Song of the Road (25 page)

“Trudy will help her in the morning.”

Mary Lee leaned her forehead against the door when she heard them leave the porch. She wished that her daddy could have known Jake and Eli. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. They were very dear to her.

Would she be able to bear it when they left her?

Chapter 17

I
T WAS MIDMORNING WHEN
O
CIE CLAWSON
drove into town and parked his car on a side street. He sat for a minute and watched a motorcycle with a sidecar go by and envied the man straddling the machine. If he didn’t have the responsibility of the ranch, he’d be tempted to get on one of those things and ride down the highway to the faraway places he’d only heard about.

Heaving a sigh, he looked around, then got out of the car and turned into the alley behind the row of buildings on Main Street. He went up the back stairs to the second floor of the Bison Theater building, then paused before pushing open the door with gold lettering on the glass.
WILLIAM MILLER AND SON, ATTORNEYS.

“Hello, Mr. Clawson.” He was greeted by the woman behind the desk. She was his age or older and had two double chins. Her plump face was framed with soft brown hair, scalloped and held in place with long bobby pins. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“Hello, Miss Dryden. Is Bill in?”

“Junior or Senior?”

“Senior.”

“He was getting ready to go home for lunch —”

“Who’s out there, Madge?”

The woman shook her head. “Nothing gets by that man. It’s Mr. Clawson,” she called.

“Did he come to see you or me?”

Madge rolled her eyes and jerked her head toward the back office.

“You, Bill,” Ocie said, as he came through the door.

“Good. I’m not wanting to lose Madge to some clabber-head wanting a good cook and a warm bed. When I’m gone, Junior can get one of those flapper gals to sit out front. Sit down, Ocie. How’ve ya been?”

“Fair to middlin’, Bill. You?”

“Not getting any younger. Hell, I’ll be eighty my next birthday. It’s a damn good thing the body goes downhill before the mind or I’d be a bloomin’ idiot.” His laugh was dry as corn shucks.

“Time waits for no man, Bill. That’s why I’m here. I want to make out a will.”

“A will, huh?”

“Yeah. You handled my father’s will. He thought a great deal of you.”

“Temple Clawson was one of the best friends I ever had. I would have trusted him with my life.”

“He felt the same about you.”

“In our younger days we even liked the same girls.” A devilish glint came into the old man’s eyes. “He was a good-lookin’ son of a gun. I didn’t have a chance after they got a look at him.” He began to laugh, remembering. “There was this girl we both liked, but she had her eye on Temple. I had to think of something to get her attention, so I told her that Temple had fits about once a month. She dropped him like a hot rock. Hee, hee, hee. He was madder than a pissed-on snake when he found out. Later, he wished that I had got her. After she married, she turned to fat, and I mean fat . . . three hundred pounds.”

Ocie thought about his sweet and gentle mother, so different from the sour, nagging woman he had married. His pa had been crushed when he lost her.

“About the will: I want to be sure the ranch is left to the grandchild Bobby’s wife is carrying.”

“Don’t you think you should wait until the child is born?”

“No. I want to get things settled. If something happens to the kid, I want everything to go to Mary Lee. She’s a Clawson by marriage. It’s the best I can do to see that the ranch stays in the family.”

“It’s what Temple wanted.”

“I know that. He drummed it in my head since I was old enough to stand to pee. I don’t want anyone to know about the will or what’s in it. Especially the girl.”

“We don’t blab what goes on in this office. You should know that.”

“Not intentionally. Sometimes thin’s slip out.”

His father’s old friend scowled, then said, “I heard that your daughter-in-law fell on the steps coming down from Doc Morris’s.”

“She claims someone grabbed her foot. Hell, I don’t know if she was imaginin’ it or not.”

“Pregnant women get fanciful notions.”

“She’s working herself to death at that motor court.”

“Dolly Finley is a sorry excuse for a woman if I ever saw one.”

“She was even when Scott Finley married her. She was trash then.”

“Her folks were hardworking. Whatever happened to them?”

“Killed in a flash flood over near Albuquerque. If she had other kin, I’ve never heard of them.”

“Now, let me get this straight, Ocie. You want to leave Bobby’s child everything. And should something happen to the child, to the mother. Is that how you want it?”

“Exactly.”

“How about Lon?”

“How about him? He’s a distant relative I signed on to work. He hasn’t done all that good a job lately. Takin’ a little too much on himself. If I could find a good man to take his place, I’d fire him.”

“How about Jake Ramero? Gus Quitman thinks he’s top-notch. Swears he’s the best with horses he’s ever known.”

“He’s a jailbird, for God’s sake.” Ocie moved restlessly in his chair.

“Some say Lon railroaded him.”

“The judge didn’t think so.”

“Fiddle-fart, Ocie. You and I both know how that goes. The judge had no choice with you up there siding with Lon. The boy’s took what was handed out to him and did his time. He’s back now and folks should give him a chance.”

When Ocie refused to be drawn into a conversation about Jake Ramero, Bill changed the subject.

“I’ll have Junior draw up the will. Come back in a day or two and sign it.”

“Will he and Madge keep their mouths shut?”

“I’d stake my life on it.”

Ocie got up to leave. “It’s been good seein’ ya, Bill.”

“Hell, boy, it’s been good seein’ you. Your pa thought a heap of ya, know that?”

“I know that, Bill. We were both disappointed in Bobby, but that’s all water under the bridge now. We play the cards dealt to us.”

“Come in and chat — anytime.”

Ocie had no more than closed the door to the outer office when William Junior opened the connecting door and came into his father’s office.

“Did you hear that, Junior?”

“I heard. What’re you going to do?”

“Make out the will just as he wants it.”

“It won’t be worth the paper it’s written on.”

“He won’t know that, but it will ease his mind.”

