The Longest Road (49 page)

Matt's face darkened. “Sounds to me like more than just friendly interest.”

“It's not,” flashed Laurie, angered. “But if it were, it wouldn't be any of your business.”

He froze. She couldn't see his face now. He was a dark, looming presence, suddenly a stranger. “That's how you feel, Laurie? We've been going out three-four times a week for a couple of months and you think what you do is none of my concern?”

“I know that it's not up to you to tell me how long I can visit a friend who's not got many other people around.”

Matt said in a flat tone, “I reckon John Morrigan's going to be there a lot.”

Laurie knew she was blushing, hoped Matt couldn't see the telltale color. “Jim works for Johnny. Of course Johnny'll come to see him as much as he can.”

She started on. Matt strode to the Cadillac, opened the door. “Hop in. I'll drop you at the hospital.”

It would be rude to refuse. Besides, her feet hurt from a day of waiting tables. Relieved that Matt was being reasonable, she leaned back against the soft cushion. “I didn't mean to sound so grouchy, Matt.”

“You're tired, baby. Look, stay with Halsell an hour, that's long enough. I'll wait, and drive you home.”

“Oh, I can't put you out like that! Anyway, I'm staying till the nurse throws me out or Jim goes to sleep.”

“I'll wait.”

He was there when she came down the steps a little after ten and got out to help her into the car. “So how's the kid?”

“His leg hurts but he can stand that since it proves he still has it. I read to him till he went to sleep.”

“Was Morrigan there?”

“He came by earlier.”

“Guess he wanted to get home to that well-built wife of his.”

“No, he had to go out to a well.”

“He doesn't
have
to do much of anything the way he's got Dub Redwine eating out of his hand.” Matt slanted her a veiled glance. “Some folks wonder how come they're so thick.”

Laurie jerked upright. “If you mean—”

Matt raised a disclaiming hand and laughed. “I never took Morrigan for that kind myself.”

A motel light winked blue and red and they passed the road-house at the northern edge of town. “Matt, what are we doing way out here?” She wasn't really alarmed—Matt had always been a gentleman—but her voice rose a little. “I want to get home!”

“We need to have a talk.”

“I'm tired. I have to go to work early in the morning.”

He grimaced. “No, baby, you don't. You don't have to go to work ever again.”

A chill shot down her spine. “Of course I do, Matt. Now please take me home. We can talk tomorrow.”

They were out where the only lights were the ones that gleamed from the oil field. Matt swung the Cadillac off the highway onto a dirt road. “Matt—”

“Don't get excited, doll baby. I just want a quiet place to have our talk.”

In spite of knowing Matt, the back of her neck prickled. Should she yank open the door and jump out? They weren't going very fast, couldn't, on this rutted track. But his legs were a lot longer than hers. He could easily run her down. Anyhow, she was being silly. Just because he wanted to talk where they wouldn't be interrupted—

He pulled off the road. The headlights shone on scrub willow and several big cottonwoods. They must be out by the creek that angled north of town. He switched off the lights, then the ignition. It was instantly so dark that his voice seemed disembodied as it came from the heavy August night.

“I was going to wait a while, sweetness, but hell, I've made up my mind and I'm sick of watching you wear yourself to a nub. You don't have to answer me tonight. You're young and you may want to talk it over with your folks.” His hands found her shoulders, even in the blackness, brought her against him. His mouth closed on hers, hard, deliberate, bruising.

This was like no other kiss Laurie had experienced, the fleeting brush of Johnny's lips on her cheek, the smooth, clumsy, questioning or ardent ones claimed on the way home from a date, usually outside her door, or even those recent lingering good-nights of Matt Sherrod's.

He had never hurt her. He did now, holding her so tight against him that she felt crushed, unable to breathe. She couldn't escape his kiss but when she pushed at his chest, his lips gentled, moved warmly, coaxingly on hers, and though he still held her, his arms relaxed till they didn't feel like constricting steel bands.

Lifting his head just a little, he laughed shakily. “Good Lord, baby, you take my breath away! I thought no woman could do that anymore!” His fingers traced from temple to chin, paused on her throat. Laurie felt the pulse surge, beat weightedly, and though he was being nice, she felt as if a great cat rested its sheathed claws across her jugular.

