Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (26 page)
Read Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] Online
Authors: With Hope
The man stopped several yards back from the porch and removed his hat. He was wearing dark trousers, a white shirt, and a tie. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his shirt had wet circles under his arms. His resemblance to Tom Dolan sent shock waves through Henry Ann.
“Miss Henry?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Hod Dolan. I’m a brother to Tom—”
“Yes, I can see that.” Her shoulders relaxed with relief.
"He told me that his little boy was here and that you’d not mind if I stopped by to see him.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Come in. Ask your friend to come in. I know that it’s hot in that car. I just came from town myself.”
“I sees clear as day dat dis is family of Mister Tom.” Aunt Dozie’s large frame blocked the doorway. “We got us company for dinner, honey. I’s just putting de eats on de table and’ll put out more dishes.”
“Thank you, but we wouldn’t want to put you out—”
“Ain’t no put out to it, boy. We gots plenty. Can’t yo smell that fresh light bread? Jist get yoreself on in here.”
Henry Ann laughed. “We’ve all learned around here not to argue with Aunt Dozie. You may as well give up and come in.”
Hod waved to Frank Hamer, and he came to the house. “We’ve been invited to dinner, Frank. Ma’am, this is Frank Hamer.”
“How do you do.” Henry Ann extended her hand. “Please excuse my bare feet. I just came from town, and it felt mighty good to get out of my shoes and stockings.”
This is the man Vern was raving about. He looks like an ordinary man to me.
“Think nothing of it. I’m tempted to do the same.”
“Sit here on the porch while Aunt Dozie sets the table. Would you like a cool drink?”
“Thank you, but we had one at Tom’s.”
“Is that fresh bread I smell?” Frank asked.
“Right out of the oven.”
“I’ve not smelled bread like that since I was home on the farm in Nebraska.” Hod sat down in one of the homemade, straight-backed chairs that had been at the farm since Ed Henry was a little boy.
“There’ll be plenty of it. I’ll get Jay. He may be hiding. He’s shy of strangers.”
Henry Ann went into the house and returned a minute or two later with Jay’s hand clasped in hers. She had taken time to brush his hair and see to it that his face and hands were clean.
“Jay, this is your uncle.” Henry Ann stopped in front of Hod Dolan and bent down to speak to Jay. “Remember when I told you that Johnny was my brother? This man is your daddy’s brother.”
“Hello, Jay.” Hod held out his hand, but Jay lowered his chin to his chest and moved closer to Henry Ann.
“Your daddy would shake hands,” Henry Ann whispered in the boy’s ear.
Shyly, Jay put his hand in Hod’s.
“You look a lot like your daddy did when he was a boy.”
Jay looked up. “I love my daddy.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I like him a lot, too. One time when we were about your age, I fell in the horse tank. Your daddy grabbed the back of my overalls and kept my head above the water. He yelled for help and our big brother, Mike, came and pulled me out.”
“I Daddy’s big boy.”
“You sure are.”
Jay had edged closer until he was leaning against Hod’s knees. Henry Ann backed away, smiled at Mr. Hamer, and went into the house.
When called to dinner, the two men seemed to be right at home sitting at the table with Aunt Dozie, although Henry Ann suspected it was a novel experience for them. Henry Ann had warned Dozie that if she didn’t sit at the table, she wouldn’t sit there either.
Jay appeared to be enamored of his uncle. Every time he spoke, the child’s eyes fastened on his face. Hod’s resemblance to Tom was uncanny, even to the tone of his voice.
As soon as Hod and Frank Hamer entered the kitchen, they had noticed that it was spotlessly clean and devoid of pesky houseflies. The table was covered with clean white oilcloth and loaves of fresh bread were cooling on the counter. They ate the strips of fried bacon, gravy, new potatoes, and peas. The thick slabs of fresh bread they covered with butter brought up from the cellar. When the meal was over they accepted second cups of coffee.
“It’s been a while since I put my feet under a kitchen table and ate such a fine meal.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Hamer.”
“The government gives us an allowance for meals. We’ll pay—”
“—You’ll do nothing of the kind. Mr. Dolan is our neighbor and . . . friend. My brother and our hired man are over there today. We’re helping him with his field work, and he’s going to fix our car.”
“It’s a relief to know that my brother has good friends close by, ma’am. He needs them.” Hod Dolan’s dark eyes caught and held Henry Ann’s.
“Hen Ann gived me a frog.” Jay’s childish voice broke the silence that followed Hod’s words.
“A frog? What’a ya know about that. Your daddy and I used to catch frogs.”
“Mama burned it in the stove.”
Hod tried to think of an answer to that. His dark eyes flicked again to Henry Ann. She plucked a sack from on top of the sewing machine behind her and pulled out a candy stick.
“Now’s a good time for you to have this.”
“Dat youngun goin’ be one sticky mess.” Aunt Dozie adjusted the cloth she had tied around Jay’s neck when she sat him in the high chair.
Henry Ann laughed at the expression of delight on the child’s face.
“He’ll wash up, Aunt Dozie.”
The men got to their feet. “Thank you for the meal, ladies,” Hod said. “I don’t know when I’ve had a better one.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Yo ’bout as good a eater as Mistah Tom. Dat man pack away grub like he gonna get hanged. He come here, and Lordy, I do think his legs is holler.”
“All of us Dolans are big eaters.” Hod grinned, as if remembering. “Good-bye, Jay. I’ll be back to see you one of these days.”
“’Bye.” The child took the candy out of his mouth long enough to speak.
Henry Ann walked with the men to the porch.
“I’d like to ask you”—she hesitated—“if in your work you’ve run across the name Grant Gifford. My hired man came off the road. I know that I took a chance hiring a man that I knew nothing about and just wondered—”
Hod looked at Frank Hamer and waited for him to speak.
