BlackWind (6 page)

“A meal ticket?”

“Do you think everybody is as stupid as you are?” McGregor punched Sean in the chest with his index finger. “Don't you think I know what you're after?”

Sean stared into McGregor's eyes. “What is it you think I want, Doctor?”

“You want to continue seeing my daughter and that's not going to happen. I certainly would never allow someone like you to court her! Just the thought of you wanting to marry her makes my flesh crawl!”

Though he knew the hurt likely flickered across his face, Sean held his ground. “Does it matter that I love her and that—?”

“And that you want her daddy's money?”

“I don't want your money,” Sean replied through clenched teeth. “I will provide for us.”

“Oh, really?” McGregor drawled nastily. He jabbed his finger into Sean's chest again. “And just how the hell do you think you could ever provide for my daughter washing cars?”

Sean flinched, but didn't move back from the painful jab. “I won't always be washing cars, Dr. McDermott. I will be able to support us.”

“Doing what?” Dermot scoffed, his upper lip curled.

“I haven't decided yet, but—”

“You are nothing more than a shanty Irish con man, Cullen, and the chances are good you'll end up in a prison somewhere.”

Sean winced at the prediction. “I'm not that kind of man, Dr. McGregor, I—”

“Stay away from my daughter,” McGregor warned, his eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Because if you don't, I'll have you arrested.”

A muscle jumped in Sean's jaw. “On what charge?”

“Contributing to the delinquency of a minor. I have friends in law enforcement, and believe me when I tell you, I'll see they throw the book at you and keep you locked up for as long as possible!”

Sean stared into the enraged man's eyes. He could read the fury boiling in McGregor's mind and had no doubt that Bronnie's father would make good on his threat. The thought of being put into a cell, locked in, confined, brought sweat to his brow and nausea to the back of his throat. He ran a trembling hand across his mouth.

McGregor smiled brutally. “I think we understand one another, don't you?”

“I love her,” Sean said, ashamed that his voice broke on the words.

“How much?” McGregor asked as he pulled out his checkbook.

“I don't
want
your money.”

McGregor ignored him. He filled in the check, stripped it from the book, and extended it toward Sean. “Beggar's can't be choosers, you know. Take it. I think you'll find I've compensated you quite well for defending my daughter that time at St. Teresa's.”

Sean glanced at the check, but did not reach for it. He turned his back to Bronwyn's father and picked up the water hose.

“I'll mail it to you,” McGregor said, stepping back from the spray of water Sean directed at the automobile.

Sean did not reply. He plucked a sponge from a galvanized bucket near the car's fender and bent to the job of washing the hood.

“Remember what I told you, Cullen! Come near her again and I will go to the authorities!” McGregor waited a moment to see if his words would get a rise out of Sean. When they didn't, he shrugged, pocketed the check, and barely glanced at Andy and Zeke, who moved out of his way as he entered the shop.

Deirdre met her husband in the garage. She opened the car door for him. “Well?”

“I went to see him.”

“And?”

Dermot put his arm around her. “It's taken care of, DeeDee. We won't be having any more trouble from the Cullen boy.”

“Are you sure?”

A fierce gleam entered Dermot McGregor's eyes. “I'm damned sure!”

Bronwyn slipped out of the house and went to their neighbors, asking to use their phone. When Sean's mother answered, she debated whether to hang up and try again later.

“Who's there, please?” Mrs. Cullen inquired in her thick brogue.

“I...is Sean there?”

“He hasn't come home from work, yet. Is this Bronnie?”

Bronwyn swallowed. “Yes, Ma'am.”

“Would you like me to have him call you, dear?”

“No!” Bronwyn gasped. “I mean, I'm not at our house right now.”

There was a moment of silence. “I see. Is there something you would like me to tell him?”

“You know, don't you?” Bronwyn asked, tears forming in her eyes. “About my father going to see him?”

“Tym told me your Da stopped by the shop and was headed up to Griffin's. I take it he told Seannie he could not see you again.”

Bronwyn swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks. “I love him, Mrs. Cullen. I'm not going to ever stop loving him, so nothing my parents say makes any difference!”

“Ah, but it does, dear,” Dorrie sighed. “Until you're of age, you have to do what they say.”

“They can't stop me from loving him!”

“I'd imagine not, but they can cause my boy a heap of trouble. Do you want that?”

