Texas Born (30 page)

'It seems impossible.'

'I know. If I hadn't seen it myself, I
wouldn't have believed it either.' Jenny got the blanket out of the
buggy and flapped it out over the ground. 'Are you hungry yet?' she
called over her shoulder as she set the picnic basket down.

'I can wait.'

'Good. I can too.' She got down on her knees
and smoothed the blanket out.

They sat down, hugged their knees, and looked
over into Mexico. The afternoon was hot and lazy, and after a while
they lay back, absorbing the sun. Jenny sighed contentedly. She
crossed her arms behind her head. 'Where are you from originally?'
she asked in an offhand voice.

He opened one eye. 'Oh, all over,' he replied
vaguely. 'I travel a lot.'

'That's what I always wanted to do,' she said
wistfully. 'But I've never been further than Brownsville.' She
shifted and he turned slowly toward her as he felt a finger tracing
a line down his chest. Then she suddenly rolled toward him, knelt
over him, and clutched him tightly, her fingers digging into his
forearms. 'I think I'm in love with you,' she whispered
throatily.

He sat up straight. 'But . . . but you hardly
know me!' he sputtered.

She flung her arms around his neck. 'That
doesn't matter. Oh, Zaccheus, Zaccheus! I just
know
we're
made for each other!'

He studied her face in the sunlight. She
wasn't half as pretty out in the stark, unforgiving sunshine as she
was indoors, he realized suddenly. Her skin wasn't as smooth and
her eyes had a harder, more calculating glint. Still, she was
pretty enough, but something about her frightened him. Perhaps it
was that she was so brazenly forward.

He could feel her drawing closer toward him
until her body was pressed against his. Gently he took her by the
wrists and pushed her away from him. He got to his feet. 'I think,'
he said slowly, 'it's time we headed back.''

Her narrowed eyes blazed for an instant. Then
she shrugged. 'All right,' she said simply. 'If that's what you
want.'

'That's what I want,' he said softy.

She got up and watched expressionlessly as he
gathered up the unopened picnic basket and blanket and tossed them
into the buggy. After he helped her up onto the seat, he went
around to untie the horse. Just as he was about to hop up beside
her, she suddenly smacked the reins as hard as she could and
yelled: 'Giddy-yap!'

Zaccheus jumped back as the horse took off.
For a long moment he just stood there, puzzled, one hand resting on
his hip, the other scratching his head thoughtfully. He stared
after the cloud of dust being kicked up by the receding horse and
buggy. '
'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
,' he quoted
aloud to himself. Then, resigning himself to the long walk back
into town, he took off his suit jacket and flung it over his
shoulder.

He shook his head sorrowfully. No matter
which way he turned, women always seemed to do him dirty. What was
it with him? Why did he seem only to attract the virulent and
spiteful ones?

Jenny hesitated outside the door of Elender's
bedroom and took a deep breath to fortify herself. The dim hallway
sconces cast shadows across her face. The generous pink slash that
was her mouth drew back over her teeth as she smiled. Then she
rapped decisively.

'Come in,' Elender called out clearly. She
was sitting in front of her dressing-table mirror, brushing out her
hair in the glow of two lamps.

The door opened silently and Jenny slipped
into the room. 'Auntie . . .' she said tentatively.

'Yes, dear. Did you have a nice picnic?'

'I. . . I have a confession to make, Auntie,'
Jenny blurted out in a thin, reedy voice.

Elender stopped brushing her hair and peered
at Jenny's reflection in the mirror. 'Yes . . .'

Jenny clenched her hands at her sides. 'Mr.
Hale went with me on the picnic this afternoon.'

'Oh? I thought you specifically told me you
were going with Laurenda.'

Jenny bit down on her lip. 'I was, really I
was. But she couldn't go at the last minute.'

'I see. And you asked Mr. Hale instead,'
Elender guessed shrewdly, 'after I told you repeatedly that you are
not to see any man unescorted unless you have my express permission
to do so.'

'Oh, no, Auntie!' Jenny cried quickly. 'It
was nothing like that! Honestly! He asked me to go for a walk with
him, and since the picnic basket was already all packed, I thought
. . . well . . .' Her voice trailed off.

'Well, what?' Elender prodded.

