Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (28 page)

Looking into silver eyes, which squinted down at her through thick dark lashes, Leona thanked God that Andy had saved his life, and that he had come here and she'd had the chance to know him. She had not imagined there was a man like him and now, in just a few short weeks, he was woven into the very fabric of her life, making her aware of him every minute of the day, making her depend on him.

Making her love him!

She wound her arms tightly around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. Fear trickled through her. He would leave when Andy came home. He would take her heart with him.

Would she be able to bear it?

Isaac ran most of the way home. His heart pounded with the fear that his father would discover he had let his cousin out of the shed and had taken her home. He stopped beneath a big pecan tree at the edge of the yard.

Thank goodness his pa's truck was not beside the shed. He almost cried with relief. The doctor's car, however, was parked in the road in front of the house.

Isaac removed his boots when he reached the edge of the porch, tiptoed to the door and eased it open. He moved quickly into the room where his brothers lay in his parents' bed and pulled off his shirt. After waiting a few minutes to calm his breathing, he went to stand in the doorway of the room where his brother lay, rasping sounds coming from his open mouth.

Doctor Langley sat in a chair beside the bed holding Paul's wrist in his hand. Hazel was on the other side of the bed. Tears rolled from her eyes but she made no sound. When she saw Isaac in the doorway, she held her hand out to him and he went to her. She pulled him down onto the bed beside her. He couldn't take his eyes off his brother's face. He would never forget the sight of the small boy gasping for breath.

Minutes turned into an hour and suddenly the rasping sound ceased. The doctor placed Paul's hand on the bed, stood and put his stethoscope to his chest. The room was quiet. Isaac knew his mother was holding her breath. When finally the doctor looked up and shook his head, she let go a long agonizing sob and held Isaac so tightly, he thought his bones would break.

The doctor covered Paul with a sheet, then took Hazel by the arm and led her out of the room. When he left a half hour later, Doctor Langley carried Paul's body wrapped in the sheet and carefully placed it on the backseat of his car.

Isaac stood on the porch with his mother and watched the taillights on the doctor's car fade in the distance.

“Are yore brothers all right?”

“Yes, ma'am. I been feelin their heads like ya told me.”

“Did you take the girl home?”

“Yes, ma'am. She won't tell where she's been. She promised.”

“I don't care if she tells,” his mother said in a strangely calm voice.

“But, Mama, he'll…know I let her out.”

“He'll not touch you, Isaac. He'll not touch you and he'll not touch the other boys. I'll kill him first.”

He had never heard his mother speak in that tone of voice. In the dim lamplight flowing out onto the porch, he looked at her and realized that she looked old and drawn with grief, but different somehow. Her back was straighter, her head up.

“Why did he want her here, Ma? Folks would know that he took her and the law would be after him, 'cause he has no right to Andy Connors's kids.”

“He's always had a strange way of thinkin' about thin's. I don't know why.”

Isaac and Hazel sat on the porch, both dreading to go back into the house where Paul had lain for the past three days burning up with fever and gasping for breath. Time passed. The sliver of moon had long ago disappeared from the dark sky. Isaac could not remember ever being up this late or being alone with his ma. Usually the other kids or his pa were here. Tonight she had depended on him. Although he could barely keep his eyes open, he was determined not to leave her alone.

It was long past midnight when the headlights of a car came in sight. Isaac shook with fear. His father was coming home.

“He's comin, Ma.”

His mother didn't say anything, as she watched the truck approach. It stopped in the lane beside the house and Virgil got out. He could see them plainly in the light flowing out onto the porch from the window.

“What's all those lights on for? I turned the electric off 'cause I knowed you'd be wastin' it. Now yo're wastin' the kerosene.” He stood back from the porch. When Hazel didn't answer, he took a step nearer.

“Don't come any closer,” she said. “I don't think I can stand to look at yore face.”

Her words shocked Virgil speechless for a moment. Then he said, “What'er ya talkin' about. What's got into ya?”

“Somethin' what should'a got into me long ago. Where've ya been?”

“We're havin' a all-night prayer service for Paul. Folks is a prayin' hard and—”

“Too late.”

“Too late? It's never too late for God's—what'a ya mean too late?”

