Authors: Dorothy Garlock
In all his life Ben had never cared for anyone, nor had anyone cared for him, until Odette. It had taken him a while to get
used to being responsible for a young girl. She had instantly become enamored of the idea that he was her father and had insisted
on calling him “Papa.”
Ben’s thoughts turned to Dory Callahan and her daughter. There had been a sparkle in Dory’s eyes this morning. A fascinating
dimple appeared in her cheek when she smiled with her lips still pressed together. The woman had had a rough time, but it
hadn’t broken her spirit. He wondered why she stayed here and took her brother’s abuse. Surely with her share of the company
money she could live in town.
Ben looked down at his plate. He couldn’t afford to feel any sympathy for Dory, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from her
tall, graceful body when she moved from the stove to the table. Her waist was small, her breasts rounded and swaying gently
beneath the loose shirt. Her head, with its tangle of wild, tight curls, rode proudly on her slender neck. She was a handsome,
capable woman. If what her brother said about her was true, he was sure to hear about it from the other men, although it didn’t
matter to him what she was as long as she was kind to Odette.
It was strange, Ben thought. A man can fornicate every day of the week, but if a woman does so one time, she is branded forever
as a slut.
“I said, how long will it take to get the donkey goin’?” Louis’s irritated voice broke into Ben’s thoughts.
“Depends.” Ben drank the last of his coffee.
“On what?” Louis insisted.
“On a number of things. We can have the engine going in a week or two if you have the right tools. It’ll take longer to set
it in place and anchor it. Longer yet to train the men to operate it. It’s a dangerous machine.”
“Well, let’s get goin’.” Louis set his mug down on the table with unnecessary force. He stood and glared at Dory. “Don’t you
be lettin’ in ever’ jaybird that comes by. Hear?” he growled.
Although Dory felt as if her nerves were being ground to the raw ends, she ignored him and looked at Ben. “Don’t worry about
Odette.”
“Get her to talk aloud if you can. She’s real stingy with words. If there’s something she doesn’t understand, write it down.
She reads and writes real good.”
“I know. She read aloud to Jeanmarie last night.”
Ben looked surprised. “She did? She’s not done that before that I know of. Of course, we’ve not had access to many books.”
Had Louis not been there, she would have told him how glad she was to have his daughter’s company, but she didn’t dare for
fear Louis would find a way to take this little bit of pleasure from her.
Odette came to stand beside Ben, her face tilted up, her large cornflower eyes on his face. The small girl’s head barely came
to her father’s shoulder.
“I’ll be back in a few days.” Ben cuffed his daughter gently on the chin with his fist. “You can count on it.”
“Be careful, Papa.”
“I will. Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Papa.”
Louis stood scowling beside the door and jerked it open when Ben came toward him. The glance he threw his sister was malignant.
Ben paused and spoke to Dory.
“Thanks for the breakfast and for looking after my girl.” He spoke coolly and there appeared to be what she considered a warning
glint in his eyes.
“You’re quite welcome, Mr. Waller,” she replied just as coolly.
As she watched the men leave, Dory pondered the coolness in Ben’s voice and decided the big man would make a formidable enemy.
He had a quick mind and would be a match for men such as Louis and Milo who were filled with latent viciousness. He was shrewd
and tough under that quiet exterior. He was the kind of man who remained alive by knowing what to expect and from what direction
to expect it.
She looked forward to seeing him again.
The next ten days were boisterous and happy at the Callahan homestead. For the two women and the child they were carefree
days of fun and laughter. Dory and Jeanmarie enjoyed Odette’s company so much that they were almost giddy. Dory taught her
to crochet, to make bread, and to pop the corn she brought up from the cellar beneath the house. They made taffy candy one
afternoon, and while pulling it, Odette laughed so hard she fell back into a chair, covering her face with her buttery hands—which
evoked even more laughter. Odette taught Jeanmarie how to cut a string of paper dolls out of an old newspaper and how to lace
her fingers to make a church and a steeple. In the evening after the child had gone to bed, she and Dory sewed on the new
dress material.
Sid Hancs, a mill worker and one of Milo’s cronies, knocked on the kitchen door one morning. He was a short man, stockily
built with wide shoulders and long arms. When he came to the house with Milo, his faded blue eyes roamed over Dory like a
dog salivating over a bone. She detested him.
