[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years (13 page)

E. J. liked it best because it looked nothing like the wartorn lands of his nightmares. Here, in spite of the appearance
of being desolate and barren, life sprang up seemingly out of nothing. There were all manner of insects, reptiles, and birds. From time to time a variety of mice, jackrabbits, and even coyotes and mule deer could be seen skittering across the sandy desert floor. In France the only things that had marched on the land were men and death—hand in hand like bizarre players of the same game. The thought chilled E. J. to the bone.

“Why, Mr. Carson, I’m so glad you could come,” a matronly woman looking to have enjoyed quite a few picnics commented. “Do you know my husband, Mr. Willis?”

“He’s on the town council, is he not?”

“But of course he is,” the older woman stated as if to suggest otherwise was simply ludicrous. “I’ll have to make sure you’re better acquainted. My husband is quite knowledgeable about Winslow and has played a prominent role in seeing that the Harvey Company chose our town for their new resort. He promises it will bring in millions.”

“Let’s hope he’s right,” E. J. replied.

“But of course he is,” the woman said, looking down her nose at him. “My husband is never wrong. Why, he predicted the strength of our economy years ago. Put Hoover in the office of president, he said, and we’ll see nothing but prosperity. Of course, we could hardly elect that Catholic Mr. Smith or the Indian Charles Curtis. What tragedy would have befallen this great nation then,” she declared, as though she were making a speech for some great occasion.

Ethan longed to get away from the woman, but instead he found himself hopelessly entangled as she continued. “So, Mr. Carson, tell me what the railroad is doing to entice tourists to the new resort. I do hope we’ll get good, solid citizens to come. I’ve nothing against the flamboyant celebrities of the movie industry, but Mr. Willis says there’s really no future there. And, of course, we don’t want to see nothing but consumptive patients. My word, but we’ve had our share of
people coming to this great state to take the cure for their disease-filled lungs.”

Ethan struggled to figure out what he could say in regard to her question, then just as quickly realized that she’d probably never give him a chance to reply.

“Mr. Carson!” He looked behind him to find Natalie skipping up the trail with her mother at her side. How wonderful Ashley looked. Her soft pink suit seemed just casual enough for a picnic, while at the same time it gave her a clearly feminine, almost elegant appearance. With her face raised to the sun, he thought her radiant.

“Hello, Natalie,” he called out, waving at the child. He cast a quick glance back to Mrs. Willis, who by this time was frowning. “Natalie invited me here today,” he said as if the woman had questioned him.

“Poor child. Her mother’s a heathen, don’t you know.” The woman leaned toward E. J. to whisper this, but her voice somehow carried on the breeze. E. J. tried to keep the shock from his face but wasn’t very good with the cover-up. “Oh, it’s true,” Mrs. Willis said, leaning in closer. “Why, the woman has only been attending church services the past few Sundays. I think her grandfather’s impending death has given her reason to consider the status of her soul.”

“Mr. Carson, do you remember my mama?” Natalie asked as they approached.

E. J. didn’t know whether to acknowledge Mrs. Willis’s comments or the child’s. Finally he dismissed himself from the older woman’s company, much to her dismay. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Mrs. Willis
harrumphed
and marched away, as if he’d verbalized that he didn’t mind the company of heathens. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what she’d tell her friends.

“I remember your mama,” E. J. said as Natalie grinned up at him. “My, but don’t you ladies look nice.”

“Mama’s wearing a new hat, but the dress is just an old one.”

“Natalie!” Ashley’s embarrassment was apparent.

E. J. laughed to lighten the moment. “I think both pieces of apparel are quite fetching. But I must say, Miss Natalie, your dress is even nicer.” The child, clutching a small basket to her chest, whirled to make the skirt of the lemon-colored dress swirl out around her tiny legs. How very small and delicate she looked.

“Mama made it. She’s a good sewer. That’s something a wife should know how to do, don’t you think?”

E. J. looked past the girl to find Ashley gazing at the skies. “I’ll bet she’s a great cook too,” he said, noting the picnic basket in Ashley’s hands.

“She is a good cook. She makes the best fried chicken and—”

“Natalie, that’s enough. Why don’t you take our basket and set out the things we’ve brought to share?”

