The Unplowed Sky (32 page)

There was more in this vein, with half the page given over to Raford's election and what he meant to accomplish in the legislature. Hallie opened the paper and looked for the name of the editor. He was a stranger. The address for subscriptions was Topeka, but the publisher was Quentin A. Raford.

She crumpled the paper and stuffed it into the stove. It blazed up, almost singeing her hair, but collapsed to fluttering bits of ash. She could only hope that Raford's influence would do the same.

The only good thing about his election was that once the legislature convened next year, he would spend most of his time in Topeka. Hallie hoped devoutly that he would move there and take Cotton with him. For the first week or so after the men left, she kept the doors locked even in the day and was unutterably grateful for the heavy curtains. When it began to seem that Raford was going to leave her in peace, she locked only the kitchen door at night, though if she heard a vehicle turn down the lane, she hurried to turn the key and didn't unlock it till Donnelly's flivver rattled into the yard, as it did several times a week.

Mary and Mike brought Meg news of her schoolmates and visited with Hallie, letting their girls play with Jackie for a while. When they stopped on the way to town for Hallie's grocery list, they always brought a jug of milk and some butter, a wonderful change from evaporated milk and margarine. Apart from mail, these drop-ins were almost the only contact the strange little household had with the outside world. Hallie always had gingerbread, cookies, or some other treat on hand.

“I can't tell you how much I appreciate your coming by,” she told Mary one afternoon while Mike was playing bear with the shrieking children. “It would get so lonesome—”

Mary squeezed her hand. “You don't have to tell me, dear. We got hailed out two years in a row, and Mike had to work the broomcorn harvest to keep us from going broke. I was alone with the babies. One fall they got whooping cough. Next fall it was measles. Mike didn't get home till Christmas. You bet I understand.”

It must have been scary with the babies sick, Hallie thought. I guess I'd better be grateful—and I am—that Jackie and Meg have kept well. But Mike was yours; you knew he'd come back and someday, with luck, he'd never have to be away from you another night. If Garth were my husband, or if I knew he would be someday, I think I could stand this better.

The Halsteads stopped once to leave some apples from their small orchard, and Mr. Crutchfield dropped off a stack of old
National Geographics
for Meg, but the Donnellys were Hallie's salvation as autumn faded into winter and Thanksgiving loomed.

“I can't be very thankful when I still can't walk and with Daddy away,” Meg grumbled one day as Hallie massaged her legs. “You might as well quit this—”

“I won't,” said Hallie. “It's all we know to do. So we'll do it.”

The glumness lifted at a proposal of the Donnellys. “Why don't we have Thanksgiving here?” Mary suggested. “We'll bring a stuffed chicken and cranberry sauce and—”

“That'll be plenty.” Hallie glowed. A festive holiday for the children after all—and for her, too. “I'll make pumpkin and mince pies and rolls and an applesauce spice cake.”

“And I'll bring piccalilli, and chowchow, and some of my sweet pickled peaches, and green tomato relish,” Mary added. “And some thick cream to whip, and fresh butter.”

It was agreed that the Donnellys would come before noon; so, deep in her baking, when Hallie heard a motor approaching, she thought they were arriving a little early. She hurried to finish the lattice crust of the second mince pie, popped it in the oven, and wiped her hands on her apron as she went out on the porch to greet them.

Instead of the Donnelly's old Model T, an elegant silver Cadillac was parked near the house. And instead of laughing red-haired Donnellys, a woman in a sealskin coat and matching cloche and muff was coming up the steps.

“Felicity!”

“Aren't you going to ask me in?” asked the woman who had been Hallie's stepmother. Blond bangs curved artfully from beneath the cloche. Her eyebrows were slim, surprised pencil lines, and her eyelashes were thick with mascara. “Don't just stand there with that stupid look on your face, Hallie. Where's Jackie?”

Hallie stayed in the door. “You haven't seemed to care about that these past six months!”

“Things are different now.” A tear caught on a painted lower lash and made a black runnel down the powdered cheek. “After all the years he waited, poor sweet Harry only had a few months with me. He died last month of heart failure.” She dabbed at her eyes. “At least he died in my arms. I tell myself that was a comfort to him.”

