Read Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] Online
Authors: With Hope
Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (32 page)
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“Someone coming, Shep?” Henry Ann put her hand on the dog’s head and peered into the dark night.
The growl changed into a whine of welcome when Grant emerged from the darkness, the unlighted lantern swinging from his hand.
“Grant. Did you find her?”
“Johnny did. She’s all right.” Grant came to the porch. “I’m one muddy mess. If you’ll get my clean shirt and pants, I’ll change in the barn.”
“I’ll get them, and then go inside. You can change here on the porch. Where did Johnny find her?”
“In an old shed at the far end of the woods.”
“I know where that is. It’s on Austin’s land. How in the world did she get way down there?”
“Johnny will have to tell you that, if he knows. He went with Tom to take her home. He’ll be back soon.”
Henry Ann waited in the kitchen while Grant changed out of his wet clothes. When he came in, he left his muddy boots on the porch.
“The electricity is out.” She had lit the lamp on the table.
“There may have been a cyclone west of here.”
“Go on to bed, Grant. I’ll wait for Johnny.”
“It was hard going through the mud. Tom is probably worn-out and still has to deal with that demented woman.”
“Do you think she’s . . . dangerous?”
“It’s hard to say. Some perfectly sane people are dangerous. It could be that she’s more of a danger to herself than to anyone else. The man’s got his problems, that’s sure.”
“It’s too bad,” she said quietly, and turned so that he couldn’t see her face. “We’re making ice cream Sunday afternoon. Karen’s coming out. I invited Chris Austin to come and bring his girlfriend.” She turned to look at Grant. “Karen is my best friend.”
Grant studied her for a moment with eyes that had taken on the deep sadness she had seen from time to time.
“What are you trying to tell me about Miss Wesson?”
“I don’t want you to amuse yourself by flirting with her. She was hurt once. It took a while for her to get over it.”
“What happened?”
“She fell for a man, then found out he had a wife and two children.”
“He was still married?”
“Yes. He was a charming, handsome cad who took great pleasure in making young girls fall in love with him.”
“A man who’d do that isn’t worth the powder it would take to shoot him.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“I’m not married. Never have been.”
“As much as I like you, Grant, I . . . we know nothing about you. You’ll be moving on, you said so yourself.”
“Would it displease you if I decided to settle near here?”
“Not at all. But . . . don’t play fast and loose with Karen’s affections. She’s really very innocent of what goes on in the world.”
“More innocent than you?”
“Much more. My lessons on the sorry side of life began before I started to school.”
“Johnny’s told me some of it.”
“He didn’t have a very happy childhood with our mother.”
“I’m not sure where they came from, but he has deep-seated principles now.”
“It’s hard to understand how Johnny and Isabel, both raised in sorry surroundings, could be so different.”
“Human nature is funny. I’ve known of bank robbers and murderers whose parents were good, churchgoing people.” Grant rubbed his eyes. “I’d better get to bed.”
Too keyed up to sleep, Henry Ann went back out onto the porch to wait for Johnny. She left the lamp on even though it was an extravagant use of lamp oil. Her conversation with Grant played back in her mind. He had, once again, evaded telling her anything about himself except that he wasn’t married. Somehow she believed him.
It amazed her how he had fitted into the life here on the farm. He smiled more than when he first arrived, but at times the sadness came back in his eyes. She wondered what had happened in his life to put it there.
* * *
Tom was bone-tired. His boots, covered with heavy red clay that stuck like glue, made his feet feel as if they weighed fifty pounds each. He trudged alongside the horse that carried Johnny and Emmajean.
When they reached the house, Johnny waited beside the back stoop while Tom went in and lit a lamp. He shed his slicker and boots before he came and lifted Emmajean, sleeping in Johnny’s arms, to carry her into the house.
“Thanks, Johnny.”
“Anything I can do?”
“You’ve already done plenty. I’ll wash her up some and put her to bed. Sure appreciate your help.”