“Matt—”

He kissed her lightly. Even in the dark she knew he was smiling. “I want to marry you, sweetness. I want to take care of you.”

“Oh, Matt, no!” The cry was wrung from her in a passion of shock and regret. In her need to ease the pain of realizing that Johnny could never be hers, it hadn't occurred to her to scruple about whether she might hurt the men she dated, cause any of them to suffer as she did. Least of all had she expected Matt Sherrod to really care about her. She welcomed the bite of his fingers, a punishment she deserved.

“I—I'm sorry, Matt.” What could she say to spare his pride? “You need a gorgeous lady who'll know how to do you proud, someone a whole lot smarter and nicer than I am.”

His silence frightened her more than his first roughness. She tried to move away. His grip tautened. “If this is such a big surprise to you, Laurie, I can see you need time to think it over.” His tone was barely louder than a whisper. “We could be engaged—six months, maybe a year. And if—well, if you're nervous about being with a man that way, I'll bet I can make even the first time good for you.”

Confidence entered his voice. His arms went back around her. What was that Johnny had said? Matt preferred virgins? Johnny wouldn't lie. That braced Laurie. She hadn't ever hinted that she loved Matt, hadn't encouraged him beyond agreeing to go out with him. That had been a mistake but there was no use making it worse.

“I'm sorry, Matt. I can't marry you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I don't love you.”

He sucked in his breath. “You could learn. Listen, baby—”

“I'm not a baby!” Anger warmed Laurie. She twisted from his hands. “I love somebody else. I'm sorry that I've hurt you, really sorry, but now I want you to take me home.”

He didn't respond for a moment. “And not see you anymore?” His manner was so reasonable that relief washed through her. It was embarrassing, she
was
sorry, but after all, he was a tall, handsome driller who made good money. It wouldn't take him long to find consolation.

“It doesn't make sense to go on dating, Matt.”

Again, he was silent. “Matt?”

He stirred as if rousing from a dream. “Since this is our last night, do me a favor. Come sit by the creek a while.”

She wanted desperately to go home but since he was being decent, granting his wish seemed a small thing. He got his jacket out of the backseat. Their feet ground the thin crust of sand, sank ankle-deep. He didn't steady her, didn't touch her, till he tossed his jacket down.

He brought her against him, forcing her so close that she couldn't bring up her knee or free her arms and hands. He sought her mouth, brutally. His teeth cut her lips. With all her strength, she tried to wrench free, stamped as hard as she could on top of his instep. He swore and brought her down, pinioning her thighs and legs with one of his while he dragged her wrists above her head with one hand and opened her blouse with the other, shoved up her bra and sucked a nipple while he pulled up her skirt, drove his fingers over her belly and between her legs. Her writhing was useless, only made him laugh.

“This is what happens to a teaser, baby. I'm going to have that sweet little juicy cherry of yours. The more you fight, the more it's goin' to hurt.”

Panicked blackness shrouded Laurie's mind. She heard her own voice crying, “Daddy! Daddy!” What use in shouting for him when he was dead? But she called him anyway from the depths of terror. “Daddy! Help me!”

The fingers probing at her body withered, stopped, slowly withdrew. She could move her hands, her lower body was no longer trapped under Matt's. He sat up, breathing jerkily.

Dazed, terrified of precipitating another attack, Laurie tried to sit up without making a sound, buried her face against her knees and fought sobs that threatened to engulf her. She somehow knew that would infuriate him.

He got to his feet. “Let's go, little girl.”

He didn't speak all the way home. There he parked, waiting for her to get out. Laurie opened the door and poised one foot on the drive before she asked what she had to know.

“Matt—why did you quit?”

He gave a raspy laugh. “I know your daddy's gone. You told me how he died. But when you yelled, I swear to God that someone—something—grabbed me.” He shook his head, shot her a hard glance. “You were in luck, baby, but take it from me, you may not be next time. If you're so set on John Morrigan that you can't give other guys a chance, you better not go out with them.”

“I—I'm sorry.”

“You better be glad.” He switched on the ignition. “Run along and cuddle with your teddy bear till you grow up.”

