Read Song of the Road Online

Authors: Dorothy Garlock

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Adult, #Historical, #Western, #American, #Frontier and Pioneer Life, #2000s

Song of the Road (5 page)

BOOK: Song of the Road
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“You were on the bus last night.” She said the words even as they came to her.

“No crime in that.”

At the sound of his low, husky voice she moved her eyes away from him.

“You’ll have to move, Mr. Ramero.”

“Not for three months.”

“Three months? Did my mother rent this cabin for three months?”

“Four. But I’ve been here a month.”

“And how much did you pay her?”

“I paid forty dollars in advance for four months.”

“The cabins rent for one fifty a day.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right. You got a bargain.”

“She got ready cash. It’s what she wanted.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute. She was out of boo —” Mary Lee cut off the word. “Do you have a receipt for the money you gave her?” She was angry at him because his face was familiar, and at herself because it was stuck in her memory.

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Keep it handy. When the sheriff comes you’ll need it.”

“I paid her price.”

“I can’t just take your word on it.”

“Unless you give me my forty dollars back, I’m staying. And don’t tell me that I took advantage of her. I thought I was doing her a favor.”

“I don’t doubt that she gave you a pitiful story. When she gets to a certain . . . ah . . . state, she’ll do anything.” Mary Lee turned and, as fast as her tired legs would carry her, headed back to the house. It was all she could do to keep her head up and her shoulders straight.

Jake Ramero watched Mary Lee until she reached the house. He felt the same flutter deep in his gut as when he had caught a glimpse of her on the bus. Last night he had been tempted to wait until he was sure someone was meeting her; but when he saw her get back on the bus, he had taken off through the back streets to the motor court.

When the bus stopped and let her off in front of the court, he was unlocking his door. He had known immediately that she was Scott Finley’s daughter.

Of course, everyone in town knew that her mother was, and remained, a drunk. That would limit her opportunities with any of the high-tones in town. Hell, after his two-year stint in the pen, he doubted he’d ever be invited to dine with the banker. His chuckle was dry and without humor.

Good Lord. Surely she could have done better than a loser like Bobby Clawson.

If she thought old Ocie Clawson was going to give her something because she was carrying Bobby’s kid, she’d better think again. If the old bastard did anything, he’d take the baby and tell her to get the hell out.

Jake closed the door. It had angered him when he saw her tugging on that old mattress. She shouldn’t be doing things like that in her condition. Hell and high water! It irritated him that she stuck in his mind. He had enough problems without taking on hers. He had come back here for one reason only; and as soon as he took care of that matter, he’d be long gone.

Mary Lee stopped on her way to the house and rattled the doorknob on number one. It was closed up tight. Frank Pierce had made himself scarce since last night.

Well, he had to come back sometime.

An hour later the light over the Vacancy sign was turned off. The three cabins were rented. Mary Lee had four dollars and fifty cents in her pocket. Tomorrow she would pay down on a mattress to go in number three; and when it was paid for, she would see about getting the telephone turned back on. Thank goodness her mother had paid enough on the electric bill so they still had electricity.

Mary Lee was too tired to eat but knew that she had to for the baby’s sake, which reminded her that she had to see Dr. Morris sometime soon. That was another thing. When was she going to find the time to hem diaper material and line a basket? She had secreted away ten dollars to spend on things for the baby. So far all she had was the diaper material and two gowns.

The baby was a miracle that she had at first resented because of the way it had been conceived. She had hated every minute she spent in bed with Bobby, trying to give him satisfaction. During the first weeks of their marriage he had tried to penetrate her almost every night and succeeded only a couple of times. As the months went by, his obsession with gambling grew, and he initiated sex less and less.

One night during an argument about his gambling, he slapped her, then threw her down and penetrated her with more gusto than he’d ever shown before. He was immediately sorry, wept, and begged her not to leave him. He said it would never happen again, and it hadn’t. Bobby never knew that the result of that one act had left the only positive thing to mark his time spent on this earth.

It didn’t matter now how her baby came to be. She already loved it with all her heart and was determined that it would grow up knowing a mother’s care.

Mary Lee scrambled eggs and toasted bread beneath the burner in the oven. She was sitting down to eat when her mother came out of the bedroom. She had changed into a sleeveless sundress that revealed her bony shoulders. She had crimped waves in her hair by using the curling iron, heated in the chimney of the coal oil lamp. Her cheeks were rouged and her lips smeared with bright red lipstick. To Mary Lee she was a pitiful sight.

“Want to share my eggs?” Mary Lee asked.

“No.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Listen. I don’t need you nagging me.”

“I don’t mean to nag, Mama. I don’t want you to get sick.” “If you’re so concerned, why did you run off my friends?” “Mama, don’t let’s fight. Help me get this place running again like it was when Daddy was here.”

“Scott didn’t nag me.”

“No. He probably knew it wouldn’t do any good,” Mary Lee snapped irritably. Then, when Dolly went to the door, “Where are you going?”

“None of your business. If I can’t have my friends in my home, I’ll go to theirs.”

“I didn’t say you — Oh, never mind.” Mary Lee realized that her mother was not in a reasonable mood.

Without a look or another word, Dolly walked out the back door. Mary Lee placed her fork on the edge of her plate. The eggs suddenly tasted like sawdust. Her mother was showing her dislike for her more than she ever had before.

Mary Lee wished that her attitude didn’t hurt so much. She still had her suitcase to unpack before she went to bed. Tomorrow she would find time to clean the room. All of that left her mind when she looked out the window and saw a light in cabin number one.

Frank Pierce was back.

Mary Lee hurriedly left the house and went to the cabin. She lifted her hand to rap, then paused when she heard her mother’s voice, then the low rumble of a male voice. Anger erased her tiredness and stiffened her back. She rapped on the door, hard and insistently. When it opened, Frank stood there, blocking her view.

