Runabout (23 page)

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Authors: Pamela Morsi

BOOK: Runabout
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}Emma looked up at him, startled. "You can't know that."

}"Know what?" Doc Odie asked her. "That he's dying or that it's not your fault?" He didn't give her time to answer. "We
both
know that he's dying. And I hope you will come to believe that it is not your fault."

}Emma looked away, and Doc Odie let the subject drop.

}"Willie's been talking about you a good bit." This brought her gaze to his once more. "He's worried about what's to become of you once he's gone."

}The young woman shrugged. It was a beautiful gesture, full of pride and courage and determination. "I'll be fine," she said with complete confidence. "I can take care of myself."

}Philosophically speaking, Doc Odie would have disagreed that
any
young woman could take care of herself. But Emma seemed stronger than most. She had a way about her that could almost change his mind.

}"I understand from your father that you've been seeing Luther Briggs."

}Emma nearly choked on her tea. The doctor obligingly patted her on the back.

}"I surmise that your father is wrong?"

}The young woman hesitated. Clearly this was a very personal question. The kind of question whose answer could set the gossips upon her once more. She looked across the table at Doc Odie wondering if she dared to be truthful. Somehow, she felt that the doctor could be trusted. "Not wrong exactly," Emma admitted, looking him straight in the eye. "Luther and I have certainly been to our share of roadhouse dances and moving pictures in Guthrie, but he has never called at the house. And he won't be."

}"Oh," the doctor said very quietly. Immediately he understood the nature of the relationship. A fellow who would sashay a lady around the next town, but not call at her own home was clearly up to no good.

}"Your father was hoping that perhaps you and Briggs might have a more serious relationship in the future."

}Emma shrugged again. "I hardly can say anything about that."

}She held her chin high and proud. The doctor felt a surge of admiration. She was clearly an unusual woman.

}"Yes," he agreed thoughtfully. "Men seem to have all the choices in this world. You've heard, I suppose, that he's taken up with Tulsa May Bruder."

}She gave a disdainful sniff. "I'm sure he's not serious about that," she said. "Even you couldn't settle for that connection."

}"No, not
even
me." The pique in his voice and fire in his eyes held the two staring for a long moment before Emma broke into laughter.

}"I apologize, Doctor," she said. "I was letting a sip of green jealousy get the best of my tongue. I meant no offense."

}Doc Odie was surprised to find himself smiling back at her. She had an unusual voice, he thought. There was almost a musical quality to it that was strangely compelling. Beautiful and compelling, it was no wonder that a rich, selfish man like Fremont Bateman would have lied to try to possess her.

}"Please don't worry about me, Doc Odie," she told him. "When I say that I can take care of myself, I mean it."

}The doctor nodded, not taking his eyes off her. She was strong in heart and soul; somehow, he'd always known that. But here in her bright, clean little kitchen she seemed even more so. Like Willie, he began to think a man would be lucky to win her. Maybe even he ... but quickly he pushed the thought away. Despite her past, she was more woman than he could ever hope to win. She would want someone young and strong and as fine to look upon as herself. Someone like Luther Briggs. And certainly, if she wanted Luther Briggs, she'd only need to snap her fingers. Doc Odie was sure that no man could resist a woman like Emma Dix.

}

}"This thing is just like magic!" Titus Penny exclaimed as he stood in the middle of the cool box.

}"Not quite magic," Luther said with some pride. "Just some innovative engineering."

}The refrigerant had arrived on the morning train and Luther now had it circulating through the pipes in the thick wooden walls, with the result that the inside was now quite chilly.

}Titus shook his head. "You have a real gift, son. Not every fellow has got an understanding of machines like you do. You shouldn't be wasting it on those smelly automobiles."

}Luther glanced up at him, puzzled. Penny had been a patron and supporter of his shop since the first day Luther had opened. "I don't consider my business a waste."

}Titus folded his arms across his chest and spoke to the younger man in a slightly superior, fatherly manner. "It hasn't been a waste. But that was yesterday's news. You've the mind and youth to look toward the future."

}"I think the automobile is very much a part of our future."

}"Surely, we'll all be in autocars in just a few years. That's a certainty. But those car designers are really working overtime up north. Pretty soon now, they will have perfected the automobile and it won't need any fixing up or changes. What will happen to your fix-it business then? Everybody will just buy themselves a Ford or a Hupmobile for keepers and the bottom will completely drop out of the repair market."

}Luther looked skeptical. "From what I see as a mechanic, the automobiles don't appear to be anywhere near perfection."

}"But it's coming," Titus insisted. "Mark my words, it's just over the horizon. Why, I read just the other day that they've developed a tire that should last for five thousand miles!" Penny shook his head in disbelief. "That's a full lifetime's worth of travel."

}Luther shrugged. "Well, I believe I'll wait and see. There's no reason to give up a profitable business over the possibility of future problems."

