“You’re a good fighter, Pete, but don’t you think this is enough? In the condition you’re in now, I could hurt you bad. I don’t want to do that.” Grant’s face was bruised and battered, although he had no cuts. His ribs hurt like hell where Pete had kicked him.
Pete tried to wipe the blood from his face with his sweat-slick arm. His cheek had been laid open, and his lips were bloody. One eye was almost closed, but he stood there, the hatred in his eyes as strong as ever.
“If you want to continue, I’m game.” Grant waited to see what his opponent would do. “We can stop now and try it again later on. Maybe you’ll win next time.”
“Next time,” Pete snarled. “Next time it’ll be different.”
Pete had been stopped, but not beaten. He cherished his reputation of being tough. He gloried in the feeling of power, enjoyed going into town and having folks step out of the way. He wasn’t giving all that up because he’d lost one fight to a road bum. What hit him hardest was being whipped in front of Henry Ann. He glanced in her direction and found Tom Dolan standing close beside her. He knew how to get back at him. They were all looking at
him
now as if he was a skunk that had been dead for a week. He’d get even with all of them.
“This isn’t over,” he said to Grant, his split lips hardly moving.
“It is as far as I’m concerned.”
“And you,” Pete’s one good eye homed in on Chris. He felt the need to inflict as much hurt as he could. “I’m not finished with you. Stay away from Opal. She’s not for a sissy mama’s boy.”
“Goddamn you!” Chris exploded. “If you weren’t already whipped like a cur dog, I’d beat you to a pulp.”
“You couldn’t whip a sick whore with one arm tied behind her back.” Pete spit a mouthful of blood on the ground. “As for you,” he said to Johnny, “there’s nothin’ worse than kin turnin’ against kin.”
“I couldn’t choose my kin, but if I could’ve, you’d not a been one of them. Stay away from here or a
wild Indian
might shoot a fire-arrow onto your roof some dark night.”
Pete looked with surprise at the young boy before walking to the watering tank on legs spread wide to maintain his balance. He dunked his head before untying and mounting his horse.
When Isabel realized that he was leaving, she ran after him as he walked the horse down the fence line toward the creek.
“Pete! Pete! Wait, Pete.”
Karen went to the house, returned with a towel, and took it to the well, where Johnny was pouring a bucket of water over Grant’s head.
Henry Ann felt Tom’s hand fall from her back and turned to look at him.
“It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen you.” His dark eyes mirrored his longing.
“Jay will be glad to see you.”
“And you, Henry Ann?”
She flushed and lowered her gaze. For a little while she was wholly still, fighting down her desire to lean toward him, to rest in his arms. She gazed into his eyes, unable to keep the yearning from hers, and nodded.
“Henry Ann, I meant every word that I said the other night. You mean the world to me.”
“We can’t do anything . . . about it.”
“I look over this way at night and wish that I was here.”
“I . . . wish it, too.”
“I’m afraid to leave her alone. She was with a man the night I couldn’t find her. I’ve no idea who he was, but he hit her. She’s pitiful, Henry Ann.”
“I know.”
“I can’t watch her and work, too. I put off installing the motor in the grocer’s truck, and he got someone else to do it. As soon as I can, I’m going down to Conroy and talk to her folks. They told me before that if I put her away, they’d go to court to get Jay. If that happens, I’ve no money to fight them. I’d have no choice but to take him and leave here.”
“Nooo—” Henry Ann’s hand went to her mouth.
Tom looked past her and saw the others coming toward them.
“Will you come outside tonight? Meet me out there by the tree?” he asked in a quick whisper. Then when she hesitated, “Please, sweetheart—”
She nodded, then turned to Grant. “You all right?”
“I couldn’t be better. If I’d known I was going to get this much attention, I’d have fought him sooner.” His grin was lopsided, his eyes on Karen.
“You sure like to talk,” Karen retorted. Then to Tom, “You’re just in time for the ice cream.”
“It should be ready by now.” Henry Ann had a nervous tremor in her voice which did not go unnoticed by Grant and Karen. “Jay’s going to be surprised to see you.”
