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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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“What’s for supper tonight, Annie?”

Annie Waters had grown heavy with the years but was still strong. Her hair was graying now, but she was as outspoken as ever. “We’re gonna have catfish. Raimey caught ’em on the
trotline. They just about the right size. About two pounds apiece.”

“That sounds good. I’ll come in and help you as soon as I do my bookwork.”

“I ain’t needin’ no help! I take care of supper just like I always do. Ain’t nothin’ to it but bakin’ some hush puppies and fried ’tatos, and we got some poke sallet. You go on and lie down now ’til suppertime.”

“Can’t do that. I have to work.”

Annie watched as Leah left the room, and she picked up part of the corn-bread mixture and made a ball about two inches thick and plopped it down in a pan. “Always workin’. She don’t look good. She gonna work herself to death,” she fussed. She was a quick-minded woman and shook her head. Thoughts ran quickly through her, and she remembered what she had said to Merle.
“She ought to marry Mr. Castleton. He’s a state senator now and got lots of money. He’d take care of her and be a daddy to them kids.”

Now as she thought of it, the memory of Stuart and all the heartache he had caused came into her mind, and she shook her head. “He done lost his chance. Miss Leah’s a young woman. She needs a man, and them kids need a daddy. That’s all there is to it.”

Leah was well aware of Annie’s viewpoint. She herself was troubled about Mott, and as she entered the study, she sat down at the desk and tried to put it out of her mind. For a while she worked on the books, which were becoming more difficult. Times were changing. The farm had been created mostly to breed mules and horses, but the automobile and the tractor had taken away much of that market and would take more. She knew something would have to change, but she did not know how to change it.

Finally she put the pen down, placed her hands flat on the desk, and pressed her forehead against it. She could not help thinking of Mott then, for he presented a challenge to her.

Mott had married, but his wife had died two years ago of
influenza. He had deeply mourned her for a year and a half, but then he had begun seeing Leah at church and taking her home. Their relationship had suddenly changed, until finally Mott had shocked her two months earlier by asking her to marry him.

As she sat there, the conversation played itself again, as it had often, in her thoughts.

“Why, I can’t do that, Mott! I’m already married.”

“Stuart’s in jail for twenty years. He’ll be an old man when he gets out. Prison does that. He was no good for you, Leah, anyway. The kids need a dad and I need you. I was in love with you once, and now I am again.”

“But I’m married.”

“Get a divorce.”

“I don’t believe in divorce.”

“I don’t either ordinarily, but your situation is different. You’ll have to bend your principles a little bit. You need a life, and we could have a good marriage and maybe even have our own children.”

Mott had been persistent. He had changed over the years, mellowing somewhat, but he was convinced that Leah’s marrying Stuart had been a grave mistake. Mott loved Raimey and Merry and would make a good father, which was a big factor.

Abruptly the sound of an automobile approaching came to Leah, and she straightened up and then rose to go to the window. She expected Mott, but she saw it was not his car. A tall man wearing a navy blue suit got out and came up toward the steps. She waited until Annie finally came to announce the visitor.

“There’s a gentleman to see you. His name is Winslow. Must be your kinfolk.”

“Where did you put him?”

“In the parlor.”

Leah went to the parlor, and the man who faced her said at once, “My name is Tom Winslow. I’m a distant relative of your husband, Mrs. Winslow.”

Leah was caught by surprise. “Is that right?” she said briefly. She did not ask him to sit down. “What can I do for you, Mr. Winslow?”

Tom saw instantly that there was something wrong. He expected to be welcomed, and, as usual, he had made up his mind how to approach Stuart’s wife. He knew from his conversation with Stuart that the man was still in love with her and was grieved beyond belief over the way he had treated her. Tom had also heard much from Diane, so he knew the story of their difficult marriage. He had not expected, however, the hardness that he found in Leah Winslow.

“I’m here to do what I can to reopen your husband’s case.”

“What do you mean reopen it?”

“I’m hoping to prove that the sentence was not just. I would like to have the case retried.”

Reluctantly, Leah said, “Well, sit down, Mr. Winslow, and tell me about it.”

