Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (18 page)

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Karen’s laugh rang out. She was the sunniest person! In all the years Henry Ann had known her, she had seldom seen her without a smile on her face. Karen turned now to Aunt Dozie and squeezed her arm.
“I’ve been looking forward to your picnic, Aunt Dozie. Did you bring enough for me?”
“I did dat, chile. I shore ’nuff did. I made dem devilish eggs yo like and dat tater salad. Where’s yo daddy at?”
“He was invited to eat with the Andersons. I saw you driving in. Where’s Johnny?”
“He and Grant went out to look at the plane.”
“We heard you had a hired hand.” Mrs. Austin jumped into the conversation quickly. “How’s he workin’ out? My, but most are a lazy bunch of good-for-nothings. They’ll eat you out of house and home. Did he come recommended?”
Henry Ann ignored the question. “Grant’s more like a friend than a hired hand.” She turned and lifted Jay out of the car. “We’ll walk out to the plane, Aunt Dozie. See you later, Mrs. Austin.”
With Jay walking between them, each holding a hand, Karen and Henry Ann crossed the field and approached the plane that had been brought out for the crowd to inspect. Another plane sat at the end of the field with a crew of men working on it.
“That woman gets my hackles up,” Henry Ann admitted.
“I could tell.” Karen’s tinkling laugh rang out.
“Was it that obvious?”
“Only to me and Aunty. You’d have to hit Mrs. Austin on the head with a hammer to get through to her.”
“Johnny, Johnny,” Jay yelled, when he spied Johnny and Grant. He would have run to them, but Henry Ann held tightly to his hand.
Johnny turned when he heard his name. He tipped his hat to Karen, then with a broad smile picked Jay up and set him on his shoulder.
“Howdy, cowboy.”
“Howdy, cowboy,” Jay echoed and giggled.
Johnny carried Jay up to where he could touch the tail of the plane.
“Well, isn’t that thoughtful?” Karen turned her smiling eyes on Henry Ann. “He’s changed.”
“Yes, he has. I’m proud of him.” She glanced at Grant and saw his eyes on Karen. “You don’t know Grant. Grant Gifford, Karen Wesson.”
“Hello.” Karen offered her hand. “Have we met before? Your face seems familiar.”
Grant laughed and took her hand. “That’s supposed to be my line. And no, I don’t think so. I would have remembered meeting
you
, you can be sure of that.”
“What time does the show start?” Henry Ann asked.
“In about an hour. Afterward they’ll give rides.”
“Are you going up?” Karen asked.
“No, but Johnny is.”
“Johnny?” Henry Ann said with alarm. “Oh, I don’t know—”
“All right, Mother Hen,” Grant teased. “Give the boy a little rope.”
“Have you been up in a plane?” Karen lifted her face to look at him.
“A few times. I lost a bet to Johnny, so I’m paying off with a ride.”
“What was the bet about this time?” Henry Ann watched Johnny coming back with Jay perched on his shoulder.
“I don’t think you want to know.” Grant’s eyes flicked to Henry Ann and then back to Karen.
“I’ll ask Johnny.”
“You do that.” Grant laughed, causing Karen to say, “Maybe you’d better not, Henry Ann. I think it has something to do with
man talk.
” Karen smiled up at Grant. “You seem to be the authority here on airplanes, maybe you can tell me if this is the kind of plane Amelia Earhart flew across the ocean.”
“It might be. She crossed solo just last week.”
“I heard about it on the radio.”
“I don’t know what kind of plane she flew.”
“Well, glory! Here’s a man who doesn’t know everything.”
They walked back across the field past a tent with an American flag flying from the center pole. Inside a man standing in front of a large map was speaking to a group of men who gathered around. Beside him a young man indicated specific places on the plat map with a pointer stick.
“It’s a certainty the oil boom is coming this way. Oil runs in rivers beneath the ground just as water runs in rivers on top of it. It only makes sense that from Healdton south to Wichita Falls the river of oil should run right here or very near it. Now you can get in on the ground floor, or you can let someone else drain the oil from beneath your land.”