“Just what I said.”

“He's gone?”

“Gone.” She uttered the word as if it was something nasty in her mouth.

“Gone,” he repeated. He stood there with his hands on his hips, then said, “Well, it was God's will.”

“Come on, Isaac.”

Hazel got to her feet and pulled on her son's hand. When they went into the house, she slammed the door and doused the lamp in the front room, then the ones in the kitchen and bedroom. Still holding to Isaac's hand as if it were a lifeline and she was being washed away in a flood, she went to stand in the kitchen window that looked out toward the shed.

Virgil came to the back porch and lit the lantern, then with a paper sack in his hand he went to the shed and began tossing the stove-wood from in front of the door. He opened the door and stepped inside. Almost immediately he came out. He stood for a minute then came toward the house.

“Hazel,” he shouted. “Hazel,” he yelled again when he received no answer. He stomped up onto the porch.

Hazel moved quickly to latch the screen. “Shut yore mouth!” she said sharply. “It ain't respectful to be brayin like a jackass.”

Virgil backed off the porch. “Has anybody been around here tonight?”

“The doctor.”

“Did he go to the shed?”

“Why'd he go out there for?”

“Did he go out there?” Virgil said, careful to keep his voice down.

“No.”

“Get Isaac out here.”

“Isaac's gone to bed.” Hazel pushed her son toward the bedroom.

“Get him up.”

“No.”

“No? No? Ya sayin' no to me, woman.”

“I'm sayin' no, like ya said no when I wanted the doctor for Paul.”

“So that's it. Yo're blamin' me 'cause God saw fit to take him to his heavenly home.”

“I'm blamin' ya for that and for whippin' him.”

“He needed the whippin'. It was his time to go and there wasn't no mortal man goin' to keep God from takin' him. 'Twas God's will.”

“Then it was God's will that ya lost whatever ya had in the shed.”

“What'a ya know about what I had in the shed? Ya been out here?”

“I was tendin' a sick boy, whose pa had left strop marks across his little back that he'll take to the grave. A
Christian pa
who wouldn't let me spend the money Joseph gave me to pay for a doctor.”

Her words and the venom in her voice angered Virgil, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do about it now.

“I'll go to town and tell the folks to pray for his soul.”

“They'd better be prayin' for yours. It's blacker than coal dust.”

Hazel slammed the heavy back door and shot the bolt, locking it. She groped her way in the dark until she reached a kitchen chair where she sat at the table with her head in her arms and cried as she had not done since she was a child. She cried for her little boy who was gone from her forever. She cried for her other two boys who had left home because of their pa. She cried because she had been so stupid as to let it happen.

She didn't even raise her head when she heard the old truck start up, back out and head for town.

Virgil was seething with rage. The boy was dead, and Hazel blamed him for not getting the doctor sooner. It just proved that a woman's mind did not function logically, nor did it have the capacity to fully understand God's word. It was the boy's time to go.

“Receive Paul to thy bosom, O Lord,” he prayed aloud as he drove into town. “He was a good boy. I saw to it.”

Virgil stopped at the church, got out and looked in the window. There were two people kneeling at the altar; neither one of them was Wayne Ham. In the morning would be time enough to tell them that the boy had already passed over.

He got back into the car and drove around the courthouse. When he didn't see Wayne's car, he drove to the edge of town where the deputy lived in a neat little house with his wife, whose main interest in life was her vegetable and flower gardens. Wayne's car was parked beside the house.

Virgil didn't hesitate. He shut off the motor, walked up to the house and pounded on the door. After a minute or two a light came on in the back of the house. Wayne came to the door in his underwear, saw who it was and stepped out onto the porch. There was enough light for Virgil to see that the deputy was not happy about being roused this time of night.

“What the heck do you want?” Wayne said in a low, raspy voice.

“My kid died.” There was the appropriate catch in Virgil's voice.

“I'm sorry about that. When did it happen?”

“Tonight while I was at the prayer meetin'.” In the next breath, he said, “The girl's gone.”

“Gone? Where'd she go?”

“I don't know. A board was kicked out of the shed and she got out. You gotta help me find her.”