As Tom launched into his story, he was aware of the coolness in the woman’s eyes. He was struck with her beauty, for at the age of thirty-three, she looked at least five years younger. She was wearing a pair of men’s jeans, which was somewhat shocking, but he had heard that she worked with the horses a great deal, and it revealed a practical side to her.

Leah listened as her visitor spoke quickly, and finally she said, “You expect to get him out of prison?”

“That’s my prayer. It’s also his mother’s prayer,” Tom said. He hesitated and then said, “I don’t want to pry, but I’ve talked to Stuart, and I’ve talked to his people. They both tell me that he was not a good husband.”

“He was not.”

The brevity and the coldness of Leah Winslow’s reply made Tom pause for a moment. “I think he’s changed, Mrs. Winslow.”

“What makes you think so?”

She listened as Tom described his meeting with Stuart, and
then he repeated what the warden had said. “He’s convinced that he’s had a change of heart.”

“I would have to see it to believe it. I wish you well, but I must tell you this, Mr. Winslow. I hope you can get Stuart out of prison, but even if he does, I can’t have him back. He’s caused nothing but shame and disgrace.” She hesitated, and her lips grew firm, and her eyes grew hard. “He has made it very difficult for my children. The other children are not kind, and they taunt them about having a jailbird for a father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. A man can change, though.”

Leah rose and said, “Thank you for coming by. I wish you well, and I wish Stuart well . . . but when you see him, you might tell him what I just told you.”

Tom left the house feeling discouraged. She was an attractive woman and, from all accounts, a good mother and had been a good wife. He saw an adamant aspect to her character, and he shook his head, muttering aloud, “Stuart’s going to have a hard time when he hears how she feels.”

****

Mott arrived for dinner with a new pocketknife for Raimey and a doll carriage for Merry. They were both pleased with their gifts, as they always were, and Mott said to Leah, “I ought to bring you gifts.”

“Don’t do that, Mott,” she said quickly.

They sat down to a dinner of delicious panfried catfish that Annie had prepared. Mott encouraged Raimey to tell how the fishing trip had gone and then said, “You and I’ll have to go fishing for trout sometime. You’ll have to use a different kind of pole.”

“Could we, Mr. Castleton?”

“I don’t see why not. Not now, of course, but in the spring we could go.”

“Can I go, too?” Merry said.

“Why, of course. You and your mother and brother could
get a cabin up there on the river, and I could get another. We could have a real vacation there.”

As the meal progressed, Leah was quieter than usual. She was wondering what it would be like to be married to Mott Castleton. She had never felt drawn to him as she had been to Stuart, but then, no other man had so captivated her heart as did Stuart Winslow that first time she saw him playing his violin and singing at the Fourth of July dance years ago. Nevertheless, watching as her children grew excited, she wondered,
Would it be worth it to have a father for Raimey and Merry?

After the meal was over they moved to the parlor. Mott had brought a bunch of new records for the gramophone, mostly war records: “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” “Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag and Smile, Smile, Smile,” “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier.”

The war was on everyone’s mind, and once Mott shook his head as he listened to the lyrics and said, “I’ve been wondering what I’ll do when the war comes.”

“Why, you wouldn’t join the army, would you?” Leah asked with surprise.

“Well, I’m not too old. I couldn’t pace with some of these young fellows, but maybe I could do something.”

The thought troubled Leah, and she said, “There must be something you could do here at home. Going overseas to fight is for young men.”

“You’re probably right.” After that he said, “Hawaii’s big these days. I’ve got a couple of pretty cute records.” He played one called, “They’re Wearing Them Higher in Hawaii,” and then “On the Beach at Waikiki.”

Mott stayed until the children’s bedtime, and then after they went to bed, he sat in front of the fire talking quietly. Leah found herself relaxed. She knew she liked Mott much better than when he had been a younger man. She also knew that he was in love with her.

When he got up to leave, suddenly he turned to her and said, “Marry me, Leah.”

“I . . . I just don’t know, Mott.” She hesitated and then said, “I had a visitor today.”