“What do you want?” Dory demanded in a scathing tone as soon as she opened the door.
“Yore brother said stop an’ see if ya was all right.”
“Liar.”
“I’m hungry as a bear.”
“Go eat with the hogs where you belong.” Dory attempted to close the door. His arm shot out and flung it open. Dory let out
a muffled gasp of fury. “Step inside this door and I’ll fill your belly full of buckshot!”
“I ain’t no fool. I ain’t comin’ in without no invite. Old Wiley’s got a shotgun pointed at my back. I jist want to see the
dummy.” His eyes moved past Dory and settled on Odette. “Bugger! Louis didn’t say she was pretty as a blue-wing teal.”
“Get away from this door, Sid!” Dory demanded in a strident shout.
“Air ya jealous cause she’s prettier an’ younger’n ya are? It makes no never mind to me. Yo’re still my woman.”
“You… varmint! Weasel! Filthy hog! Stinking polecat—” Dory reached for the water bucket to fling at him. When he stepped back,
she slammed the door and dropped a bar across it.
“There’ll come a time when I’ll learn ya to keep a civil tongue in yore head.” Sid’s angry voice sprang boldly through the
closed door.
Dory stood in troubled silence looking at Odette’s quizzical face. She forced herself to laugh. “He’s just… a rejected suitor.
He’s leaving.” There was a note of desperation in her voice that Odette couldn’t hear.
Odette smiled. The smiled faded as she went into a fit of coughing. The girl had had a persistent cough for days. Dory had
made a syrup of equal parts of honey, vinegar and whiskey and every so often had given her a spoonful. It was only a temporary
relief.
The next afternoon, with Jeanmarie skipping along between them, they explored the woods behind the house to get a breath of
fresh air and to look for early spring flowers. The days were getting longer, the sun warmer. Two deer at a salt lick were
startled by their approach and darted into the dense stand of trees.
“Come back! Come back!” Jeanmarie ran after them. “We won’t hurt you.”
Dory ran to catch her daughter before she went deeper into the woods. The child squealed with laughter as she was caught and
pinned to her mother’s side with an arm looped around her middle. As Dory turned to go back to Odette, she saw Milo coming
out of the woods behind the girl.
“Boo!” he said, his mouth close to Odette’s ear.
Unaware of his presence, Odette stood watching Dory and Jeanmarie as they walked toward her. The child had stopped laughing
and hid her face against her mother’s shoulder.
“She really
is
a dummy,” Milo said, and moved around to peer into Odette’s face. He laughed when the girl, realizing a man was standing
close beside her, jumped back. “Scared ya, did I?”
“Stay away from her, Milo,” Dory said sharply. “She can’t hear, but she can read lips. She’ll tell her father—”
“Sid told me she was pretty and… ripe. He was right as rain.” He chuckled and reached to touch the blond curl that lay on
Odette’s cheek. She jerked her head away from his hand. “Always did like light-haired women.” Milo grinned, showing a space
between his big square front teeth.
Milo was not as tall as his brother Louis and had the same heavy features. He wore the clothes of a lumberjack: heavy duck
pants, flannel shirt and caulked boots. He was exceedingly proud of his thick dark hair and the heavy mustache that drooped
down on each side of his mouth. Dory suspected the reason he let his hair grow to cover his ears was to taunt Louis, who was
bald except for the fringe of coarse springy hair that grew around the lower part of his head.
Odette’s fearful eyes looked up at Dory. Dory took her hand.
“Stay away from her, Milo,” Dory warned again. “She’s very shy. One word from her and Ben Waller will pull out, leaving you
and Louis high and dry.”
Ignoring the warning, Milo stood in front of them when they attempted to pass. “Don’t be in such a hurry. Does she talk?”
“Yes, she talks. I’m warning you, Milo—”
“Make her say something. I’ve never heard a dummy talk.”
“Don’t call her that… and get out of the way.” Dory pulled on Odette’s hand and they went around him.
“I’ll be in for supper,” he called as they headed for the house.
“Eat in the bunkhouse,” Dory yelled back.
“I said, I’ll be in for supper, dammit! I’ll sleep in my bed too.”
Dory whirled around. “It’ll be pretty crowded. All three of us will be sleeping in that bed.”
