Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (18 page)

“So what? You've got a wife and kid at home. He's nothin' but a damn thief.”

“Don't give me that shit,” the mild-mannered Andy shouted. “He's just a wet-eared kid. And he's been a damn good worker.”

“Yeah? You almost got yourself killed for a sorry sonof-a-bitch that wouldn't give you the time of day. If those beams had buckled, you'd a been a goner. A thief ain't worth a good man takin' a risk for.” The foreman rolled up a coat and placed it under Andy's head. He continued to mutter. “He could be a murderer, too, for all we know. I didn't know he was a jailbird till after I hired him.”

“How bad is it?” Andy lifted his head, trying to see his foot.

“Hell, I don't know. A stretcher is comin'.”

“Give the boy some credit, Mac. He got the …iron off me. I don't know how the hell he did it. He's been sick with the influenza.”

“What the hell!” The foreman reared up and cursed long and loud. “The goddamn bank gave way again. If you hadn't gone down with the rope, he'd be a dead duck by now. He owes you plenty.”

“He don't…owe me anythin'—”

“He'll make himself scarce around here. Never thought he had the guts to do a man's work nohow.”

“You're a hard ass, Mac.”

The foreman yelled, “Harris, back my truck up here and for God's sake stay out of the mud.”

“Brin' my wife to the doc's—”

“I'll see to it that she gets there. Hold on, Andy. The boys are here with the stretcher. Hey! Careful or you'll slide down that muddy bank—”

“Tell the boy …thanks—”

“Shit! He should be over here kissin' yore ass for what ya done instead of mewin' around like a sick cat. Them damn kids is all alike; sittin' round with their finger up their butts lookin' for handout or somethin' to steal. Ain't a one of 'em worth the powder it'd take to blow 'em up.”

Yates, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, heard the foreman's words. Weak from his recent bout with influenza and shaken from his brush with death, his stomach suddenly rebelled and he became violently sick. He hurried to the woods, wrapped his arms around a young sapling and emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground.

Leona held tightly to Yates's hand while he was talking. When he finished, she gave it an extra squeeze.

“I never saw Andy again until I stopped at the garage for gas. I've always regretted that I didn't hitch a ride to the hospital to see him.”

Chapter 15

W
HAT MADE YOU DECIDE TO COME BACK?
Leona felt a closeness to him she'd not felt before. It gave her the courage to ask the question.

He moved her hand, flattened her palm on his thigh and covered it with his. His palm stroked the back of her hand. Leona felt the hammering of her pulse. She turned her face a fraction and looked at him. The moon shed a pale light on his profile. Midnight-black hair, always resentful of a brush, had fallen on his forehead. He looked younger, softer, more vulnerable. His face turned toward her and, if she could believe what she saw in it, it was loneliness, pain.

Inside she trembled.

“I don't really know why I was compelled to come back. It was guilt or that I needed to know how he'd made out. I had heard that he'd lost his foot.”

“It was rough on him and Irene for a time. Then he bought the garage. I don't really know, but I think he got help from the bank through Mr. Fleming. The garage is paid for now.”

“You're easy to talk to, Leona. Easy to be with.”

She lost her breath for an instant, then said, “How old were you …when it happened?”

“I'd just turned nineteen—old enough to have some selfconfidence. But I had none. I was humiliated and scared. I'd spent a month in jail accused of stealing a man's wallet. I didn't do it. I had money. I didn't need to steal, but no one believed me. The foreman treated me like dirt. I swore, then and there, that never again would anyone talk to or about me the way he did.”

“Good for you,” she murmured, thinking about the time she'd made up her mind to take no more abuse and had broken out of Virgil's shed.

“The first thing I did was the hardest.” He rubbed the palm of her hand along his thigh. She didn't seem to notice. “I went back home and confronted my adopted father and demanded that he give me my inheritance from my mother and grandparents.”

“Did he give it to you?”

“Reluctantly.” Yates waited until an approaching car had passed before saying anything more. The headlights shone briefly on his face turning his cheeks into dark hollows and his eyes into shadows beneath his black, level brows. His mouth was firm and unsmiling. Now he looked big, tough and hard as stone. “I have to wait until he dies to get the rest of it. I stay away or I'd be tempted to kill him.”

