Tenderness (23 page)

“Have you been going to the ball games? I hear Grover has a good team.”

After a pause, Jesse answered. “We’ve been to some. Todd, my brother, loves to go. He says he’s going to be just like Joe
‘Iron Man’ McGinty.”

“Whoa!” Ethan’s laugh was warm. “I was at the game when they threw him out for stepping on the umpire’s toes, spitting on
him, then punching him. They not only threw him out of the game but out of the National League. He was later reinstated because
the fans demanded it. The little escapade cost him a wad of cash in fines.”

“Wait until Todd hears that you were at that game. You’ll be his hero.”

“Great. That’s probably
as
close as I’ll ever get to being one.”

Doctor Forbes came to the door. “Come in, Ethan. We’ll go over the information about the vaccinations.” Ethan went into the
house.

“Why don’t you like him?” Jesse asked.

“I just don’t. He’s too sure of himself.”

“You acted as if he were… were—”

“The Looker? Maybe he is.”

“I don’t believe it. He’s just a nice man. He might be fun.”

“Not to me. I’m going in. I need to prepare for tomorrow’s lessons.”

Jesse watched Pauline escape into the house and wished with all her heart that there was something she could do to ease her
friend’s fear.

Lessons with Jody were going well. He and Pauline had carried a table out to the barn—out from under Mrs. Lindstrom’s eagle
eye, as Pauline put it. Each morning Jody worked for a couple of hours in the yard before lessons. After dinner, they studied
for a couple more hours. Then Jody quietly disappeared.

Several evenings a week Todd slipped away after dinner to go to Ike’s garage. He came home before it was completely dark with
greasy hands that he washed at the pump. Once Jesse brought out clean clothes so that he could leave the greasy ones in the
wash house. She wanted badly to ask him if Wade had been there, but she didn’t; and although she listened for any news Todd
might volunteer, she heard nothing about Wade.

After a few days, when her father failed to mention the scene in the parlor, Jesse realized that Mrs. Lindstrom had not told
him. She debated again about telling him herself but decided against it. He would be put in the middle again and have to take
sides, but surely he wouldn’t have approved of the housekeeper’s slapping Todd.

Then something happened that caused Jesse to stand in the door and wait for her father to return from the depot, where he
had supervised the loading of enough smallpox vaccine to vaccinate the entire county.

“Papa, I’ve got to talk to you,” she said as soon as he had hung his hat on the rack.

“What’s happened?”

Jesse closed her eyes for an instant. “I had promised myself that I’d not complain about Mrs. Lindstrom, but this time she
has gone too far.”

“What has she done?”

“She dumped out all the canned food that I brought back from the hill country. Dumped every bit of it in a slop bucket and
had Todd take it down to Mr. Adams’ hogs. When I asked her why she did it, she said it wasn’t clean. I’m not only angry, Papa,
I’m furious! That food was as clean as any she cooks. Mrs. Bailey may live in a shack, but it’s spotless. The Gordons are
as clean as anyone I’ve seen in town. The Prestons are dirt-poor, but Mrs. Preston is neat and clean with her person and her
cooking. That woman even threw away the dried pumpkin and peaches I bought from Mrs. Arnold.” Jesse paused to take a deep
breath. “Papa, those people have pride. They sacrificed to give up that food as payment, and she threw it away as if it were
so much garbage.”

“Jesse,” Hollis took his spectacles out of the case and put them on. “Mrs. Lindstrom comes from a different background from
ours. She doesn’t understand the ways here. To her the people up there are trash like the ones in the slums in the cities
of the world. I can understand her reluctance to use the home-canned food.”

“Papa, why didn’t she tell one of us her concerns about the food? I never got sick eating at the tables up there. If she didn’t
want to use it she could have just let it sit. She won’t be here forever.” Jesse’s eyes were steady when she looked at her
father and added, “Or will she?”

“Jesse,” he said tiredly. “You’re over-reacting to this. I agree that she shouldn’t have dumped the food without discussing
it with you, but she didn’t do it maliciously.”