}"Well, you wouldn't have to give it up completely," Titus agreed quickly. "Maybe you could get your brother to run it while you pursue other interests."

}Luther shook his head. "My brother is going to college," he said flatly. "What other interests would I be wanting to pursue?"

}Titus grinned broadly and began twisting his grayed moustache. "Well, I was thinking about that building you own across the street."

}Luther sighed heavily. "As I've told you and nearly everyone else in this town, I haven't made any plans for that building."

}"I know, I know," Titus agreed. "But now I've got a plan for you. I mean for us, that is, for the building."

}Luther merely waited for Titus to continue.

}"How about..." the older man said with great drama, "a big sign across the street reading, 'Briggs-Penny General Engineering.' "

}Luther raised an eyebrow but kept his silence.

}"Can't you see it?" Titus gestured to the walls of the cool box with pride. "If you can finagle a setup like this, son, then there's no telling what kind of machines you can make."

}"And you want me to make them across the street?"

}Penny nodded. "You just build whatever you've a mind to, and I'll take care of the rest."

}Luther nodded. "That's where the 'Briggs-Penny' comes in."

}"I'll bankroll your projects," Titus told him. "And I'll sell whatever gadgets you come up with. If one of your inventions turns out to be a real moneymaker, we split it right down the middle."

}"Right down the middle?" Luther looked at him assessingly. "What if nothing turns out to be a 'real money-maker'?"

}"Oh, fiddle, don't worry about that, son. If you don't ever come up with nothing but this cool box, it's enough to give us both a good stake in the future."

}Luther grinned then, with eyes twinkling. "Mr. Penny, you already own half the town, what makes you think you
need
a stake in the future?"

}Titus flushed slightly. "There's new things coming along every day. I sure don't want to be left behind." As if suddenly remembering something, Titus stepped out of the cool box and gestured for Luther to follow. From beneath a counter on the far side of the store, the older man pulled out a large white box. "Come take a look at this," he said with a conspiratorial grin.

}As Luther stood across from him, Penny opened the box on the counter and laid out several strange white garments before him; his laugh could almost have been considered a giggle.

}"My Fanny set up a fit about these things," he confided. "She said they was indecent, but I know an innovation when I see one."

}"An innovation?"

}Penny nodded proudly. "It's the very latest thing in ladies' undermuslins."

}Luther picked up one of the pale, lacy garments with one finger and held it before him curiously. "What is it?"

}"It's called a brassiere," Titus told him proudly.

}"What does it do?"

}Penny chuckled. "Now that's the catch." Leaning toward Luther, he spoke just above a whisper. "The women wear it on their bosom."

}Luther held it up, examining it more closely. The narrow band of white cambric was lightly boned at the sides and the bottom, and hooked together at the center, forming two distinct cups that a man could easily imagine being filled with soft female flesh.

}"It's a corset?"

}"Well," Penny related eagerly, "that's what the manufacturer calls it. But my Fanny says no. She was in a huff for days."

}"Why?"

}"Well, it seems that the brassiere not only holds the bosom in, it holds it up." Penny raised his eyebrows meaningfully, but Luther didn't immediately catch on.

}"Try to imagine all the old brood mares in this town sticking straight out like they was sixteen-year-old fillies."

}Luther's eyes widened at the image. And he looked more respectfully at the garment he held.

}"Fanny said we weren't having none of it," Titus continued. "She said it was a scandal in the making. I had to order these secretly and hide them out here in the store."

}"You don't agree with your wife?"

}Penny shook his head. "These are going to sell like hotcakes. There ain't a woman in this town, or any other, that won't rob her own egg money to look younger."

}Luther nodded in agreement as he turned the brassiere in his hands, examining it with awe. "Can't you just see Sunday afternoon in the park?" he said. "There won't be any room for the gentlemen. It will be crammed with bosoms."

}Titus couldn't quite imagine that. "Surely they won't wear them on Sunday?"

}A flutter of noise at the front of the store startled them. Penny jerked the brassiere out of Luther's hands and buried it in the box with the others, hastily stashing it below the counter.

}"Morning, Mrs. Puser," the store owner called out.

}Luther turned to nod politely at the undertaker's wife, who was dressed smartly, as always, in the most fashionable of mourning clothes. Her afternoon silk was the darkest summer violet and was traced along the front and back panels with fine black threads. She carried a neat little basket, trimmed in a near matching lavender.

}"Good morning, Titus, Luther," she said with the regal dignity of a reigning queen. "I'm here to purchase your best greens, Titus, and I won't be persuaded to take anything less."

}"Yes, ma'am," Titus answered as he hurried around the counter. Glancing back, he spoke once more to Luther. "Just think about what I've said," he told him. "I think we might manage a good business together and you couldn't come up with a better use for that building."

}"I'll give it some thought." Luther picked up his hat and turned to the door, but Mrs. Puser waylaid him.

}"You are talking about that building you purchased across the street?"

}"Yes, ma'am," Luther admitted.

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