Conor's Way (21 page)

She nodded. "Just two weeks ago, he asked me
again if I'd sell. I refused, of course. Why?"

"Has he been threatening you?"

"No. Not overtly." She met Oren's somber
gaze. "The day after I refused his last offer, some of my peach
trees were girded. It killed them, of course. I found some
cigarette butts there, and I thought maybe it was the Harlan
boys."

"It could have been them. Elroy and his boys
work for Vernon."

She sighed. "It's so hard to believe."

"Why? Vernon's a greedy son of a—" He broke
off at her disapproving frown. "Sorry, Liv. He's greedy. You know
that."

"I know. But I've known Vernon all my life,
and he wasn't always like that. He was kind to me when I was a
girl, he was even sweet on me. I don't like thinking he would do
something like this."

"Olivia, he might do even worse if you keep
refusing to sell. You know how bad he wants that railroad deal, and
you're the only one who could spoil his plans."

Oren glanced around uneasily. "I think
Vernon's getting some pressure from his father-in-law to get this
land thing settled."

"What makes you think so?"

"Vernon got a telegram two and a half weeks
ago, and another one last week," he answered. Olivia instantly
understood how Oren knew about the telegrams. His son worked at
the telegraph office.

"Both telegrams were from Hiram Jamison,"
Oren went on. "That's why Vernon and his wife left for New York
unexpectedly. They weren't planning to go this year, but for some
reason, they changed their minds. They'll be gone about six weeks,
according to his wife."

She couldn't help smiling. "Oren, you hear
more gossip than Martha."

He grinned back at her. "Kate's sister is one
of the maids over at Vernon's place, you know."

It was no wonder that news around
Callersville became common knowledge within a day. It was more
amazing than the telegraph itself.

Oren's grin faded. "If Vernon's father-in-law
is getting impatient and starts putting the pressure on, Vernon
could get nasty. Maybe you ought to move into town for a
while."

Olivia shook her head. "I can't do that. I've
got peach harvest in a month. Besides, nothing is going to happen
until Vernon gets back."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Liv.
Joshua and his brothers are still here to do Vernon's dirty work."
He tugged on the brim of his hat. "Kate and I worry about you and
the girls being out at Peachtree alone."

But she and the girls weren't alone. Olivia
thought of Conor, and she thanked the Lord he had decided to stay
another month. "We'll be fine. Vernon won't do anything to hurt me
or my girls, or order Joshua to do so."

"I hope you're right," Oren answered.

"Thank you for telling me all this."

"No need. That's what neighbors are for. I'm
just glad my land isn't on Vernon's proposed route for that
railroad. Be careful, Liv."

They parted company at the church, and Olivia
looked around for her daughters, but Miranda was the only one she
found. The child was still hemmed in by the Chubb sisters. Deeming
Miranda to be fine for the moment, if not exactly happy, she left
the child there and went in search of the other two. Carrie's
absence did not surprise her, but Becky's did. She had told her
oldest daughter to watch the other two, and Becky was such an
obedient girl. Leaving her sisters was so unlike her.

She went in search of Carrie first. She had a
sneaking suspicion that she would find her daughter getting into
mischief with Jimmy and Bobby, and when she found the trio kneeling
in the dirt behind the church, around a game of marbles, her
suspicion was confirmed. She gave all three of them a
hide-blistering lecture about marbles on Sunday, and ended the
game, much to Carrie's dismay. "I was on a roll, Mama," she
protested, as Olivia dragged her away and left the boys to gather
their marbles without her. "I was winning."

"Caroline Marie, if I've told you once, I've
told you a thousand times, no marbles on Sunday. Shame on you for
being so blasphemous."

Carrie tried, she really tried, to look
penitent. She hung her head, she shuffled her feet. Olivia sighed.
"Have you seen Becky?"

"She went for a walk down by the creek,"
Carrie answered, pointing to the nearby woods, "but she said she'd
be right back."

"A walk?" Olivia repeated in surprise. It
wasn't at all like Becky to go for a walk when she'd been told to
watch her sisters. "Carrie, I want you to go find her while I fetch
Miranda and bring the wagon around."