Henry Ann and Karen went to the kitchen to get bowls and spoons. Tom and Johnny carried the freezer to the front porch.
“Grant whipped Pete Perry good,” Karen said with a lilt to her voice.
“Maybe he was a prizefighter before he took to the road.” Henry Ann set bowls on a wooden tray.
“He asked me to go to a picture show, but I’m not going. I did say I’d think about going for a ride next Sunday. He’s going to ask to borrow the car, but I think I’ll bring mine out and take
him
for a ride.” She giggled happily.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I hope
you
do, too, Henry Ann.” Karen spoke seriously.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. The man is still married even if his wife is . . . not right in the head. The town gossips will tear you apart.”
“I know.”
* * *
Jay was wildly happy to see his daddy. He insisted on sitting beside him on the step to eat his ice cream. Henry Ann’s glance lingered on the two dark heads when Tom bent to say something to his son.
Opal became more at ease, even laughed a time or two. Chris had Rosemary on his lap and fed her ice cream out of his own bowl. The love he had for the pair and they for him was evident. Henry Ann had never seen him so happy as when he was with them.
“I’ll take more.” Johnny handed his bowl to Aunt Dozie, who was sitting on a chair beside the freezer refilling the bowls. “I got to get mine before Grant gets here,” he said confidentially to Aunt Dozie. “I was hoping Pete’d knock his teeth out and he wouldn’t be able to eat.”
“Dat ain’t nice ta be sayin’ sich as dat. ’Sides, don’ take no teeth ta eat dis ice cream.”
Henry Ann was listening to the exchange and smiling fondly at her brother when a car slowed to a stop in front of the house, backed up, and pulled into the yard.
“Oh, no,” she murmured, when Mrs. Miller got out and came toward the house. Henry Ann rose to meet her.
“Having a social, Henry Ann?”
“I suppose that you could call it that.”
“We’re on our way to the Austins’. I saw their car here and”—her small bright eyes honed in on Christopher with Rosemary on his lap—“I said to Wilbur . . . stop, stop. The Austins are here.”
“As far as I know the folks are at home, Mrs. Miller.” Chris spoke up, then wiped Rosemary’s mouth with the bib tied around her neck, making it clear to the woman that Opal and her child were here with him.
Henry Ann silently applauded.
“Well . . . Oh, hello, Karen. Your daddy preached a fine sermon this morning.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Hello, Mr. Dolan.”
“Ma’am.”
“Is Mrs. Dolan here? I’ve not met her yet.”
“No, ma’am.”
“She’s been ill, hasn’t she? I’ve been meaning to stop by and visit with her. We need our young people on our committees. The time just slips by, ya know, what with all the quilting projects, the canning, and helping with the soup kitchen. So many
tramps
coming through these days.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re lucky to have a neighbor like Henry Ann who’ll take care of your little boy.”
“I realize that.”
“Before I forget, Henry Ann, there’ll be a meeting of the committee planning the church budget next Wednesday.”
“I’m not on the committee, Mrs. Miller.”
“You’re daddy was. We thought—”
“No. I’m not on the committee,” she repeated.
Never before in her life had Henry Ann been rude to someone who had come to her home. She did not invite Mrs. Miller or her husband waiting in the car to come in. Nor did she offer them ice cream.
It seemed to her that the world and all around her stood still while the woman took in the scene: Rosemary on Chris’s lap, Karen sitting in the porch swing with a man with a bruised face and swollen eye and . . . of all things, Dozie Jones, a colored, sitting in a chair among them eating from a bowl of ice cream. It wasn’t difficult to read the woman’s thoughts.
Scandalous! What in the world is the matter with Henry Ann? Is she carrying on with Mr. Dolan? Ed Henry would turn over in his grave. Wait till I tell poor Pernie Austin that her Chris is here with that whore from down on the river. And oh, dear. Our Karen, our sweet and innocent Karen, is here in the midst of all this.
