Authors: Pamela Morsi
}"I don't
have
to take your side, Tulsy," he said. "But I always will."
}The moment was sweet and fresh and lightened Tulsa May's heart as Latin poems and sweet summer music never could.
}A jackrabbit scampered across the road in front of them, startling them and breaking into the moment.
}"So did you love him?" Luther asked a moment later.
}"What?"
}"Odie Foote, remember? Moldy Doc Odie... did you love him?"
}Tulsa May ignored the silly nickname.
}"I... well, yes, of course I did, but—"
}"Not 'yes, of course,' " Luther corrected sharply. "There are plenty of things not to love about Odie Foote."
}Tulsa May nodded and with a sigh made a painful admission. "I guess I didn't love him as I should have. I wanted to be married, I suppose. I feel more disappointed than anything else."
}Tulsa May looked down at her gloves again. She hoped her confession didn't make Luther pity her too.
}"Good!" Luther said decisively. "He is no great catch, Tulsy. He is the most boring man I've ever tried to converse with, he's as old-fashioned as Old Man Bowman, and he smells of antiseptic."
}"He's a doctor! He can't help that he smells like one."
}Luther gave her a nod of approval. "You defend him bravely, but I do think things have turned out for the best."
}She hesitated before nodding agreement. "Honestly, you are right. He would have been quite disappointed with me and I would have been miserable with him."
}"Then all's well that ends well."
}"Undoubtedly so," Tulsa May agreed. "I just wish the whole town of Prattville didn't look at me as if they were fearful that I'm likely to drown myself in the river."
}Luther reached out to raise her chin. When her bright penny-brown eyes met his vivid blue ones, he smiled.
}"Oh, I think I've got an idea of how we can stop the talk around town."
}"You can never
stop
talk," she told him, shaking her head. "It's like a river. It's going to run its course and we just have to be patient and let it pass by."
}Luther nodded. "There's some truth to that. But the world is not the simple creation of nature anymore. Civilization has learned a thing or two about rivers. We can dig them deeper, dam them up, or divert their course."
}Tulsa May looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
}"I have a plan."
}"A plan? What kind of plan?" She sounded suspicious.
}"Now, Tulsy, when you wanted to read Mr. Lawrence's scandalous book, I went to Guthrie and bought it for you, didn't I?"
}"Yes."
}"When you decided that you wanted to do something worthwhile for the community, who introduced you to Erwin Willers and helped you convince him that a woman could be as good a newspaper reporter as a man?"
}"You did."
}"And when you wanted the freedom to come and go as you pleased, but Rev wouldn't let you have your own rig, I gave you this Runabout."
}"And I do appreciate it."
}"If you really want Moldy Odie Foote, Tulsy, I'd see that you'd get the smelly old coot."
}Tulsa May gave him a bright, winning smile. "What do you plan to do? Beat the poor man to a pulp and drag him down the aisle?"
}Luther grinned. "It would have been a pleasure."
}She giggled.
}"But you don't really want him. We've established that, I believe. And we can't dam up that river of town gossip," he said easily. "But we can divert it in another direction entirely."
}"How are you going to do that?"
}"The age-old cure for blighted romances. There is no stronger stimulant for a change in gossip. You, Tulsy, are getting a brand-new beau."
}She shook her head in disbelief. "A new beau? I don't think that is very likely. Odie Foote is the only gentleman caller I ever had."
}"Well, you just found yourself a new one."
}"Who?"
}"Why, myself, dearest Tulsy," he answered with a comically high-toned affectation. "If I might be so bold."
}Tulsa May laughed out loud. "Oh, Luther, you are teasing."
}"I am completely serious."
}"It will never work, you know," she said with complete conviction. "There is no chance that we can make anyone believe that you are my new gentleman caller."
}Luther grinned confidently. "Of course we can. Where is your legendary optimism? A few Sunday drives like this, a willing escort to church, and an occasional stroll through the park. The matrons in Prattville will be stumbling over each other to spread the news."
}Tulsa May's expression was still skeptical. "No one in this town would ever believe that you could be calling on me. We've been friends too long."
}"When it comes to matters of the heart, friendship can turn to romance in the blink of an eye."
}"But still, Luther, I don't think anyone would think that of you, of us. I mean, well..." She hesitated awkwardly. "Couples, well, couples seem to go together. They match, so to speak. Do you understand what I'm saying? They are both very godly or they're both avid hunters or they enjoy flower gardens. They seem as if they belong together. And we... I mean you and I... well, we just don't look right together. People would find it strange. I'm so plain and blunt spoken and you, well.. ." She took a deep, determined breath. "If you must know, every female in Prattville, whether she's dressed in pinafores or widow's weeds, is pining away in love for you."
}Luther stared at her for a long moment and then threw his head back and roared with laughter.
}"It's true," Tulsa May insisted. "All the young ladies at church think
you
are the fish to catch."
}Luther looked down at her. "Fish to catch?" He chuckled lightly, as if at some private joke. "I think the young ladies of the church are trying to lure me with the wrong bait."
}Tulsa May looked at him curiously.
}"Anyway," he continued, "what the young ladies think is unimportant. It's the thinking of their mothers and fathers that we must concern ourselves with." He hesitated as if unsure whether to speak his mind. "Tulsy, I have ... well, I have a reputation of sorts with ... ah ... women that are of tarnished regard."