Carrie turned and ran toward the woods in
search of Becky. Olivia retrieved poor Miranda from the clutches of
the Chubb sisters, then walked with her across the street to where
she'd left the wagon. Miranda climbed into the back, and Olivia
drove the wagon to a point just past the church, where she had a
clear view of the woods that surrounded Sugar Creek.

She and Miranda waited about five minutes
before Becky and Carrie emerged from the woods and came running for
the wagon. Carrie climbed into the back with Miranda, and Becky
stepped up onto the wagon seat beside Olivia.

"Sorry, Mama," she said breathlessly without
meeting Olivia's gaze.

"Becky, I'm surprised at you," Olivia chided
gently as she snapped the reins and the wagon started down the
road, "leaving your sisters alone like that. What on earth were you
thinking?"

"I didn't intend to be gone that long," Becky
mumbled. "And they weren't alone. There were people all
around."

"That isn't the point. I told you to keep an
eye on them."

"Well, how could she?" Carrie piped up. "She
was too busy swappin' spit with Jeremiah Miller down by the
creek."

"Carrie! You brat!" Becky wailed as Olivia
jerked hard on the reins and brought the wagon to a stop.

She looked over at her oldest daughter and
watched the girl blush to the roots of her hair. "Is that true?"
she asked.

Becky ducked her head and squirmed on the
wagon seat. Her embarrassment confirmed her sister's comment, even
before she mumbled, "It was just one."

Olivia was dismayed.

She glanced at the two girls in the back,
then over at Becky again. "We'll talk about this when we get home,"
she said tersely, and snapped the reins, sending the wagon into
motion again. The trip home was a long and silent one. Even Carrie
had nothing to say.

***

Conor noticed tension in the air the moment
Olivia and the girls walked in the house. He had finished with his
task of pounding nails into the rickety old fence, and was now
working on what Olivia called his "homework," in preparation for
his next lesson. He looked up from the slate as they came in, and
one look at Olivia's face told him something was definitely
amiss.

"Carrie," Olivia said, "you and Miranda go
out to the garden and dig up a bucket of those sweet potatoes while
Becky and I have a little talk. And cut me a few bunches of collard
greens, too." She glanced at Conor. "Mr. Conor will help you."

Conor rose and followed Carrie and Miranda
out the door, wondering what was going on. It didn't take him long
to find out. They hadn't dug more than two sweet potatoes before
Carrie gave him all the details, summing up the story with the
words, "Becky's in big trouble."

"Mama's not happy," Miranda added.

Conor could well imagine. He remembered the
first time his own mother had caught Michael in the hayloft with
Maud O'Donnell and the furor that had ensued. Michael's punishment
had been swift and severe. The willow switch, the questions, and
the recriminations,

followed by confession to Father Donovan and
endless hours on his knees doing penance. Conor remembered how
humiliating the questions had been, and how futile the punishments.
Michael hadn't stopped fondling Maud, he'd just become better at
not getting caught. Had his mother been alive when he began
enjoying that particular activity, Conor knew he would have
suffered the same fate Michael had. He also knew his mother's
punishments wouldn't have stopped him either.

"Why do people want to kiss anyway?" Carrie
asked, interrupting Conor's thoughts. "Seems like a silly thing to
do, if you ask me."

Conor grinned. "Someday, you may not think
so."

Carrie frowned at him, clearly skeptical.
"Boys are okay," she admitted grudgingly. "They like to do all the
fun things, like marbles and fishing and stuff. But I don't think
I'd want to kiss one," she added doubtfully.

Conor dug up another sweet potato, brushed
the dirt off, and added it to the pail. "So you think boys do fun
things, do you?"

She nodded. "Jimmy's daddy built him a tree
house last year, but he won't let me go up there. They said that's
boy stuff, so I'm not allowed. If I had a tree house, I'd let them
go up in it. Why won't they let me?"

Conor thought about that for a moment. "Maybe
they think you ought to be playing with your girlfriends, doing
girl things."

"You mean, like dolls?" Carrie's nose
wrinkled with distaste. "Yuk!"

"What's wrong with dolls?" Miranda asked. "I
like dolls."