'Auntie,' Jenny began in a tiny voice, then
trembled and hugged herself with her arms. 'It was horrible!
Horrible!
He . . . he tried to kiss me! He . . . he put his
arms around me and felt—'

Elender dropped the hairbrush and it fell on
the dressing table with a clatter. She spun around on the stool and
faced Jenny, her eyes glittering darkly. 'If— and I use that word
very judiciously, Jennifer Sue Clowney—if indeed Mr. Hale tried to
kiss you, well . . . I doubt that he's to blame. You are. As far as
I can see, he's a perfect gentleman. You did not have my permission
to go on a picnic with him. And worse yet, you've been throwing
yourself at him in the most disgusting, unladylike manner I've ever
seen. I don't know what's come over you, but let me warn you, young
lady.' She wagged a severe finger. 'I am not blind!'

Jenny's face burned scarlet.

'I suggest,' Elender continued quietly, 'that
you cease trying to throw yourself at Mr. Hale . . . and that goes
for any other man who happens by. One more problem like this and
I'll see to it that you never leave this house again!'

'I'm not a child anymore!' Jenny retaliated
in a truculent voice. 'I'm eighteen years old. You can't lock me
up!'

'We'll see.'

'I'll run away! You'll never find me!'

'Stop it!
' Elender shouted suddenly.
Then her voice dropped. 'Don't be so
childish
. '

'Maybe I wouldn't be so childish if you
stopped treating me like one.'

Elender sighed wearily. 'We'll talk about
that some other time, Jenny, when we aren't so hot under the
collar. For the time being, off you go to bed. You've a long day
ahead of you tomorrow.'

Jenny looked at her quizzically. 'I do?'

'You do.' Elender tightened her lips. 'Since
you blatantly disobeyed me, you'll serve both the lunch and supper
shifts tomorrow. And every day for the next fourteen days.'

Jenny's jaw dropped. 'But, Auntie!'

'This way,' Elender said in a chill voice,
'you'll have no choice but to stay out of trouble. Good night.'

There was no doubt that Jenny was dismissed.
She mumbled something under her breath.

'What's that?' Elender said sharply.

'I said good night, Auntie.' Jenny slipped
glumly out of the room.

When she was gone, Elender turned back toward
the mirror and picked up the hairbrush. Slowly she resumed brushing
her hair, staring at her reflection but not seeing it.

The girls have changed, she caught herself
thinking sadly, and then frowned. No, they were not girls any
longer. They were women. Jenny was eighteen and Elizabeth-Anne was
two years younger, but they both stood on the very same threshold.
How much longer would either of them—especially Jenny—listen to the
voices of those who were older and, presumably, wiser? Not, when it
came down to it, she thought bleakly, that she was any wiser than
Jenny. Her own past, indeed Jenny herself—her flesh and blood which
she dared not embrace publicly or even privately—proved that. She
could not be, for much longer, the arbiter of Jenny's and
Elizabeth-Anne's social lives, hearts, and futures. She could try
to guide them a little longer, nudging them in the direction she
thought best, but she knew full and well that that time was finite,
that the end of her influence was fast drawing near. A young
woman's heart was, after all, a very delicate thing: no rhyme or
reason could sway it.

It was then that she heard other knocks, this
time on the parlor door down the hall. Slowly she lifted her head,
then got up, pulled on her embroidered robe, and went out into the
parlor. She opened the door. 'Mr. Hale!' she said with
surprise.

Zaccheus held his boater against his chest.
'I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Clowney,' he said in embarrassment.
'Especially at this late hour. But I was hoping we might talk for a
moment.'

'You're no bother at all. Do come in.' She
led the way into the small parlor. 'Have a seat, Mr. Hale.' She
watched as he sat down on the settee; she took a seat on one of the
tufted chairs. 'Now,' she said. 'What can I do for you?'

Zaccheus cleared his throat. 'It's about your
niece, ma'am. Miss Jennifer.'

A veil seemed to drop down over Elender's
eyes. 'Yes?'

'She asked me to go on a picnic with her this
afternoon.'

'I know that.'

He nodded. 'Miss Clowney, I don't know if
it's my place to say this, but . . .' He tightened his lips and
studied his folded hands.

'She tried to make advances at you?'

It was his turn to look surprised. 'How did
you know?'

'I could see it coming. Jenny is very brazen.
You see, for her, life here is very dull. You must excuse her, Mr.
Hale. I assume you behaved as a gentleman.'

