Morning Glory (24 page)

The sun was bright, promising a clear, hot day that
Sunday morning when Clara and Tilly drove to church.
Clara wore a bright blue dress of silk crepe de chine
with a matching jacket. It was styled to fit tightly in the
bodice and had a full, pleated skirt that swished around
her ankles. The full length sleeves of Georgette crepe
were cuffed and trimmed with pearl buttons. Her white
Panama hat sported a bright blue ribbon knotted on the
side. The whole outfit said she was confident and
mature. In her heart, she was neither. She'd made her
brag that she'd go right out to Briar's farm, even against
his will, if Libby wasn't comfortable at night without
Judith. He'd said he'd call the new sheriff and have her
tossed out in the middle of the night or taken to jail if
she tried. When she left the wedding reception at dusk, right after Judith and Cecil departed, they were still
bantering about the issue.

Tilly's crimson dress was made from the same pattern as Clara's but with brass buttons and a bit of black
lace trim on the jacket sleeves. Her hat was a smart
toque with a brim of satin-finished straw braid. A
shirred and draped crown of satin covered the top and
four tiny black rose buds graced the front. The veil that
fell to her chin was made of black netting and sported
a bit of lace around the edges.

"You sure got all dressed up today," Clara said. "You
decided to flirt with the preacher after all?"

"No, the lawman. I want him to see me as this little
innocent lady who goes to church on Sunday, runs a
farm and wouldn't think of staying up past nine o'clock
at night."

"In that get up, you're going to have trouble convincing him that you are innocent of anything. You look
like the madam of a brothel," Clara laughed.

"Well, what about you? You're going to make old
Briar's eyes pop out of his head"

"I doubt it. You keep forgetting in all your new-found
innocence that Briar was married to Lorianne Lawdry.
It would take a lot to make him look at me twice."

"Girl, you need to wake up and look in the mirror.
That man is besotted with you. Good grief!" she moaned
as she turned the corner to go the last block to the church
and found herself behind a wagon pulled by a team of
mules. "There's Truman Fanley and his brood"

Truman sat in the driver's seat. His wife Meredith
beside him and the whole wagon bed full of children.
He kept the mules going at a steady speed and from the
way his wife kept nodding, was having a lively conversation with her at the same time.

"How many kids do they have now?" Tilly asked.

"Ten, last count, but Beulah told me Meredith is
expecting another one about Christmas time."

"Hell's bells. Don't they know what causes that?"
"I expect they do and I also expect they don't care.
Kids seem well-fed, dressed, clean and happy. No one
can ever say Truman doesn't take care of his own family. Hard-working man and the children are all smiles.
Look at them. I'd like a whole wagon full just like that"

"Well, honey, you'd best get started right soon if you
want to beat out Father Time and get that many children. Does Briar want ten more kids?"

"I don't have any idea how many children Briar
would like to have and why do you keep bringing him
into the conversation? Besides, what about you? You
want a family or do you think we're too old to start one
at thirty?"

Tilly pulled the car into a parking place and watched
the Fanley kids jump out of the wagon and scatter six
ways to Sunday. "Never thought about it. Figured I'd
best have a husband first or you and Tucker would have
a hissy fit. Since I can't find one of them, the family
isn't an option just yet. Thank goodness we're here."

"Clara! Clara!" Libby came running from the church steps, leaving her father to stare after her as she
wrapped her arms around Clara's legs and hugged her
tightly. "You are coming to my house tonight."

"We'll see. You better go on in with your daddy
now." She hugged Libby.

Tilly cocked her head to one side. "What's this?"

"Nothing," Clara said.

"Clara" Briar held the door for both Anderson
cousins.

"Thank you, sir," Tilly said.

"Good morning, Briar." Clara wondered if God
could see the sparks dancing around them in the
church. And if He did, would lightning bolts start
jumping from the cloudless blue sky?

"I guess I'll be picking you up after supper to spend
the night at my house," he said.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Clara asked.

"Not at all. Libby asked and I said that would be fine.
You can have Judith's room, which has a connecting
door to Libby's."

