Read Small Town Girl Online

Authors: Ann H. Gabhart

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #FIC042030, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

Small Town Girl (9 page)

BOOK: Small Town Girl
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But she couldn’t swing forever. Twilight was giving way to darkness. Already the lights were on in the house. She’d have to go in. And then Lorena was running down the steps and across the yard toward her. Her beautiful little sister. Surely, Lorena was proof that she cared about somebody besides herself. She let her feet skip against the ground to stop the swing.

“Mama sent me to tell you to come in,” Lorena said.

“All right.” The swing was stopped now, but Kate didn’t stand up.

“Are you okay, Kate?”

“Some people don’t think so. What do you think?”

Lorena ran closer to wrap her arms around her. “I think you’re perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” Kate stood up and pulled her close. She was getting so tall.

“Nobody but Jesus.” Lorena peeked up at Kate. “But you’re real close.”

“If only,” Kate said with a little smile.

“Did you and Carl have a fight?”

“You could say that.”

“He’s just mad ’cause you talked to Tanner. Did he really give Tanner a black eye?”

“Yeah, he really did.” Kate gave her head a little shake as she looked down at Lorena.

“Poor Tanner.” Lorena made a sad face.

“He’ll live through it,” Kate said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t waste too much time worrying about Mr. Tanner. He can take care of himself or I miss my guess.”

“Why’d he let Carl hit him then?”

“Maybe he caught him by surprise.” A lot of things were catching Kate by surprise, so why not everybody else?

“You going to make up?” Lorena asked. “You and Carl.”

“I don’t know. Maybe not.” Actually she did know. She breathed out a sigh. “Probably not.”

“Good.” Lorena tightened her lips together and gave a curt little nod.

“Good?” Kate frowned down at her. “I thought you liked Carl.”

Lorena shrugged her shoulders. “He’s okay. But did you hear him trying to sing this afternoon? He was awful. You don’t want to marry somebody who can’t sing.”

“You silly goose,” Kate said, but she couldn’t keep from laughing as she flipped her hand through Lorena’s curly hair. The laugh freed up something inside her and let Carl’s angry words fade into the background of her mind. She wouldn’t worry about what everybody was saying. She’d only worry about whether they could sing.

“I mean it.” Lorena had a serious look on her face.

“What about Evie and Mike? He can’t sing a lick.”

“True,” Lorena said a little regretfully. “But Evie doesn’t care that much about singing anyway. And Mike preaches, so that makes up for not singing, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea. You’re the one doing this thinking, but I’m thinking love might matter more than singing ability.”

“Love songs are the best.” Lorena put her hands together up under her chin and got a dreamy look.

“I guess when you start getting stuck on boys, we’ll have to get them to audition. You monkey.” Kate poked her in the ribs to make her giggle. “Come on. Mama’s peeking out the door wondering where we are.”

Halfway across the yard, Lorena said, “Do you think Tanner can sing?”

“Who knows? But it doesn’t matter. He’s way too old for you.”

“Not for you.”

“I don’t need you matchmaking for me, young lady. I can find my own fellows.”

“But he was fun. Didn’t you think so?”

“I bet he can’t sing,” Kate said, just to bother Lorena.

“He might be able to sing.” Lorena sounded hopeful, then wistful. “You think we’ll ever see him again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I wish we would,” Lorena said. “Don’t you?”

“Maybe he’ll come back in ten years looking for you. By then, you’ll be all grown up and so beautiful he wouldn’t be able to resist you.” She put her arm around the little girl’s shoulders and gave her a hug as they climbed the porch steps. “And he’ll have taken singing lessons.”

“He’ll come back before then. He’ll come looking for you.”

Kate laughed, but the idea of seeing Jay Tanner didn’t sound so bad. Instead a little thrill tickled through her.

She had to be out of her mind. Completely.

