Runabout (18 page)

}Tulsa May was between a rock and a hard place. She had no desire to face the good people of Prattville. But she could not bear to go one more day without visiting the foundations department of the Emporium. And she needed to turn in her latest news story.

}With that firmly in mind, she'd donned a cute little brimless straw hat circled by a broad satin rose ribbon that met in the front at a satin button and sprouted two wide curled quills that hung high before her. She headed for town early, hoping that no one else would be stirring. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone about anything. Especially when that anything concerned Luther Briggs. Her feelings were so confused and close to the surface, she wished it were fashionable to veil her face. As it was, the whole town could probably see right through her.

}The heels of her shiny "peggy" pumps snapped smartly against the brick sidewalks and echoed rather loudly in the light haze of the early spring morning. The spindly new dogwood trees that sat in square little plots along Main Street were heavily budded and close to blooming. The trees had been Cora Sparrow's idea and had been donated by Cimarron Flower Farms. Their fragile beauty was the only thing in Prattville that managed to capture Tulsa May's attention.

}She hurried into the office of the
Populist,
hoping to turn in her work and pick up her new assignments without much fuss. Erwin Willers, however, had other plans.

}"Well, here she is," he exclaimed loudly as if making an announcement, though the building held only his desk and the huge printing press. "The biggest news story to hit Prattville in weeks! Too bad I can't print it. I swear, Fanny Penny is going to run me out of business."

}His light banter was friendly, but disconcerting. Tulsa May found herself blushing furiously and wishing that she hadn't had to come into the office.

}"Here's that article on the National Automobile Association's project to create a national map of roads," she said.

}Willers nodded and took the copy from her hand. Tulsa May watched him read it. He stood several inches shorter than she, giving her a perfect view of the top of his head where only a small strip of graying brown hair broke the monotony of bright pink bald skin. "Nothing will ever come of the mapping business. There are just too many roads and they change all the time. Besides, why would someone in Oklahoma need to know the roads in Mississippi?"

}"Maybe to go for a visit?" Tulsa May suggested.

}"Humph," was the man's only reply. "What about the Romanian prince fighting with the Allies on French soil?"

}Tulsa May screwed up her mouth with distaste. "It's not really newsworthy, Mr. Willers. There are plenty of Romanians and Latvians and every other kind of person fighting in that war."

}"Not all of them are princes," Wilier corrected her. "And not all of them are married to American girls. Human interest, Tulsa May, got to give folks that human interest."

}"You'd think that folks would be more interested in the issues involved than the personalities of the combatants."

}Willers simply laughed off her comment, but Tulsa May wasn't surprised. In the three years that she'd been writing for the
Populist,
she'd learned that although her work was appreciated and treated fairly, her opinions were almost totally dismissed. Willers hadn't wanted to hire her in the first place.

}"A newspaper office is no place for a woman," he had declared adamantly.

}Her father had agreed completely.

}"Papa, I can't just sit here in this house and let my mind go to waste," she'd argued. "You wanted me to be well read and knowledgeable. Now that I am, should I try to forget it?"

}"I never meant for you to go out and work for wages," the reverend had insisted.

}Tulsa May hadn't known what to say. But behind her she'd heard Luther Briggs chuckle. "I'm surprised at you, Rev. Never thought you were one to have a person hide her light under a bushel."

}It had been Luther who had convinced her father, and it had been Luther who stood at her side when she'd convinced Erwin Willers. But it was her own work, her own words that kept her at the job all this time. Maybe she could never win Mr. Willers over to her way of thinking, but her writing went straight in the paper just as she wrote it.

}"I want that Romanian prince by tomorrow," Willers told her firmly. "Come on, I know you can do it. Just pretend he's the boy next door and your heart will pour out all over the page."

}Tulsa May sniffed, but nodded. "All right, but if I do that, I want a whole column on the Secretary of Interior's ceremony to award the Sioux tribesmen full citizenship."

}"Done," Willers agreed. "And if you have time write me a filler on the Anti-Horse Thief Association Picnic at Carrier last weekend."

}"But I didn't attend," Tulsa May protested.

}Willers shrugged. "I'm sure it was a great success, food, games, music. Just give me something. Nobody from Carrier reads this paper anyway."

}Assignments in hand, Tulsa May left the
Populist
office for her other errand. Like a prisoner walking the scaffold, she made her way to the Emporium. Her mind free of picnics and Romanian princes, she could think only of the one true basic necessity of feminine existence, a foundation garment.

}She had agonized over the problem of her bodice. She never wanted to be seen "jiggling" again, and when she'd finally decided on a solution, it had seemed so simple. Having never been particularly fashionable, she would now deliberately go out of fashion and into modesty by wearing an old-fashioned corset. If only no one were to suspect either her errand or its cause.

}The nearly deserted streets raised her hopes, but they were to be dashed. Glancing through the glass at the Emporium, she saw that the place was already full of people. Momentarily, cowardice reigned, and she thought about turning for home. But she admonished herself for her foolishness. She expected the town to gossip about her. Her plan with Luther actually depended upon it. She did not, however, relish an audience.

}Quietly, she let herself in through the front door, sighing under her breath at the unseemly loud clang of the shop's bell overhead. Every customer in the store looked up. And every one of them stared at her.

}Fanny Penny stood with Amelia Puser. Priscilla Maitland was listening to Opal Crenshaw and Beulah Bowman. Grace Panek was being filled in by Bessie Willers. And Lily Auslander was whispering to Myra Avery. The silence in the room was very nearly deafening.