Leona wanted to know more about his relationship with his father, but was too polite to ask. She remained silent. He moved his hand from hers to change gears as they passed through Elk City. When they were on the highway again, he blindly searched for the hand she had placed in her lap, found it and laced his fingers through hers.

“Lord, it feels good having you close to me. I like holding your hand,” he said softly. “Do you mind?”

“No.” She felt as if her heart was going to jump out of her chest.

“It's made the drive between here and the city go fast. It's hard to believe that we're almost home.”

His words jarred her back to reality.
It made the drive go fast.
That's all there was to it for him. She had been handy a good listener and it had made the time go fast. She had foolishly thought that he had told her about himself because he liked her, and had wanted to share with her some of what made him the man he was. She tried to pull her hand from his, but his fingers tightened.

“I've enjoyed the day. Far more than I thought I would.” He took his eyes off the road to glance down at her. She had turned her head and was looking out the window. “Leona?”

“Yeah, so have I.” After a pause, she rushed into speech. “I wonder what kind of day Deke had, and if we have campers. It was good of Deke to use his Sunday to stay at the garage. People seem to like him. He could talk to a stump.”

Yates immediately sensed the change in her and when she tugged on her hand again, he released it. They drove the rest of the way to the garage in silence. He was puzzled by her sudden aloofness. A few minutes ago she seemed not to mind being close to him and he had loved the feel of her soft body against his. Now, she was doing her best to keep from even touching him.

She was thinking that she had been gullible to think that because he held her hand and told her of his past he was interested in her. He was a man who had been places, done things and obviously wasn't short of money. Why would he give a girl like her a second look? She'd better get her head out of the clouds or she'd be in for some dark days ahead. He'd be moving on when Andy came home.

Deke was sitting on the front porch when the car stopped behind the garage. Yates came around and took the sleeping child from Leona's arms.

“We're home, honey,” he said when, disturbed, JoBeth whimpered a protest. “You'll be in your bed soon.”

“Ya all right, darlin'? Ya look tired.” Deke extended his hand and helped Leona out of the car. His homely, familiar face was a welcome sight. She didn't even resent the usual irritating “darlin'.”

“Thank you. I'm kind of stiff from sitting so long,” she said with a light laugh, grabbed his hand and let him pull her out of the car. “It's been a long day.” She opened the back door and shook Ruth Ann's shoulder. “Wake up, Ruthy We're home.”

Holding on to the sleepy girl, Leona led the way into the house. She turned on the light and directed Yates to the bedroom where he placed JoBeth on the bed. Ruth Ann climbed up beside her and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

“Thank you,” Leona murmured to Yates as she removed JoBeth's shoes.

“I'll bring in the picnic basket.”

Leona undressed the girls, leaving them to sleep in only their underpants, and pulled a sheet over them. She turned out the light and left the room. Yates had placed the picnic basket and the sack of hot tamales on the kitchen table. Hearing the murmur of voices on the porch, she hurried there to thank Deke before he left. The men were sitting on the step. Both stood when she came out onto the porch.

“I just wanted to say thanks, Deke, for staying so we could go see Andy. And thanks for the hot tamales. I'll warm them up and have them tomorrow.”

“You're welcome, darlin'. Anytime you want anythin', ya know I'll get it for ya if I can.” Without the Stetson hat, he looked like a small boy standing beside Yates.

“I know that, Deke. Goodnight,” Leona said and watched the men go down the path to stand beside Yates's car.

“Feller came in on a motorcycle with a girl in a side car. They're camped down there in the woods,” Deke said, and screwed his big hat down on his head. “I sized him up as a blow-hard, know-it-all pissant. Wanted to borrow tools. I made him use them here where I could keep an eye on him.”

“Did he give you any trouble?”

“Naw He tried to tell me how great his cycle was. It's a pile of junk. He said he used it to chase down jackrabbits. Shhhhit! He couldn't catch clap in a whorehouse.”

Yates grinned.

“I didn't like the way he talked to his woman. She was a quiet little thing. It didn't seem to me like the two went together. She bein' kinda lady-like, him not bein' fit to shoot.”

