Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (3 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
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He’s brittle and prickly as a cocklebur
, she thought, but said, “You’re . . . welcome to come in.”
“I’ll be gettin’ on.”
“Well. Thank you for the ride.” Henry Ann backed away, and the car moved on down the road, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.
Home looked good. It always seemed to when she had been away, even for a brief time. She had lived all her life in this neat white frame house with its two rooms across the front, two across the back, and lean-to porch that served as a kitchen stoop. A steep stairway led to the loft where Johnny slept. The rail-enclosed porch wrapped two sides of the house and hemmed in the two front doors. A half dozen huge pecan trees shaded the yard.
To the side of the house were a medium-sized barn, a shed, and the cow lot. There was a tight corral for the stock and beyond the barn a pigpen. A well, stone-enclosed, with a cylinder bucket hanging from the crossbar, was located between the house and the buildings; and near it was the storm cellar, with its slanting plank door.
“Ohhh—” Isabel let out a shriek when a large longhaired dog bounded from the back of the house, wagging its tail in delight.
“It’s Shep. She won’t hurt you.” Henry Ann leaned down to scratch the woolly head. “Miss me, Shep? This is Isabel. When you get acquainted, I bet you’ll be friends.”
“I don’t like dogs! It’ll . . . bite me.”
“She’ll bite only to protect herself—or me. But never mind. Come on in.”
Isabel followed Henry Ann into the house, casting fearful glances back at the dog. The house was cool and quiet.
“Guess Daddy isn’t here.”
“I’m here.”
The voice came from the small room off the parlor. Henry Ann went to the door to see her father, fully clothed, lying on the bed.
“Are you sick, Daddy?” she asked with a worried frown as she went into the room to stand beside the bed.
“Just got a pain in my belly. It’ll go away.” He raised himself up and rested his feet on the floor.
Ed Henry was not a big man. He was slim and hard work had made him wiry. Henry Ann, who had seldom seen him sick, noted with alarm that his face was flushed beneath his deep tan and that his hands were clenched into fists. His thin gray hair looked as if he’d been in a Texas windstorm.
“Maybe if you drank some soda water, you’d throw up and feel better.”
“I done that. Go on now. Get your hat off. Did you bring the girl?”
“Yes. Come in here, Isabel.”
The girl came into the room, still holding her box. She stood close to Henry Ann and looked at the man sitting on the bed as if expecting him to spring up and bite her.
“Hello, girl.” Ed looked steadily at the girl. “You look a mite like your ma when I first saw her.”
Isabel looked down at the floor.
“She’s tired. We both are.” Henry Ann took off her hat. “We had a layover in Ardmore and walked halfway from town before Mr. Dolan picked us up.”
“Go get her settled. I’ll get up in a minute.”
“You stay right there. I’ll bring you some supper.”
“I don’t want anything.”
“Where’s Johnny?”
“I’ve not seen him for a day or two.”
“He didn’t help you drag logs in from the lower woods?”
“He took off with Pete Perry.”
“Gosh darn it!” Henry Ann exclaimed. “I told him that if he didn’t stay away from the Perrys, he’d end up in jail.”
“He’s got a right to know his kin, babe.”
“Told ya.” Isabel was close behind Henry Ann when she left the room. “Mama said he warn’t no good. Jist like his pa.”
Henry Ann went to the room off the kitchen.
“This is my room. We’ll share it. Put your things here in the wardrobe.” She took off her traveling dress and hung it on a hanger. Sitting on the bed in her slip, she took off her shoes and stockings.
“Mama was pretty . . . once. Did he mean that I’m pretty?”
“Of course. But being pretty is not an asset if you don’t have any horse sense to go with it. Look what happened to our mother.”
“She was a floozy, but men were crazy about her.”
“She was dumb, selfish, self-centered, and completely lacking in morals. Being pretty may have been her downfall. It attracted the wrong kind of men.”
“Well! I never! You’re talkin’ about my mama and she’s . . . dead! That’s mean of you.”
Henry Ann shook her head. A while ago Isabel was calling their mother a whore. Now she was defending her. Henry Ann slipped a work dress over her head, buttoned it up, and reached for her everyday shoes.
“I didn’t mean to be unkind, but every word I said is true. You can follow in her footsteps and end up as she did, or you can make a decent life for yourself. All Daddy and I can do for you is offer you a home, as we did Johnny. It’s up to you.”
“Maybe I should’a gone to the county home.”
“If you want to go, Daddy’ll give you bus fare. You’ve just turned fifteen. Mama’s age when she married Daddy. We’d like you to be a part of our family, finish school, and have a better life than Mama had. But, as I said, it’s up to you.”
“I came with you, didn’t I? I could’ve got a job and stayed in the city.”
“A job doing what? Jobs are as scarce as hen’s teeth, in case you haven’t noticed.” Henry Ann turned her back so Isabel wouldn’t see how hard she was trying to hold on to her patience.
“I could’ve worked in a five and dime . . . maybe,” she retorted stubbornly.
“Change into one of your old dresses. We’ll have to do chores before supper.”
“What chores? I ain’t goin’ to be no hired hand.”
“Did you think you were going to be a guest here? This is your home now. We share the work.”
“I bet Johnny don’t,” she mumbled as she pulled her dress off over her head.
Henry Ann left her. She’d suffered Isabel’s grumblings all the way from Oklahoma City, and she didn’t know how much more she could take before she lost her temper. She paused in the doorway of her father’s room. He had lain back down on the bed.
“What needs to be done, Daddy?”
“Pen up the chickens, babe, and fork some hay to the cows. I did a poor job of milkin’, but what I got is on the porch. And . . . I didn’t get around to separating the morning milk.”
