Dorothy Garlock (17 page)

“Jill’s got pains. I didn’t want to leave her, but I’ve got to get Doc. Can you take Julie over?”

Julie crowded in front of Evan. “When did they start?” “She’s had a backache all day. The pains didn’t start until she went to bed. I’ve got to get Doc,” he said again and turned away.

“Thad,” Evan called. “You take Julie and go back home. I’ll go get Doc.”

“Thanks. She’s hurtin’ and she’s scared.”

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes, Thad. I’ll get dressed and tell Joy we’re going,” Julie said on her way up the stairs.

Thad was sitting in the car when Julie and Evan came out and closed the door. He started it moving as soon as Julie was in the car.

“Don’t drive like a wild man with my wife in the car,” Evan cautioned.

“Just go get Doc, Evan. Tell him to hurry,” Thad yelled and drove out of the yard.

Doc was sitting on his porch and Joe was perched on the porch rail when Jack arrived.

“Well, do we call you Marshal Jones?” Doc asked.

“Not yet.” Jack grinned. “Damn, I hate waiting. I wish they’d just say yes or no.”

“With a half dozen fingers in the pie, it’ll take some time.” “Corbin heard what the other men had to say and thinks I’ve got a good chance. Two of them are from out of town, and both have done police work. But Corbin’s promise to train me carries a lot of weight.”

“Did they say when they would make the decision?” Joe asked. He knew how much this job meant to his brother and dreaded to see the letdown if he didn’t get it.

“Corbin said they would have another meeting in the morning. Frank Adler has to sleep on every decision he makes. He was on the council when they hired Corbin. Corbin had been a military policeman during the war, so he didn’t go into the job stone-cold like I’ll be doing.”

“Don’t shortchange Frank,” Doc said. “He’s probably got more brains than the rest of the council put together. He’s impressed with a man who is competent and trustworthy. Experience is important, but it won’t be his only consideration.”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Joe asked.

Doc evaded the question by saying, “Frank’s an old friend.”

“If I don’t get the job, I’m thinking that I might join the army or the navy. I sure as heck don’t want to go to California and pick peaches.”

“Ruby was in town for a while tonight.” Joe saw his brother go still when he mentioned the girl he had assumed to be his until just a few weeks ago.

“Doesn’t she teach country school?” Doc asked.

It was Joe who answered. “Yeah. First grade through sixth. She stays with a farm family near the school. She said she was in town for supplies.”

Jack moved toward the porch steps. “I’m goin’ home. You goin’?”

“Guess I’ll have to unless I want to walk. You’ve got the keys.”

“Come on, then. Papa wants to pick corn to dry for seed tomorrow.”

They were leaving the porch when Evan’s car came around the corner and stopped in front of the house. The lights went off and Evan got out.

“Evan. What’s up?” Joe called

“I came for Doc,” he said as he went up the steps to the porch. “Thad says Jill’s having pains. He took Julie back to the house. He’s as nervous as a dog passing peach pits. If he wrecks the car with my wife in it, he’ll be passing a mouth full of teeth.”

Doc stood up. “Did he say what kind of pains and how often they came?”

“He said she’d had a backache all day and tonight pains. He was so shook up he didn’t know if he was coming or going.”

“I’ll get my bag and go out.”

“I’ll go with Doc. I’ve got to keep an eye on Thad. He might do something stupid . . . like get into a pissin’ contest with a skunk,” Joe said with a cocky grin.

“I’ll go home and wake up Pa and Eudora,” Jack said. “She might want to go over. They’ll need someone to stay with Jacob.”

Two pairs of interested eyes followed the three cars out of town. Sammy and his friend Tator Williams stood along the board fence surrounding the lumberyard.

“Wonder where they’re goin’?”

Tator was a small-caliber hoodlum who had known Sammy since he was a three-year-old playing on the floor of a bar, waiting for his mother to remember he was there and take him home. As a ten-year-old, Tator had known, even then, that it wasn’t right for the child to be there.

The kid had survived. He had guts. And now at sixteen he was as tough as he had to be to get along. His ma was a no-good slut, and his pa cared no more for him than a fart in the wind. Hell, even Tator had screwed Marla Davidson a time or two, and she was almost old enough to be his mother.