Tom carried Emmajean through the kitchen to the bedroom and lowered her to the bed. Even in the dim light he could see that her arms and legs were scratched and blood oozed in a dozen or more places. Her bobbed hair was wet and muddy. There was a swelling and a bruise on the side of her face.
Days ago Tom had discovered the place in a hollowed-out clay bank by the creek she had made for her secret haven. He often found her there, sitting on the quilt she’d brought, looking into a small mirror, combing her hair, or singing to herself. If he awakened in the morning and found her gone, he’d check the clay bank. Her hideaway had seemed harmless until today when he had gone there and found several match sticks and butts of hand-rolled cigarettes, but no sign of Emmajean.
Tom went to the kitchen and returned with a pan of warm water and the lamp. Emmajean didn’t awaken as he eased the wet dress off her shoulders. It was the only garment she wore. Embarrassed to look at her naked body, he covered the lower part of it with a sheet while he washed her face and arms. He had not realized how thin she was until now. Her arms were mere sticks. It was a distasteful task, but he washed her legs and thighs. There was blood and fluid on her thighs indicating that she’d had sex with a man and that she had been cruelly used.
Johnny had pulled no punches when telling him how she had behaved and what she had said when he found her. Tom drew in a quivering, angry breath. A man who would use a woman as disturbed as Emmajean was not much more than an animal. If he found out who had taken advantage of her, he’d beat him to within an inch of his life.
Names flitted through his mind. Pete Perry or some of his kin would be first on the list, then the flimflammer that Marty worked with. Tom had been disgusted by the man’s response to Emmajean’s deranged flirting. He actually seemed to be interested in her sexual advances and might have gone along with her had Tom not carried her away.
Then, there was Chris Austin, on whose land the shed was located. Emmajean had seen Chris at the air show. He seemed a nice enough fellow, but when a woman offered herself as Emmajean did, a man might lose his head.
She might have been wandering around and come onto the shed. A hobo could have been using it to sleep in. Or maybe someone had met her and taken her there.
Grant didn’t seem to be the kind of man who would rape a woman, that is if it was rape. Nevertheless, he would like to know where Grant had been all afternoon. Johnny, he knew, had been with Henry Ann. Tom dropped the cloth in the washbasin, and closed his eyes.
Henry Ann. Oh, Henry Ann, my dear one—
The rain had not only given the crops and the grasses a good soaking, it had left the roads a quagmire of mud, but by Sunday the hot June sun had dried them out enough so that Grant could drive Aunt Dozie and Henry Ann to their respective churches. Johnny stayed at home with Jay. Henry Ann had no idea of how Grant spent his time during the service, but he was there when it ended. She waited beside the car for Karen, who was going home with them, and groaned when Mrs. Austin came out of the church and hurried down the walk toward her.
“Henry Ann.” Mrs. Austin eyed Grant, who sat behind the wheel of the car, with a sour expression before she smiled sweetly at Henry Ann. “We’ll pick you up any time you want to come to church, dear. It would save Johnny a trip, and gasoline, well, you know how expensive it is. Many of our friends had to give up their motorcars because of the price of gasoline.”
“Thank you for the offer, but so far we’re able to afford the gas. And Johnny or Grant would have to make the trip anyway to take Aunt Dozie to her church. Oh, there’s Karen.” She waved to her friend. “She’s going home with us. Nice seeing you, Mrs. Austin.”
“Are you still taking care of the poor little Dolan boy?”
“Why do you ask?” Henry Ann’s tone was frosty.
“Just wondered, dear. I thought I would call on Mrs. Dolan and see if there’s anything I can do for her. She’s ill, isn’t she?”
“Why else would I be taking care of her child? Ready to go, Karen?”
Henry Ann got into the car to sit next to Grant. Karen crowded in, slammed the door, and the car pulled away, leaving Mrs. Austin standing beside the curb.