}Tulsa May's eyes widened in shock.
}Luther cleared his throat self-consciously. "I'm sure that many of the men in town will be aware of that, even if the more innocent young members of the congregation are not."
}"A reputation?" Tulsa May looked at her closest friend as if she had never seen him before.
}"It's not a particularly good reputation," he said quietly. "And, well, I guess everyone knows that when a fellow with a bit of a past thinks to settle down, he'll pick a gal that's sweet and pure. Something different from the females he's been around."
}Tulsa May nodded, still slightly befuddled.
}"Everybody in this town, Tulsy, thinks you are the brightest shine since sunrise. And you are just the kind of gal a man marries."
}Tulsa May frowned uneasily.
}With a natural grace, Luther laid his arm along the back of the seat and gently squeezed her shoulder.
}"You would make a wonderful wife for a man mending his bachelor ways, Tulsy. And I think everyone in Prattville can see that."
}The feel of his hand on her shoulder warmed her and touched her in some deep part of her Soul that she never allowed herself to examine. Luther Briggs to court her? Even if it was only a sham, the idea of it gave her heart a fluttery thrill that could not be excused away by any rational argument. She looked up at him and swallowed nervously.
}"I don't know, Luther," she said. "It seems like a mighty big lie to get into."
}Luther smiled down at her. "If you were to listen to every lie told in this town, you'd go deaf in a week from overwork."
}Tulsa May still seemed unsure, but Luther was not. The plan had come to him in a flash, but he knew that it would work. He would make it work. Gently, he squeezed her shoulder again. He would do anything to make his Tulsy happy.
}They had known each other since Luther and Arthel had come to Prattville ten years before. After their father had died, they had expected to be taken in by their grandmother, Maimie Briggs. But Miss Maimie, as she was called by everyone, had never approved of her son's marriage to a Cherokee woman so she had rejected her grandsons. Luther had been devastated.
}Tulsa May had made them feel welcome that first day, as the two of them had sat sadly in the kitchen of the old Briggs mansion, waiting in vain for their grandmother to ask for them.
}"You can stay with us!" Tulsa May had insisted immediately.
}What Reverend Bruder had thought of that solution, Luther never really knew. But he and his brother were graciously welcomed into the parsonage and lived there for almost a year before Luther found work that was steady enough to support himself and Arthel. Luther had always been grateful to Reverend Bruder and his wife, Constance, but he'd loved Tulsa May, his Tulsy, as the younger sister he never had.
}"It'll be like taking candy from a baby," he assured her. "I'll parade you around town a bit, take you on a picnic, sit with you on the porch in the moonlight, and folks in this town will forget Doc Odie ever even called on you."
}"But then how will we get out of it?"
}"Don't worry," he assured her. "Once I've shown an interest in you, the other young bucks will be taking a second look. When you see one you like, you break it off with me and no one will be the wiser."
}She rubbed one of the buttons on her gloves, worried. She wasn't sure it would be that easy.
}* * *
}Ruggy's Lowtown Saloon was dark and dank and smelled of sweaty bodies and stale beer. For a bar, the atmosphere was perfect. Luther squinted, his eyes adjusting,to the dim interior. He made his way to the bar and grinned at the barkeep, an old black man who was polishing barrel-bottom beer goblets with a faded red checked towel. Garbed in a fancy dress shirt, a black corded neck scarf, and a bar apron, Conrad Ruggy dressed as formally in his role as a saloonkeeper as he had as Miss Maimie's butler.
}"Evening, Mr. Ruggy," Luther said as he seated himself at the bar in front of the older man. "Did we have a good day or a stinker?"
}The old man's face crinkled into a broad grin. "Some of it's been good," he answered. "And some of it has been stinkin'."
}Luther laughed. "I suppose you plan to tell me which is which."
}Conrad Ruggy and his wife, Mattie, had worked for Miss Maimie Briggs for as long as anybody could remember. Since it was traditional to leave faithful servants a legacy, the folks in Prattville were highly surprised that Miss Maimie's will did not mention her servants at all.
}"I want to settle some money on you," Luther had told the old man after the will was read. "I don't claim to have ever understood Miss Maimie, but I know that you should have some money to keep you in your golden years."
}Ruggy had chuckled and shook his head. "I don't plan to have no golden years, boy," he said. "I've been black all my life and I see no evidence that I'll be changing any time soon."
}"But I want—" Luther had begun, only to be interrupted by the older man.
}"What I want, boy, is a job. A good job that I can go to every day and keep my mind busy and make a living for my wife and me. I don't need much pay, just a mite. Just enough so that I don't ever have to live off my little Maud and her man."
}Luther nodded, understanding, but scratched his chin as he thought. "Do you know anything about machines, Mr. Ruggy?"
}Conrad had laughed. "You mean like that silly horseless of Miss Maimie's? Lord no, I don't know a thing and don't intend to neither." Ruggy folded his hands across his chest and eyed Luther. "I heard you bought that rundown beer parlor down in the Lowtown."
}Luther shrugged. "Just bought it for the building. I thought I might fix it up for a warehouse."
}"Now, why would you want to do that, boy? Don't you know that the beer business is the most steady in the world, good times and bad?"
}"I don't know a thing about beer parlors," Luther admitted.
}"Well, boy," Conrad said quietly. "I suspect that this is your lucky day. 'Cause I was raised behind a bar. And I'll set that one up and run it for you."