Sweet Annie (12 page)

Annie
blinked at her aunt's approving words, not surprised because she knew her
character, but moved by her understanding.

Her
uncle took his leave and Luke stood. "Thank you, Mrs. Renlow. Thanks for
everything."

"You're welcome here
any time."

“Good night, Charmaine,''
he said tentatively.

Charmaine mumbled
something.

"Annie," Luke
said to her.

She
wished they had a few minutes to talk privately, but right now she didn't know
what she'd have said. "Good night."

He
looked as though he wanted to say more, but he exited through the kitchen door.

Vera
left the room and her footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Annie
would have liked to hug this new information to her heart and enjoy the amazing
fact that Luke was interested in her, but, concerned for her cousin's feelings,
she reached for Charmaine's arm.

"Oh,
Annie, you're positively the luckiest girl in all of Colorado!" her cousin
said breathlessly.

Annie
blinked back tears in agreement.

"Of
course, it was you all along," she said, her tone self-deprecating.
"Why, you're bright and beautiful and poised, far more sophisticated than
me."

"All
those things have nothing to do with it," Annie disagreed. "You are
all those and more. It's just that Luke and I have this...this
history."

"Yes.
And it's so romantic. Oh, Annie, he's loved you since you were a girl!"

She
didn't know if he loved her, exactly, but he had always been kind and shown
respect. He treated her as an equal, as very few people in her life ever had.
As Charmaine always had. "I only hoped," she told her. "I didn't
know. I thought maybe it was you. You deserve someone wonderful, too."

"Well,
I'm disappointed," Charmaine said. "No use denying it. But I'm
thrilled for you! Good Lord, what will your mother say?" She blinked.
"What will Burdell do?"

Annie
could only imagine the answers to those questions. She shook her head. She was
so grateful for Charmaine's loving acceptance, she threw her arms around her,
rather awkwardly because she was in her chair and Charmaine was seated, too,
and hugged her soundly. All the emotions of the past days and weeks built up
and exploded in a burst of tears.

"Annie!
There's an honorable sheriff now, he won't let Burdell do anything bad to
Luke."

That
was true. People couldn't just go around beating up one another without the
law stepping in. But what if Burdy hurt Luke and went to jail? He had a family.
Her worry for Luke hadn't been the only cause of this emotional torrent. The
reality of Luke's intent, her aunt and uncle's acceptance, Charmaine's selfless
joy for her, years and years of inadequacy and wishful thinking...all those
poignant feelings, plus more, confused her heart and her head. "I—I know.
It's more than th-that. It's everything."

Charmaine
slid from her chair to kneel before Annie and hug her, rubbing her back
comfortingly. "I haven't heard you cry like this since Uncle Eldon made
you give that puppy back to the Deets boy. You'd think you'd lost something,
rather than gained a handsome, attentive admirer."

Annie
pulled away and swiped at her cheeks. "I know, I'm ungrateful, aren't
I?"

"No, you're just sensitive."

"You're
so good to me." Annie squeezed Charmaine's hand.

"Well,
remember that," Charmaine said, sitting back on her heels. “Because the
next too-good-to-be-true man is mine."

Annie laughed. "Of
course he is."

Charmaine stood. "I'd
better get up to bed, so I can be fresh for school in the morning. You can
sleep in, you lucky duck."

"Be
glad you get to go to school and that you don't have to be bored out of your
wits by tutors. I used to sit and daydream about going to class like the
others." Annie stood and blew out the lantern hanging over the table and
pointed to the one on the kitchen wall.

Charmaine
lifted the chimney and extinguished the wick. “All right, all right, I'm
grateful. Night, Annie," she said into the darkness.

"Night."

Annie
wheeled herself into her room where her aunt had lit a lamp. Leaving her chair
in a corner, she walked to the dresser for her night-rail, picked up her
silver-backed hairbrush and sat on the edge of the bed to brush her hair.

She
paused with the bristles in the ends and stared at her reflection in the window
glass. Looking back at her couldn't be the same girl who'd only wistfully
dreamed of a normal life while spending hers in a wheelchair and watching
everyone else have fun and do the things she yearned to do. The girl looking
back at her looked like every other young woman in Copper Creek, a normal girl
doing normal things.

Annie
hugged the thoughts close, her mind reeling with images of the future.

She didn't watch her
reflection as she got to her feet; that wasn't as graceful as she wished.
Walking to the window, she drew the curtains closed. It was as if her life had
only just begun, that all that had come before was only a foreshadow to the
real thing.

Everything
would be perfect if only her parents could see Luke the same way the Renlows
did. But they didn't see her the same way the Renlows did, so that was
undoubtedly too much to dream for. She changed into her nightclothes.

A
black cloud hung over her happiness. She was too cowardly to even say his name
to her parents yet. Things could stay like this for the time being. The
situation wasn't perfect, but it was exciting and new and she wanted to enjoy
it a while longer. Right now she wasn't up to facing the possibilities that the
future held.

Right
now she wanted to let the fact that Luke had declared himself soak in. The
memories of his words, of all their moments together buoyed her flagging
spirit, and she turned down the lamp wick and crawled into bed.

She would take this day by
day.

