonsense tone of voice. Then added as if explaining his statement, “You’re looking after Anna Marie.”

“I think we should pull out of here in the morning before the camp stirs,” Alvin said quietly to fill the awkward silence that followed Brady’s statement. “We can stop after daylight and get a bite to eat. We’ll have to gas up before we leave town anyway.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Foley stood and stretched. He felt more like himself than he had in a long time. He would never have been able to be an active part of this group if Sugar were still with him. She would be nagging him to break away, and he would be on pins and needles fearful of what she would do or say.

It had been her choice to take off, and he had been afraid that she might run into something or someone who would hurt her. But sometime during the past couple of days he had come to the conclusion that she had done him a favor by leaving.

Homer waited until the caravan was parked in the campground before he followed it in and stopped as far from it as possible. There were so many campers and so many cars going in and out that a coupe with a couple of young
men
in it was hardly noticed.

“There’s yore man, little puss.” Homer pointed toward the men who had walked a distance away from the trucks. “Want to wave at him?”

“No, and he’s not my man. You are.”

“How come ya didn’t set yore sights on the cowboy, pussy-wussy? Wasn’t he rough enough for ya?”

“I didn’t like him; that’s why,” she retorted testily.

“I hate his guts!” Homer said viciously. He would never forget the humiliation of being tied up, messing in his pants, and the ridicule that followed.

“How long are we staying here? I’m tired and thirsty.”

“Now, sugar teat,” Homer said patiently. “I’m just gettin’ the lay of the land. In just a little bit we’ll go on into town, find us a room and eat a meal. We got money, honey.”

“Then whater we goin’ to do?”

“I know what I’m goin’ to do.” The hand on her leg traveled up the inside of her thigh, making his meaning clear. “I’m goin’ to strip ya naked as a jaybird and screw ya till yore eyes bug out.”

“Promise?”

“Swear to it, little bitch. Then while yo’re restin’ up for the next go-round, I’ll come back here and pay a call on the cowboy.”

“I want to come with you.”

He grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face toward him.

“Ya’ll do what I tell ya to do, little puss,” he snarled. “I’m callin’ the shots. Hear?” Then in his usual teasing tone he asked, “Is it that yo’re not wantin’ to let yore man outta yore sight, huh? Huh?”