“I'm sorry. But I still don't see why you've come.”

Felicity stared. “I've come for Jackie, of course. Come for my baby.”

“He's not a baby.” Hallie's rising, smoldering anger erupted. “I can't believe you have so much nerve, Felicity! You threw him away. How do I know you won't do it again if you meet some man who doesn't want a child around?”

“Oh, that's all taken care of,” Felicity said eagerly. “Milford thinks it'll be wonderful to have a son who's already out of diapers and through the messy baby stage.”

“Who is Milford?” Hallie wondered whether she could believe her ears.

“Harry's cousin and business partner. The dearest, kindest man! Utterly devoted. All he wants to do is take care of me.”

“Has he waited for years, too?”

Felicity looked reproachful. “Of course not. I didn't meet him till after I married Harry.”

“I see. He waited a few months.”

Felicity crimsoned. “Shame on your nasty spiteful tongue, Hallie Meredith! Milford never said a word till on the way home from the funeral. He was trying to comfort me, and it all came out. He's never loved anyone before and had thought he would just suffer along, watching our happiness—”

“It's convenient. He won't have to hunt a new partner.”

“If you're implying—”

“I'm not implying anything.” Hallie pondered. “I really don't want to let you see Jackie at all, but in case he still loves you in spite of everything—”

“Certainly he loves me!” Pink spots overshadowed Felicity's rouge. “I'm his mother.”

“You gave him away!”

“Don't you have any heart? Any compassion?”

“More than you, I think.”

“I demand to see him!”

“I suppose you should.” Hallie stepped aside, but her gaze held Felicity's. “You'd better understand this, though. If Jackie wants to go with you, fine. But if he doesn't—”

“That's absurd! Of course he'll come with me.”

“Not if he doesn't want to.”

“The law—I have rights!”

Hallie shook her head. “With children you have responsibilities, not rights.”

Felicity's light blue eyes narrowed. “Any judge in the country would give him to me.”

“Maybe not. The MacReynoldses would testify that you left him. The people I worked with all summer know you never wrote or came to see him. You just—vanished.”

“I was still distraught from your father's death. I wasn't in a normal state of mind.”

“Maybe you aren't now, Maybe you're distraught over Harry's death.”

“I left Jackie with you, his own sister. I knew you'd take care of him.”

“I think it's called desertion. Maybe abandonment. I don't know what tale you told Milford, but he may not think too much of you if the whole story gets plastered all over the papers.”

“You've always hated me!”

“I did once. But that's not what this is all about. This is about what's best for Jackie.”

Felicity shot her a glance of pure hatred and sailed into the kitchen the instant Hallie opened the door. “Jackie, darling!” she cried, swooping down on him as he sat playing checkers with Meg. “Look, it's Mama!”

She kissed and embraced him, but he sat as if made of wood. When she moved back, he stared at her wonderingly. “You're not dead.”

“Of course not!” Her eyes shot daggers at Hallie. “Did your sister say that?”

“No. But you said you had to go somewhere to get well, somewhere I couldn't go.”

Felicity colored. “I did, honey. But I'm fine now.”

“I thought you had to be dead.” Jackie's simplicity was terrible. “You didn't write to me. Luke does. Shaft does.”

His mother's blush deepened. “I wanted to, angel, but I thought it would just make you miss me more.”

“I thought you were dead, like Daddy.”

“You can see I'm not, you funny little bunny!” Felicity's attempt at gay laughter sounded brittle. “And I'm well now and have a beautiful home for you. There's a basement where you can have an electric train with a town and farms and an e-normous yard with big trees where you could keep a pony.”

“A pony?”

“That's right.” Felicity sent Hallie a smug look. “You can pick him out, Jackie, and give him his name and take care of him.”

“You gave me my name, Mama. But you—you didn't take care of me!” Some of the baffled anguish Jackie must have felt when his mother left sounded in his voice, showed in his eyes and quivering lips. “Hallie did.”