“That’s a line of bull if I ever heard one,” Grant said, as they moved on toward the car. “I hope folks will get a lawyer to look over any contract before they sign.”
“Are you an oil man, Mr. Gifford?” Karen asked.
“No. I’m a bum.”
Karen laughed, as if he had made a joke. “The oil man is willing to pay them on the chance oil is under their land.”
“Yeah, fifty cents an acre.”
“Fifty dollars for a hundred acres is a lot of money nowadays.” Then to an older man in ragged overalls using a cane, Karen called out, “Hello, Mr. Jacobs. My, you’re getting along great! You’ll be dancing a jig next. It’s good to see you out.”
“Howdy, Miss Wesson. I be doin’ tolerable.”
“Glad to hear it.” They walked on, and Karen said, “Sorry to interrupt. He’s been awfully sick.”
“I was just going to say that these birds will not lease a hundred acres. They’d probably only lease ten acres from a landowner for five bucks. And they’ll make sure that the ten acres lie on the property line on the corner next to a couple of properties they didn’t lease. They’ll resell the leases for a big profit if a big outfit comes in. If not, they’ll drill on a couple of them if they can raise the money. If they get a piddling amount of oil, it isn’t worth it to have the land torn up.”
“You think they’re crooks?”
“Legal crooks.”
“Where did you learn so much about the oil business?”
“Newspaper.” He grinned down at her.
She removed her hat and ran her fingers through blond wavy hair—cut short—practical, hair for a woman with no time or desire to fuss. She wore almost no makeup except for a little color on her lips. She had an inquisitive mind, was pretty, and sparkled like a new penny.
A wholesome small-town girl.
How could he be sure? Women as a rule were like chameleons.
“Have you seen Mr. Dolan?” Henry Ann asked, when they reached the car and Johnny set Jay on his feet.
“Nope. Have you, Grant?”
“I’ve not seen him.”
“I invited him and Mrs. Dolan to eat with us. He wasn’t sure they were coming today.”
Aunt Dozie climbed out of the car, and Johnny carried the food basket to the quilts spread in front of the car. After the food was laid out, Dozie went back to the car.
“What are you doing here?” Henry Ann followed her to ask.
“I ain’t a gettin’ on de ground to eat,” she replied, and lifted the umbrella to make a shade. “It’d take all a yo to get me up. I sittin’ right here, and dat’s dat!”
“I’ll bring your plate.” Henry Ann reached in and kissed her dear friend on the cheek. “You’re part of my family, Aunt Dozie.”
“Dat Miz Austin ain’t carin’ ’bout dat, honey. Her mouth be goin’ like one a them whirly-winds if she see me sittin’ an’ eatin’ with white folks.”
Henry Ann took Dozie a plate filled with fried chicken, potato salad, and pickled beets. Grant filled a glass with lemonade, added a piece of chipped ice, and placed it on the car floor within Dozie’s reach.
Along the edge of the field picnic lunches were laid out, excited children ran and played, and neighbors were caught up on the latest gossip.
“Yoo-hoo, Henry Ann. Have you seen Chris-to-pher? Mr. Austin is wanting to eat,” Mrs. Austin called.
“I haven’t seen him,” Henry Ann replied and tied a cloth around Jay’s neck to keep his new coveralls clean.
“I saw him,” Karen murmured. “He was heading for the other end of the field where Opal Hastings and her grandpa were sitting beside their wagon.”
“Chris is in love with her.” Henry Ann glanced over her shoulder to be sure Mrs. Austin hadn’t approached.
“Then why doesn’t he stand up to his mother and say so?” Karen whispered. Her snapping blue eyes darted a glance at the Austins, then back to Grant, who had fastened an umbrella to the front of the car to provide shade for the ladies and Jay. “Well, you’re just about as handy as a pocket on a shirt.”
“I try to be.”
Grant was mystified by this totally unaffected girl. There was nothing flirtatious about her. It had been less than an hour since they met, yet she acted as if she had known him for years. He didn’t flatter himself that it was personal. She had been just as open and friendly in the way she had greeted people as they walked from the plane.
