Runabout (8 page)

}"Tulsy! The ring!" he suddenly called out to her.

}Glancing back she saw the shiny, brilliant brass ring dangling along the side of the merry-go-round. She knew capturing it would mean a prize.

}Clinging precariously to the pole, she leaned as far as she could. Beyond the loud music of the calliope and the excited giggles and shouts of children, Tulsa May could hear Luther Briggs cheering her on.

}It was closer now, daring her, luring her. It glimmered in the sunshine, bright and shiny, perfectly round, like a halo or a wedding ring.

}Tulsa May grabbed. Nearly unseating herself in the effort, her hands clamped only around emptiness. She'd missed. Her eyes turned to Luther in disappointment only to find him cheering. She felt a tug on her arm and looked down in disbelief. The brass ring dangled loosely upon her wrist.

}

}The high-backed wooden wheelchair got stuck momentarily in the buggy ruts and Emma Dix had to put her back into it to get the contraption moving again.

}"Willie! What a delight!"

}Emma cringed slightly when she saw the man walking toward them. Keeping her eyes down, she nonetheless continued forward.

}"Good day, Preacher." The wasted old man in the wheelchair spoke in greeting as he waved weakly in acknowledgment of his old friend.

}Reverend Bruder clasped the pale, age-spotted hand in his own and smiled down in genuine affection.

}"I'm so glad you were able to join us, Willie," he said. "There's to be singing this afternoon and it just wouldn't be the same without you."

}The old man chuckled in modest gratitude before gesturing to Emma. "My little gal wouldn't have it no other way but for me to come," he said with more than a hint of pride. "Little Emma is the best daughter a man ever had, Preacher. And I thank the good Lord every day for returning her to me."

}Reverend Bruder cleared his throat nervously and gave the barest nod of acknowledgment in Emma's direction.

}For her part, Emma seemed as ill at ease as the preacher. When Dr. Foote joined the three it seemed nearly a godsend.

}"Mr. Dix." Doc Odie hailed the frail man in the chair first. "It's good to see you outside for a change."

}"The weather's perfect." The reverend looked up at the blue sky.

}Doc Odie nodded in tacit agreement. "There's some thunderheads building up north," he said, gesturing to some dark clouds on the distant horizon. "But the wind's blowing them to the east, so they may miss us. As long as the sun shines, it'll be right good for your health to get a breath of fresh air."

}The old man nodded. "My Emma, she brought me," he told the doctor in a quavering voice.

}Doc Odie smiled easily at Emma before turning his attention once more to her father. "You are a lucky man indeed, Willie Dix," he said. "Not only do you have a devoted and bright daughter, but a competent nurse." He raised his eyebrows in a warm, friendly smile. "And a pretty one to boot," he whispered.

}Willie laughed out loud. It was a pleasant, joyful sound that had been missing from community gatherings for the past few years.

}"My Emma is the image of her dear mother," Dix told the doctor proudly. "But truth be told, I'm not too modest to say the girl got her good sense from me."

}The gentlemen made the suitable replies. Emma, however, still stood somewhat to the side.

}Finally, Odie Foote changed the subject.

}"Preacher, I've just come from your house," he said. "I was thinking to escort Miss Tulsa May, as a friend of course, to show that there are no hard feelings. But I guess you and Mrs. Bruder already brought her."

}Reverend Bruder puffed up slightly with what could only be the sin of pride. "No, I didn't bring her at all. Tulsa May seems to have cast her interest in another direction these days."

}"Another direction?" Doc Odie was clearly puzzled.

}"She has a new gentleman caller," the preacher stated baldly.

}Doc Odie stared at Reverend Bruder as if the older man had lost his mind.

}The reverend's smile could have been considered triumphant. "Why don't I push Willie around the grounds?" he said to Emma. "I know everyone will be wanting to see and talk to him."

}"That's a wonderful idea, Philemon." Willie turned to his daughter and gave her a warm smile and a small wave. "You don't need to be spending such a pretty day with me, Emma. Just go have some fun with the other young people, and don't give your worn-out old daddy another thought."

}Without another word, Reverend Bruder grasped the push handles on the chair and began to move away from Emma and the doctor.

}As Emma stared after them, her stance gradually changed from anxious to defiant.

}"That preacher's sure got it in for me," she said to Doc Odie. "I swear if he were any more disapproving I'd be wearing a scarlet
A
on my chest."

}The doctor, who'd been staring after the two of them, was nearly startled back into the conversation.

}"What? Oh, pay him no mind, Emma. He doesn't really know you. And after that awful engagement concert fiasco, he's not overly fond of me either."

}Smiling at the doctor, Emma was secretly grateful for the opportunity to find a partner in crime.

}"Who in the world could be Tulsa May's new gentleman caller?" Doc Odie asked, clearly caught up in his own concerns.

}Emma shrugged. "It could be anyone."

}Doc Odie looked doubtful. "Not anyone in this town."

}Shaking her finger at him, Emma scolded. "Now Doc Odie, Tulsa May is sort of pretty in her own way. And she's very sweet."

}The doctor nodded. "You are kind, Emma," he said. "Tulsa May is the type of woman a fellow can relax with, settle down with. But 'pretty' is a far cry from that woman's looks."

