Bittersweet Creek (9 page)
Authors: Sally Kilpatrick
Romy
I
was still sitting upstairs in a daze, feeling sorry for myself, when I heard the dogs. At first I thought it was Goat Cheese's old mutts. They liked to wander over from time to time.
was still sitting upstairs in a daze, feeling sorry for myself, when I heard the dogs. At first I thought it was Goat Cheese's old mutts. They liked to wander over from time to time.
No. Those dogs are snarling.
I scrambled down the stairs, slipping once and bouncing into the wall, hard. Daddy sat back in his chair snoring as I ran for the back door and the boots. How he could sleep through it all, I didn't know.
As I ran across the side yard from the house to the pen, I could hear Maggie lowing. I hit a trot, my boots rubbing up and down my heels. When I reached the fence out of breath, two pit bulls circled her. She had her head lowered, shaking it at them to warn them off.
I froze. I couldn't get in there with those snarling beasts. Maggie had red streaks down one flank where they'd jumped at her. She lolled wild eyes at me as she bellowed for help.
As she turned to kick at the interlopers, I saw either her uterus had prolapsed more or the dogs had somehow jumped high enough to bite at it. She was trying to have her calf and the dogs could smell both her blood and her fear.
I looked around me frantically for a weapon, but all I saw was an old ax handle leaning against the adjoining shed. I grabbed it and climbed over the gate rather than taking the time to undo the chain. One dog, a brindled one, lunged for Maggie's backside, but she rallied with a solid kick that sent him whimpering. The second dog, a yellow one, barked Maggie May into a corner. I approached the dogs, forcing myself to stay calm and stare them down. “No! No! Now, git!”
They paused, and the yellow one took a step backward. Just when I thought I'd convinced him I was alpha, he lunged.
He clamped down on my left arm. Pain burned through me as the dog tried to pull me down to the ground. I whopped him on the nose.
No response.
Even though my heart raced, icy adrenaline ran through my veins. At first, I'd jerked out of instinct, but I knew the dog would tear my arm apart if I tried to pull it back. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity as the yellow dog jumped at Maggie. Fury snapped behind my eyes. We weren't going to have to bottle-feed another calf because some McElroy dog took her mother.
I raised the ax handle to hit the dog on my arm even as Maggie kicked him. In the split second the dog let go, I drew back my arm and held out the ax handle instead.
The dog chomped down on the handle, and I looked for the yellow one. The world swayed around me, then everything went eerily still.
Both dogs froze, their ears pricking up. A rifle shot rang out, and they ran through a low spot in the fence and back to the McElroy side.
That's when I heard Daddy.
“Rosemary, are you all right?”
His voice was hoarse, muffled, and desperate even. I propped the post beside the gate with shaking fingers and leaned on my good arm to clamber over the gate. As I trotted in the direction of his voice, a lesser pain on my fingers registered and I looked down to where I'd broken three nails. One of them bled from being broken so far into the quick. “Daddy?”
“I'm over here.”
He'd been in such a hurry his wheelchair had gone off the makeshift ramp over the front porch steps and capsized. He'd pulled himself to sitting position and dragged himself to the rifle that'd no doubt flown from his lap. My heart caught in my throat at the thought of all that could've gone wrong.
“Daddy, did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?”
“Baby, you're bleeding.”
Dazed by the dizzying ache in my arm, I didn't answer him for a moment. “Dog bit me. But are you okay?”
“Dammit, Curtis's damned pit bulls got loose again, didn't they?” he panted from where he was still trying to right himself.
He choked back a sob of sorts. For the sake of his pride, I had no choice but to ignore it. “Let me help you back into the chair, and we'll get you into the house. You may want to call the vet, too. Looks like Maggie's worse.”
“What about getting you to the doctor?” He grunted as I lifted him back into his chair.
“Don't you need to check on Maggie first?”
Hank's eyes narrowed. “You're a sight more important than a cow. Let's call Julianâ”
“No!” I fumbled to get my cell phone out of my pocket and awkwardly dialed Richard. He might be mad at me, and rightfully so, but he'd still take me to the hospital, right?
The procession of rings followed by his chipper voice-mail message suggested otherwise.
“I'll drive myself,” I said.
Daddy grabbed my good arm. “Hell, you can hardly dial a cell phone. I'm calling Julian, and that's that.”
Shit. That's just what I need. Why couldn't we have neighbors other than the McElroys or old man Smith, who was ninety-seven if he was a day?
Five minutes later I'd managed to help him roll into the house using my good arm. He'd called Julian and was still muttering under his breath, “Damned cow is going to cost me a fortune.” But he was looking at me with worry in his eyes.
“It's just a dog bite, Daddy,” I said. He knew I'd suffered something similar the summer I worked for Dr. Winterbourne. That was back when I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian. The next school year, a fall chemistry class changed my mind.
