Night Journey (20 page)

Harry exhaled with relief. Ivy giggled and clapped her hands, then together they walked up to redeem their supper. Harry could feel Dr. Baker’s eyes boring a hole through his back, but he’d never felt so happy in his life. He might have to eat nothing but beans for the next month, but it would be worth it.

He’d just made the best investment of his life—and maybe the worst enemy.

Harry finished the last dollop of potato salad, gnawed one more time on a drumstick, and then wiped his mouth and fingers on his handkerchief before reaching for dessert. He took a bite of apple pie. Umm. Scrumptious. The flaky crust and sweet-yet-spicy flavor tickled his taste buds. Had he died and gone to heaven?

He felt guilty because he’d eaten most of the food himself, but Ivy didn’t seem to mind his healthy appetite. A sweet, beautiful angel and she could cook, too. How lucky could a man be?

“Is the pie all right?”

“Mm hm.” Harry nodded, his mouth too full to give a dignified answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry Harry.” Ivy’s pretty little brow wrinkled as she apologized. “I hate it when people ask me questions while I’m eating.”

He swallowed and then replied. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have wolfed it down so fast. Haven’t had nothin’ to eat this good in I don’t know when.”

Ivy’s eyes sparkled. “I’m so glad you like it. I’m just sorry you had to pay so much.” She shook her head. “That was a sinful amount of money.”

“It was worth every penny. I just wish you’d eaten more.”

“Harry, I appreciate you stopping Dr. Baker from buying my box supper. I just don’t think I would have been able to stand it if I’d been forced to sit with him. I wouldn’t have eaten
anything
if he’d been the winner.” Ivy shuddered. “I’ll try to pay you back somehow.”

“Oh, no,” Harry protested. “Don’t even think that way. If I hadn’t wanted to bid on your dinner box, I wouldn’t have done it.”

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile just before Clyde and Tyme came back to the table, panting from the exertion of the square dance. Clyde picked up a piece of crust with a little apple filling on it and popped it into his mouth.

“Hey, quit stealin’,” protested Harry, slapping at his hand.

“Mm-mm-mm,” said Clyde as he licked his fingers. “Got any more?”

“You got forty-five dollars?” Harry countered.

“Oh, baby, don’t eat Harry’s pie,” Tyme purred, rubbing her hand along Clyde’s back. “
I’ll
bake you a pie of your own. Do you want cherry, apple, or lemon?”

“Whatever ya got in the pantry.” Clyde gave Tyme a big, sloppy kiss. She giggled and kissed him back.

“Are you two gonna sit here all night?” asked Tyme when she came back up for air. “They’re hitchin’ a wagon for a hay ride up the mountain. We’ll be able to see the fireworks better from there. Ya’ll wanta go?”

Harry looked at Ivy and she nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

Moments later they were all nestled in a mountain of fresh hay. The wagon was old and it had squeaky wheels, but it overflowed with young people eager for a ride in the moonlight. The wagon creaked and groaned as the last couple climbed aboard. The mules snorted and stamped their feet as they waited for the driver’s signal to push off.

Harry’s whole body tingled with excitement when the wagon jerked forward and Ivy fell against him. He smiled and put his arm around her and she snuggled close. He gave her a little squeeze, realizing that with her at his side, he was truly happy.

Darkness descended and the lights of town grew distant and faint. Guided only by the silvery light of the crescent moon and an occasional pulsing firefly, the mule team plodded up the steep mountain road. The atmosphere in the wagon was charged with excitement and a festive spirit as the people laughed and chattered happily. Somebody began singing
The Bear Went Over the Mountain
and several others joined in. Soon the raucous noise drowned out the shrill song of the bullfrogs and cicadas.

“Ride’s not too rough, is it?” asked Harry. His teeth chattered from the bouncing of the wagon. He didn’t mind it himself, but he didn’t want Ivy to suffer any discomfort.

“Couldn’t be better.” Ivy reached for his free hand and laced her fingers through his.

He leaned back on the hay, held her close, and gazed up at the stars. Contentment. That’s what he felt right now. If he had his way, this moment would last forever.

Harry glanced over at Clyde and Tyme. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but all he could see was the outline of their bodies, molded together in a passionate embrace. Ivy squeezed his hand. His pulse quickened and his temperature rose.

He turned toward her and lightly touched her hair with his lips. She trembled and turned toward him. Her eyes and alabaster skin gleamed in the moonlight. She looked innocent and trusting and he hesitated, not wanting to move too fast, yet his self-control slipped away.

He ran his fingers down her hairline and found her chin. He tilted it up and lowered his mouth until it found hers. She returned his kiss and a sweet, burning ache traveled throughout his body, turning his limbs into jelly and flipping his heart upside down.

When their lips parted, Ivy buried her face against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. He never wanted to let her go. If he were to die right now, he’d go to meet his maker a happy man. He nestled against the hay, tightened his grip on Ivy, and stared at the stars.

“Ivy, look.” Harry pointed toward the sky. “I just saw a shooting star.”

“Quick! Make a wish.” She turned around, and then pointed upward in excitement. “Look! There’s another one!”

Harry sucked in his breath. The second star came from the opposite direction, and its trail of light crossed the first one’s path. This must indeed be his lucky night. He closed his eyes and silently made his wish.

He cuddled her and asked, “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you, silly. If I do, it won’t come true.”

“Do you want to know my wish?”