“Yes, I know how she dragged you all over the country with a threshing crew!” Felicity shuddered. “All that dangerous machinery! It's a wonder you weren't killed.” For the first time, she acknowledged Meg's existence with a wave of her hand. “Or you could have been crippled like your poor little friend here!”

“I'm not poor!” Meg's eyes flashed. “And I'm going to walk again!”

“I do hope so, my dear.” Felicity's tone was placating, but Meg swept on.

“We take care of Jackie! We all do. Laird won't let a rattlesnake get near him. Shaft's just like his grandfather, and I—I wish he was my brother!” Grudgingly, she added, “He
is
Hallie's brother. So, Mrs.—whoever you are—I think Jackie's better off with us than you.”

“You impudent girl! I'm his mother!”

Meg gave a short bitter laugh. “That doesn't mean much unless you live it. My mother left me when I was four, and Daddy was in the war—it started quite a while before the Americans joined in, you know. I cried a lot then. I missed her something awful. That's about the earliest thing I remember, asking Gran when she was coming back.” Meg's face hardened. The contempt in her voice was so savage that Hallie winced for Felicity. “Do you want to know something, lady?”

“Not particularly.” Felicity adopted a superior air. “I'm sorry about your bad experience, but I
have
come back.” When no one spoke, she threw up her gloved hands. “For heaven's sake! It's only been six months!”

“I thought you were dead,” said Jackie.

“My mother did die,” Meg said. This was the first time Hallie had ever heard her mention her mother. Hallie had believed that Meg couldn't remember that loss, but clearly it had left a wound that still ached beneath the hard scar tissue. “She got tuberculosis. Someone in the Glasgow hospital where she died found Gran's address in her purse and wrote to us.” Felicity watched Meg as if hypnotized. “Do you think I cried?” Meg asked with derision that still echoed with pain. “Lady, I didn't cry a bit. I'd already done that. As far as I was concerned, my mother died when she left me.”

Jackie jumped up to hug Meg. “Oh, Meggie! Don't feel bad!”

“This isn't fair!” Felicity rounded on Hallie. “I haven't had a chance!”

Meg sobbed on Jackie's small sturdy shoulder. Maybe she hadn't cried when she learned of her mother's death, but she was crying now. Hallie wanted to comfort her, but knew Meg wouldn't accept her sympathy at this moment, maybe never. Anyway, Jackie seemed to be the person Meg needed. Probably she had never wept like this in front of her father.

Hallie drew Felicity into the front room, which was heated today for the gala. “I think you'd better go.” Felicity looked so dazed that Hallie felt a twinge of pity. “Listen. Jackie's made himself a new family. I doubt that he'll ever want to live with you again. He can't trust you. But you could make friends.”

“Friends!”

“That could be a lot better than nothing—for both of you.”

The red mouth twisted. “And how do I make
friends
with my only son?”

“Write to him. Send him presents. Maybe when he's older, he'd like to come stay with you for a month or so.” Felicity looked so appalled that Hallie searched for a way to make her understand. “You can be like his aunt.”

“While
you're
his mother, I suppose?”

“No. I can't be that. Until you left him with me, I wasn't really his sister. But I am now.”

“I've got his room ready. Milford helped me pick out a lot of new toys.”

“Maybe you can have a baby,” Hallie said though she hoped not, unless Milford was a steady man fated to live a long time. “Or you could adopt a child.”

Felicity caught Hallie's hands. “Let me take him home. I swear that if he's not settled down and happy within a month that I'll bring him back.”

“Ask him.”

“You know he'll say no, especially after that stupid girl's outburst.”

Hallie shrugged.

“What a Thanksgiving!” Felicity wailed. “It took Milford and me two days to drive to Hollister, and he's ordered a special dinner in our hotel suite. How am I going to tell him—”

“You'll think of something.”

Felicity cast her a furious look and rushed into the kitchen. Meg had quieted and was wiping her eyes. “Jackie!” Felicity cried. “Mama's leaving, Good-bye!”

He kept his eyes on the floor. “G'bye.”

“Don't you want to come with me?”

He put his hand in Meg's. “I want to stay here.”