}"Well, maybe 'comely' is a better word for her. She draws people to her."

}"It's that all-fired optimism of hers," Doc Odie replied. "I tell her all the time that she talks sunnier than a socialist and just as foolish."

}Hearing Emma's deep throaty laugh, Dr. Foote smiled broadly and then offered his arm. "Your father wants you to relax and spend some time with the young people," he reminded her. "I'm not all that young, but I can be a passable escort."

}With a polite nod of acceptance, Emma laid her hand on his tweed-covered sleeve and walked beside him into the crowded booth area. If people were surprised to see Emma on the doc's arm, nobody commented.

}Emma held her head high and smiled. In her heart she imagined that she was young again, not so much in years as in experience. She imagined that she was once more the prettiest girl in Prattville. She imagined that she was still innocent and giggly. That she'd never met Fremont Batemen. Never fallen in love with him. Never run off to marry him. She imagined that she was once again young enough not to know how a married man could lure a foolish girl into a lifetime of sin.

}Maybelle Penny passed in front of the couple, flanked by two spiffed-up young men and leading half a dozen others. She did not deign to glance toward either. Still, Emma couldn't help but smile at the pretty young girl in the new spring dress. She had once been much like her.

}Maybelle stopped in front of a crowded, noisy corner booth. Her entire entourage gathered around her, obstructing all other movement in the booth area.

}"Well, if it isn't Sitting Bull himself." Maybelle's voice rang out. "What are you doing? Praying for the return of the buffalo?"

}Arthel Briggs looked up from the crank on the ice-cream bucket he was turning. His eyes were as brown as chestnuts, and his cheekbones were high and sharp. His thick, almost blue-black hair was parted directly down the middle and grew a little long on the sides, the style enhancing the remnants of his Indian heritage. He was quiet, calm, controlled. Leisurely, he allowed his eyes to wander from white kid toetips to blond topknot. "Oh hello, Maybelle," he said finally.

}"Put you to work, did they?" young Rossie Crenshaw asked.

}Arthel's expression broadened into a smile. "They were just looking for the fellow with the strongest muscles."

}There was a rumble of conversation and brags among Maybelle's male contingent, before Rossie stepped over the low-hanging rope that separated the area. Rolling up his sleeves, he eagerly went to take Arthel's place. "Let a real man put his back into it."

}"Wonderful, where can we find one?" Eustace Maitland asked sarcastically.

}Arthel walked over to the rope near the far side and wiped his damp palms on a ragged cotton towel. He glanced up and saw Dr. Foote and Emma, to whom he nodded in acknowledgment.

}Emma stiffened as if she had expected Arthel to wink suggestively at her or make an off-color comment. He did neither.

}"What kind of ice cream are you making?" Doc Odie asked.

}"Mostly apricot," he said. "Mrs. Wyse gave us some of last year's preserves to mix in. They were pretty brown, but I suspect it will be tasting all right."

}"How long have you been cranking?"

}Arthel shrugged. "Quarter of an hour, not longer. We'll have something to serve pretty soon."

}"Well, Cochise," Maybelle interrupted as she moved to his side. "I think you and me should have a powwow. I just saw the funniest thing in my life and I have to find out the whole truth right this minute."

}Arthel looked down at the pretty, petite blonde at his side. Part of him saw the childhood pest that used to follow him around like a shadow. But another part, a part he was not yet willing to acknowledge, saw a beautiful young woman in the perfect blossom of youth. Maybelle Penny gave him a sweet smile and dimpled prettily. Arthel was expressionless.

}She gave a half-glance at Emma and a flirty little wave to the doctor before launching into her wide-eyed, gigglingly told tale.

}All three listened with rapt attention.

}"—so he said that the gloves were for a special woman he was calling on," Maybelle explained midway through her story. "And I swear on a stack of Bibles I saw Tulsa May Bruder wearing those very same gloves this afternoon."

}There was a long silent pause.

}"Yes, so?" Arthel said.

}"So?" Maybelle practically squealed. "So, who was the special girl he was calling on? And why didn't she accept the gloves?"

}Arthel's stone-faced visage broke momentarily as he stared at Maybelle.

}"What makes you think that the special girl didn't accept them?"

}"If she had, then Tulsa May wouldn't have them."

}With a loud pop, Arthel slapped the towel with more force than necessary. Shaking his head, he spoke to Maybelle as if she didn't quite have good sense. "Tulsa May
is
the special girl."

}"What!" The exclamation was a chorus. Maybelle, Emma, and Doc Odie stared at Arthel in disbelief.

}Chapter 5

}Just before noon the political speeches began. Luther joked to Tulsa May that he did not believe this to be a very clever organization of the agenda since listening to Oklahoma politicians had caused more than one stalwart citizen to lose his lunch.

}He and Tulsa May stood at some distance from the speaker's platform, but had no trouble hearing. They had spent most of the morning eating and had no appetite for lunch, but Luther did manage to get a heavily laden tin of apricot ice cream. With a couple of makeshift wooden paddles for spoons, the two shared the treat.

}Tulsa May's prize for catching the brass ring was a bright red feather that now stuck jauntily out of her straw hat, though it clashed vividly with her bright orange hair.