Bronwyn's whimper of guilt was all the answer she could give as her tears escalated into deep sobs.

“Bide your time, Bronnie,” Sean's mother advised. “Let ‘em think they've won. If you and Sean are meant to be together, you will be.”

Bronwyn listened to Dorrie Cullen's words of encouragement as she warned her son's girlfriend not to endanger Sean's freedom.

“I won't let them hurt Sean, Mrs. Cullen,” Bronwyn vied.

“I know you won't, dear. Now run home before your parents come looking for you. I'll tell Seannie we had a good long talk.”

“Tell him...tell him...” Bronwyn could barely get the words out, for her heart was breaking. “Tell him I love him.”

“I will do that.”

Bronwyn hung up and turned to see Mrs. Betty Turner, her neighbor, standing in the doorway.

“Good luck, Bronwyn,” Mrs. Turner said. “I know exactly how you feel and I wish you better luck than I had.”

“Did your parents dislike Mr. Turner, too?” Bronwyn asked, accepting the tissue the older woman held out to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

Mrs. Turner walked with her to the front door. “My daddy hated my boyfriend with a purple passion, Bronnie. He went to the base commander and had George reassigned to a base overseas.”

Bronwyn paused at the screen door. “You were in love with someone else?”

Mrs. Turner's lined face grew wistful. “His name was George Franklin and the sun rose and set in that boy for me.” She sighed. “I've often wondered what happened to him.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Betty.”

“So am I, dear,” Mrs. Turner said, her voice breaking.

“I won't let them keep us apart. Somehow, some way, Sean and I
will
be together!”

“From your mouth to God's ear. I would not want you to be as miserable as I've been all these years.”

As Bronwyn slipped into her parent's home and tiptoed silently down the hallway, she began to think of ways to thwart her parent's plan to tear her from Sean's life.

Andy Griffin stuffed his bandana into the pocket of his overalls and sat across from Sean at the picnic table by the storage shed. The young man's head was propped in his hands and he was staring at the scarred tabletop.

“Life can be a bitch sometimes, Seannie.”

“Why can't they just leave us alone?” From the sound of Sean's voice, the young man had been crying.

Andy sighed. “Well, it ain't in some people's polography to mind their own bee's wax, son.”

Sean looked up at the mangling of the word he knew should have been “prerogative.” Andy had a habit of mispronouncing certain words—he said “indentify” for “identify” and “confisticated” for “confiscated.” It was a habit that endeared him to Sean and he often found himself drawn to his boss, needing the father figure Andy seemed happy to provide.

“He told me to keep away from her,” Sean said.

“Reckon you might better do as he says,” Andy ventured. When Sean started to argue, Andy raised his hand. “For a while anyway. You don't want that gal to get in trouble with her daddy, now, do you?”

“We love each other, Mr. Andy.”

“Yep, but sometimes you have to bite the bullet, Sean, and be a man about these things. You ain't the only one who's ever been told to stay away from a woman, son.” He grinned. “When I was about your age, I had me a gal named Ludie.” He sighed wistfully. “Prettiest little critter this side of Hotlanta, lemme tell you.” He sighed again. “But she come from the wrong side of the tracks, you know what I mean?”

“Across the river,” Sean supplied.

Andy nodded. “Her pa ran shine for the Colter boys outta Miller County.” He shook his head. “That was one mean bunch, them Colter boys. Men who worked for them had to be just as mean to survive, and Willis Tyler was as mean as they come in southwest Georgia. He had fathered nine boys by the time Ludie came along. All his boys have spent time in prisons.” He chuckled. “The joke in that family is the Tylers has seen the inside of more penitentiaries than any other clan in the South.”

“Bad men.”

“Very bad men, son. But old man Tyler had one redeeming quality—he loved his daughter more'n he loved a good jar of moonshine and that was saying something, lemme tell ya!”

“He didn't approve of you?”

“Sure didn't. Said I come from a line of yellow-bellied grease monkeys and he wanted better for his baby girl. Said if I didn't leave her alone, he'd make me wish I'd never been born.”

“Did you do as he told you?”

Andy looked across Broad Avenue. “Yeah, I did. Sometimes I wish I hadn't, but I did.” He smiled crookedly. “I was jimmy crack-corn afraid of that old man and still am to this very day, though he's been in his grave nigh on twenty years.”