Inez Potter poked Minnie Corman in the ribs and set
her jaw in disgust. It was bad enough when Clara used
to sit in front of Inez and George's drug store every day,
but now she was spending the night with that rich oil
man and talking about it right out in public. Had they
no shame at all? What kind of man was he anyway? He
had to be crazy, to be letting a woman of her questionable mental abilities keep his little girl every day. There
were lots of women in Healdton who would be a much better choice. Inez could hardly wait until church was
over so she could spread the news of what she'd heard.
Why, she might even go out to his house this afternoon
and tell him what she and the other ladies in town
thought. She could offer to keep that little girl, train her
up in the drug store to dust lower shelves and wash
dishes.

"I bet that hurt to give her permission for me to stay
with her a few nights," Clara whispered.

"Not at all. When I thought about it, I decided I liked
the idea. Talked to Bessie about it and she agreed with
me. So I'll pick you and Bessie both up right after supper. Libby gets her way and sleeps better. Bessie is
there to chaperone and the town won't hang you from a
cross. And I won't be called upon to make an honest
woman of you."

"You did what!" Clara exclaimed too loudly. Several
heads turned to see why she was raising her voice.

"Shhhh." He put a finger over his lips and grinned.

"Looks like you met your match, dear cousin," Tilly
whispered as she sat down on the back pew and patted
the empty space beside her. "He sure don't want to
have to make an honest woman of you, does he?"

"Hell's bells," Clara hissed.

"Ahhh, swearing in church. I expect the preacher
will say a prayer long enough to put me to sleep if he
gets a whiff of a cuss word," Tilly whispered.

The preacher took his place behind the podium at the front of the church. "We'll begin by singing hymn
number 104."

They'd sung the first verse and were into the chorus
when the back door opened and a man eased into the
pew right beside Tilly. He wore freshly-starched
trousers with heavy creases in the legs, a black leather
vest over a crisp white shirt and a bright, shiny badge
pinned on the vest. Clara took stock of the man from
the corner of her eye. His angular face sported a few
crow's feet around his dark eyes with the heaviest set of
lashes she'd ever seen on a man. Full lips that formed
the words of the hymn even before he found the right
song by checking the number in Tilly's book. Clara
noticed that Tilly was blushing beneath the veil on her
hat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen
Tilly turn crimson, but there it was. She couldn't wait
to get home and barrage Tilly with questions about why
the new lawman had made her blush.

"I'm glad to welcome our new sheriff this morning,"
the preacher said when the last notes of the hymn settled. "That would be Sheriff Rayford Sloan sitting on the
back pew beside the Anderson ladies. Please make him
welcome right after services. I've chosen to speak on
the evils around us this morning, especially the law
breaking and sinful effects of making and selling illegal
liquor. As you all know, when Oklahoma entered the
union ten years ago, it was with the understanding we'd
come into the union as a dry state. So in addition to being an abomination unto our Lord and Savior, it is
against the law-"

"Don't that just give you chills and make you want to
join the Temperance Ladies," Clara whispered into
Tilly's ear.

"Of course it gives me chills," Tilly mouthed and
pretended to shiver.

Just when Clara figured they'd be sitting there when
eternity dawned, the preacher wound down his sermon
and asked Truman to give the benediction while he tiptoed to the doors to greet each member of the congregation as they filed out. Truman must have figured his
wiggling children had had all the church they could
endure that morning because he barely prayed long
enough for the preacher to reach the doors before he
uttered a resounding "Amen" Clara heard a cumulative
sigh in the whole building, the biggest one coming
from Tilly.

"He sure stepped down firm on your toes," Clara said
as soon as they were in the car. "Thought you were
going to cry, your face turned so red."

"Next week he'll preach on the horrors of a woman
living in the same house with a man without a marriage
license," Tilly smarted right back.

"Oh, but, honey, I have a chaperone so he won't have
to marry me," Clara said.

"The things we do for a child. That Libby is cute
enough that I'd risk my reputation and stay with her at night if she asked me so I can't fault you for that.
What's Dulcie fixing for lunch? Fried chicken?"