“That’s all right. I’ll do it in the morning. I’m worried about you.” Henry Ann went to the bed and placed her palm on his forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”
“Just a little one. I’ll be all right.”
“I brought you a newspaper. President Hoover is threatening to send the troops in to clear out the veterans who marched on Washington demanding a bonus. They’ve been there a couple of months and have built a tent city. It would be disgraceful to turn armed soldiers on our veterans who saved us from the Kaiser.”
“Yeah, it would. Have they caught the man who kidnapped the Lindbergh baby?”
“Not yet, but there are several articles in the paper about it. Would you like to read them now? I’ll get the paper and turn on the light.”
“I’ll read it tomorrow.” His voice sounded strange, and he was breathing hard.
“Did you get the tube for the radio?”
“No, babe. I plumb forgot about it. Get along now. It’s almost dark.”
* * *
Ed Henry had a lot on his mind. He lay on his bed looking up through the dark to the ceiling, remembering the day he had come to this place. In his mid-twenties, he had inherited it from a childless uncle who had died in a flash flood. Ed had visited his uncle often and had loved the farm the minute he saw it—one hundred acres of good cotton land, two hundred acres of grazing, and a fine, stout house. There was not a nickel’s debt against it, and he vowed that he’d never mortgage his land. To this day he had been able to keep that vow.
He had dreamed of raising a large family here, buying more land, and helping his sons get a start. It wasn’t to be. The young girl he had chosen to be his life’s mate had had beauty, but it was only skin-deep. Inside she was ugly clear to the bone, a fact he’d discovered soon after they married. She had given him Henry Ann, and that gift had kept him from hating her.
When Henry Ann had come of age, he had transfered the deed to the land to her, fearing that if something happened to him, Dorene, as his legal wife, would inherit. Now, thank God, there was no danger of her stirring up trouble—but her kids were legally his kids.
Dear God, why hadn’t he divorced her?
A month ago Doctor Hendricks had told him that he had a cancer growing in his belly. Soon his precious Henry Ann would be left alone to deal with Dorene’s two kids. He had been willing for her to bring Isabel here, thinking the girl might have some of Henry Ann’s good qualities and would be a help to her. Johnny was another matter. Something was eating at the boy, and, if he didn’t settle down, he would more than likely end up in the pen in McAlester.
Ed had hoped to live long enough to see Henry Ann settled with a good man and children of her own. Now he had to face the fact that it wasn’t to be. She was strong, his Henry Ann; strong, levelheaded, and smart as a whip. He had wanted her to go on to college, but that would have meant mortgaging the land, and she would not hear of it. During the past few weeks he had taken steps to make things as easy for her as possible after he was gone.
Ed went over in his mind the list of single men he knew. Most of them had come courting from time to time, but none of them had caught Henry Ann’s fancy. Soon there would be plenty who would try to marry her. Times were hard, and even if they did get that fool Hoover out of office, Ed wasn’t sure if things would ever get any better. A woman with three hundred acres free and clear would be a prize some men would kill for.
He was leaving his daughter better off than most. He had been careful with his money, careful not to go into debt. She would have a good crop of cotton, if some fool didn’t bring in a piddly gusher and spray oil all over it. At the last count there were sixty-three steers. And he’d squirreled away some hard cash. Ed’s mind raced to cotton-picking time. The thought crossed his mind that he’d not be here to see it.
He had met his new neighbor a time or two. Thomas Dolan wasn’t exactly friendly, but he seemed a decent enough fellow. He had bought Perdie’s farm after the old man died. From the looks of things they were living a hand-to-mouth existence over there. It was said that his wife, who came from moneyed folks down in Texas, had fought the move to the farm tooth and nail. Ed knew how hard it was to farm and care for a child without a woman’s help.
Aunt Dozie said she’d heard that Mrs. Dolan seldom left the house, and when she did, it was only to sit on the porch all dressed up as if she was going to church. Once in a while Dolan would give a girl a quarter to come out and clean; but, as badly as the girl wanted the money, she wouldn’t go back because she was afraid of Mrs. Dolan. The girl said Mr. Dolan did everything, even the washing, and lately had started taking his young son to the field with him.
The situation reminded Ed of the few years he’d spent with Dorene. He and Henry Ann had been better off without her, but at the time he had not known how he was going to farm and care for a young child.
Tom Dolan might be willing to help with the field work in exchange for the use of their mules to work his own land. Dolan’s team was as sorry a team as Ed had ever seen pulling a plow.
Johnny was capable enough and had seemed to settle in lately. Then he’d become acquainted with some of his mother’s relations who were known bootleggers and rustlers. It seemed that they might have convinced him that there were faster and easier ways to make money than riding behind a team of mules. Henry Ann would not be able to depend on him.
The first thing in the morning, Ed decided, he would go to town if he could get his car started. He’d see Doctor Hendricks, find out how much time he had left, then go have a talk with the sheriff and ask him to keep an eye on his girl.

 

Chapter Two
When morning came, Ed was half out of his mind with pain. He felt as if demons with hot pitchforks were inside his belly. His muffled cries brought Henry Ann rushing to his room.
“Daddy! Daddy—”
“Babe. Get . . . that bottle . . . in the top drawer.”
She fetched the bottle and looked at it with an expression of horror.
“It’s laudanum, Daddy!”
“Yes, yes. Put some in water.”
“How long have you been taking this?”
“Don’t fuss. I need it.”
Henry Ann hurried to the kitchen for water. She returned, tipped the bottle and allowed a few drops to drip into the glass.
“More.”
She added a few more drops and held his head up so he could drink.
“How long have you been taking this? The bottle is almost empty.”
“I’ve got to . . . see Doc Hendricks.” He was breathing hard through his open mouth. “When this takes away the pain . . . I’ll get up.”
BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]
7.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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