Jesse looked into his face and suddenly realized that he looked strained and tired and old. She went to him where he sat in
the chair and, bending, put her arms around him as she had done in the days following Dora’s death.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.” She patted his shoulder and moved away. “I take it the vaccine
came in.”

“Yes. I asked the freighter to bring it over. I didn’t take the buggy, and there were other supplies too heavy to carry.”

“We’ll have two busy Saturdays. Pauline has volunteered to help with the paperwork so that I can help with the vaccinations.”

“Ralph put a good-sized notice on the front page of the
Gazette.
I hope it brings the people out. Your idea of a donation box is a good one, Jess. The folks who can pay will donate. Those
who can’t won’t be embarrassed. It will bring out the ones who can’t afford to pay.”

“Jody should be vaccinated.”

“Of course. We’ll do it here in the office.”

“He’s a strange boy. Sometimes I forget that he’s colored.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Pauline says he’s smarter than all get out—soaks up everything she tells him and asks questions.”

“Why is she teaching him in the barn?”

“The boy is proud as a peacock, Papa. He won’t come into the house. Mrs. Lindstrom chased him from the doorstep with the broom
the first time he came with my message.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“He stays around until sundown and then disappears. I wonder if he runs all the way back to Mr. Simmer’s place.”

“I doubt it,” Hollis said drily. “Hand me the ledger, Sis. I’ve got to write down some things before I forget them.”

As usual after supper, Jesse and Pauline sat on the porch. This evening they watched Todd and one of his friends play “kick
the can.”

“What a wonderful way to wear out your shoes—and yourself.” Pauline had pulled her hair to the top of her head and tied it
with a ribbon. Now she wiped the back of her neck with her handkerchief.

“They’re old shoes. We saved them for just this purpose. When he wore a hole right through the sole, we put a piece of cardboard
inside. That’s probably worn through by now.”

“It’s awfully hot. Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Maybe later. I’ll get us some lemonade.”

“Sit still. I’ll get it.” She leaned toward Jesse and whispered, “Old Ghost-face walked uptown. I can pilfer some ice from
the icebox.”

“Oh, you! How am I ever going to teach Susan and Todd to be
refined
with you around?”

Pauline was still laughing as she left the porch. She was back to her old flamboyancy with one exception: when Ethan Bredlow
was around, she turned cold, and when he persisted in his attempts to get her to talk, she became downright rude.

Jesse rocked gently in the swing, one foot tucked under her, the other touching the porch floor. The scent of honeysuckle
was in the air. Earlier in the evening she’d seen a hummingbird dipping its long beak into the blossoms to drink the sweet
nectar.

Her senses swarmed with details of her last meeting with Wade. She had only to close her eyes to see his sculptured features:
high cheekbones, magnificently squared jaw, and his forest-green eyes framed with thick dark lashes. His eyes were like deep
pools, clear and fathomless, as though they reached to the very center of him. She had lived over and over the time they spent
alone in the buggy, recalled every word and every touch. She relived the kisses they shared, the raw pleasure of his warm,
vibrant body pressed to hers, the tender expression on his hard, dark face just before he kissed her.

She half-hoped he would never come to call. It would be an ordeal for her as well as for him. He was a hill man and she a
town girl. They had absolutely nothing in common. To get more involved with him would only mean heartache for her.

Jesse opened her eyes.

Wade was coming around the end of the porch.

Her foot stopped pushing the swing. She blinked. He seemed to have materialized out of her imagination except that he was
wearing a white stiff-collared shirt with a string tie and dark dress pants. She watched him walk toward her, unable to keep
her foolish heart from fluttering like a caged wild bird. He removed his hat as he stepped up onto the porch. Her imagination
could not have conjured the look of longing in his eyes or the expression of uncertainty on his face.

“Wade.” Her throat tightened as she said his name. She suddenly yearned to tell him how glad she was to see him, although
a minute ago she had hoped he wouldn’t come.

“Good evening. Is this a convenient time to call?”

“Yes, of course.” She removed her numbed leg from beneath her and straightened her skirts. “Come sit down.”

He sat down beside her, holding his hat on his lap. “It’s been a long time since I’ve sat in a porch swing.”

“I sit out here for a while each evening.”