"No, pot roast. She put it on right after breakfast. You
staying?"

"Of course. Bessie might need someone to fight in
her corner."

"I'm not mad at Bessie."

"Good, but I'll stay anyway. There's nothing at my
house but leftover ham and Dulcie makes a right mean
pot roast"

Tilly parked and both of them were walking up the
path toward the house when Briar pulled his car in
behind hers. The minute he opened the door, Libby
came running helter skelter, dress tails and curly hair
both flying. Her eyes were aglow with excitement and
a smile covered her angelic face.

She grabbed Clara's hand and pulled her toward the
house. "Guess what? Miss Bessie said we could eat
here today. It's the bestest day ever."

Clara looked back over her shoulder to see Briar
shrug.

Dulcie's preacher didn't have a burr in his short-alls
that morning concerning moonshine, so she'd gotten
home early and dinner was ready to dish up and put on
the table. Clara asked Olivia to say grace knowing that
it would surely be short. Olivia did not disappoint her.

After lunch, Libby yawned and asked for a nap.

Briar looked at Clara.

"Of course, you can take a nap, sweetheart," Clara
nodded. "All the ladies at the Morning Glory Inn take a
Sunday afternoon nap."

"Where will Daddy sleep?" she asked.

"He can go home for a nap and come back to get
you"

"Can he sleep in your room?" Libby asked.

"Where would I sleep, then?" Clara avoided Briar's
eyes.

"With me," Libby smiled.

"Sounds like a good plan to me" Tilly finished off a
slice of coconut pie. "I'm going home and take a long
nap myself."

Thirty minutes later, Clara found herself with a four
year old snuggled up against her, snoring so slightly it
sounded like a kitten's purr. She couldn't sleep so she
entertained herself by staring at Libby and pretending
the child was hers, that it was the most normal thing in
the world for her to be taking a Sunday afternoon nap
with her. Someday when she and Briar had children of
their own, she'd cuddle with them, but she'd never
leave Libby out of the picture because she might not be
the child of her flesh but she certainly was the first one
of her heart.

Clara's eyes widened and she lay very still, trying to
shake that crazy thought from her head. Sure, he'd
kissed her a few times and it made her whole insides
quiver. A dark doom settled over her. Briar Nelson
wouldn't have Clara Anderson. The woman was odd. The village idiot. A deeper gloom filled Clara's breast
at the thought of Briar marrying someone else and
some other woman raising Libby. She finally eased out
of the bed and sat in a rocking chair, her arms wrapped
around her waist as she tried to fight off the chill inside
her heart.

Briar couldn't have slept if it had been a matter of
life and death. He was in Clara's room, could smell her
scent on the pillow case, see her personality in the
things scattered about the room. A book of poetry she
was reading for the next meeting at the library. A day
dress draped over the back of a rocking chair. A picture
of a lady on her dresser, another one of the same lady
with a dark-haired man, both of them younger and in
wedding clothes. Another one when the man and
woman were older with a little girl beside them.

He had never had time to sit for a family picture with
Lorianne and Libby. Lorianne left when the baby was
only a month old. But when he and Clara were married,
he'd remedy that matter.

He sat straight up in the bed so fast he got a rush to
his head. Great God in heaven, where did that thought
come from? Marry Clara? He didn't think so. Even if
he admitted aloud that he'd fallen in love with the
woman, she'd never say yes to him. He liked the way
she fit into his arms. Loved the way she adored Libby.
And he enjoyed talking to her about any and everything, but to wed the woman? To tell her he'd fallen in
love with her? No, it couldn't be.

Libby awoke with a fresh head of steam, ready to go
home, to take Bessie and Clara with her. Clara and
Briar were cool toward each other, neither quite sure of
how to deal with the emotional upheaval in their hearts.
How on earth had it happened anyway? Three months
before they couldn't stand each other. Libby kept up a
running chatter with Bessie in the backseat on the way
to the farm. Briar kept his eyes on the road and Clara
looked out the side window. Both of them counted the
long hours until bedtime when they could escape each
other's company.