9

J
ay liked painting the boards on the old house. Back and forth. Dip the brush in the paint and swipe it against the wood. Back and forth. No thought required. His mind was free to wander anywhere. To wherever he’d left off reading before they’d hauled off to Mrs. Harrelson’s house that morning. To the cities in the headlines in yesterday’s newspapers that Victor Merritt brought to Graham Lindell each day.

Not that Jay wanted to think too much about the headlines. Bombs exploding. Planes going down. Russians under siege. People dying. President Roosevelt kept promising to keep them out of the war, but he’d put troops in Greenland. Factories were turning out tanks for the Allied troops. Men were being drafted. Seemed to Jay the country was poised on the brink of falling into the conflict no matter what the politicians were saying. From what he read and heard, the average joe wasn’t all that anxious to jump into the war. It was fine to supply the guns and ammunition, whatever it took, to stop the Germans, but that didn’t mean they had to go over to do the shooting themselves. Let the English fight the war. They’d cheer them on from this side of the ocean.

He would have to go. Not to the war. Not if the president kept his word. But to serve. The draftees had to sign up for a year in the Army. A year wasn’t so long. It wouldn’t be
pleasant. Not easy like standing in the sun slapping paint on a house, but he could do a year. He’d have to, since he figured it was only a matter of time before a draft notice caught up with him. Other men his age and younger were already being tapped on the shoulder by Uncle Sam. Even here in peaceful little Rosey Corner. Graham told him Carl Noland had joined up with the Navy before the draft could grab him. He was heading out for a training camp next week.

Jay dipped his brush in the paint and smoothed it on the rough board. The skin under his eye was still a funny purplish green from the punch he’d let that hayseed land on him. If he had it to do over, he might duck away from the guy’s fist and land his own fist in the farm boy’s midsection. That would have taken the air out of his overinflated sails. Help toughen him up for what he was sure to find in the service.

The early October sun reflecting off the white boards was heating up, and he looked around for a shaded spot that needed painting. Just till the sun began heading toward the horizon. But Graham had already grabbed the spot under the tree. Jay watched him a minute and wasn’t sure but what he might be painting the same planks over again instead of moving out into the sun or climbing up a ladder. The man’s old dog had scratched out a fresh hole back in the deep shade and was settled in behind him.

Jay was beginning to think Graham had been painting on this very same house all summer, but Mrs. Harrelson didn’t seem to mind. She brought them ice water a couple of times a day and sometimes dragged a metal lawn chair around to sit and watch. Graham said she’d been a widow for three years. Jay was wondering if she was trying to snag a new husband in Graham, but when he suggested that, the man laughed and shook his head.

“My marrying days are long past. Poe and me, we’re too old to learn new ways.”

“Then it might be you ought to tell Mrs. Harrelson that, because I think she has a twinkle in her eyes when she’s looking your way,” Jay told him.

“Long as that twinkle don’t catch fire. That happens, me and Poe, we’ll be heading for the woods.”

Graham was an interesting companion and the dog wasn’t too stinky. Jay didn’t regret the week he’d spent in Rosey Corner. It hadn’t been so bad except for the black eye and the blisters from the paintbrush and the wasp stings on his ear from not swatting fast enough when he disturbed a nest up under the eaves of the house. Those kinds of things or worse could happen anywhere.

He did regret that Kate hadn’t come around. He’d thought she would just out of curiosity. She knew he was still there. He and Graham went to the store for pop and bologna sandwiches at noon. Mrs. Harrelson didn’t have enough of a twinkle in her eye to feed them lunch. But each time they went in the store, Kate kept disappearing back in the stockroom or out the front door with a box of groceries or who knew where. Anywhere but where she would have to say hello to him.

He might have begun to wonder if he’d lost his touch with the girls if some of the other Rosey Corner lovelies hadn’t started finding reasons to walk past Mrs. Harrelson’s house a few times a day. But not Kate. She wasn’t the average girl. Already nineteen going on twenty and not worried about no ring on her finger. So not worried she’d sent her longtime beau packing. Off to the Navy without so much as a tear or so, one of the girls had told Jay the day before.