The day Jim came home from the hospital to stay with the Kirkendall-Field family till he was better, she heard that Matt Sherrod had brought in the well he was drilling, paid off his crew, and left town.

26

Early Sunday morning, December 7, 1941, wave after wave of torpedo bombers, dive bombers, and Zero fighters attacked the immense quays of Battleship Row at Pearl Harbor. Torpedoes and bombs shredded the battleship
Arizona
and killed 1,103 sailors out of the crew of 1,400. In the less than two hours before the Japanese aircraft returned to their carriers, 2,397 Americans were killed and over 1,000 wounded.

“Our guys didn't have a chance!” Johnny had stopped to see Jim shortly after the news came on the radio. He shook his head in angry bewilderment. “It was seven fifty-eight when Admiral Bellinger broadcast the warning. Two minutes later, two battleships were sinking and hundreds of our boys were dead.”

“Anyhow, twenty-nine of them damn planes didn't make it back,” Way said with bitter satisfaction. “That chaplain on the
New Orleans
helped the other ammunition handlers feed the guns that fired back at them bombers and Zeros. Every time one got hit, he hollered, ‘Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!'”

“I'm glad you're just about ready to drive the truck and mix the nitro again,” Johnny told Jim. “As soon as that recruiting office opens in the morning, I'm signing up.”

Marilys said what Laurie didn't venture. “It'll take lots of oil to fight a war. You might do more good in the oil field.”

“That's what Crystal says but there's no way I'll stay out of this.”

“I'll have to.” Jimmy directed a glare of hatred at his crutches. “When I throw these away, I'll still limp too bad to get in even the merchant marine.”

“You'll take care of things here,” said Johnny.

“I'm nineteen! If it wasn't for this darned leg, I'd be One-A.”

“One of us needs to run the partnership, Jim.”

“What partnership?”

Johnny grinned. “The one we're settin' up tomorrow to drill some shallow wells on those old farms I've bought up. The country's going to need all the oil we can find. I'm counting on you, Jim.”

Joy lit the younger man's face, then dulled. “You don't need me. Mr. Redwine's your partner.”

“Not on this deal. It's not the kind of thing he gets excited about. But I do have to see him soon as he gets back from Amarillo.”

“I hope the war lasts long enough for me to go!” Buddy's fifteen-year-old voice mounted and cracked. “I'll join the air corps and shoot down a bunch of those Zeros!”

“You won't get into pilot training if you don't finish high school,” Laurie warned.

“Then maybe I won't be a pilot. I think if your folks sign for you, you can get in the service when you're seventeen.”

“
I
won't sign for you!”

Buddy scrunched his nose at her and turned to Way. Redwine had dropped his rights to custody so, strictly speaking, Buddy didn't have a legal guardian, though Way or Marilys put their name on his report cards.

“You'll sign for me, won't you, Way?”

“Not unless your sis goes along with it, son.”

Buddy groaned. “I'll sure be glad when she's not the boss of me anymore!”

“So will I!” shot back Laurie. Too upset about Johnny to try to outglare her brother, she gave him a brief scowl and whirled on Morrigan.

“What does Crystal say about your volunteering?” she demanded.

For a split instant, Johnny's eyes went bleak before he shrugged and grinned. “Guess I'll find out when she gets back from Amarillo. Dub can't seem to make a deal without her.”

Critical occupation or no, Laurie would have felt the same way had she been a man. All those young sailors trapped on torpedoed ships, all those dead marines and soldiers—

Let us win, God. Let us win and help England and the Jews and Russians and all those other people Hitler's killing!

Next day, Monday, December 8, it took Congress only six-and-one-half minutes to declare war on Japan. Laurie listened to President Roosevelt's radio address with a heavy heart and the sense of doom she used to feel in her nightmares of the end of the world.

This could be the end. It wasn't just a few countries fighting halfway across the world, but involved all the major powers. American men didn't wait to be drafted but swamped recruiting offices. Laurie was waiting on Johnny's table that noon when he told W. S. Redwine and Crystal that he had volunteered for the marines and had passed up a chance to go to officer candidate school in order to get into combat faster. He'd report next week to Parris Island in South Carolina.