“Tell the folks that I’ll be late getting home, Mrs. Miller, and that I arranged for the Whalen boy to come help with the chores.” Chris seemed determined that the woman get the message that he and Opal were here as a couple.
“I’ll tell them. ’Bye, Henry Ann. ’Bye, Karen.” She ignored the others and headed for the car.
“Good-bye, Mrs. Miller.”
All were quiet until after the dust from the car had drifted away.
“The fat’s in the fire,” Karen muttered. “It’ll be all over town that Grant has been in a fight, that Chris was here with Opal, and that Mr. Dolan was here without his wife.”
“This is a regular den of iniquity.” Henry Ann laughed nervously.
Tom stood quickly and faced her. “I don’t want you talked about because of me.”
“She’ll mostly talk about me and Opal,” Chris said. “I don’t care. Do you, sweetheart?”
Opal lifted her shoulders. “I’m used to it, but you—”
“I can get used to it, too.”
There was only an hour of daylight left when Johnny came to the kitchen where Henry Ann was running milk through the separator and Aunt Dozie was washing dishes.
“If it’s all right with you, Grant’ll take Karen back to town.”
“Is this Grant’s idea?”
“No, it’s mine.”
“I don’t know—”
“You don’t trust him, do you?
“We don’t really know anything about him.”
“You didn’t know anything about me when I came here.”
“But you were my brother.”
“It’s up to you. They like each other, and I thought it would be a good time for them to be together without us around.”
“Johnny! You’re a regular matchmaker.” Henry Ann smiled fondly at her brother, seeing new depth to his character.
“Well? Shall I ride out and check the herd, or take Karen to town?”
“Check the herd.” Henry Ann spoke as soon as Johnny left the room, “Aunt Dozie, am I doing the right thing?”
“Dey is kinda stuck on each other. Dat plain as day. I ain’t seein’ it hurt none. Miss Karen ain’t no youngun no more. She old as you is.”
Karen came to the kitchen, followed by Grant.
“I’m going, Henry Ann.”
“Johnny’s going out to the south pasture. Do you want to ride along with me to take Karen home?”
“I don’t think so, Grant. You go ahead. I’ll see you sometime this week, Karen.”
Karen went to the bedroom to get her purse and hat. Grant lingered in the doorway.
“I understand your concerns. Thank you for trusting me.”
When Aunt Dozie went to her room, Henry Ann went to sit in the porch swing and enjoy the quiet sounds of evening and the breeze coming from the south. She mulled over in her mind the happenings of the day.
No one could say that life on the Henry farm was dull.
Grant had handled himself well during the fight with Pete. The thought came to her that he wasn’t a cruel man, or he would have really hurt Pete when he was no longer able to fight back. She searched her memory for a fault to find with Grant but could find only the fact that he didn’t talk much about himself.
If he was a wanted criminal, Mr. Hamer and Tom’s brother would have known about it—that is if Grant Gifford was his real name. Johnny said it was. He had found a letter addressed to Grant that had fallen from his pack. Karen was attracted to the blond-haired man. She sparkled even more than usual when she was around him. Henry Ann hoped that her friend wouldn’t be disappointed again.
Trying not to dwell on the meeting she would have later with Tom, Henry Ann concentrated on Chris Austin and Opal. She had been proud of him today when he confronted Mrs. Miller, knowing that she would tell his mother that he had been here with Opal. This had been an exciting day for Mrs. Miller. She had stumbled onto a gold mine of things to gossip about. Could it be that Pete’s taunting had embarrassed Chris and stiffened his backbone? He would never be able to take Opal and Rosemary home to live on the farm with his mother. Henry Ann was sure of that. Poor Chris. If he wanted Opal, he would have to leave the farm and all that was familiar to him.
When the lightning bugs began to flit about, Henry Ann went into the darkened house. A light was on in the upstairs room. Johnny had come home. As she ran a wet washcloth over her face and a comb through her hair, she wondered what Johnny would think about her sneaking out in the night to meet Tom. Would he lose respect for her and think that she was a loose woman like their mother? If she was lucky, Johnny would never know.