“No, Harry.” She giggled and buried her head in his chest again. “And don’t you dare tell me.”

Harry laughed and kissed the top of her head. He’d never felt this way about any woman before, never believed he could be so lucky. Up to this point, his life had been a mad scramble for survival; a constant challenge of keeping himself and his family fed from one day to the next. He thought of all the days and nights he’d spent riding the rails, traveling from one town to the next, hoping to find work of any kind. He remembered the months he’d spent hoping that the folks in the next place he came across in his wanderings would be kind enough to trade a little food for some chopped wood or slopped hogs, and maybe even let him spend the night in their barn.

Harry thought about the girls he’d known in his life. Although he was well past twenty-one, there hadn’t been many. When he was sixteen his family had worked as sharecroppers in West Texas and he’d had a big crush on the landowner’s daughter. But she’d been nothing but trouble—sassy and bold and wild. She’d turned out to be the kind of girl who could turn a man’s heart inside out and then walk right over it and go find another guy before the first fella knew what hit him.

He’d been wary of romance after that. There’d been lots of opportunities while he’d lived the hobo life, but he just didn’t feel right about casual matings. All the other fellas he knew jumped at every opportunity when they found a willing female, but he didn’t want to deal with the consequences. Too many of the guys he knew came away with embarrassing itches or worse. Over the years he’d learned the benefits of a brisk walk or quick dips in a cold pond when he felt the need to stifle his urges.

The wagon jerked to a stop and people began to pile out. Harry helped Ivy down and brushed the hay from his clothes. Tyme jumped off the large bag she’d been sitting on, pulled out a blanket, and handed it to Harry.

“Here you go. I thought we could use a blanket or two.” A flash of blue lit up the sky and Tyme motioned toward a secluded area. “Oh, good, the fireworks are starting. Clyde and I are gonna wander around a bit. That looks like a good spot over there for you two.” Tyme winked at Ivy and then disappeared with Clyde into the darkness.

Harry led Ivy away from the others and spread the blanket on the ground. They sat down and Ivy leaned her head against Harry’s chest. He put his arm around her and lowered his head until it rested against hers. He knew other people were around, but he and Ivy were the only two humans in the world, as far as Harry was concerned.

“Oohh! That’s a good one.” Harry pointed toward a bright orange sunburst in the sky, followed in rapid succession by a green one, a huge red burst, and then a shower of whistling white sparkles. The noise of the blasts echoed throughout the hills.

“Um hm. I love fireworks. Papa took me to see them every year at the Veiled Prophet parade in St. Louis.” Ivy shivered and glanced down at her hands. “It was a year ago tonight I met Jared.”

“Is that the guy your mother was talking about?” A sense of desolation washed over him at the thought of Ivy with another man.

“Yes, but what my mother said isn’t true. I didn’t flirt with him and lead him on.” Ivy’s tone was pleading. “I never wanted him. My parents insisted I be a debutante, and he saw me at the ball and decided he wanted me. I went around with him for quite a while, just to please my parents; but the more I got to know him, the less I liked him. He had the
nerve
to go to Papa and ask for my hand in marriage, without even consulting me. But I am not—I repeat
not
—going to marry him.”

“That’s okay.” Harry patted her on the shoulder. “I believe you.”

He kissed her again and it was just as sweet as the last time. He didn’t want to stop, he wanted to keep kissing her forever. But the place where they sat was too public and his passion too heated, so he tore himself away when he heard the yells and claps from the other people as a volley of Roman candles whizzed and squealed and burst in the air.

They sat quietly for several moments holding each other, their bodies close, enjoying the splendor of the Independence Day celebration. Ivy was the first to break the silence.

“Harry, tell me about yourself. I want to know everything.”

Harry had never been much for talking about himself. What was there to tell? “You want to know my life story?”

“Yes. Where do you come from? What was your family like? That sort of thing.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell.” He looked up at the glowing fireworks. “Let’s see. I was born and raised not too far from here. My Pa had a little farm over in Siloam Springs and he was a Primitive Baptist preacher.”

“Oh, my. Did he have his own church?”

“No, he was more of a circuit preacher. He farmed for a living and every time there was a fifth Sunday in a month, he’d travel to other churches and preach. He never got paid, he did it out of love and because of his calling.”

“He sounds like a wonderful man.” Ivy sighed and gazed at the dancing lights in the sky. “My religious upbringing was very confusing.”

“Oh?”

Ivy smiled. “Papa is a Presbyterian and Mama is Catholic. Need I say more?”

Harry laughed. “Well, that does make for differences in opinions.”

“Tell me more, Harry. Tell me about your mother.”

“Okay, if you insist. Wow! Look at that.” Harry pointed to a giant fountain of sparkling white flames before resuming his tale. “Let’s see. Okay. Ma worked hard to keep everything going, and you never saw her without a smile on her face or a song on her lips. No matter how hard the times got, she was always optimistic and happy.”

“Sure sounds different from my mother.”

“Well, I got the impression your ma has faced a lot of sorrow in her life and just doesn’t know how to be happy. I think she’s dealing with an awful lot of pain and nobody understands, because on the surface she’s got everything so good. But deep down, she’s wounded. Not everybody is born knowing how to deal with sorrow.”

Ivy gasped and looked at Harry. “Do you think that’s why she’s always putting on that she’s sick all the time? I never thought about it that way. I just thought she was self-centered and childish. It never occurred to me that she was sad. Don’t they call that melancholia?”