“Your boy is with the lady across the road. I’ll ask her to come stay with you until the doctor gets here—”
“No. I don’t want …her to see me—”
“Ma’am, your nose is broken. You could be bleeding inside. You’d better get tended for the boy’s sake.”
“She’s not hurt. She’s puttin’ on, like she always does.”
Corbin turned on the man. “Shut your mouth,” he snarled. “If I hear another word from you, I’ll take out this blackjack and do to you what you’ve done to her.”
Anger did to Corbin what running didn’t. He was breathing very fast. Even in his drunken condition, Otto Bloom knew he was in danger of being beaten with the blackjack. When the tall angry man grabbed his arm again, Otto scrambled to his feet and let himself be pushed out of the house, onto the porch and out into the yard.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” Corbin called from the front yard and waited for the woman and the boy to appear. “Will you stay with Mrs. Bloom until the doctor gets here? I’ll have the telephone operator send him down.”
“Doctor? I’m not payin’ no doctor,” Otto started to protest.
Only the wide frightened eyes of the boy stopped Corbin from hitting the drunk. With one hand he clamped Otto’s arm, fingers pinching so tightly the man yelled; with the other, Corbin patted the child on the head.
“Go on in and help your mama, boy. She needs to know that you’re all right and that there’s one real man in the family.”
The boy made a wide circle around his father and ran into the house. Mrs. Reynolds followed.
Corbin propelled Otto down the middle of the street. He debated about marching him down Main Street in full view of the Saturday night crowd but changed his mind and took him in the back door of the courthouse. Otto began to threaten.
“You’ll lose your job. Mr. Wood’s not going to like it.”
Corbin pushed him into a room that held only a cot and a slop jar. A dim light from the street came through a small window near the ceiling.
“You can’t leave me here,” Otto said, suddenly becoming aware of his situation.
Corbin didn’t bother to answer. He took the key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs.
“I’m … not staying here.”
Corbin went to the door without answering. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He closed it and twisted the key in the lock.
“Mr. Wood will fire you for this!” The yell reached the chief as he was walking up the stairs.
The next morning Amos Wood and Mrs. Bloom were waiting on the courthouse steps when Corbin came to check on his prisoner.
“We’re here to get Otto. Let him out,” Wood demanded without so much as a greeting.
“That’s up to Mrs. Bloom.” The pair followed Corbin down the stairs. At the door of the locked room, he turned and looked at the woman. Both her eyes were black, a strip of tape crossed her nose, her lips were puffed and her cheeks were bruised.
“Get on with it,” Wood snarled. “I’ve not got all day.”
“Look at her, goddammit!” Corbin snarled. “Don’t you care what this man did to his wife?”
“What happens between a man and his wife is no concern of mine … or yours.”
Corbin eyed him with contempt before turning to Mrs. Bloom and speaking to her gently.
“Ma’am, you’ve got a right to press charges against him for what he did to you.”
“I can’t. He was …drunk—”
“The next time he could hurt you real bad.”
“I can’t—” Came the whispered response.
“You heard her, Appleby. She’ll not press charges. She knows what side of the bread her butter’s on.”
“What’s your interest in this, Wood?”
“He works for me. I look out for the men who work for me,” Wood answered belligerently.
“How about their families? Do you look out for them, too?
“I pay a good wage. That takes care of them.”
Corbin gave him a disgusted look and turned to the woman.
“Are you sure you want me to let him out, Mrs. Bloom?”
She nodded, and Corbin knew that she would not listen to any argument. She had been beaten down until she no longer had strength to stand up for herself. And Wood, the fat toad, for some reason, owed something to Otto Bloom.
Corbin Appleby was furious as he unlocked the door.
* * *
“I didn’t want to ride in his old car anyway.” Jill reached the end of the lane, turned and marched off down the road toward town.
“I wanted to ride,” Joy whined.
“Honey, the car wouldn’t start this morning and if we waited much longer we’d be late for church,” Julie explained.
“We could’ve gone in the wagon. Jack said he’d hitch up.” Jason was sulking. He had wanted to stay and watch Joe and his father work on the car.
“It’s only a twenty-minute walk to the church. We’ll be there by the time Jack could hitch up. Besides, it’s all downhill.” Julie tilted her hat to keep the sun off her face.
“I’ll be all sweaty by the time we get there,” Jill called over her shoulder.
“We’ve had the car only one day and already you’ve all gotten lazy,” Julie teased. “If we didn’t have it you would have walked to church without a complaint.”
“I wish we didn’t have it.” Jill’s bad mood of last night had carried over to this morning. “
She’ll
ride in it more than we will.”
“Joe said that if they got it started, he’d be at the church at noon to take us home. Joy, stop kicking your toes in the dirt. You’re getting your stockings dirty.”
“Papa won’t let him drive it,” Jason said.
When they turned a bend in the road, Julie’s saw a man running up the hill toward them. What in the world? Had something bad happened?
“What’s he running for?” Jason asked the obvious question.