Mott listened as Leah told him about Tom Winslow’s visit, and then he shook his head. “He may be able to get him out. I don’t know, but Stuart ruined your life once, Leah. Don’t let him do it again.” He put his arms around her suddenly, and she put her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. “Let me be a dad to the kids and a husband to you.”

He pulled her close, and Leah closed her eyes as he kissed her passionately. She tried to feel something in return, but all she knew was that she was confused.

Mott drew back and said, “Think about it. I know getting a divorce is a terrible thing, but it’s terrible for youngsters to grow up without a dad. Or maybe even worse for Merry and Raimey to have a dad whose name everybody knows in the worst possible way.”

Leah walked him to the porch and watched as he drove off; then she went back inside. She was more troubled than she had realized. Staring down into the yellow flames of the fire in the parlor, she had the feeling that time was passing her by. She was lonely, and although she did not feel for Mott what she had felt for Stuart, she knew that she once again longed to be a wife to someone who would love her and care for her children.

Finally she turned and pressed her hands against her eyes and whispered, “I made a terrible mistake once. I can’t make another!”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tom Winslow Gets Some Answers

An iron gray sky cast a dull gloom over the land as Tom Winslow walked briskly along the side street. Dead leaves had piled up high, for towering oaks and elms had dropped their foliage earlier, and now the crackling sound that Tom’s boots made broke the silence. Overhead, far to the east, a group of four buzzards circled, gliding effortlessly, and not for the first time Tom thought,
Strange that such an ugly bird can fly so beautifully. Like a lot of things, I guess they look better far off than they do up close.
His philosophy amused him, and he shook his head and turned in to a single-story white house that sat back off the street. Smoke curled upward for almost twenty feet, and then the wind caught it and bent it into what looked like a question mark. Mounting the steps, he rapped on the door and slapped his hands together, for a numbing cold was falling upon the earth. December was only three days away, and he could almost feel the snow that would soon be in the air.

The door opened and a tall, homely man stood there, his blue eyes fixed on Winslow. Almost instantly, he said, “Well, I wondered when you’d get around to me. It’s Tom Winslow, isn’t it?”

Surprised, Tom nodded. “That’s right. I don’t remember you, though.”

“I’m Ace Devainy. We ain’t met, but I figured we would. Come on in out of the cold.”

Moving inside, Tom glanced around and saw a
pleasant-looking house with a long central hall with several doors and leading to an outer door at the rear. Right then a small girl with reddish blond hair came sailing out of one of the rooms, stopping when she caught sight of the visitor.

“This is Mattie. This is Mr. Winslow, Mattie.”

Mattie smiled and then turned and said, “Can I go outside and play?”

“What did your mother say?”

“I didn’t ask her. She might say no, but you always say yes.”

Ace Devainy laughed and said, “Okay, go ahead, sweetheart. We’ll straighten it out with your ma later. Come on in by the fire. I just built it up.”

Following the rawboned man into the parlor off to the right, Tom cast a glance around. It was a comfortable room filled with horsehide furniture, yellow curtains at the windows, and pine tables scattered everywhere covered with books and magazines.

“Have a seat by the fire there. I’ve got coffee on the stove. Do you take it black?”

“Black is fine.” Tom grinned. He liked the way the man didn’t ask him
if
he wanted coffee but simply assumed that he would.

Five minutes later the two men were sitting before the fire as it snapped, crackled, and sent a myriad of golden sparks up the chimney. “I like a good fire,” Ace remarked. “I’d hate to live in a place so hot you couldn’t have one.” Without a pause, he said, “I guess you want to know about Stuart.” He held the cup in his hand, turned it around, and then after taking a sip said, “What have you found out?”

“I didn’t know my activities were so well known.”

“In a small town like this? You don’t know much about small towns, I take it. Every time a cat has a litter, everybody in the county knows about it. It gets on my nerves at times, but that’s the way it is.”

“I guess you already know that I’m trying to get a retrial or to do something to get Stuart out of prison.”

Ace’s eyes narrowed, and he ran his hand through his shaggy yellow hair. “I’d be mighty grateful if you could do that. Do you think there’s any chance?”

“In law there’s nearly always a chance. You mind if I ask you a few questions?”

BOOK: The Glorious Prodigal
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