He nodded and smiled bleakly.

'Thank you for telling me,' she said warmly.
'Now, I think we'd better forget this unfortunate incident.'

'Miss Clowney?' 'Yes?'

'There's . . . something else.' 'And that
would be . . .'

'Your other niece, Miss Clowney. I was
wondering if I could have your permission to take her to see a
picture show at the nickelodeon?'

'Elizabeth-Anne? Why, how wonderful!' Elender
clapped her hands together and beamed with pleasure. 'You don't
know what a world of good that would do her! She's had such an
unfortunate, painful life, you know.'

'I guessed that.' He paused. 'I was also
wondering why she . . . why she wears gloves all the time.'

'You must keep this between you and me, Mr.
Hale.'

'I won't tell a soul,' he promised
solemnly

'I'm sure you won't. You see, Mr. Hale, when
she was very, very young and impressionable, she saw her parents
burned to death in a tragic fire. Her own hands were terribly
scarred. Even now that they are healed, she cannot bear looking at
them.'

He eyed her sadly. ' 'I will never let on
that you told me.

'I appreciate that.' Elender got up from the
chair and he rose also. 'Good night, Mr. Hale. '

'Good night, Miss Clowney.'

Elizabeth-Anne gazed at herself critically in
the mirror and stood there frowning while she adjusted her
dress.

Her body was rigid and she held her hands
stiffly at her sides. What she saw in the mirror did nothing to
inspire her. She let out a painful, high-pitched little moan.

He's going to laugh at me
, she thought
miserably over and over.
Or worse yet, he's not going to show up
at all. Oh, God, why didn't I just turn him down? And to think of
all the trouble Auntie's gone through to try to make this perfect
for me. She's done my hair, and taken in this dress so that it fits
to perfection. But it's all wasted. Nothing is enough. I don't look
good and I don't feel good. Perhaps I'm forever doomed to
spinsterhood.

She scowled at her reflection. The white
cotton dress with its twin rows of white-fabric-covered buttons
tracing two lines from her collar down to her calves; the long
puffy sleeves, buttoned tightly at the wrists; her tiny waist,
accentuated by the cut of the dress; the wide-brimmed straw hat on
her head, its crown wrapped in white ribbons that flowed down her
back; the white boots Auntie had lent her and which pinched her
toes slightly ('Thank goodness we've the same size feet,' Elender
had said)—to Elizabeth-Anne it seemed like a costume. She just
wasn't used to dressing up so fancy. Nor was she used to the new
hairdo; her wheat-gold hair was fluffed up and pinned in place and
made her head look so much larger, especially with the new hat.
Somehow it gave her an air of maturity which she found
frightening.

When she heard the muted knocks on the door
down the hall, a band of fear suddenly constricted her chest.
He
was here already!
Oh, God!
Quickly she snapped the
bedroom door shut and glanced around desperately, as if
contemplating escape as she heard Elender's brisk footsteps passing
her door. But there was no escape.

She was trapped.

Hearing muffled voices, she took a deep
breath and held it in her lungs as she heard the footsteps passing
her door. Then she slowly let out her breath again. She could hear
more conversation, then Elender's musical laughter and the clinking
of a glass.

I can't even move!
she moaned
desperately to herself
. My feet feel like they 're encased in
lead. Oh, God, why can't the floor just open and swallow me up? Why
can't I be dead?

She heard Elender's footsteps again, and then
a soft knock came on her door. As Elender pushed it open, she
exclaimed, 'You look lovely!'

'No, I don't!' Elizabeth-Anne countered
fretfully.

Elender frowned suddenly. 'Oh!' she
exclaimed.

'What is it?'

Quickly Elender slipped into the room and
shut the door behind her. Deftly she began unbuttoning the front of
Elizabeth-Anne's dress.

Elizabeth-Anne looked down at herself. In her
nervousness, she hadn't even noticed the collar buckling; she'd
missed a buttonhole, and all twenty buttons down to her calves were
fastened wrong. 'I'm so nervous, Auntie! Can't I just call it
off?'

'Keep still, please.'

'Can't I plead ill or something?'
Elizabeth-Anne added quickly, 'I
am
ill, you know. My
stomach is all tied up in knots, and I've been running to the
bathroom—'