"Your
brother will be here in a few minutes," Mildred Sweetwater called to
Annie.

Annie
jumped and stuffed her new dress back into the comer of her wardrobe where her
mother wouldn't find it, running her fingers over the spring-green brocade one
last time. "I'll be there in a minute!"

She closed the cabinet door with satisfaction. Aunt
Vera had been impressed with Annie's skill with a needle and thread. After
years of needlepoint practice, she'd been a natural at precise, even stitches,
and had turned out the collar and facings so that they lay smooth and flat.
They'd finished it a week ago, and she'd brought it home in her trunk.

The dress fit her perfectly
and was like nothing she'd ever owned before. She couldn't wait to wear it. But
she could wait to see her mother's reaction.

She wheeled herself into the kitchen, where Glenda
was stirring gravy on the stove. “Can I help?''

Glenda cast her a sideways
glance. “You can if you want to hear your mother's sermon on why you shouldn't
be in the kitchen."

"I've heard that one.
I'm pretty good at turning a deaf ear. I don't want her angry at you,
though."

“Now could I stop you from
going over there and slicing up that ham?"

Annie left her chair at the
end of a counter and stood to slice the aromatic glazed ham. “How thick?''

Glenda glanced over at the
slice Annie'd made. "About like that."

"Annie!" her
mother shrieked, and the knife clattered to the floor.

Glenda picked it up and rinsed it.

Mildred stood with her hand
on her hip. "You know you shouldn't be in here. It's far too hazardous."

"It is when you scare
the pea-wadden out of me while I have a knife in my hand."

"Don't be insolent,
child. And what are you doing out of your chair?''

"I was helping Glenda."

"Glenda has performed
these tasks many times without your help, she doesn't need it now. Go out on
the lawn and direct your father in setting up the croquet game."

Deciding she'd rather save
her battles for the important things to come, Annie sat and rolled out the
back door that her mother held open for her.

She wheeled down the ramp and several feet into the
yard. Her father came and pushed her closer to where he'd been poking U-shaped
wires into the ground.

"Daddy?" she asked.

He adjusted a wire and
straightened, glancing her way.

“What did you and mother
always think would become of me? I mean, did you think I would always live
here with you?"

"You're our daughter,
we'll always take care of you."

"You'll be old
someday. What did you think would become of me then?"

A pained expression crossed
his features, and she knew it was something he'd given considerable thought.
"There's Burdell and Diana. Or Charmaine."

“Burdy has his own family,
and soon enough Charmaine will, too."

“There will always be
someone who loves you and wants to take care of you."

"You know," she
risked saying, "I can take care of myself."

"Money won't be a
problem after we're gone," he added. "You could hire a nurse or a
companion."

"A
nurse?" Like she was sick? "Didn't you ever imagine I'd meet
someone... a man, I mean... and have a husband?"

Her
father stared at her as though her hair had turned to snakes. "You're not
like other girls," he said, as gently as he could. “You have to look at
your life in other perspectives."

What
other perspectives? They hadn't allowed her any outside interests or friends.
She wasn't allowed to be productive in any way. Just what in heaven's name did
they think would become of her? They treated her as though she were a porcelain
doll they could just dress and pose, a doll that simply sat on a shelf looking
pretty, with no feelings or desires or life.

Annie
closed her eyes. It had been over a week since she'd seen Luke. Glenda had
brought her one note in that time. It had been seven whole days since she'd
returned from the Renlows, where she at least felt like a whole person.

"Hi, Nannie!" a
tiny voice called.

She
opened her eyes and shaded them to see Burdell and Diana walking toward the
gate. Burdell carried Will on one shoulder. She waved and smiled.

Inside the yard, Burdell
stood Will on his feet and the little boy ran toward Annie, an adorable cherub
with huge round dark eyes and perfect tiny teeth visible through that wide
smile.

She
leaned to scoop him up and he wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her
fiercely. "How's my boy?"

"Meow!"
he said and jabbered something she assumed was about a cat they'd seen on
their walk over.

"Ooh,
a kitty, huh?"

He nodded and then pointed
to his brown leather shoes. "Shoes."

"Those
are nice shoes. Are they new?" He nodded.

"Will, come now, don't
wear out your aunt," Burdell said, coming close enough to reach for the
boy.

Annie settled him more
firmly in her lap, clamped her arms around his waist and glared at her brother.

He would have had to
wrestle Will from her, which might have hurt the child, so he appeared to
change his mind and backed away.

"Hi, Annie,"
Diana said. The open, friendly smile on her round face allowed Annie to lower
her defenses. Burdell strolled toward their father.

Annie kissed Will's cheek and loosened her grip.

“You're just in time,''
Mildred called from the edge of the porch. "Dinner is ready."

Diana pushed Annie and Will
across the lawn, up the ramp and into the house. There was never a chair on
Annie's side of the table. Her wheelchair fit neatly in its spot.

The food was all on
platters and in bowls and in minutes it was served and the family ate. Sounds
of cleanup came from the kitchen where Glenda was no doubt eager to get home to
her own family. She agreed to come in and cook for the Sweetwaters two Sundays
a month, and Annie knew it was because Mildred paid her so well and she needed
the money for her two children.