“That was Evan Johnson that went to Doc’s house,” Sammy said. “I’ll not forget that car in a hurry. First chance I get I’ll poke my knife in his tires.”

“I thought it was Joe Jones you was mad at.”

“I am. I’ll get even. I don’t know how yet but I will.”

“I know how you can make him pay.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s got a bull out at his place that he’s mighty proud of.” “Yeah?” Sammy said again.

“Yeah,” Tator said and laughed. “The bull wouldn’t be much good without a pecker, would it?”

“I’d rather it be
his
pecker I cut,” Sammy growled. “I’ll get even with him for the way he treated me in front of Joy.”

“You got the hots for that little skirt, don’t you?”

“That’s no business of yours.”

“You been in her pants yet?”

“No.”

“What’s holdin’ ya up, boy? I told ya to go right for the good stuff. Don’t give ’em a chance to say no. If ya can get your fingers in there, your tally-whacker is sure to follow. She looks the type to spread her legs at the drop of a hat.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Sammy blurted angrily. “She’s a nice girl. She can’t help it if her brother’s meaner than a dog shittin’ tacks.”

“Ha! If she’s such a nice girl, what’s she doin’ hangin’ around with a slimy little piece of horse hockey like you?” Tator slapped Sammy playfully on the back so hard that he staggered. “Boy, has that little blond piece of ass got you by the balls?”

“She’s not that kind of girl.”

“She
has
got you by the balls.” Tator hooted with laughter. “I know how to cure that. We’ll make a trip down to see that white nigger gal that lives on the south river road. I’ve not been there for a while. A bunch of us used to go down and pound on the door just for the hell of it.”

“Why do you call her a white nigger?”

“ ’Cause she don’t look like a nigger.”

“Then how do you know she is?”

“Everybody know that her ma was colored and her pa was white. They say that if she likes you, she’ll give you a potion that’ll keep you hard all night long and randy as a buckin’ bronco.”

“Who said that?”

“Some fellers who’ve been there. Only trouble is gettin’ by the big colored bastard that guards her. If enough of us come onto that nigger, we could put him out of commission long enough to get to the whore.”

“Count me out.”

“Jesus. What’s the matter with you? You goin’ soft or somethin’?”

“I want no part of rapin’ a woman, colored or white.”

“Ya stupid kid. Ya can’t rape a whore. Ya wouldn’t have to do any of the rapin’. I’d take care of that. Ya can go along and watch, or are ya too sissy to even watch?”

Sammy started walking down the road toward the river.

Tator lumbered alongside of him.

“Don’t call me sissy again, Tator, or this knife in my pocket might find
your
tally-whacker some dark night.”

“Hell and damnation!” Tator swore and muttered under his breath. “You’ve changed, and I don’t like it.”

Chapter 13

D
URING BREAKFAST
A
PRIL HAD TO ENDURE
overfriendly overtures from Fred. He had come, smelling strongly of after-shave, to the dining room shortly after she had sat down at the table. His lips were strangely red for a man’s; and they had smiled continually, giving her the creepy feeling that Fred knew something she didn’t know.

After eating only a buttered biscuit smeared with blackberry jam, April had excused herself to go back upstairs to finish getting ready for work, hoping Fred would leave the house before she went back downstairs. But he had been waiting on the porch to walk with her.

There were times when she didn’t let Fred’s attentions bother her; but this morning she was edgy, and it took considerable willpower not to be rude. She was extremely glad to be rid of him when he tipped his hat and turned to go to the hardware store.

Sparky, from the diner, was in the surgery when she reached it. Doc was closing a cut on his thumb with stitches.

“Good morning,” April said cheerfully. She always felt comfortable in these surroundings doing the work she loved. She peered over Sparky’s shoulder. “Doc’s putting in some pretty fancy stitches.”

“It’s just a little cut, but the woman got all excited and made me come have Doc look at it.” There was an apologetic tone in Sparky’s voice.

“Smart woman. You could get blood poisoning with a cut like that.”

April was pinning her starched cap to her hair when Sparky left. Doc came into the reception room and sank down in a chair.