“It’ll not be no chore a-tall to get rid of
two
of you.” He laughed nastily as Dory sneered at him with disgust.
“Damn lecher!” Dory muttered to herself.
As soon as they were inside the house, Odette put her hand on Dory’s arm to get her attention.
“What he say, Dory?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” she replied slowly. “He’s my brother… and he likes to… tease.”
“He’s mean, like Louis.” Odette covered her mouth with her hand and coughed.
Dory made no attempt to contradict. She sighed heavily. “I’m afraid so. But he won’t bother you. I wish we could get rid of
that cough.”
“Throat sore now.”
“Sit down and I’ll fix you some hot tea.”
“I wish Papa would come.”
“So do I, honey.”
Quietly the women went about the chore of fixing supper. Even Jeanmarie was subdued. The child sat on a stool beside the woodbox
holding a doll her mother had made out of a stocking. Milo’s presence at the homestead was like a dash of cold water on their
spirits. The meal was only half ready when he flung open the door and came into the kitchen.
“Supper isn’t ready,” Dory said crossly.
“I can see that. I ain’t blind.” He hung his coat on the rack beside the door, hooked a chair out from the table with his
foot and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. A grin spread across his broad face as his eyes wandered over Odette’s
slight body.
Dory saw his lecherous gaze and read his thoughts. She made no attempt to hide her opinion of him.
“You’re disgusting,” she snapped. “You’re old enough to be her father.”
“I’m shore glad I ain’t. I’d say she’s ’bout the age you was when you got busted. Hey, pretty girl, pour me some coffee.”
With her back to him, Odette continued stirring the chopped potatoes frying in the big iron skillet. “Shit! I forget she can’t
hear. Don’t she hear anything a-tall? Hell, it don’t make no difference. I think I like it. I won’t get no back talk.” He
laughed as if he had said something terribly funny.
One brief glance at Dory’s tight-lipped mouth told Odette that she was angry at the man at the table. Had he said something
about
her?
Some sixth sense told her that he was watching her and that his thoughts were less than honorable. Odette felt heat rush
into her face and at the same time a cold chill traveled down her spine. She swallowed in an effort to ease the soreness in
her throat.
This man was of the same breed that sometimes had come to visit her mother before she had become so sick she could no longer
“entertain” them. On these occasions her mother would tell her to go to a small room off the kitchen and would lock the door.
Lying on a pallet, she would wait until her mother came for her.
Odette watched Dory for her reaction to the man. She was unlike any woman Odette had ever known. Dory romped and played like
a child with her and Jeanmarie, yet she was a grown woman, a mother. Odette had been delighted to know that Dory could make
clay pots, and Dory had promised to show her how to form them and bake them in the outside oven Mr. Callahan had built for
Dory’s mother. Although Odette missed the security of being with Ben, she had truly enjoyed being here with Dory and Jeanmarie.
Odette made a wide circle around the man in the chair when she carried the bowl of potatoes to the table. On the way back
to the stove she uttered a cry of alarm and moved quickly to evade the hand that snaked out to grab her skirt.
“I’m warning you, Milo,” Dory said angrily, placing herself between Odette and her brother. “Keep your hands off her, or I’ll
brain you with a stick of stove wood.”
“Ohhh… I’m scared.” Milo held up his hands as if to protect himself.
“You came down because of her, didn’t you?”
“I sure didn’t come to get an eyeful of you,
sister.
Louis said she was a dummy. Sid said she was pretty as a buttercup. I ain’t ever had me no dummy and it’s been a month or
more since I had me a woman that ain’t been broke into.” He laughed loud and long at the look of disgust on Dory’s face.
“You’re sorry through and through. You make me want to puke.”
“Sorry? What’s sorry about doin’ what comes natural? I have myself a hell of a time. Sid’s got his eye on you. Know that?”
“You and Sid Hanes are chips off the same rotten block.”
“How long’s it been since you had a man? Not since that puny Malone kid got hisself killed, huh?”
“Shut up!” Dory slammed a plate of fried meat on the table. “Eat and get out.”
“I ain’t going nowhere… except up to my bed.” He reached out and pinched her on the thigh.
She aimed at the side of his face with the back of her hand. He dodged the blow and laughed.