The tension in his expression and the set of his shoulders told her how uncomfortable he was. Her mind searched for a way
to put him at ease.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked with quiet emotion.

“About what?” The unexpected words stirred confusion in her.

“About… wanting me to call?” The agony in his eyes sent a quiver through her heart.

“Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I came by one evening and you… already had a caller. He was sitting there on the rail talking to you and Miss Anthony.”

“That was Ethan Bredlow. He works for the newspaper and came to see Papa.” She clutched his arm. “I wish you had stayed and
met him.”

His hand covered hers and squeezed it so hard that it hurt. He could have broken it and she would not have cared.

“This past week has been pure hell. I wanted to see you so damn bad that I could hardly wait. I was tempted to come and stand
in the shadows and look at you.”

“What a lovely thing to say.” Her eyes were luminous, her lips trembling.

“This is strange new ground for me, Jesse. I’ve never courted a woman before.”

“Didn’t you consult with Grandpa Lester?” she asked with mock seriousness, then laughed when he smiled.

He couldn’t seem to say anything. He stared into her jewel-like blue-gray eyes, which were filled with what could only be
the pleasure of being in his company. His breath caught and his heart almost stopped at the thought of it. Could he really
be sitting with her like this—on her front porch—in Harpersville?

“Jesse, Jesse, Jesse.” He whispered her name over and over, his voice deep, resonant with longing. “I was deathly afraid to
come even though you said I would be welcome.”

For a moment she saw old memories, old hurts in the eyes that devoured her face. The hurt reached across the years, and she
felt the pain that must have been in his boyish heart the day his father was hanged in the town square.

This great oak tree of a man was actually trembling beneath her touch. He had come down out of the hills and into the town
that had rejected him and his family for years dressed in what he thought would be acceptable to come courting. He was so
vulnerable—baring his heart, his pride, offering to fit himself into what he thought she wanted him to be. His willingness
to do so filled her heart with joy.

With unsteady fingers Jesse reached for the string tie and slowly pulled it from under the collar of his shirt. Her eyes held
his captive while she wrapped it around her fingers and stuffed it in his breast pocket. Slowly she unbuttoned the collar
on his shirt and then the second button that revealed his sun-browned throat. With utmost care, to prevent scratching his
neck, she pulled free the detachable stiff high collar.

“Now… you look more like… like the Wade who met me in the woods and told me he was not the least bit disappointed in me.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his eyes become softer, greener.

“You remembered that.” He managed a dry whisper.

“I remember every word.”

He fitted his palm to hers, gently threaded his large, calloused fingers through her slender soft ones, then curled them down
over her hand. She placed her other hand over his as if to lock them together. They smiled into each other’s eyes, then looked
down at the symbol of their joining.

“Shall we walk?”

She nodded. “I know the perfect place.”

They walked down the steps, his arm holding her close to his side. Feeling as light as a billowing cloud, he pulled her hand
into the crook of his arm and heaved a trembling sigh of relief. At last he had found the part of himself that had been lost
for such a long time.

Pauline came out of the house with two large glasses of lemonade. The first thing she noticed was the hat in the swing, then
the stiff white collar beside it. She was puzzled until she saw Jesse and Wade strolling slowly down the walk, his head bent
toward hers, hers tilted to his.

Land-a-goshen! The hill man has finally come to call. The gossips will have their tongues going before dark.

She placed one glass of lemonade on the porch railing and, sipping from the other, sat down in the swing and rocked gently.
She was glad, so glad for Jesse. Her friend had been utterly miserable for the past few days even though she had not mentioned
Wade’s name. Pauline was reasonably sure that Jesse had not wanted to fall in love with the hill man. Yet, there the two of
them were, together.

Pauline’s feet continued to push the swing as weepy waves of loneliness seeped into her heart.

A
s if she were walking on air, Jesse followed the path with Wade at her side. In the distance she heard the sound of the tin
can bouncing on the brick street and her brother’s shouts to his friends. When a topless buggy passed by, the horse’s iron
shoes ringing on the brick paving, Jesse waved her hand automatically, indifferent to the gaping occupants and the heads that
turned to gawk at them.