“I hate being rude, but that woman gets my back up.”
“She hasn’t given up on getting you for her daughter-in-law,” Karen teased. “Where’s Johnny?”
“At home with Jay. I decided just this minute that I’m bringing him to Sunday school next Sunday.”
“Oh, my! Aren’t we brave? You do want the tongues to wag, don’t you?”
“Let them wag.”
“Hello, Karen.” Grant had pulled up to the ice dock. He bent forward to look past Henry Ann so that he could see her.
“Hello, Mr. Gifford.”
“Have you forgotten my name already?” he said, then told the man on the dock, “Fifty pounds.”
“I didn’t forget, George.” Karen’s cheeks had reddened, and her eyes sparkled.
“George? I had a dog once named George.”
“So did I. A big ugly dog.”
The iceman came out of the icehouse, his tongs firmly embedded in a block of ice. “Where ya want it?”
“In the back. Behind me.”
“I got it,” Grant said, when Henry Ann began to dig in her purse for a coin.
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“It’s done. I fully intend to eat my share of the ice cream.”
Aunt Dozie, Bible in hand, was waiting in front of her church energetically waving her cherished church fan to cool herself.
“Lawd have mercy! Sun’s ’bout cooked my brains. I got me a notion not to come to church no more till wintertime.” She settled herself in the backseat of the car.
“What about your sins, Aunt Dozie?” Grant teased. “By winter you’ll be guzzling moonshine by the quart.”
“Hush yo mouth! I ain’t goin’ to be doin’ nothin’ like dat, and ya knows it!”
“Pay him no mind, Aunty,” Henry Ann said laughingly. “He’s getting more mouthy every day.”
* * *
Homemade ice cream was one of Aunt Dozie’s specialities. She was called upon at times to make it for church socials and wedding receptions. Before going to church, she had scalded the milk while Henry Ann beat together the eggs, sugar, and several spoonfuls of flour. Aunt Dozie poured the hot milk over this mixture and cooked it until it thickened, then set it aside to cool. Now she added the cream and the flavoring.
On the back porch Johnny and Grant chipped the ice and packed it around the galvanized cylinder in the wooden two-gallon freezer. They took turns turning the crank until it became difficult to turn, then the dasher was removed, the lid replaced on the can, and the freezer repacked with salt and ice. Several old quilts covered it to help keep the ice from melting before the cream hardened.
“Do you think Chris will come and bring Opal?” Karen and Henry Ann sat in the porch swing after the noon meal. They had come outside to enjoy the southern breeze.
“I invited them. Chris didn’t say no.”
“I wish he had more backbone.” Karen’s eyes were on Johnny and Grant heading for the well, Jay riding on Johnny’s shoulders and sucking on a chip of ice. “That little boy seems right at home here. He won’t want to go back.”
“I think he will. He’s very attached to his daddy,” Henry Ann murmured.
“Tom’s good-looking in a rough, masculine sort of way. I bet he had plenty of women after him when he was single.” Karen watched Henry Ann as she spoke and noted the slight flush that came to her cheeks.
“Probably did.”
“The talk in town is that his wife is crazy as a bedbug and roams around in the woods . . . sometimes at night.”
“Who started that rumor?”
“Who else but the Perrys?”
“And Mrs. Miller is spreading it like butter on hot bread.”
“Her main aim in life is to keep the citizens of Red Rock informed of all the rumors floating around . . . and to embroider them.”
“She’s a nosy old . . . hen.”
Later, as they sat on the porch, Jay in Henry Ann’s lap, she noticed that Karen and Grant appeared to be shyly aware of each other. Karen was not as spontaneous with her retorts to Grant’s jibes as she had been before, and Henry Ann figured that she had taken to heart the cautionary advice she’d offered her the day they met in the store. When Jay whispered to Henry Ann that he needed to go potty, she left the porch and took him to the outhouse.
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