The old lawyer reached for his cane, got shakily out of his chair and stomped out the door.

Sheriff Pleggenkuhle came around the house to where Mary Lee and Trudy were hanging the morning wash on the line.

“Morning, ladies.” He tipped his hat.

Mary Lee answered his greeting with a smile and a nod.

“And a howdy to you, Sheriff,” Trudy said cheerfully. “Did you come out to arrest me for spitting my chewing gum on the sidewalk?”

“I’ve been looking for the culprit who did that. So you’re the one, huh?” A smile spread across his sunbaked face.

“Guilty. You gonna lock me up?”

“My jail is full right now. Jake around?”

“He and his friend went out to the Quitman ranch. Is something wrong?” Mary Lee asked anxiously.

“Not exactly. I wanted to talk to him for a little bit.”

“About the other night?”

“Partly, I guess. I’m going to let Frank out in a few days. He’s doin’ some mouthin’ off. I want to warn Jake to keep his nose clean.”

“Frank won’t come back here, will he?”

“Says he will unless you’re willing to give him back the hundred dollars he paid for a month’s rent. He claims his rent is paid up and he doesn’t have anyplace else to go.”

“A hundred dollars? I can’t, and wouldn’t if I could, give him a hundred dollars! He didn’t pay rent. Mama is just saying that he did so she’ll have someone to bring her whiskey,” Mary Lee said heatedly.

“He said he paid Mrs. Finley. She swears that he did. She and Yancy Hummer were down at the jail talking to him last night.”

“She wants him to come back here?” Mary Lee’s shoulders slumped.

“Didn’t she tell you that they’re going to get married?”

“Married? Oh . . . Lord! Oh, good grief!” As soon as she could breathe easier, she said, “Why? When?”

“The when, I don’t know. The why is so that he can live here with her. They tell me that it’s in Scott’s will, that she can live here as long as she wants, and as her husband, Frank figures that he can live here too. It might be a good idea to talk to Sidney Morales. He’s your lawyer, isn’t he?”

It took all the strength that Mary Lee could muster to hold herself together and not break down and cry in front of the sheriff. She turned away from him and looked off down the highway. Two cars went by while she batted her eyes furiously. When she turned back, her eyes were dry and her shoulders straight.

“Thank you for telling me, Sheriff. When will Frank be out of jail?”

“The judge said I must let him out in two days. He thinks that he has suffered enough for what he did, and sees no need to punish him further.”

“I’m not a bit sorry I hit him!”

The sheriff chuckled. “I didn’t think so.”

“He’ll do everything he can to ruin things here.” Mary’s disappointment and anguish were turning to anger. “I’m just barely hanging on as it is. If I don’t pay what’s owed the bank by October first, the bank will take over.”

“That might be the best thing. The bank would put them both out.”

“And me. Do you think I want to be out on the street with a new baby?” she snarled. “Maybe you think I could go to the hobo camp and eat at the soup kitchen. My daddy left this place to me, and I’m stayin’ right here and payin’ off the loan money that Mama squandered.” After the outburst, Mary Lee’s heart pounded with indignation.

“If Frank gives you any trouble, call me.”

“What good will that do?” Trudy picked up the empty clothes basket. “The damage will be done.”

“It’s the best I can do. Believe me, if I had my way, I’d run him and a few others out of town on a rail. My job is to arrest them. The judge does the sentencing.”

“I appreciate you coming by, Sheriff. I’ll tell Jake what you said.”

“You’ve got someone else on your side who’s pretty powerful around here.”

“Who is that? Mr. Santez? He was a good friend to my father.”

“Ocie Clawson. He told Frank that if he touched you, he’d tear his head off. And knowin’ Ocie, he’d do it.”

“Ocie Clawson has absolutely no claim on me because I was once married to his son. I want to make that perfectly clear.”

“That’s between you and Ocie. I’m just telling you what he said. Jake was in town last night with that little fellow who rode in on a motorcycle. Is he staying here?”

Trudy rolled her eyes. “I suppose you know that he gave me a ride home on that cycle.”

The sheriff grinned. “I didn’t know that, Trudy. Thanks for tellin’ me. I’ll go right down and tell Lloyd. He’ll want to put it in the paper.”

“If you do, I’ll never speak to you again!”

“Sure you would.” The sheriff teased the girl whose head hardly reached his armpit. “You’d even vote for me.”

“His name is Deke Bales and he’s staying here for a while with Jake.” Mary Lee, becoming more impatient, moved the bag of clothespins down the line.

“Where’s he from?”

“Oklahoma.”

“Did Jake say where he knew him?”

“Why the questions?” Trudy asked. “Isn’t Jake allowed to have friends?”

“If he served time in prison, I want to know if there is a convicted robber, killer, or bootlegger in our town. Did he meet him there?”

“He met him while he was working in Oklahoma about five years ago. They’ve kept in touch. If you want to know more about him come back around suppertime.” Mary Lee tried to conceal her irritation.

“I may do that. Good day, ladies.” Sheriff Pleggenkuhle tipped his hat and went back to his car.

“Now, don’t that beat all? I just never imagined that Mrs. Finley would do somethin’ so foolish.” Trudy clicked her tongue.

“She’ll do anything to hurt me. We had an awful row last night in front of Eli and Jake. I thought I’d die of embarrassment.”

“Was it over the supplies Jake bought?”

“It was over Eli and Jake being there. She didn’t even notice the supplies. Trudy, I heard that sometimes people who drink a lot . . . lose their minds. Have you ever heard that?” she asked as they were walking back to the washhouse.

“Mama says that their brains get pickled when they drink a lot of that rotgut whiskey.”

“That’s what’s happened to Mama. She’s drunk so much since Daddy died that she can’t think straight.”