“Can you describe him?”
“He’s around thirty, thin, this much taller than I am”—she held her hands about six inches apart—“blond hair, very well educated. He plays the guitar and sings. He knows a lot about a lot of things. He said that he learned them while bumming around for the past two years. I don’t know whether to believe him or not. He’s terribly nice and a good worker, but I worry about having him here when I know nothing of his background.”
I worry because my friend Karen is falling in love with him.
“I’ve not heard of a man by that name wanted by the law. But I’ll make some inquiries, and if anything turns up, I’ll let you know.”
“I’d appreciate that. Grant’s been a big help to us, and my brother likes him a lot. He’s thinking of settling down around here.”
“It’s a good idea to find out about a man’s past before you get romantically involved with him.”
“Oh, that isn’t it at all. I’m not in the least interested in him . . . that way, nor is he interested in me. I guess I’m overcautious.”
“It pays to be cautious nowdays.”
“Well, thanks for the advice.”
“I appreciate the help you’re giving Tom,” Hod said. “If I wasn’t tied up right now, I would stay on. Things will have to change over there . . . and soon.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. Good-bye, Mr. Dolan, and good-bye to you, Mr. Hamer. Good luck with your . . . ah . . . catching outlaws.”
The car pulled away from the farm with its neat shady yard, hollyhocks growing along the fence and around the mailbox, and beds of flowering petunias.
“That’s one nice place,” Frank said.
“And one nice woman,” Hod added.
“Strange how things happen. I’d almost forgotten about Grant Gifford. Who’d have thought he’d turn up working in a cotton patch?”
“It may not be the Gifford we know about. There must be more than one Grant Gifford.”
“Hardly one that fits that description and was raised in this part of the country.”
“It’s been several years. Reckon he’s been wandering around all this time?”
“He took what happened pretty hard.”
“Yeah. But he was damn good. He did his damnedest, and he was convinced he was right.” Hod took off his hat and placed it on the seat between them.
“Sometimes being right isn’t enough.”
“Too bad to lose a man like him. Too bad, too, that Tom couldn’t have married a woman like Miss Henry.”
“Sometimes a pretty woman causes a man to think with his pecker instead of his brain.”
“What do you know about Martin Conroy? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Not many folks outside of Texas have. He’s one of those dudes who thinks they’re better’n everybody else ’cause they’ve got money.”
“Rich, rich, or kinda rich?”
“He’s not a Rockefeller or an Astor, but he has money. He tried to run for governor while I was a Ranger. He’s one of these fellers who thought he’d go right to the top ridin’ on his granddaddy’s coattails. He went over to Mineral Wells thinking he’d get the backing of the boys who own the Crazy Crystal Hotel. They laughed at him. I heard that they told him they’d rather back a horned toad. He got smart and made threats. It was the wrong thing to do. Out on a dark street a night or two later he met up with a couple of birds and came away looking like he’d tangled with a freight train. His campaign never got off the ground.”
“Money talks though.”
“I think old Granddaddy Conroy knew what his son and grandson were like. I heard that he put everything in a trust, and Martin gets only so much a year. Yet, it must be quite a hunk.”
“Goddamn! I hate to leave Tom in this mess. He sure doesn’t deserve a lifetime of hell with that woman.”
“Sometimes fate kicks a man in the teeth, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it but get new teeth and ride out the storm.” Frank pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and the big car picked up speed. “Look at the map, Hod, and see how far it is up to Lawton.”
C
ONROY
, T
EXAS
ONROY
, T
EXAS
Marty Conroy stopped his car in front of the Victorian-style house that had been his home all his life. He slammed the door of the car when he left it and ran up the steps to the porch. His heart was beating like a hammer in his chest. Teeny, the colored housemaid, opened one of the twin beveled-glass doors and Marty entered the foyer.
“How is he?” Marty roughly slapped his hat into her hand.
“He upstairs.”
“I didn’t say
where
, dammit. I said
how
,” he snapped.
where
, dammit. I said
how
,” he snapped.
Without waiting for the maid to answer, Marty hurried across the polished wood floor, his clicking bootheels echoing through the quiet house. He looked up as he reached the stairs to see his mother coming down.
“Do you have to be so noisy? You sound like a herd of cows.”
“How is he?”
“Not good, I’m afraid.”
“What happened? He was all right when I left here a couple of weeks ago.”
“His heart is failing. He’ll go anytime now.”
“Why isn’t he in the hospital?”
“Are you questioning my judgment?”
“You know I’m not, Mama.”
“If you can’t call me Mother, don’t call me anything.”
“I’m sorry. I’m upset. I wish you’d wired me sooner.”
“I didn’t know sooner. I didn’t know until he keeled over night before last. The doctor said he’d told Martin a year ago that his heart was weak. He also said that he could either die here in the bed where his father and grandfather died or in the hospital. It would make not one whit of difference in how long he lived. When it was time to go, he’d go.”
“Can I see him?”
“The nurse is with him now. When she comes out, you can go in.” Alice Conroy, her head held high, her face calm and emotionless, moved on down the stairs. “Take off those boots. I’ve told you repeatedly not to wear them in the house.” She went past her son and into the dining room. “I’m ready for my lunch now, Teeny.”
Marty climbed to the top of the stairs, sat down, took off his boots, and waited for the nurse to come out of his father’s room. In all his life, he’d never seen Alice Conroy’s calm reserve shaken except when it concerned his sister, Emmajean. His mother had doted on her when she was a child, dressed her like a doll, showed her off. All that changed when Emmajean was about twelve years old and began to act rebellious and have temper fits.
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