“Well, you know what, Rosemary? You're all that I've got. And to think what those mean-ass dogs might have doneâ”
“They didn't, though. I'll get patched up. I've done worseâremember that time I fell out of the tree over there?”
“Yeah, I remember. You shaved ten years off my life.”
Julian opened the door, concern hooding his eyes. He looked to Hank, and my father nodded. Something passed between the two men before my father looked away. I would've expected hatred or at least distrust. Instead, Daddy's nod had held more trust and approval than his halfhearted reply to Richard that he could have my hand. The two of them were in on something, and I was going to figure it out if it killed me.
Julian
I
broke at least thirty laws getting Romy to the doctor's office in Ellery. Now that she wasn't in the thick of things, her eyes were glazing over from pain.
broke at least thirty laws getting Romy to the doctor's office in Ellery. Now that she wasn't in the thick of things, her eyes were glazing over from pain.
“When did you and Daddy get so chummy?”
Of all the things I expected her to ask, that was not one of them. “What do you mean?”
“Don't play dumb with me. You helped him when he broke his leg so now you're his go-to guy for Satterfield family emergencies? Something's up.”
“Nothing's up,” I said as I rolled through a stop sign that brought me into the town limits.
“Julian, the two of you hated each other back when we were dating.”
“Well, I'm older and wiser.”
I yanked the truck into park and got out before she could ask me any more questions. Truth be told, helping Hank out the day he broke his leg actually made us even, but I wasn't about to tell Romy about the time Hank had helped me.
I placed a hand around her waist to walk her into the doctor's office. As we walked, she stumbled out of her right boot. What the hell was she doing wearing Hank's boots?
“I think you need some smaller boots there, Romy.”
“Kiss my ass, Julian.”
Better to have her cuss me than question me.
The receptionist took one look at Romy's gray face and decided to send her on back to the Ellery Clinic's tiny “emergency room.” We didn't have to wait long for Doc Malcolm, though he walked much slower than I remembered. Despite his shock of white hair and stooped posture, I felt like a kid again. All I needed was one of the lime suckers he kept in his pocket.
He turned to Romy first. “Well, well, Stinky, what have you got yourself into this time? Still falling out of trees?”
Romy blushed at the older doctor, a man who'd nursed both of us through colds, the chicken pox, strep throat, stitches, and just about every other ailment under the sun. “Dog bite.”
Doc Malcolm tsked, then acknowledged me with a slap on the shoulder. “I always told her they'd have to chase off the boys with a stick when she got older. I must've forgotten to warn her about the dogs, eh, Julian?”
I smiled, swallowing hard. I appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood
Patch Adams
âstyle, but I wanted Romy to be out of pain as soon as possible. Still, he took his time washing his hands and gathering supplies. When he unwrapped the towel from her arm, he whistled. At the sight of the jagged gashes, some spot in my chest ached sharp and fierce because I couldn't take Romy's pain for her. Instead, I'd once again caused her painâjust indirectly. She gasped at his touch, and I instinctively moved to her good side and took her hand. She crushed my fingers but wouldn't look my way.
Patch Adams
âstyle, but I wanted Romy to be out of pain as soon as possible. Still, he took his time washing his hands and gathering supplies. When he unwrapped the towel from her arm, he whistled. At the sight of the jagged gashes, some spot in my chest ached sharp and fierce because I couldn't take Romy's pain for her. Instead, I'd once again caused her painâjust indirectly. She gasped at his touch, and I instinctively moved to her good side and took her hand. She crushed my fingers but wouldn't look my way.
“Okay, Stinky. As bad as it looks, I'm more concerned about what's under the skin. We've got to clean this and make sure you don't have too much damage,” Doc Malcolm said as he shuffled back to the counter. He looked at me. “What do we know about this dog, eh? Had its shots, I hope?”
“One of my father's dogs,” I managed over the lump in my throat. “They've had all their shots.” That was no thanks to Curtis. I'd been the one to load them up and take them for their shots.
“Well, that's good. We don't want to do the rabies treatment. I think we'll get a tetanus shot ready, though,” Doc Malcolm continued as he put on his gloves then started washing the wound and feeling his way around her arm. Romy flinched the moment his fingers pressed against her forearm. By the time he felt his way to one of the gashes, she'd turned white and looked ready to pass out.
“Now, Stinky, you're making it worse when you jump like that each time I touch you. You look up at that McElroy boy instead. He isn't too bad to look at, now, is he?”
