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Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (46 page)

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]

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“Everyone thinks her baby is yours.”

“Well, it isn’t. She swore she didn’t know who raped her. I think it was a Perry. And if I knew which one, I’d kill him, and she knows it.”

Pete pulled a comb out of his shirt pocket and ran it through his damp hair.

“Don’t see many pink combs,” Sheriff Watson said after Pete put the comb back in his shirt pocket. “Don’t know as I ever saw another one.”

“It’s the only one I ever saw. Most are black.” Pete pulled the comb from his pocket again. “It’s got all its teeth, too.”

“Where’d ya get it?”

“Found it on the back porch. Guess one of the folks lost it the other night.” He laughed. “They’ll play hell gettin’ it back.”

The sheriff stood slowly. He drew his gun with one hand and pulled out his handcuffs with the other.

“You’re under arrest, Pete. Turn around.”

“What the hell—” Hardy came off the porch.

“Stay back, Hardy.”

“Pete said he went over to see old man Hastings. Go over there and ask him.”

“Hastings is gone. The place is boarded up. I was there before I came here.”

“Good God, man. Go find him.” Pete looked at the sheriff from over his shoulder. “You arresting me ’cause old Hastings is gone, and I can’t prove I was there?”

“No. I’m arresting you because you have Mrs. Dolan’s comb in your pocket. The comb she left out at that little hidey place by the creek where she was murdered.”

“I found it, for God’s sake. I found it on the back porch.”

“Hellfire,” Hardy exclaimed. “Half of Mud Creek knew about her going to that place. That woman was crazy as a bedbug.”

“Maybe so, but she didn’t deserve to be killed.” The sheriff snapped the handcuffs on Pete’s wrists.

“I never screwed that woman. I can get ’em without takin’ a loony,” Pete insisted. He knew better than to make a sudden move with the barrel of a gun in his back.

“Cousin Wally bragged about gettin’ it out there,” Hardy said. “She was willin’. More than willin’. Begged for it like a two-bit whore.”

“Pete’s the one I’m interested in right now. He has the comb. You’d better get busy and sell some of that white lightning, Hardy. Pete’s going to need a lawyer.”

Jude and Hardy stood in the yard and watched the sheriff put Pete in the car.

“Take care of my horse, Jude,” Pete yelled.

“Don’t worry ’bout him.” The boy and the man watched the sheriff’s car drive away. “He didn’t do it, Hardy.” Jude’s voice shook. “Pete brags and all that, but he’d not kill a woman. He talks nasty to make himself look big. He wants to be more than what he is.”

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with what he is,” Hardy retorted angrily. “There’s not a woman on Mud Creek that wouldn’t jump at the chance to have him.”

“Opal Hastings didn’t jump at the chance to have him. Pete doesn’t want anyone to know it, but he’s really sweet on Henry Ann Henry.”

“She couldn’t see him for dirt. Damn her! I’d stake my life that Pete didn’t kill that woman. If I find out who did it and blamed it on Pete, I’ll break his goddamn neck.”

“It’d not help Pete for you to kill someone else. Let me think on this, Hardy. You start thinking, too, of everybody that bragged about getting to Dolan’s wife. Somebody dropped that comb on the porch to make it look like Pete or one of us did it. Who’s been here since that night?”

“Hell, I don’t remember.”

“If we’re going to help Pete, you’d better get to remembering.”

Hardy looked at his young son with a new respect.

“How old are you now, Jude?”

“Eighteen.”

“I guess I forget yo’re a man now.”

“Nobody’s going to lift a finger to help a Perry. We’ve got to give the sheriff a reason to think it was someone other than Pete.”

* * *

Grant came back after taking Karen home with the news that the sheriff had arrested Pete Perry for the murder of Emmajean Dolan.

“Oh, my,” Henry Ann said. “The sheriff must have had good reason to arrest him, but I can’t imagine him doing it.”

“Pete’s father came in to see Mr. Phillips and tried to hire him to defend Pete. Mr. Phillips had to explain that he was hired by the county to prosecute Pete. The man was ready to punch Mr. Phillips when the young kid with him intervened and asked who was the next best lawyer in the county.”

“That would be Jude, Pete’s younger brother, doing the asking,” Johnny explained. “He’s real smart and wants to go to college. Pete treats the kid like dirt sometimes, but I think he was proud of him, too.”

Just after dark when the fireflies were out, Henry Ann caught one and put it in a glass jar for Jay. She and the boy sat in the porch swing, Tom on the steps; Grant and Johnny lolled in the chairs. All were wrapped in their own thoughts.

Aunt Dozie was in the parlor listening to the radio. Amos and Andy were having problems running their Fresh Air Taxicab Company. Dozie had never seen a taxicab, much less ridden in one, but that didn’t keep her from enjoying the show. Every once in a while Henry Ann could hear her laugh. It was such a pleasant, normal sound after the tension of the past few days.

She waited impatiently for the time she could be alone with Tom before he went back home to sleep in the barn. Johnny had taken over fresh straw, bedding, towels, and soap. She had sent along her daddy’s shaving equipment and a small mirror. He had to be there, she knew, to look after his stock and to discourage thieves who might think the homestead was deserted and help themselves to whatever they could find.

When Aunt Dozie turned off the radio, Henry Ann gently shook Jay, who had cuddled up beside her and was dozing against her arm.

“Time to go to bed, sweetheart.”

“Can I take my firefly?”

“Why don’t we let it go play with the other fireflies? We’ll get another one tomorrow night and keep it for a while.”

“’Bye, firefly,” Jay said sleepily.

Henry Ann, conscious of Tom’s eyes on her, took the jar from Jay’s hand and tilted it so that the little bug could fly out into the night. She lifted the child from the swing, and they went into the house.