Henry Ann was wiping jam from Jay’s face when she saw Pete Perry with Isabel clinging to his arm coming toward them. She glanced at Johnny. He was pulling his hat brim farther down on his forehead.
“Hello, Cousin Henry Ann. Sorry we’re late.” Pete squatted down on the ground and helped himself to a piece of chicken. “Dolan and that little hot pepper of his asked us to stay with them, but I knew you’d want me to eat with you.”
“You are not invited to eat,” Henry Ann said crossly.
“’Course, we are. Here, sugar.” He speared a deviled egg with a fork and held it up to Isabel. “We’re kin, honey. You going to refuse to feed yore little sis?”
“Yes. She left my house. She’s your responsibility now.”
“And a sweet and juicy responsibility she is.” Pete lifted his bushy brows several times in a racy gesture.
Isabel giggled.
Johnny made a snorting noise.
Pete turned and hit Johnny on the back so hard that the lemonade in the glass he was holding sloshed over onto his shirt.
“Ain’t seen ya since the hogs ate my little brother, chief. Ya still on the warpath?” He laughed with his mouth full of food. “Didn’t take long for ya to knuckle under once the old wolf was gone and his cub got her claws in ya.”
Johnny bristled. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Ooh, ooh. I’m scared!” Pete stood and looked down at Jay. “Ain’t that Dolan’s kid? You ’n’ Dolan got somethin’ goin’, Cousin?”
“Watch your mouth.” Grant got slowly to his feet.
“Well, now. Who’er you?” Then to Isabel, “Is this the bum ya told me ’bout, honey?” Without waiting for an answer he spoke to Henry Ann. “Cousin, yo’re more of a woman than I thought ya was if ya can service this road bum and Dolan—”
In a lightning move, Grant hit him a solid blow on the mouth.
Pete backtracked, then regained his balance. To the surprise of all, he laughed.
“Not bad for a roady. Ya must a been feedin’ him good, Cousin.” He shook off Isabel’s hand and dabbed the cut on his lip with the back of his hand. “Anytime ya want to meet me behind the barn, road bum, I’ll give ya a chance at me.”
“Why behind the barn, big mouth? Are you afraid your reputation as a bully will suffer if folks see you eat dirt?”
“Stop this.” Henry Ann stood. “People are looking.”
“Let ’em.” Isabel, her face painted and her hair frizzed with a curling iron, clung to Pete’s arm. “Tell ’em, Pete. Tell ’em we got us a lawyer who’ll make her give me and Johnny what’s ours.”
“Count me out of any a that,” Johnny said. He was on his feet, his arms folded across his chest. “I want no part of it.”
“You think you’ll get more if you side with her? I ain’t met a Indian yet that had any backbone,” Isabel taunted.
“Ed wasn’t my daddy and he wasn’t yours. You know that.”
“Anybody with half a eye could see he wasn’t yours.
Your
daddy was a blanket-ass. Mama said he was big, dumb, and lazy—”
“And yours was a sot with jake leg from drinkin’ rotgut whiskey.”
“He had money. All yours had was a big pecker.”
“It was what
she
wanted. You’re just like
her
.”
“So’s she.” She glared at Henry Ann. “Mama admitted she liked
it. She’s
keepin’ Dolan’s kid, and if he ain’t already got in her pants, he will. Mama always said nasty nice
ladies
were like bitches in heat once a man got ’em—”
“—Hush your filthy mouth,” Johnny said.
“Leave.” Henry Ann’s heart beat rapidly, her ears rang, and her voice came out louder than she wanted. “And take her with you.”
“The lawyer will serve papers on you.” Isabel looked so smug Henry Ann wanted to slap her, but she addressed her reply to Pete.
“What will you pay a lawyer with—bootleg whiskey?”
“It’s good as gold. Come on, sugar,” he said with his arm across Isabel’s shoulder. “Let’s find us a place in the shade to watch the show. One more thing,
Cousin
, when yo’re out behind the house with Dolan, stay in the shadows. Ain’t no tellin’ who’ll be out there watchin’. Might even be Miz Dolan. Jealous wives can be . . . mighty dangerous.”

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