Alice, that was the girl’s name. She claimed to be going on eighteen, but Jay had his doubts. He always moved over nearer to Graham when she sauntered up to the house. She was at that dangerous age, ready to leave behind being a kid but too young to really know what it meant to act like
a woman. He didn’t need that kind of trouble. But the girl wasn’t happy simply flashing her eyes at him. She was a talker. Words spilled out of her like water through a sieve.

So he wasn’t glad to look up and see her coming toward the house for the second time that day. Graham must have seen her coming too, because he actually grabbed a can of paint and climbed up the ladder to get away from talking to her. Jay didn’t have any choice but to steady the ladder for the older man, which left him standing there, his ears way too open to the girl’s chatter. She talked about everybody, but she kept coming back to Kate and the hayseed farm boy.

“Nobody understands it. We were all ready as anything for them to have a double wedding with Evangeline and Pastor Mike. But then that Kate goes and breaks poor Carl’s heart.” Alice pulled a sad face. “Broke it bad. But then, nothing Kate does surprises any of us.”

“What’s she done? Besides breaking Carl’s heart?” Jay glanced over at her. She’d found some lipstick and smeared it on a little too thick. That plus the two bright spots of rouge on her cheeks made her look a little clownish. She wasn’t bad looking, but she’d managed to completely hide that fact. Part of the problem of being too young.

She must have taken his question as a sign of interest, because she stepped closer and raised her eyebrows at him. “What hasn’t she done?”

Jay thought about letting go of the ladder and retreating, but the ladder was worse than wobbly. It was one thing for him to take a chance of spilling off it, but if Graham fell, he might break his neck. The man wasn’t all that old, but he wasn’t all that young either. So Jay kept his hold on the ladder and on his smile as he tried to get the girl to put some space between them. “If I was you, I’d move back a ways. Graham can be sloppy with his paint. Some of it might splatter down here and ruin your dress.”

Graham was acting like he was so busy painting he wasn’t hearing what they were saying, but a couple of spots of paint landed on Jay’s arm. Jay bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning as he went on. “See? Not the best place to be standing. Could be Graham might even fall down on top of us, paint and all. This old ladder is pretty rickety.”

“Oh, it looks plenty strong.” Alice didn’t give the ladder a glance. Her light brown eyes were fastened on Jay as she scooted a little closer. “But don’t you want to know about Kate? You looked pretty interested at the wedding. Leastways Carl must have thought so.” She brushed against his arm casually almost as if by accident, but there wasn’t anything accidental about it.

Jay shifted to the side. If she moved after him, poor Graham would have to take his chances with the shaky ladder, because Jay would be in full retreat. “Just a little misunderstanding, that’s all. Happens sometimes.”

“And look what it got you. A black eye, poor thing.” She reached toward his face, but Jay looked up to check on Graham just in time to avoid her fingers touching him. She let her hand settle on the ladder below his. “All because of Kate.”

“She didn’t sock me. Carl did.”

“But she caused it. That’s Kate. Always in the middle of any trouble.”

“People have trouble here in Rosey Corner?” Jay laughed and tried to lighten the conversation. “Mike told me everything came up roses here.”

“Oh well, that’s what preachers are supposed to say.”

“Really? I thought they were supposed to tell you what you were doing wrong and straighten you out. Get you back on the right track and all that kind of thing.” He looked up. Graham was painting away, as industrious as he’d seen him all week.

“Well, some people are harder to keep on the right track
than others.” She leaned up against the ladder. “People like Kate.”

Jay was letting go of the ladder to step back just as several large splatters of paint came raining down from above. Alice shrieked a little when a big blob of paint hit her right on the top of her head.

“Oops. Sorry, Alice,” Graham called down to her. “I must’ve dipped out too much paint.”

Alice gingerly touched the top of her head and then stared at the white tips of her fingers. It was all Jay could do to keep from laughing as he rubbed a splatter of paint off his own cheek onto his shoulder. “You better go on home and try to get that out, Alice.”