I love Tom!
She fervently wished that she could shout the words.
With anticipation making her heart race, she slipped out the back door and almost stepped on Shep, who was lying on the porch. The dog stood and followed her out into the yard.
“Oh, Shep, I know that I shouldn’t be doing this.” The words came out on a breath.
As they neared the deep shadows of the tree at the far end of the house yard, Shep growled. Henry Ann stopped, put her hand on the dog’s neck, and strained to see if someone was there. Shep continued to growl low in his throat.
“I’m here, Henry Ann.” Tom’s voice whispering from the darkness quickened her heartbeat.
“It is all right, Shep.”
She patted the dog’s head and moved on toward the man who appeared and held out his hand. Mindlessly, she put hers in it and allowed him to draw her deeper into the shadows. Shep followed. When they stopped and stood facing each other, the dog looked at his mistress and, deciding that she was where she wanted to be, lay down and dropped his head on his crossed paws.
“I was afraid you’d not come,” Tom said anxiously.
“I shouldn’t have. How were you able to leave the house?”
“Emmajean’s been sick with a cold and sleeps a lot since the night Johnny found her in the shed.” Tom held tightly to Henry Ann’s hand when she would have pulled it from his. “I need to have a talk with Doctor Hendricks. I’ll ask him to help me put her someplace where she won’t be a danger to herself and to others. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Did you find out how she got down to the Austins’ shed or who she was with?”
“No. She doesn’t say much of anything that makes sense. She says that her daddy is coming to take her to a party.”
“You can’t let her roam around at will. Some scoundrel may take advantage of her again.”
“I worry about that, but I can’t watch her every minute.”
“Jay never mentions her. It’s sad—”
“She asked one time where he was. I told her he was with friends, and she hasn’t asked again. She never wanted him—”
“He had a big day today. He was tired and went to . . . sleep—” Her words trailed off.
Tom was looking down at her. She felt a curious kind of panic as if her body, her mind, her soul were being merged with his. Long moments passed while her legs felt weak, her throat tight, and her eyes could focus on nothing but him. She was breathing fast, and so was he. She was unbearably aware of his towering strength.
“I’ve never loved a woman before. I think of you every minute of the day. I didn’t know it would be like this—both wonderful and like a knife in my heart.” The strangled voice sounded miles from her ears.
Abruptly he moved and gathered her into his arms. His mouth had found hers before she could turn her head. She felt his lips, his teeth, his tongue. She opened her mouth to his as the intimacy of the kiss increased and felt a strange helplessness in her limbs, as if he were absorbing her very being. A surge of sensual pleasure coursed through her. It was so strong, so unfamiliar . . . so wonderful that she feared her legs wouldn’t hold her.
“Sweetheart, this feels so . . . right, so good. I couldn’t wait to hold you—” He whispered the words, then feathered light kisses along her brow, her temples, and her chin.
Finally, when she thought that she could not bear the yearning an instant longer, she turned her mouth to meet his in a kiss that engaged her soul. His lips became demanding, and her own parted under them, admitting him, submitting. She touched the tip of her tongue delicately against his mouth and felt the tremor that shook him. Winding her arms tightly around his neck, she pressed the length of her body to his.
“I love you, my heart. I love you so very much.” The muttered words were barely coherent, thickly groaned in her ear as he kissed the bare warm curve of her neck, following it to her ear and back to the hollow in her shoulder. He cupped a hand behind her head, thrust strong fingers into the disarray of her hair, and drew her flushed face into his shoulder.
“This is unfair of me. I’ve given you the burden of my love. I’m sorry, my sweet, sweet, wonderful woman.” He stroked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Don’t be sorry, my dear . . . love. I’ll treasure your love for the rest of my life. How can all this be so . . . wrong?” Her mouth moved against the skin of his neck and the words came from the center of her being.
“Am I? Am I really your . . . love?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
“Yes. God forgive me. I love you, but you . . . belong to someone else.” With a deep sobbing breath, she hid her face against his neck.