Romy
N
o, Julian wasn't bad to look at, especially not when his blue eyes harbored that kind of pain and guilt. I didn't mean to actually look up at him, but I had always been one to follow doctor's orders. To make matters worse, Julian's other hand reached toward my cheek with trembling fingers, but he drew it back as though singed.
o, Julian wasn't bad to look at, especially not when his blue eyes harbored that kind of pain and guilt. I didn't mean to actually look up at him, but I had always been one to follow doctor's orders. To make matters worse, Julian's other hand reached toward my cheek with trembling fingers, but he drew it back as though singed.
Dr. Malcolm's merciless fingers felt around the wounds. He flushed the wound with something that stung enough to bring tears to my eyes. Julian thumbed the tears away, and my traitorous body itched to lean into him, quivering with the effort it took to keep that arm still while the doctor poked and prodded. Julian stepped closer, and I leaned into him in spite of myself. I needed someone to lean into.
“All right. I've got some good news and some bad news,” Dr. Malcolm said. “The good news is that I don't
think
you've got permanent damage. The bad news is that I'm afraid to suture you up for fear of infection. Now, you'd be less likely to have scars if I do the sutures, but there's always the chance an infection would set in.”
think
you've got permanent damage. The bad news is that I'm afraid to suture you up for fear of infection. Now, you'd be less likely to have scars if I do the sutures, but there's always the chance an infection would set in.”
“What would you do?” I asked.
“I'd clean it up and hope for the best,” the doctor said.
I swallowed and nodded for him to continue, then leaned back into Julian, trying not to think of how he smelled faintly of aftershave but mainly of cars and freshly cut hay.
“There we go,” Dr. Malcolm said. “All bandaged up. Now for that shot, and I'm calling in some antibiotics, tooâjust in case.”
Julian's hand squeezed mine while I got the shot, lingering for just a second before letting go. Dr. Malcolm turned on him, looking over the rims of his glasses, his bushy eyebrows arched. “Now about those dogsâ”
Julian's lips made a thin line. “I'll handle it.”
My heart skipped double. We might not still be together, but Julian had that steely-eyed look I'd seen before, the one that said, “You'd best not mess with my girl.”
Dr. Malcolm caught that vibe because he turned to me. “And you, young lady, you are to rest and to take care of this wound per the instructions on this sheetâand they include elevation. Come see me in about three days to make sure it isn't infected. Take it easy, Stinky. That's an order.”
I nodded and slid from the table, almost coming out of my boots again. I tamped down the irrational urge to kick them against the wall.
Damned boots.
Damned boots.
Julian put his arm around my waist to guide me out. For a minute I fell back into that old habit, enjoying the feel of his protective arm. Then I came to my senses and shrugged free: The last thing I needed was for Richard to drive by and get the wrong idea.
Julian started the truck. I wanted to ask him what he was going to do with the dogs, but I was afraid I wouldn't like the answer. He eased the truck into the street, but his knuckles were white.
“You know,” I said softly, “the dogs didn't ask to be made mean.”
He drove the next two blocks in silence but killed the motor once he'd parked behind the pharmacy, then trained his baby blues on me. “I know that.”
“Maybeâmaybe they could be rehabilitated. You know, maybe someone could teach them how to act differently so they wouldn't be so dangerous.”
“Can't teach an old dog new tricks,” Julian said with a humorless smile. “They'll be rotten until the day they die.”
And we weren't talking about dogs anymore. Before I could say anything he got out of the truck and went around to my side to help me out.
“Thanks for taking me to the doctor.”
“Least I could do,” he said with a heavy sigh as he opened the pharmacy door for me.
I handed Mr. Giles my prescription and stepped back out of everyone's hearing range. “I don't suppose I could ask another favor of you, huh?”
“Shoot.”
“I, uh, kinda need to get an annulment instead of a divorce. Richard tore up the papers.”
Miss Georgette looked up from the Metamucil at the end of aisle five and frowned at Julian when he swore under his breath. “So we're still married. And he knows.”
“Yes and yes.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do, Romy.”
“At this point? I don't know yet.”
“Well, tell me when you figure it out.” He sat down at the little desk that tested blood pressure but popped back up and guided me to the seat.
He looked ahead with a disgusted resignation I'd seen once before. When we were both freshmen, the football coach pulled me out of class one day. Apparently, he'd been informed I was the best English student in the school. So who better to help one of his star football players stay eligible? In his defense, he was new in town and didn't know about the Satterfields and the McElroys. He couldn't have known that Julian and I had drifted apart when my mom got sick.
I walked to the library, hall pass clutched in one hand. What would he say?
There he sat at one of the old wooden tables, leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. No longer a boy, he didn't want to be there any more than I did. I pulled out the chair beside him and waited. Finally, he turned to look at me, and his eyes grew wide. Then he did something very curious: He blushed.
“
You're
going to be my tutor?”
