Song of the Road (38 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Garlock

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Adult, #Historical, #Western, #American, #Frontier and Pioneer Life, #2000s

BOOK: Song of the Road
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The other man was older, calmer. His clothes were neat and of good quality, his face clean-shaven. He wore tan cord pants and highly polished boots. In town he would be taken for a lawyer or a banker.

“Did you find the shack?” Lon asked after they were seated at the table.

“Yeah.”

“The motor court?”

“Yeah.”

“See the pregnant cow?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, dammit, can’t ya say anything but ‘yeah’?”

“Yeah.” The young man grinned, showing overlapping front teeth.

“Goddammit!” Lon got to his feet.

“Calm down. Wyn’s a smart-mouthed kid. You knew that.”

“Why do ya put up with him?”

The older man’s eyes turned cold. “State your terms.”

“All right.” Lon sat down. “Kill the woman — soon. The kid will be born anytime now. Take her to the shack out on the Pecos and kill her. I want it to look like someone came in off the highway and took her. Something like that happened over near Tucumcari last summer. Leave her in the shack. I’ll go out in a week or two and burn it down.”

“We can get rid of her without haulin’ her way out there,” Wyn grumbled.

“No,” Lon said firmly. “I want to see her. I’ve got to be sure she’s dead.”

“He don’t trust us, Lyle.” Wyn snickered and fanned the cards.

“I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty now,” Lon said, ignoring the kid. “When I’ve proof she’s dead, another two fifty.”

“Five hundred dollars for a woman and a kid. Shit! We’ve been paid five hundred for a worn-out old cowpoke.”

“Lyle . . .” Wyn was dealing cards. “I’ve never killed a woman. He’ll have to pay more.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” Lyle gently dismissed Wyn’s protest and focused on Lon. “A thousand.”

“I don’t have a thousand . . . now. I will later.”

“How much later?”

“Six months.”

“No deal.”

“I can give you seven fifty. Four hundred now and three fifty when the job is done.”

Lyle looked at Wyn, then nodded. “A deal.”

“I might have another job for you.”

“We only take on one job at a time.”

Wyn snickered. “Didn’t I tell ya I’d get ya a man who knew what he was doin’? Didn’t I tell ya that?”

“You sure as hell bungled the job when I sent you over to push her down the stairs.”

“Hell, it was worth a try. How’d I know she wouldn’t fall?” Wyn shuffled the deck.

Lon turned his attention back to Lyle. “Ten days after the word is out that she’s missin’, I’ll meet you at noon at the post office in Santa Rosa with the rest of the money.” He began to feel uneasy. He was with a couple of really dangerous men.

“If you’re not there, we know where you are. Get the money.”

“Wait for me by that dead tree behind the corral. I’m not fool enough to let anyone see where I keep my money.”

Lyle nodded. “Can’t blame ya for that.”

Wyn threw his cards on the table and stood. “Hell, I had a good hand.”

 

Chapter 27

M
ARY
L
EE, ALONE IN THE KITCHEN
, took the calendar from the wall, placed it on the table and carefully counted the days. If she had figured right, the birth of her baby was less than three weeks away. The doctor had told her that she might have the baby a few days before or a few days after the due date.

She needed to find out how much time she would have before she had to vacate after the banker demanded his money on the first day of October. If she couldn’t pay in full, would she be granted a few days’ grace, or could he demand that she leave immediately? If that was the case, her baby would be only two days old if he came on time. How could she leave? Where would she go?

Each evening while she sat in the living room waiting for travelers to come off the road, she crocheted booties and caps out of the yarn she had unraveled from a shawl. In her mother’s room she had found several things that she could use besides the shawl. One of them was a soft blanket. It would serve to line the dresser drawer she would use as a crib for the baby.

It had been a week since her mother died. Jake now came to the house only for breakfast and supper. Several times she had turned to find his eyes on her. He always looked away quickly. In the evening he sat on the washhouse steps with Eli or went to town.