Sean lifted his foot to the picnic bench and tugged at the laces of his untied sneaker. “What happened to Miss Ludie?”

Andy drew in a long breath, then exhaled slowly. He lowered his head. “She went up to Augusta to live with one of her aunts. She married some engineer up there.”

“Do you ever think of her?”

“Every day of my life, son. Every single day of my life.” Andy gripped Sean's arm. “Don't let the same thing happen to you, Seannie. Don't you be sitting here a lifetime from now telling some wet-behind-the-ears kid how much you loved Bronwyn McGregor but weren't man enough to fight to keep her. Don't be a yellow-bellied grease money like me and lose the one woman who might have made you happy!”

“I'm not going to lose her. I won't let them keep me and Bronwyn apart, Mr. Andy,” Sean said forcefully as he finished tying his sneaker. “I won't allow anything to break us up.”

Andy locked gazes with his companion. “Won't be easy to keep that vow, son. Her pa seemed downright set on making sure you stay away from her.”

“I ought to have my head examined,” Dave Cox complained. He opened his geometry book, pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to Bronwyn.

“What's this?” Bronnie asked, unfolding the note. She glanced at the signature at the bottom. “Sean gave you this?”

“With instructions that, if I didn't, he'd beat my ass.”

She leaned against her locker and scanned the note. As she did, her eyes filled with tears. “Did you read this?”

Dave gasped. “And have that crazed gorilla come after me?” He shook his head. “Hell, no, I didn't read it!”

The sheet of composition paper rattled in Bronnie's hand as she clasped it to her chest. “He says we can't see one another for a while.”

Dave exhaled loudly. “That's the best news I've heard so far this school year.”

“Because my father threatened him,” Bronnie said with a sob.

“Well, that was to be expected, wasn't it? You know damned well they didn't want Cullen hanging around you.”

“That's not their decision to make!” she hissed, running her hand under her chin, for tears were falling down her cheeks.

“Yeah, well, crap happens, you know?” Dave quipped. “Mine don't want me going in the Marine Corps, either, but when I'm old enough, I plan on enlisting.” He put a hand on Bronnie's shoulder. “That's the key to the whole thing, McGregor. When you're old enough, they can't stop you from doing what you want.”

Bronnie leaned her head against the locker. “But I've got two more years before I turn eighteen.”

“If it's true love, it'll wait.” He squeezed her shoulder. “If it ain't, it won't.”

“Sean says we can't be seen together and he doesn't think we should call one another, but we can pass notes through you.”

“Ah, hell's bells!” Dave fumed. “Don't put me in the middle of this!”

She grabbed his arm. “You are my friend. I trust you.
He
trusts you. You're all we've got! You have to do this for me. You have to!”

“Yeah? And what happens if your mama finds one of those notes? Then what?”

“I'll keep them here,” she said, opening the padlock and putting the note inside the locker.

“Jesus Christ on a stick,” Dave groaned. “I don't like this. I don't like it one damned bit!”

“It'll be okay,” Bronnie said, sniffing.

“You two are gonna get my ass in a sling, you know that?”

“I'll give you my note to him after third period,” she said, not listening. She looked at her watch, then snapped the padlock shut. “I'll see you then.”

Before he could respond, she was gone, walking quickly toward her first class of the day.

Sean scowled at Dave's look of annoyance and tucked Bronnie's note into the pocket of his torn jean jacket. “Did she say anything?”

“You're going to get her in deep crap with her parents, dude,” Dave pronounced.

Ignoring the remark, Sean locked eyes with the shorter man. “Did she
say
anything?”

“No!” Dave shifted his books to the opposite hip. “I hope you two know what you're doing.”

“We do,” Sean said, looking toward the parking lot.

“Her old man'll crap a brick if he finds out this thing between you two ain't over,” Dave remarked gloomily. “He'll be expecting her to date and I got a feelin’ she ain't gonna.”

“Did she say she wouldn't?”

“Ah, hell, Cullen. You know she won't!”

“Watch out for her, will ya, Cox? If guys start hassling her, just let me know.”

“I've always protected her.” Dave lifted his chin. “Ever since pre-school and long before you ever showed up on the scene. Some dude bothers her, I'll take care of it even if it ain't me she'd rather come to her rescue.”