“I could help,” E. J. offered. “I just delivered some Harvey pies to the dessert table. I managed to sneak a peak at the main table and it looks quite promising.”

Natalie put her own basket down in order to take up her mother’s. “I’ll leave the dishes here,” she announced, and Ashley nodded.

Natalie took hold of the handles on her mother’s basket, but E. J. could see she struggled with the weight of it. “Why don’t I carry it and you can lead the way? It’s just over there,” he said, pointing.

Natalie nodded and let him carry the basket. “I can show you what Mama made and you can decide for yourself if she’s a good enough cook.”

Ashley opened her mouth as if to chide her daughter again, then closed it rather quickly. She offered E. J. an apologetic smile and turned to gaze at the crystal clear water.

E. J. would much rather have stayed with his wife, but instead he followed after Natalie, weaving in and out of
congregation members, trying to tip his hat as he returned their greetings.

“I’m so glad you came today,” Natalie said as they reached the table. She took hold of the basket and pulled it away from E. J. Settling it on the ground, Natalie quickly opened the latch and pulled out a platter. Removing the dish towel that covered it, she held it up and smiled. “Fried chicken.”

“It certainly looks delicious.”

“It is,” she said confidently.

E. J. helped her find a place on the sagging makeshift table. Natalie took out several smaller containers, one of creamed peas and potatoes and one of a delicious-looking squash. He helped her arrange the food, then followed her back through the crowd to where they’d left Ashley.

“Mama wasn’t going to come, but I told her we had to. I told her I’d invited you and that there wouldn’t be any food for you if she didn’t make some and come too.”

E. J. knew from the sight of the luncheon tables that this would never have been the case, but he only smiled and nodded. The child was clearly enjoying her role as matchmaker. The thought amused E. J., and yet at the same time it seemed quite strange to be thrust into a situation where he was being set up to court his own wife.

By the time they rejoined Ashley, she had settled herself on a blanket on a flat, rocky outcropping beside the water. When she saw they’d returned, she issued a warning to her daughter. “Be careful for snakes and such.” She looked at E. J. and added, “There are quite a few poisonous critters that live in the area. Rattlesnakes, scorpions, and so many other things. If you haven’t been advised of this, it’s a good time to take note. They like to hide in the rocks, and if you disturb them, they’ll retaliate.”

He looked around them, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Why, Mrs. Reynolds. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” A
stocky man strode up to share their company. He settled alongside E. J. and held out his hand. “Todd Morgan.”

“Mr. Morgan,” E. J. acknowledged, shaking his hand. “I’m E. J. Carson.”

“You’re new in town, aren’t you?” He let his gaze travel up and down E. J. as if assessing him as an opponent.

“I’m here with the Harvey hotel.”

“Mr. Carson is an architect,” Natalie offered.

“That’s nice, kiddo,” Morgan answered, quickly ignoring the child. “It’s good to see you, Ashley. I haven’t seen you at the Harvey House lately.”

E. J. bristled at the usage of his wife’s first name. Who was this man to treat her so casually?

Natalie reached out and took hold of E. J.’s hand. “I want to show you my favorite place. It’s over by the bridge.”

E. J. looked at Natalie and then Ashley. “If it’s all right with your mama.”

“Can I show him around, Mama?” Natalie begged.

“Of course. Just be careful and mind your step.”

E. J. hated to leave her there with the personable Mr. Morgan, but he felt he could hardly act the part of jealous husband—even if that was what he was.

Natalie pulled him along to the bridge, where she threw stones into the water below. “Isn’t this the best place in the whole world?”

E. J. looked down the long meandering stream and had to admit it was truly an oasis. “It is wonderful. I can see why you like it so much.”

“I’d like to build my mama a house right over there.” Natalie pointed to a rise of red rock. “That way she could always see the creek and be happy.”

“Why do you suppose that would make her happy?” E. J. asked, needing to know about the woman he’d married and who she’d become in the last decade.

To his surprise, Natalie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just
think she’d like it. My daddy was going to build her a really wonderful house, but then he died.”