In the middle of the week Deke had carried several grocery sacks to the kitchen. She had been in the washhouse and just happened to look out the door. Trudy was careful to have whatever he brought put away by the time she came to the house.

Mary Lee was completely miserable, not only in body but in heart. She felt as big as an elephant and . . . ugly as dirt. Her back ached; her ankles were swollen; her breasts were sore. She was on the verge of tears all the time. It was no wonder that Jake avoided her. He had spent all day Sunday away from the motor court. Trudy and Deke had gone to Ruby’s after the cabins were cleaned, and Eli was enthralled with listening to the radio. It had been a long, miserable day for Mary Lee.

Now, on Monday afternoon, her spirits were at their lowest. Eli and Trudy were doing the daily cleaning; the wash was flapping on the line. Mary Lee sat down at the table, put her head on her folded arms and gave in to a storm of weeping. She had held the tears in for so long that now they seemed unstoppable. After a few minutes she lifted her head and dried her eyes on the handkerchief she pulled from the pocket of her daddy’s old, faded shirt.

Stupid girl! That didn’t change a thing.

She was at the sink sluicing water on her face when she heard a car drive in. After blotting her face with a towel and smoothing down her hair, she went to the front door. Mr. Morales was coming up the steps to the porch.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Clawson. Warm day for September.”

“Yes, it is. Come in, Mr. Morales. You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve . . . been working.”

“I should have called and told you that I was coming.” “Had you done so, it would have been quite remarkable as we don’t have a phone.” Mary Lee smiled. “I’m glad you’ve come. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. If you don’t mind sitting in the kitchen, I’ll fix you a glass of tea.”

“A glass of tea would go down real good.”

Mary Lee was glad that the kitchen was as clean and neat as they could make it. She chipped ice for two glasses, then poured from the pitcher of tea.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Clawson?”

“Call me Mary Lee, please. I’m doing fine. Just fine.”

“That’s good. My, this tea hits the spot.” Mr. Morales took papers from the inside pocket of his coat. “Did you know that Scott had taken out an insurance policy on his wife?”

“No. He never mentioned it.”

“He took one out on himself too. A burial policy that I turned over to Mrs. Finley a few days after his passing.” He fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a fountain pen. “As soon as I heard that Mrs. Finley had passed on, I notified the company. They sent me a check for three hundred and fifty dollars and these papers for you to sign. I cashed the check.”

From another pocket the lawyer pulled out a stack of bills, and to Mary Lee’s astonishment, he counted out three piles of one hundred dollars and laid a fifty-dollar bill beside them.

She was stunned and couldn’t speak for a long moment.

“You mean . . . you mean that this is for . . . me?”

“It certainly is. You’re the beneficiary.”

“I . . . can’t believe this. You can’t know what —” Her throat clogged; tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I think I do, my dear.”

“I can pay Mr. Rosen, can’t I? I . . . won’t have to give up the motor court! Please, tell me it’s true. There’s no mistake?”

“No mistake. Now, read the letter. I’ve made two copies so you can keep one. It says I have performed my duties and passed the money on to you. If you will sign, I’ll be on my way.” He uncapped the pen.

Her hands were shaking when she signed her name. She stood when he did and took his hand in both of hers.

“Thank you. I hoped and prayed that there would be a way for me to pay Mr. Rosen; I just never dreamed that my prayers would be answered.”

“Well, they were. Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“I was going to ask you if you knew anyone who needed a housekeeper. But I won’t need to find a job now.”

“From the looks of the court, you’re doing a mighty fine job right here.”

“Thank you. I can hardly wait to march up to the bank and wave this money under Mr. Rosen’s nose.”

“There will be an interest charge. I don’t know how much because I never saw the contract between Scott and the bank. But it shouldn’t be over twenty-five or thirty dollars. If it’s more than that, tell him you’ll see your lawyer.”