In his shirtsleeves and wearing lightweight shoes laced up over his ankles, the tall, lean man kept up a steady pace as he ran toward them. His elbows were bent and his arms moved in conjunction with each stride. Dark hair flopped down on his forehead.
He moved over to the far side of the road as he approached them but never broke stride. His eyes flicked quickly over the children, then settled on Julie. He smiled.
“Mornin’, ma’am.”
“Mornin’.” Julie hardly had the word out of her mouth by the time he passed. Astonished, she and the children turned to watch him. They had never seen a grown man running along the road. She wondered where he was going.
“Do you know him?” Jill asked.
“No. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
“He’s crazy. He running away from the asylum?”
“There’s not an asylum within a hundred miles. He didn’t look as if he’d run that far.”
“I wish I could run like that,” Jason said, and Julie’s heart lurched painfully for her little brother. “My teacher said that some Indian tribes could run almost as fast as a horse. Reckon he’s a Indian?”
The white frame church sat on the outskirts of town. It had been a country church at the turn of the century. Now the town of Fertile had spread out until the church was within the town limits. Julie’s grandfather had been the mason who had laid the foundation for the New Methodist Church. On the other side of town was the Lutheran church and nearer to the river, the Southern Baptist.
Julie and the children entered the church and slid along one of the pews to sit near the open windows. It was so hot! Her dress was sticking to her back. She removed Joy’s straw hat and swished it back and forth to create a little breeze. Her thoughts wandered when the preacher settled into his sermon.
She hadn’t told anyone about her date this coming Saturday night with Evan. Oh, Lord. She was glad now that she hadn’t. He might just have asked her on an impulse and wouldn’t show up. She had lain awake last night and thought about him, remembering every word he had said to her.
His face was sharply etched in her memory. His blue eyes beneath dark, level brows had seemed to see right into her mind while they were playing cards. His mouth was firm and unsmiling— most of the time. It and his eyes set the tone of him, hard and rough and capable of taking care of himself in any situation; yet she could sense the loneliness and vulnerability in him.
The idea that a man who had seen much of the world would be interested in a country girl was ridiculous. He must have met many attractive worldly women. Julie was perfectly aware of how countrified she was—
and then there was the other thing
! The more she thought about it, the more miserable she became.
“All stand for the final hymn.”
The words interrupted Julie’s thoughts. The service was drawing to an end. She took the hymn book from Joy, who was seated between her and Jill, and nudged Jason, who was almost asleep.
When the hymn ended, the Joneses filed down the aisle to the door of the church where the Reverend Meadows waited to greet them. He shook hands with each of the children before greeting Julie.
“How are you, Julie?”
“Fine. I didn’t see your wife here this morning. Is she well?”
“She stayed with Mother this morning to give Eudora a chance to come to church.”
“Give my regards to both Mrs. Meadows and your mother.”
“I’ll do that.”
Julie followed the children out into the bright sunlight, where the congregation mingled in the area in front of the church, visiting and exchanging bits of news.
“There’s Miss Meadows,” Jill exclaimed. “Hello, Miss Meadows.” The preacher’s sister had been Jill’s first Sunday school teacher, and Jill had formed an attachment to her.
“Hello, Jill.”
“I was hoping I’d see you.” Jill wrapped an arm around Eudora’s waist. “You weren’t here last Sunday.”
“Mama wasn’t well. Hello, Julie.”
“Nice to see you, Eudora.”
In her middle thirties, Eudora was not quite as tall as Julie and was a little more rounded. Her beautiful chestnut hair was coiled and piled high atop her head. She had pearly white skin and luminous brown eyes. As always, she was handsomely dressed; her skirt was a soft gray, her blouse was sparkling white, with three rows of tiny tucks and pink embroidery that disappeared into the waistband of her skirt. Everyone liked Eudora. She was pretty not only on the outside, but on the inside as well.
Julie had often wondered why such a sweet, dainty woman had never married, but she was told that a love affair that ended badly had destroyed Eudora’s interest in cultivating another relationship.
“Hzow are you, Joy?” Eudora enjoyed little children and always took time to talk to them.
“Papa got a car.”
“A car? My, that’s exciting.”
“It broke down and we had to walk.”
“Goodness’ sake!”
“We saw a man running,” Joy blurted, loving the attention the pretty woman was giving her.
Eudora looked questioningly at Julie.
“On the way to town we met a man running. He didn’t seem to be in any trouble or—anything.”
“It must have been the new police chief. Mayor Brady told my brother that Mr. Appleby runs a mile or two a couple times a week.”
“What for?” Jill asked.
“Fertile has a policeman?” This from Julie.
Eudora answered Jill first. “He runs to keep fit, and he must like it. And yes, Mayor Brady said the council had hired a policeman.”
“I guess it’s time Fertile had its own policeman. The town is growing. I remember when there wasn’t anything but woods between the church and the town.”
“Then old Mr. Johnson had better watch out,” Jill said, then switched the subject suddenly, as was her habit to do when she had things to say. “The neighbors are comin’ to play ball in our pasture this afternoon. I wish you’d come.”