Graham clambered down the ladder. He stopped on the second rung and peered at Alice’s head. “Now don’t you be worrying about that none, Alice. White hair looks right pretty. Mine’s been that way for years.” He stepped down to the ground and ran his hand through his hair. That made it stick up in even odder angles than usual and added a few streaks of white.

“Don’t you have some kerosene here?” Alice asked.

“Nope.” Graham lied with no hesitation. “Not a bit. Me and the boy here, we don’t mind being polka-dotted. We’ll take a bath afore church on Sunday and get to looking respectable again.” Graham glanced over at Jay. “Right, Jay?”

“Not much sense cleaning up while there’s more painting to do.” Jay picked up the paint can and brush and stepped away from the ladder. He wanted plenty of space between him and Alice.

“You could at least offer to wipe it out of my hair since you let the paint hit me.” She directed her words over toward Jay.

“Well now, it wasn’t the boy’s fault. I was the one who spilled the paint on you,” Graham said. “I can give it a try cleaning it off your head if you want me to.” He jerked a handkerchief
out of his pocket that looked like it might have been in that same pocket since last summer. He shook it a little, but it stayed bunched up, the cloth stuck together by who knew what.

Turning a little pale as he stepped toward her, Alice held up her hand to stop him. “That’s all right. I’ll run on home and let Mother help me.” She peered around Graham to waggle paint-covered fingers at Jay. “I’ll see you around, Jay.”

“Sure thing.” Jay gave her a quick look and went back to painting.

“You tell your mama how sorry I am,” Graham called after her.

Jay waited until Alice was out of sight before he looked around at Graham. “You shouldn’t ought to tell her to lie to her mother like that. You aren’t one bit sorry.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am sorry. Truly sorry I missed her nose. That’s what I was aiming for.”

“That wasn’t very nice of you.” Jay swallowed his smile.

“I’d heard all I wanted to hear of her nonsense.” His voice was almost a growl as he went on. “Talking about our Kate like that.”

Jay didn’t say anything as he kept brushing on paint. Obviously Kate was good at getting people fired up. Thinking about her got him a little fired up too. But he didn’t think he could claim her as his Kate the way Graham was doing.

“Come on over and take a break.” Graham took a swig from the water jug and settled down in the shade next to his dog. “Maybe no more Rosey Corner hopefuls will be dropping by to make eyes at you for a spell.”

“Mrs. Harrelson may come out to make eyes at you.” Jay laid the brush on the top of the paint can.

“Nope. She’s gone to Edgeville for more paint.”

Jay took a drink and dropped down in the shade beside the old man. He looked back at the house. “How long you been painting on this house?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I ain’t one to count days. A job takes however long a job takes.”

Jay squinted his eyes to count the unpainted planks. Most of them in the full sun. The other side and the front were finished, but the back hadn’t felt the first brush of paint yet. “How much longer you think this one might take?”

“It depends.” Graham plucked up a broad piece of grass and put the end of it between his lips.

“On what?”

“Lots of things. The weather. If Mrs. Harrelson can afford to keep buying paint. You.”

“Me?”

“How long you intend on sticking around. Whether you’re one of those boys who ain’t got no finish to him.”

“No finish?” Jay turned to stare at Graham. “What are you talking about?”

Graham didn’t seem bothered at all by Jay’s frown. “How many jobs you quit in the last couple of years?”

“None that mattered whether I kept on with them or not. Anybody can dig a ditch or sling hash.”

“Or paint a house.”

“Or paint a house,” Jay agreed.

“Never doing anything important gives a man a certain freedom. That’s for sure. ’Cepting any job can be of some importance to somebody. Even painting a house. Mrs. Harrelson is right proud of the way it’s looking, and in spite of myself, I’m admiring the job some too. Especially now that you’re here to paint the eaves where the wasps hide out.” He looked over at the house and chewed on his grass stem a minute before he went on. “I had a house. Bigger than this one here. Painted it once. Back before my folks passed. Didn’t take me but a few weeks. I was young then. Younger even than you.”

BOOK: Small Town Girl
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