When the ritual of washing and undressing was over, Tom came to the bedroom door to take his son outside to let water. He had him stand on the edge of the back porch so that he’d not get his feet dirty. His eyes caught and held Henry Ann’s when they returned to the bedroom, and she felt a fluttering in her stomach.

“Good night, sweetheart.” Henry Ann bent to kiss the child’s cheek after he was in the bed.

“Goo’night, Mama. Goo’night, Daddy.”

“See you tomorrow, son.”

Henry Ann caught her breath and looked quickly at Tom. He took her hand in his bandaged one, then reached to turn off the light that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. The house was dark except for the light that came from the crack under the door of Aunt Dozie’s room. He led Henry Ann out the front door to the porch, vacant now, and wrapped her in his arms.

“Ah . . . love. My sweet love,” he breathed just before he found her lips with his and kissed her sweetly, tenderly.

“Tom.” Henry Ann held back. “I told Jay to call me Henry Ann. I haven’t encouraged him to call me . . . that.”

“Do you mind, honey? He needs a mama. He’s never really had one.”

“I love it. I’ve always wanted children and hoped I’d have more than one. It was lonely growing up an only child. I’d not want to take his mother’s place. I want to make a place of my own.”

“She had no place, sweetheart. And you have made a place of your own. You’ve been the only mama he’s ever had.”

“I feel like he’s mine. I love him. I couldn’t bear to lose him.”

“You won’t lose him. Grant assured me of that.”

“I was surprised that he’s a lawyer.”

“We can talk about Grant later.” Tom pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. “You love me, really love me?” His whispered words came against her lips.

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

“Come ride with me.”

He led her out into the yard to where he had left the car. When she was settled in the seat, he went around to the other side and got under the wheel. He backed the car out onto the road. Moonlight made headlights unnecessary. He drove slowly with one arm around Henry Ann. No words were spoken. They were content to be close together in the darkness. She leaned her head on his shoulder; he reverently kissed her forehead.

They reached the Dolan farm and Tom drove into the yard, turned off the motor, and put both arms around Henry Ann. As he kissed her, her arm slipped up and around his neck.

“Most folks wouldn’t understand this, but I never, never felt married to Emmajean. I pitied her and stayed with her because she was Jay’s mother. I feel married to you, my love, in my heart.”

“Was it because you were not married in the Catholic Church?”

“That wasn’t it at all. When
we
marry, I hope that you’ll consent to be married in both churches. I’ll never ask you to give up your religion for mine—”

“—Nor will I ask you.” All her senses were filled with his overwhelming male presence. She could feel his lips at the side of her face and smell the woodsmoke still in his hair.

He tilted her face to his. It was too dark to see his eyes, but she knew that he was looking into hers. Her palm caressed his face. All the love, the warmth, the yearning was there in her touch.

“I love you so much.” The words tumbled from her lips. She felt his body tremble.

“That’s what I need to hear, sweetheart.” He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. “I’ve felt so guilty . . . about the other night. Your first time should have been in a soft bed where we could have taken our time, and I could have loved you all night long—”

“Hush, love.” She put her fingers over his lips. “That little time we had together was perfect.”

“You don’t . . . regret that we didn’t wait?”

“No. I’m only sorry that while we . . . while we—”

“I know. I’ll carry that guilt for as long as I live.”

They were silent for a long while, holding each other, content to be together. When Tom spoke it was after a series of long, sweet kisses.

“I’ve not got much to offer you now, sweetheart. But someday I will. I’ll work this farm, I’ll set up a shop here to fix cars when all this is settled. I’ll have something wonderful to look forward to . . . you and Jay in a home of our own.”

“How long do I wait?”

“I’m not sure. But it will happen just as soon as I can make it happen.”

“Why wait at all? My home would be our home . . . yours and mine and Jay’s and Johnny’s.”

He drew back. “I’ll not have folks think that I married you for what you have. I want them to know that I married you because I love you with all my heart and that I’m taking you to love and care for, for better or for worse.”

“I don’t care what people think.” She leaned farther back to look at him. “Are we going to let
things
keep us apart? It isn’t fair for you to ask me to wait until you can accumulate as many
things
as I have. I want us to share what we have.”

“I don’t have much to share, love. I’m not even a very good farmer.”

“I wouldn’t care if you were a bum coming off the road. But you have this land to add to mine. It will be ours then. You have your ability to fix things. Someday Johnny will leave to make his own way—”

“Sweetheart, we can’t make plans until this thing with Emmajean is settled. Let’s not talk about it now. I just want to hold you and kiss you and tell you what it means to me to know that you love me. You gave me the most precious gift a woman can give . . .” The words came jerkily, his voice husky. His mouth closed hungrily over hers in a deep, moist, endless kiss. His bandaged hand moved over her breast, and he groaned. “I want to feel your sweet breasts again, hold them, kiss them—”

It seemed to Henry Ann that they were no longer two separate people, but one blended together by magic. She slipped her hand inside his shirt and raked her fingertips over the soft fur on his chest. She was giddy with the freedom to caress him. Their noses were side by side and their lips so close they touched when they spoke.

“I like to touch you,” she whispered.

“I like for you to. Oh, God, I like it so much.” Then as her hand continued to caress, “You’d better stop, sweetheart. I might have to have you right now.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“The next time we come together it will be as man and wife. It’s going to be perfect. I’m going to love you all night long, and there’ll be no bandages on my hands so I can feel every inch of you.”

“I could feel you,” she said, kissing him with teasing slowness.

He hugged her hard. “Sweetheart, you’re driving me crazy. If you weren’t so damn sweet, I’d think you were a witch. You’ve put a spell on me.”

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]

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