“I will. Oh, I will, Mr. Morales.” She was reluctant to turn loose of his hand and held it while they walked to the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Mary Lee. Take care of yourself now.”

As Morales was getting in his car, Eli came running up from the last cabin. Trudy was behind him.

“Who was that?” Eli demanded, even as Mary Lee was waving.

A breathless Trudy stopped at the porch step.

“Eli ’bout scared me to death when he yelled that a man was in the house. I didn’t know it was Mr. Morales until I was almost here.”

“The most wonderful thing —I can’t believe it — it’s a miracle.”
Oh, Daddy, bless you, bless you!

Mary Lee led the way to the kitchen and sank down in a chair in front of the stack of bills.

“Holy shit!” Eli exclaimed, and Mary Lee didn’t even think to correct him. “Where’d all this come from?”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars. Daddy had insurance on Mama.” Relief had washed the worry and unhappiness from Mary Lee’s face. She couldn’t keep from smiling.

“Well, dog my cats!” Trudy exclaimed.

“Does this mean you can pay off old Tight-ass?”

“Eli!” Mary Lee giggled. “He is one, isn’t he? We’ll pay off the loan. We can stay here, Eli.” Mary Lee got up and hugged him. “You can go to school. You’ll live here in the house with me. Trudy, you can come and work days; I know you want to be home at night.”

“She’ll marry Deke and go to Oklahoma if he asks her.” “You ornery little warthog! What gave you that idea?” Trudy hit him on the shoulder.

“See there,” Eli teased. “You just mention Deke and she gets all red ’n’ flustered.”

“Stop teasing her and get our money jar. Let’s see how much we have. We’ve got to celebrate. Can you stir up a cake, Trudy? Eli can go to the store and get a chicken, one that’s already dressed. We’ll be extravagant for once. We’ll make chicken pie with biscuits.”

“Jake’s favorite,” Trudy said.

“Well, yes, I guess it is. Is the work done?”

“Yup,” Eli said. “Except for taking the sheets off the line.”

“Can I make a chocolate cake?” Trudy opened the upper cabinet doors. “Reach up and get that cocoa, Eli.”

“Deke’s favorite,” he grumbled, and lifted down the can. “What about my favorite?”

“You’re my favorite.” Mary Lee kissed him on the cheek. “Scoot, now. Get back so you can take care of the travelers while Trudy and I work on the supper.”

When it was nearly dark, Mary Lee and Trudy had the table ready; yellow tiger lilies in a fruit jar sat in the middle of it. The chicken pie bubbled in the oven; the two-layer chocolate cake sat on the cabinet.

They had just changed into fresh clothes and tied ribbons in their hair when Mary Lee heard the familiar sound of Jake’s truck going past the house, in between the cabins and alongside the washhouse, where he had parked since moving into cabin number one.

Anxious to share her happy news with Jake, Mary Lee ran out the back door, down the steps and across the yard as Jake was getting out of the truck. Alarmed to see her running, he hurried toward her.

“Jake! Jake, guess what?”

“What?” He caught her in his arms and scolded. “You shouldn’t run. You could fall.”

“I’ve got the money! Know what that means?” Her face was radiant. “I can stay here.” Her arms encircled his waist. “Mr. Morales came. Daddy had insurance on Mama — three hundred and fifty dollars. I can pay the loan. I couldn’t wait to tell you . . .”

“I’m glad,
mi tesoro.
So very glad.” He closed his eyes and hugged her as close as he dared. With his lips against her ear, he whispered, “My treasure.”

“I was going to try to get a housekeeping job so I could have the baby and Eli with me —”

“You can take care of your baby right here.”

“Isn’t it grand?” She leaned back and looked up into his face. “We’re celebrating tonight. Chicken and biscuits. Your favorite.”

“That sounds mighty good,” he said huskily.

“And cake.”

“Hey, now, this
is
a celebration.” He smiled down at her, his eyes devouring her beaming face.

“I’m so relieved. I just didn’t know what in the world I was going to do.”

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