"Boring," Carrie stated, dropping another
sweet potato in the pail. "I think kissing would be boring, too. I
can't understand why Becky would want to kiss Jeremiah anyway. Last
summer, she didn't even like him. She said he was skinny, and his
voice was all weird."

"Maybe she's changed her mind about him,"
Conor suggested. "Maybe she likes him now."

"Guess so. But you'd have to like a boy an
awful lot, wouldn't you? I like Bobby, but if he ever tried to kiss
me, I'd slug him."

Conor studied the wee girl on the other side
of the sweet potatoes, and he could well imagine the merry chase
she was going to put Bobby McCann through someday. He almost pitied
the poor lad.

***

While Carrie was talking with Conor about
Becky's transgressions, Olivia was trying to deal with them. She
studied her oldest daughter across the kitchen table, noting the
girl's resentful frown and closed expression, and she had the
feeling she wasn't dealing with them very well.

"This is not fair!" Becky cried. "Carrie's
always getting in trouble, and you never say anything to her."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. She sneaked up and spied on me,
then tattled to you. But you didn't say anything about that."

"I will deal with Carrie later," Olivia
answered. "But right now, we are not talking about her. We are
talking about you. I asked you to keep an eye on your sisters, and
you disobeyed me. What if something had happened? What if Miranda
had wandered off and gotten hurt?"

"Miranda didn't get hurt."

"But she could have. Anything could have
happened, and you weren't there. Becky, I count on you to help me
with the girls. I need you to be responsible."

"Why do I always have to be the responsible
one?" Becky burst out. "Why do I always have to be the good girl?
'Becky, watch the girls.' 'Becky, bring in the eggs.' 'Becky, do
this. Becky, do that!' I'm sick of it!"

Olivia stared at her daughter's flushed and
angry face, too stunned to be angry in return. Never, not once in
six years, had the girl ever raised her voice to Olivia, and she
couldn't quite take in the fact that it was happening now. "I
didn't realize you felt that way," she managed.

"Well, I don't want to be the good girl
anymore," Becky went on defiantly. "I don't want to be bossed
around and told what to do. I'm fourteen, and I'm old enough to
think for myself."

She looked into her daughter's rebellious
face, and she knew that this was something they had to discuss. But
she was completely at a loss about how to do it. "Honey, you may
think you know what you're doing, but you don't."

Becky's face hardened into even more stubborn
lines, and Olivia knew she'd said the wrong thing. She cleared her
throat and began again. "Becky, I love you, and because I do, I
worry about you. Kissing is..."

Her voice trailed off, and she looked at her
daughter with both misery and embarrassment. Lord, this was hard to
talk about. How could she explain the facts of life to an innocent
fourteen-year-old when she was just as innocent at twenty-nine? How
could she caution Becky on matters that she had only the vaguest
knowledge of herself? Her own mother hadn't been there to talk
with her about kissing and boys.

She leaned forward,
clasping her hands together on the tabletop, and made another
attempt to discuss the situation rationally. "Becky, kissing is
something a girl of your age should not be doing. It..."
Lord, give me strength
.
"It can lead to other things."

"How would you know?" Becky lashed out, as if
she could read Olivia's own private thoughts. "You never had any
beaux."

Olivia swallowed past the lump of hurt in her
throat. "That's true—"

"Just because you never had any beaux is no
reason I can't."

"I'm not saying you can't have any beaux. I'm
just saying that you're not old enough for that yet. You're only
fourteen. There's plenty of time. When you're sixteen—"

"Sixteen?" Becky railed. "That's two whole
years! What if there's another war and all the boys go off to
fight. I'll be an old maid."

She sounded so painfully dramatic, it almost
made Olivia want to smile. "Honey, there's not going to be another
war. And, believe it or not, two years is not that long."

"Two years is forever!"

"I know it can seem like it, but it
isn't."

Becky's stubborn expression did not soften,
and Olivia decided it was time to be firm. "You are not old enough
to go for walks with a boy, and certainly not unaccompanied. That
sort of thing can ruin a girl's reputation. As for Jeremiah, I
thought he was a nice, polite boy, but this incident is forcing me
to revise my opinion. I think it would be best if you didn't see
much of him from now on."