You're
going to be my tutor?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Coach Davis said we'd take today as a trial period. If it works out, we'll study together in the afternoons.” And the boosters were going to pay me for my trouble, but something told me Julian didn't need to know that.
Julian looked away. “You're not going to be able to help me any more than the other two.”
My Satterfield stubbornness reared its ugly head.
Wanna bet?
“What makes you say that?”
Wanna bet?
“What makes you say that?”
“I can't read. No way I'm going to pass English if I can't read.”
He can't read?
The idea was so foreign to me that I couldn't find anything to say.
The idea was so foreign to me that I couldn't find anything to say.
“See? Told you this wasn't going to work out,” he said as he stood. “Now you know. Guess you were right to stop hanging out with the likes of me.”
I put my hand on his arm, blushing to my very core. “I only stoppedâ” I had started to say playing, but we had been in junior high, too old for playing, when my mom was diagnosed. “I only stopped hanging out with you because Mom got sick. Then I didn't really want to hang out with anyone for a while.”
His blue eyes softened, but he gently took his arm away. “Yeah, well, that don't change the fact that I can't read.”
“Then I'll read to you.”
And read to him I did. I even talked him into reading to me. That's when I figured out Julian had some kind of dyslexia, but everyone had assumed he was dumb or lazy. He'd taught himself to read some of the basics, but the old English of Shakespeare and the odd wording of poems were particularly challenging.
Guess that's why his poem about why I should go out with him persuaded me to give him a chance. Julian being Julian, he hadn't settled for a simple rhyme. No, we'd studied haikus and how difficult they were, so I found a note in my locker that said:
Black hair and green eyes
Entice me. Your smile haunts me.
Movies next Friday?
Entice me. Your smile haunts me.
Movies next Friday?
As haikus went, it wasn't what the Japanese had in mind. That said, any time I thought of Julian counting out syllables on his fingers and no doubt looking through the dictionary for the word
entice,
I couldn't help but grin.
entice,
I couldn't help but grin.
“What are you smiling about?”
His question brought me back to the present. “Nothing. Just something I remembered.”
His blue eyes cut through me. Now a man, he was far removed from the cocky boy who'd two years later stuffed an entirely different kind of poem between the slats of my locker:
Roses are red, violets are blue
I love your ass, and the rest of you, too!
I love your ass, and the rest of you, too!
I'd slapped him on the arm for that one, but we'd both known I didn't mean it, not when I was just as crazy about him as he seemed to be about me.
Oh, Julian. What have the last ten years done to you?
“Miss Romy, you're ready.” Mr. Giles motioned for me to come around to the lower spot at the counter and rattled off a ton of instructions I didn't have the wherewithal to comprehend.
As soon as I paid, Julian put a hand under my elbow and ushered me out of the pharmacy. “In a hurry, aren't we?”
“Yep.”
That was the last word he said the entire trip, but I could tell by the set of his jaw he'd made up his mind about what he was going to do to those dogs.
From Rosemary Satterfield's
History of the Satterfield-McElroy Feud
History of the Satterfield-McElroy Feud
Back in those days it wasn't as shocking for first cousins to wed. Young Wisteria Satterfield's love for her cousin Christopher Columbus “Lum” MacElroy was, however, unrequited. Your great-aunt Lucille told me stories about visiting her aunt Wisteria at the mental institute. She also told me that Wisteria was as sane as you or meâonly about fifty times meaner.
But according to Benjamin III, Aunt Lucille's daddy, Wisteria had never been quite right in the head. She took a shine to Lum at a family picnic one Fourth of July and could never seem to understand why he didn't return her feelings. When he married another girl in the neighborhood, she couldn't stand it. One evening, when she knew Lum had gone hunting with one of her brothers, she sneaked up to the McElroy home place and set it on fire. Since she was caught, it was either jail or the insane asylum. To the asylum she went.
Eunice, Lum's wife, managed to make it out alive, but she lost the baby she was carrying and never quite recovered, eventually dying in 1911. That was the same year Benjamin III lost his wife and infant son in an eerily similar fire. At least six McElroys swore Lum was with them the entire time.
In an ironic twist of fate, Eunice McElroy is buried catty-cornered from Wisteria in the Ellery City Cemetery, even though Wisteria spent the rest of her life at Western State in Bolivar. Your father went with your granddaddy Satterfield to visit Aunt Wisteria once when he was little. He told me it was a crowded, nasty place. Your aunt Wisteria swore she'd had babies that had been stolen. At the time, your granddaddy thought she'd had too many shock treatments, but when all that stuff about Georgia Tann's black market babies came out, he had to wonder. There could be a Satterfield baby or two out thereâmaybe even one of Joan Crawford's kids.
Skirmishes continued throughout the years, but neither family wanted to have anything to do with arsonâat least not for another fifty years.
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