“Virgil, I'm not helping you anymore. McChesney will have my job if he finds out what I've already done. They've got searchers out all over the country looking for the girl. There's even a twenty-five-dollar reward to the one who brings her home. That tall-drink-of-water at the garage put it up. I'm not wanting to tangle with him again.”

“Fine friend you are. You started it all.”

“And I regret it. I found her and took her to a relative. I didn't tell you to lock her up.”

“You knew I was goin' to.”

“Don't name me in this, Virgil. I'm warnin' you.”

“God help you, Brother Ham. You've backslid clear to the bottom of sinners' row. The brothers and sisters at the church are goin' to be disappointed in you. You've been smokin, too. I can smell it.”

“What if I have? It's no business of yours.”

“It's God's business. I'll pray for you.”

“You'd better pray that you find that girl and get her home before something bad happens to her.”

“God is tryin me. He surely is. Hazel blames me 'cause I didn't get the doctor in time for Paul,” he whined.

Wayne Ham was silent.

“God was goin' to take him anyhow. Warn't no use spendin' money gettin' a doctor.”

“Wayne.” The call came from the back of the house. “Are you going out?”

“No. I'll be in in a minute,” he called, then to Virgil, “Stop your yammering and go look for the girl. If you find her, take her back to Andy's. As far as I can tell, your sister—”

“Is a whore,” Virgil snapped.

“You don't know that.”

“I know it! I knew it for God told me to get the little girls out of that den of sin and shame.”

“Has anyone told ya she put out for 'em?”

“A man wouldn't tell a thin' like that. Why'd you think them fellers is hangin' round her for? There ain't but one thin' that'd keep that Texan out there—free pussy.”

“That's a downright nasty thing to say 'bout your sister! But if she's willin' to screw around with him, it ain't no skin off my nose.”

“She's shamin' the Dawson name! Ya know it's what she's doin.”

“She's a grown woman, Virgil. You've got no say in what she does.”

“By granny, I've plenty of say. I'm still head of the Dawson family.”

“That's between you and her and has nothin' to do with me. Go on, now. My wife will be out here wonderin' what's goin' on.”

All Wayne wanted to do was get Virgil off his porch. It would be all right with him if he never saw the bastard again. Lately he'd been nothing but trouble. One thing was sure, if Virgil dragged him into this mess and caused him to lose his job, he'd make him sorry!

Sssh …it! He'd give a whole dollar for a cigarette.

Chapter 23

D
EKE LEFT AT DAYLIGHT AND,
knowing they were in for a hot day, Yates was at the well pumping water into the bathing tank for the girls to splash in when the sheriff's car pulled up beside the house and Rex McChesney got out

“Morning.”

“You're out early. But it isn't necessary. Ruth Ann came home last night.”

The sheriff didn't act surprised. “Where had she been?”

“She didn't say.”

“Didn't you ask her? Some folks went to a lot of trouble looking for her.”

“But not you.”

“Hell, I told you she would probably come home. Nine times out of ten a runaway comes back after a day.”

Yates adjusted the conduit and continued pumping. “Yeah, ya told me that.”

“Well?”

“Well, what? Are you wanting me to tell you how smart you were not to go out and get all sweaty looking for her?”

“You're a real asshole. You know that?”

“I've been told that I was. I'm not convinced.”

“Virgil Dawson's boy died last night.”

“Diphtheria?”

“Yeah. Six cases in town as of yesterday.”

“How do they handle a funeral in a case like this?”

“Only the immediate family at the grave site. Better find out where Andy's girl has been. If she's been anywhere near a sick child she should see the doctor.”

“I'll tell Leona.”

“You do that.” The sheriff turned back to his car.

“Sheriff,” Yates called. “If Virgil Dawson comes pestering Miss Dawson and Andy's girls again, I'll have his balls hanging on the clothesline before he can bat an eye. That goes for your deputy, too.”

“If that should happen, you'll be in my jail before
you
can bat an eye.”

“What about self-defense?” Yates grinned.

“Never heard of it.”

Yates continued to work the pump handle as the sheriff's car left the yard. He had finished filling the tank and was pulling away the conduit when Margie came out of the barn, with a full pail of milk.