“What’a ya want?”

“You to leave.”

“I told you I rented by the month.”

“Show me the receipt or I’ll call the sheriff.”

Dolly crowded in, holding on to Frank’s arm with one hand and the neck of a bottle with the other. “He paid for a year, Miss Nosy. I gave him a receipt.”

“You’ll have to swear to that, Mama,” Mary Lee said calmly.

“Go on back in the house,” Dolly said.

Mary Lee’s eyes moved past Dolly to see Pearl sitting on the bed. “Has she been here all day?”

“I told her she could come out here.”

“It’s none of yore business who’s in my room,” Frank said in a booming voice. “Now, unless you want to join the party, get the hell away from my door. I’ll take ya on even if ya do have a bun in the oven.” He gave her a wolfish leer.

“You’re an insult to the human race. I’ll go see Mr. Morales in the morning and see what can be done about getting you out of here.”

“Do that, and while yo’re at it, tell him ’bout the jailbird ya got down in number six!”

“Mama rented to him and took his money. But that has nothing to do with you. Have your receipt handy. You’ll need it.”

“And ya can kiss my ass, bitch!” he yelled, and slammed the door.

Disappointment in her mother kept Mary Lee rooted to the spot. Blood rushed to her face, and her heart beat so fast she could hardly breathe. Her knees were weak when she turned to go back to the house. When she stumbled on a clump of dirt, she felt a hand on her arm. She let out a small shriek of alarm.

“Don’t be scared. I don’t want you to fall and hurt the kid.” She recognized the distinctive voice of the man in number six.

He had witnessed her humiliation!

“I’m all right.”

“You don’t feel all right. You’re trembling like a scared rabbit.”

“You heard?”

“Yeah. Passing by on my way to town. Couldn’t help but hear.”

“I’ve got to get him out. Mama will never straighten up with him here,” she said, as if talking to herself. They reached the porch steps. “Thank you.” She turned and sat down on the steps, not wanting him to see her stumbling into the house.

She expected him to leave, but he stood there looking down at her.

“Thank you,” she said again.

“You said that. Haven’t you learned that there’s a time to attack and a time to back off?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll get nowhere with a man like Frank Pierce, especially when he’s drinking. Talk to the sheriff.”

“Mama will give him a receipt. He probably paid her in whiskey.”

“You’d better get some help if you’re going to run this place.”

“I can’t afford it. My daddy ran this place without help.” “He wasn’t a girl and he wasn’t pregnant.”

Ashamed that she had revealed so much to this man who was a stranger yet not a stranger, she got shakily to her feet, afraid that she would burst into tears before she got in the house. “Good night.”

She didn’t know if he answered or not. She hurried to her room and threw herself down on the bed. Something seemed to give way inside her. She was too depressed even to cry.

Jake Ramero headed once more for town, telling himself that he had no business getting involved with the girl or her problems. But dammit to hell. Frank Pierce was a lazy loud-mouth and as mean as a rutting moose when he was drinking. Mary Lee would have a hard time getting rid of him.

How in hell was a pregnant woman going to keep the motor court going by herself? Weeds needed to be cut, holes in the roadway filled, trash hauled away. Even the signs along the highway needed to be repainted. She had her work cut out: doing the washing, keeping the cabins clean and her mother out of sight.

He had seen cars drive in and leave after being greeted by Mrs. Finley. In the month he’d been here, he’d seen the floozy who stayed there clean a cabin a time or two, but he’d not seen a wash on the line. After a couple of weeks, he’d bought himself a set of sheets and a few towels.

With his thoughts to distract him, Jake’s long legs covered the distance to town before he knew it. At the post office he dropped a letter in the mail slot, then went down the street, turned in at Red Pepper Corral and straddled a stool at the bar.

“Hi-ya, Paco.”


Hola,
Jake. Bottle or draw?”

“Draw.”

“Quiet tonight.” Jake drank deeply and wiped the foam off his lips with the back of his hand.

“It’s early. You still out at Quitman’s?”

“Part-time, breaking stock horses. He gives me time off now and then to do some bridge work.”

“Heard you came in on the bus the other night.”

“Does anything happen in this town you don’t know about?” Jake growled. Paco was one of a few men in Cross Roads he called a friend.

“Very little,
amigo.
” Paco grinned, showing the wide space between his front teeth. He was a short man with broad shoulders and long arms. His family had been in northern New Mexico since 1826. He and Jake had become friendly when they learned that both their great-grandfathers had fought in the Battle of Glorieta in 1862.

Jake’s mother had been the granddaughter of Luis Gazares Callaway, who was considered a hero in that battle. With his half brother, Burr Macklin Calloway, Luis had owned a large parcel of land called Macklin Valley in central New Mexico. Jake’s mother had told him that although Luis Gazares had died when she was a little girl, from what she could remember of him, Jake was his image.

“I went to Amarillo to buy a pair of boots.”

“Horse hockey! Ocie was in here earlier. You just missed him.”

“My lucky day.”

“He was nosing ’round. Wanted to know about Bobby’s widow. Rosen, over at the bank, had told him she was back. I never understood why that girl married Bobby in the first place. Her daddy was as nice a man as I ever met.” Paco moved down the bar and filled a glass for another customer.

“Didn’t know you let jailbirds in here or I’d not a come in.” The rough-looking cowboy turned on his stool to look at Jake.

“Bet that jailbird didn’t know I let braying jackasses in here either. You can leave anytime ya want. I’ll not go broke missing your business.” Paco scooped up the cowboy’s money and came back to wipe the counter in front of Jake.

BOOK: Song of the Road
9.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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