“You meet all kinds here on the highway.”

“Did my girl have a good time?”

“Leona? I think so. She was glad to see Andy.”

“Andy's a good man. She ort to marry him.”

Yates frowned down on the little man puffing on his cigarette. The brim of his big hat shielded his face.

“I thought she was your girl. Why would you want her to marry another man?”

“She'd not marry me if I asked her. I want her to have a good man who'll take care of her. Andy's a good man. After a while talk about her would simmer down if she married him.” Deke dropped his cigarette on the ground and ground it out with the toe of his boot.

“Not as long as Virgil is here to keep it stirred up.”

“I just might have to kill that son-of-a-bitch.”

Yates wished that he'd kept count of how many times Deke had said that. “Maybe he'll ease off after a while.”

“Don't count on it.” Deke snorted. “The deputy sheriff was here today nosin' round.”

“What'd he want?”

“Wanted to know who you were, where you came from, and if you were living here with Leona while Andy was gone. He hinted that Leona wasn't fit to be raisin' Andy's girls. The mangy polecat's got a nasty mind.”

“Andy told me that he and Virgil belonged to that overzealous group in the holy roller church.”

“Yeah. My mama goes to that church. Not all of them think like Virgil. He thinks that God put females on this earth for men to use as they see fit.”

“Is the deputy an elected official?”

“Appointed by the county sheriff. Course, Sayre is about the only thin' in the county and it's full of those who believes like the deputy does, but maybe not as strong.”

“Is the sheriff one of them?”

“Naw, but he pretty much lets Wayne have his way around here. Sheriff McChesney is busy looking for bootleggers.”

“Who's the district marshal around here?”

“If there's one, he ain't been around. Don't mess with old Wayne. Give him an inch and he'll plop you in the jail house if he ain't pissin' on the dirt you're layin' under. Then it'd be too late for Sheriff McChesney to do anythin' about it. Wayne'd like nothin' better than to get you out of the way so Virgil can come get Andy's girls.”

“Virgil won't get Andy's girls and he won't touch Leona either. I don't care how many lawmen he has with him.”

Deke lit another cigarette. “I'd stick around, Yates, but they're hayin' out at the ranch and Mr. Fleming depends on me to keep the machinery goin'.”

“We'll be all right. I've got a couple of irons I can pull out of the fire if I have to.”

“Just want you to know that you're not alone out here. I'll be by every few days to help ya keep a eye on things. Watch that bird in the campground. I don't like the looks of him.” Deke got into his truck and started the motor. “Thanks for takin' care of my girl today.”

Yates watched Deke drive away. He was a strange, likable little cuss. He had no doubt that he'd tear into anyone or anything that was a threat to Leona and fight with all the strength in his small wiry body to protect her. It was a sad, cherishing kind of love since he had to know that she would never be his.

The sound of a motor awakened Leona. She turned over, lay for a few more minutes before she sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. It was that short period of the morning just before sunup. She rolled out of bed and dressed swiftly. After washing her face and hands, she ran the comb through her hair to smooth out a few of the tangles, then picked up the milk pail and headed for the barn.

“Mornin', MaryLou,” she called to the brown cow who was waiting patiently and lowed as she neared her. Leona pulled up an overturned bucket and sat down.

She liked the smell of the barn, the cow, and the warm milk streaming into the pail. Life was so uncomplicated for a cow, she thought as she nudged the udder and squeezed the cow's teats. All MaryLou had to do was stand there and someone would come and give her relief from her aching udder. Milk shot into the bucket Leona held between her feet. She milked steadily for several minutes.

“You're a pretty girl, aren't you?” She spoke softly to the cow and rested her head against her smooth brown side. Strong fingers squeezed and pulled in rhythm until the milk stopped coming. “I'm finished. You can go out and find some nice green grass to chew on.”

“Does she ever answer you?”

Yates's voice was close behind her and so startling that Leona spun around. Her foot kicked the milk pail. She caught the handle just in time to keep it from spilling.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn't look sorry. His smile softened the hard contours of his face. “I looked in the kitchen. When you weren't there I figured to find you here with MaryLou.”