E. J. felt a quickening in his soul. He easily remembered the two-story house he’d designed, patterned after the early classical revival style so popular in the early eighteen hundreds. Ashley had told him of her passion for the style, pointing out several houses in the Baltimore area.

E. J. had taken the things she liked most, the portico with its lower and upper levels supported by slender Doric pillars. The second-story porch would be accessible to them through artistically carved French doors in the master bedroom. E. J. could see it all as if it were yesterday. He had sketched the house while Ashley detailed it, and before he’d left for the war, he’d given her the drawing, reminding her that when he returned they would build their home together.

Only he hadn’t come home. At least not when she’d expected him to.

“ . . . but she really wants me to go to college first.”

E. J. shook away his thoughts. “What did you say?” He looked at Natalie, who was still staring off toward the red rocks.

“I want to build my mama her house and make it just like my daddy planned it out, but she wants me to go to college first.”

“Well, that’s not a bad idea,” E. J. replied. “After all, you’ll need training to be an architect.”

“I know, but I don’t want to leave Mama alone. She’s been so brave and strong all these years, but she’s had Grandpa to help her. She’s going to need someone to be with her if I go away.”

E. J. glanced back to where Ashley sat. Todd Morgan had squatted down to talk with her and still remained. It looked to E. J. as though he were trying to convince Ashley of something as he waved his hands throughout the conversation.

“I think maybe we’d better head back. It won’t be long
till they say the blessing, and I don’t want to miss a chance at your mother’s fried chicken.”

They walked back in companionable silence. Natalie seemed content in her efforts to walk up and down various rocks, balancing like a ballerina on tiptoes as she jumped from one boulder to another.

“We’re back, Mama,” Natalie announced, jumping down to land between Todd and her mother.

“Natalie, be careful,” Ashley warned.

Todd rose to stand beside E. J., but his gaze was still fixed on Ashley. “So will you come with me?”

Ashley looked most uncomfortable but finally replied, “It’s difficult to leave my grandfather. Besides, with his impending death, I’m really in no mood for excursions. I’m sure you understand.”

Morgan looked none too happy with her reply but tipped his hat. “Well, I suppose if that’s the way it is.”

E. J. watched the man walk away, feeling delighted that Ashley had rejected his advances. The mood surprised him. Todd Morgan had no way of knowing he’d just propositioned E. J.’s wife. Ashley, herself, had no idea she was anything but the widow she believed herself to be. What a tangled web they’d all woven for themselves.

Plopping down on the rock across from her, E. J. smiled. “I hope we weren’t gone too long.”

“No, you came back just in time.”

Ashley removed her brimmed straw hat and let the breeze blow through her dark hair for a few minutes. With her face raised to the clear blue skies and the wind gently rippling her hair, E. J. felt himself falling in love with her all over again. For just a moment he was twenty-one and innocent of war.

“Let’s gather for the blessing, folks,” Pastor McGuire declared.

E. J. jumped up and extended his hand to Ashley. She paused momentarily to replace her hat. Fixing it with her long hatpin, she smiled up at E. J. and allowed his help.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not seeming to mind that E. J. still held her hand.

Natalie took hold of her mother’s other hand and pulled. “Come on, Mr. Carson wants to be sure to get some of your fried chicken.”

Ashley beamed him a smile. “If you miss out here, I’ll fry up another batch just for you.”

E. J. found himself almost praying the china platter would be empty when they reached the table. He wouldn’t mind at all lingering over a private dinner of fried chicken with his beloved wife.

Pastor McGuire offered the blessing, and soon the crowds were divided into two lines, passing down both sides of the table. By the time E. J. reached Ashley’s platter, all but the tiniest chicken wing had been claimed.

“Look, Mama, it’s all gone,” Natalie declared. “Now you’ll have to fry up some more chicken for Mr. Carson.”

E. J. met Ashley’s face. “You don’t have to, but . . .” He grinned and let his expression speak for him.

“But if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it from my daughter,” Ashley replied. “I’ll be happy to fix some for you—in fact, Natalie could bring it over when she visits you at work.”

“No, Mama, let him come to dinner tomorrow night,” Natalie demanded, pushing matters right along. “Please?”

Ashley looked from her daughter to E. J. “That’s fine with me.”