“You look beat. You’ve not been to bed, have you?”

“Jill Taylor gave birth to a boy last night. It was a long, hard labor. I just got back an hour ago.”

“Mother and baby all right?”

“Yeah, but Thad’s a nervous wreck. He swears that he’ll never get her pregnant again.”

April laughed. “I’ve heard that before.”

“Joe was threatening to kill him if he said ‘never again’ one more time, which didn’t help matters at all. I finally told Evan to take both of them out and put them to work chopping wood or digging a ditch.”

“Sounds to me like you had an exciting night. Why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll come get you if anything comes in that I can’t handle.”

“I’ll do that after I go to the post office.”

“I’ll go to the post office—”

“No but thanks. I need to move around.”

Doc left the office before April could say more. If he had a letter from Canada, she would be sure to be curious about it. Not that the nosy postmaster wouldn’t spread it all over town that the doctor had a letter from out of the country. He hated to keep his nurse in the dark about his intentions, but he wasn’t ready to tell her that he had his feelers out to find another position.

“Mornin’, Doc. I’m a little late with the mail this mornin’.” The postmaster was running the American flag up the pole in front of the small white building that had served as a post office since the town was founded back in 1910.

“Better late than never,” Doc replied and went into the building. He was followed closely by the eagle-eyed postmaster.

There were several letters in Doc’s box. He looked at them hurriedly and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Ya got one there from up in Canada someplace—” “Yeah, it’s from a fellow I met in medical school. We keep in touch.”

“Is he a doctor up there?”

“Yeah. Guess I’d better get back to the office.”

“Doc, have ya got time to look at this sore on my eye?” Doc gritted his teeth and turned back to the man. He pulled down the lower lid and peered at the small red lump in the corner of his eye.

“Looks to me like you got a sty. Not much you can do for it until it comes to a head. If you want to hurry it along, put hot, wet cloths on it. When a little yellow spot appears, squeeze it gently and get the pus out. Should be all right then.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“You’re welcome.” Doc hurried out the door like he had something really important to do. It seemed to take forever to get to the privacy of his own house. As soon as he was inside, he threw his hat in a chair and slipped his finger beneath the flap of the envelope with the Canadian postmark.

He hastily read the letter and swore. The position had been filled, but there was another position open in a town near Vancouver. The clinic administrator had been kind enough to furnish the name and address where he could apply.

Doc put the letter back in the envelope and took it to his bedroom. He threw it on the bureau and sank down on the bed, resting his arm over his eyes to shut out the daylight. His body was bone-tired, but his mind was even more so.

Caroline, Caroline, my love—

Damn, damn, dammit! He would rather take her to an English-speaking country, but he might have to take her to Mexico. One thing was sure, he would find a place where they could be married before their baby was born, or he would die trying.

He moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He wished that he could live here in this town with his love. He had friends here, and he was fairly certain that the Jones family would accept Caroline. But as for the rest of the town, it was impossible to even think about marrying her here, even if he could find a preacher who would perform the ceremony. He would not only lose his license to practice medicine, he would be arrested and put in jail for marrying a woman with even a speck of colored blood.

Doc lay back down, closed his eyes and daydreamed of holding Caroline in his arms. The last thing he had ever thought of doing was to fall in love with her. It had crept up on him, and before he knew it, she occupied every corner of his heart. He loved her desperately. Now she was pregnant with his child. He couldn’t help but be glad, yet deep down he knew that he should have prevented it.

It would take three or four weeks for a letter to get to Vancouver and back. That’s all the time he could allow before considering going to Mexico. He went to his bureau, took out paper, pen and a bottle of ink. With the letter from Canada in hand he settled down at the kitchen table to write to the address in Vancouver. When he finished, he slapped his hat on his head and headed back to the post office.

It was a relatively quiet day in the surgery. Miss Fowler, one of the single ladies who had her sights set on Doc, came in with a jar of pickled peaches. A small red bow had been pasted atop the jar. She asked if Dr. Forbes was in. April felt pity for a woman who so blatantly chased after a man.

“He had a long night out at the Taylor place delivering a baby. He’s taking a nap. We can’t afford to have the doctor worn-out in case we have an emergency.”