}"Good morning," Tulsa May greeted the women with exaggerated politeness. She couldn't quite keep the nervous tremor out of her voice or the blush out of her cheeks. With deliberate bravado and determined efficiency, she began removing her gloves as if absolutely nothing about the morning was even the slightest bit unusual.

}A guilty murmur of welcomes and smiles were given. It was clear that Tulsa May Bruder had been the subject of speculation and conjecture, and her sudden appearance had embarrassed them all. Of course, most of all, it had embarrassed her.

}Maybelle Penny, by nature less guilt-burdened than any other lady in town, quickly moved to Tulsa May's side.

}"I'm so glad you've come in this morning," she said with giggling sincerity. "I've been just dying to talk with you."

}"Oh, really," Tulsa May said in a bland tone as she neatly deposited her gloves in her handbag. "Whatever about?"

}"Luther Briggs, of course."

}Maybelle's smile was guileless and her laugh was positively trilling. "So, is it really true that you are keeping company with Pratt County's most handsome heartthrob?" The pretty young woman's question burst out as if she couldn't hold her curiosity in check for another moment.

}Tulsa May looked up at the women around her. Instantly, the store's customers all turned to other concerns. They began busily surveying whatever goods were put before them, attempting to appear unconcerned about young Maybelle's question. Tulsa May, however, was not fooled. The room was totally quiet as each woman strained to hear what answer she might give.

}"We're only ... I mean we're just..."

}"Courting?" Maybelle finished for her.

}Tulsa May wanted vehemently to deny it. But what was the purpose of Luther's efforts to send the gossips off on the wrong trail if she were to come to town and nullify everything he'd done? She could not, however, manage to actually say aloud that Luther Briggs was courting Tulsa May Bruder. She stood silently wishing she'd never allowed Luther to talk her into such a foolish adventure.

}When Tulsa May said nothing to contradict her, Maybelle squealed delightedly in a girlish fashion that Tulsa May found somewhat irksome. "That's what Arthel told me, but I couldn't believe it. You and Luther Briggs! It is just completely amazing."

}Tulsa May's blush darkened, and young Maybelle became aware of the meaning of her words. She clamped a hand over her mouth in horror and then began stuttering and stammering through an apology.

}"I found it a little difficult to believe myself," she said, giving Maybelle both a warm, sisterly hug and a forgiving smile. "My mother also says that there is no making sense of folks and I suppose in this instance she's right."

}Reaching out to take Maybelle's arm, Tulsa May casually began to lead her to the back of the store, away from prying eyes and listening ears. "It
is
a little surprising when a long-term friendship takes a sudden unexpected turn."

}Maybelle looked relieved to have her careless words overlooked. Gratefully, she dropped the subject of romance at least for the moment.

}"Yes, I know exactly what you mean," she told Tulsa May.

}"You and Arthel?"

}Tulsa May's question obviously hit home as Maybelle's cheeks flushed bright red and her chin came up defiantly.

}"Me and Chief Buffalo Brain?" She managed a very high-handed and superior scoff. "There is certainly nothing between us."

}"That's what I meant," Tulsa May said easily. "You were such good friends and inseparable as children, now you seem barely able to tolerate the other's presence."

}"Yes, well..." Maybelle seemed ill at ease now and eager to change the subject. "Are you looking for a new hat? I swear you wear the sweetest hats in town."

}Remembering the purpose of her errand, Tulsa May was, once more, discomfitted. She hated to talk with Maybelle, but discussing her problem with Mrs. Penny would be infinitely more humiliating.

}"Actually, no," she said quietly, looking back to assure herself that she was no longer within hearing distance of the other women. "I need to purchase a new foundation garment."

}"Oh, certainly," Maybelle answered in her shop-girl voice. "If you would step over to this counter."

}She led Tulsa May to the far side of the room where discreet cupboards and drawers contained the latest in ladies' undermuslins and lingerie. "Would you like something prettily trimmed?" she asked sweetly. "Or maybe a bright color? Copenhagen-blue is all the rage."

}Maybelle lined her wares attractively along the counter so that each could be seen and compared with the others. Tulsa May looked down in dismay at the collection of Grecian Girdles and Coutil corsets. She glanced guiltily behind her. "I was hoping for a different style."

}"A different style?" Maybelle looked at her curiously. The young girl gazed down at the wide variety she had set out for display. "We have front Iacers," she said, indicating the garments in question. "And back Iacers with front hooks." She pointed those out too. "We've got these with elastic webbing. They are perfect for sports. Or you can purchase these with steel boning for formal occasions." Maybelle smiled pleasantly at her customer. "We've nearly every type of ribbing or girdle you could possibly want."

}Barely nodding, Tulsa May swallowed nervously. Her voice was only slightly above a whisper. "I would prefer something a little more ... ah ... well... something old-fashioned."

}"Old-fashioned?" Maybelle raised her eyebrows curiously. "Old-fashioned in what way?"

}Tulsa May's expression would have made a casual onlooker think that perhaps she had just robbed a bank.-"Do you have something that comes up high?"

}"High?" Maybelle's brow furrowed as she gazed at Tulsa May's midriff. "How high?"

}Her face brightly flushed now, Tulsa May glanced around nervously again before placing her hand at the level of her collarbone. "About this high," she said.

}Maybelle's eyes widened momentarily. Her mouth formed a little O, then she too guiltily looked around.

}The other women were busily dissecting yesterday's much-mentioned and speculated-about kiss on the preacher's own porch step. Her arrival at the Emporium didn't slow down the gossip in the least, only brought the volume down to a whisper.