“I don’t belong to her,” he replied quickly. “I never did. But, sweetheart, I’m tied to her. Please, let me have some time with you once in a while. And don’t stop caring for me. Right now you’re all that’s keeping me sane.”
Headlights swept across the yard and Grant drove the car from the road into the shed. Henry Ann backed out of Tom’s embrace.
“Grant’s come back from taking Karen home. He’ll be wondering where Shep is. He’s always on the back porch.”
“I thought that something was developing between them. I’m glad. I worried about Grant being here with you day after day. In my nightmares you fell in love with him.”
They watched Grant come from the car shed, cross the yard, and step up onto the porch. He paused, looked around, then went into the house.
“Do you think he knows I’m out here . . . with you?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” He cupped her cheek with his palm. “It kills me that we have to hide what we feel for each other.”
“Johnny is just now getting to like and respect me. If he thought I was trying to take . . . another woman’s . . . husband, he’d decide that I was like our mother after all.”
“I’ll talk to him, tell him I’m the one doing the pursuing. I’ll make sure that he knows that you’ve done nothing wrong. It’ll be all right. Johnny’s a levelheaded boy.”
“He saw a lot during his first fourteen years. I wasn’t sure that he’d ever straighten out.”
“He’s got a good head on his shoulders, learns fast, and he isn’t afraid to work. I’ll be happy if Jay grows up to be as good. Don’t worry about Johnny, sweetheart. If he finds out about us, I’ll explain that we fell in love with each other, but that we know for now it’s a hopeless situation.”
“It is hopeless, isn’t it?”
“I see only one way out. If I can get her into an institution, I may be able to get a divorce. But I know that her folks will fight me every step of the way.” He groaned as he pulled her to him. “I should go, but God, I hate to leave you.”
When he lowered his face, she raised hers. Their mouths met and were no longer gentle. They kissed deeply, hungrily. The kiss was slow and long, a joining of their hearts as well as their lips. She could feel the heavy beat of his heart and the pounding of her own.
“I want you to be mine,” he said in anguish against her mouth, her ear, her nose.
“I am yours!” Her hands moved frantically over his back, up to the nape of his neck. and into his thick dark hair. “I’ll be here for you . . . I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
His arms were wrapped around her, the palms of his hands on the sides of her breasts, his fingers stroking. She felt the breath expelled harshly from his lungs. She trembled beneath his touch, and her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to hold this big, dark, wild-haired man and comfort him.
“Can I come back?” The agonized plea was whispered against her cheek.
“Of course. As long as Jay is here—”
“To see you . . . and Jay. Sweetheart, I live for the times I’m alone with you.”
“We’ll find a way.”
“I’ll never give up the hope of spending the rest of my life with you.”
Summoning up all her willpower, Henry Ann drew back until only their hands were touching.
“I must go.”
“I’ll see you to the porch.”
“No. Shep will be with me.”
She turned and stumbled away from him while she still had the strength to leave him. She crossed the yard in the moonlight, not caring if Johnny or Grant looked out the window and saw her.
* * *
Chris Austin parked the car in the open shed and sat for a moment, preparing himself for the battle ahead. A light in the kitchen told him that his mother, and possibly his father, was waiting for him. Mrs. Miller had, no doubt, done what he had known she would do when she saw him with Opal at Henry Ann’s.
When Chris opened the screen door and stepped into the well-lighted kitchen, he blinked, then saw his parents sitting at the kitchen table.
“What are you two doing up this time of night?” he asked, well aware of why they were waiting for him.
“I think you know,” Mrs. Austin retorted. “Have you no concern for your daddy? He works hard and needs his rest. The least you could do would be to leave . . . to get home at a decent hour.”
“It’s only ten o’clock.” Chris spun a chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. “Mrs. Miller, the town gossip, saw me at Henry Ann’s with Opal Hastings and her little girl. I doubt that her dress-tail touched her behind before she told you. For once the old biddy didn’t lie. That’s the reason you two waited up for me. It’s the reason why you’re as mad as a couple of hornets. So get whatever you want to say, said. I’m going to bed.”