Deborah Camp (11 page)

She saw the buggy and the wagon bobbing along the road, then turning off onto the lane leading to the house. Zanna stuffed her handkerchief back into her apron pocket and sat forward, straining to see against the misting rain. Who could that be? she wondered, rising from the rocker to move to the edge of the porch. Not Duncan. Not Theo. She mentally crossed off several other names before the vehicles drew close enough to identify one of them by the red-spoked wheels. Only one person she knew had a buggy like that—Lilimae Landers … rather, Lilimae Runtby. Lilimae had claimed Elmer Runtby from the Scyene jail six months ago and had married him.

Oh, Lord. They’re not
…

The wagon held a similar couple. Darnella and Stubby Jennings, married three months ago after Darnella met Stubby at the jail.

…
coming here thinking we can all be chummy because we’re wives cut from the same cloth!

A pulse beat frantically in Zanna’s throat. Birds of a feather flocking together. What should she do? Maybe Grandy would stay inside, asleep and out of harm’s way. She’d make excuses and send them on their way.

Lilimae raised a hand and her voice chimed across the
flat land. “H’lo, Suzanna! We come for a visit! Darnella and me decided you weren’t going to ask us, so we’d just have to barge in on you.”

“Well … I …” Zanna looked from Darnella to Lilimae and knew that turning them away would be about as easy as talking sense to a charging bull. “I was just enjoying this pretty Sunday. Won’t y’all have a seat?” She motioned toward the swing and two other chairs. “It’s nice and cool here on the porch.”

“Where’s your mister?” Stubby asked, running a hand over the stiff whiskers on his cheeks and chin.

“He’s inside,” Zanna said, adding when the two men started for the door, “napping! He’s asleep. He’s been feeling poorly.”

“He sure didn’t look it this morning in church,” Darnella said with a twitter. “Did he, Lilimae?”

“Lord, no! If he looks that good under the weather, I can’t wait to see him when he’s feeling as fine as a frog hair.” She giggled, but stopped abruptly when Elmer sent her a scowl. “ ’Course pretty looks aren’t everything. I’d rather sit on a broke-in saddle than a new one.”

Elmer puffed out his chest and pursed his mouth to keep from grinning from ear to ear. “So he ain’t coming out here to greet us?”

Zanna pulled out her handkerchief and twisted it. “Well, Elmer, he’s—”

“Company calling, darlin’?”

Zanna’s gaze flew in the direction of the pronounced drawl. Grandy stepped through the doorway and onto the porch. He looked anything but poorly: hazel eyes sparkling, sandy hair tousled, thumbs hooked jauntily behind his new black suspenders, and a smile that could melt ice. She tied the handkerchief into knots. The silence stretched until Zanna realized they were all waiting for introductions.

“Oh! Grandville, this is Elmer and Lilimae Runtby and Stubby and Darnella Jennings.”

“Glad to meet you folks,” Grandy said, shaking hands with each man. “Call me Grandy, why don’t you.”

“Zanna says you’re sick,” Lilimae said, slanting a sly look toward Zanna.

“Sick?” Grandy looked surprised, then he reached out and hooked his hand around Zanna’s neck and pulled her to his side. “Why, honey, I’m not sick. I’m just a mite tired. Me and the missus have been burning the midnight oil, don’t you know.”

If she’d been a two-by-four, she wouldn’t have been any stiffer at his side. Zanna noticed the queer looks Lilimae and Darnella were giving her. She hated thinking they would tattle in town that she and her husband were strangers, so she forced her arm up until it rested at his waist and she looked up at him with what she hoped was wifely adoration.

“Grandy, how you go on,” she said, breathless with the energy it took to continue her charade. “Quiet now. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Am I?” He looked down into her upturned face and glided his fingertips over her downy-soft cheek, where roses bloomed. “So I am. Sorry, sweetheart.” He pursed his lips and touched them to the tip of her nose. Zanna closed her eyes, willing herself not to bolt and run like a frightened doe. “I’d offer you boys something to put hair on your chests, but the law won’t let me buy any and Zanna keeps forgetting to get me a bottle when she’s in town.”

“We know all about that,” Elmer said, winking. “We’re hanging husbands, too.”

“Go on,” Grandy scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Stubby chimed in, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “We’re brothers of a sort, I reckon.”

“Well, don’t that beat all.” Grandy chuckled and massaged the back of Zanna’s neck. “Hanging husbands. Is that what people call us?”

“Nice people call us that,” Elmer said. “Other people call us a lot worse.”

“But, hey, brother!” Stubby cackled like a hen. “Don’t worry none about having no refreshments.” He glanced at the wagon that had brought him. “I got some bottles stuffed under that hay. Would you like a swig or two?”

“You bet! I’m so dry I have to prime myself to spit.”

“Grandville,” Zanna said, edging away from his massaging fingers, “I don’t think you should drink on the Sabbath.”

“Aw, honey,” he said, touching a forefinger to the damp place where his lips had been. “The Lord will turn the other cheek if you will.”

“Let the boys wet their whistles,” Darnella said, giving a curt nod toward the door. “We women will go inside for some tea sipping and story spinning.”

“Y’all do that,” Grandy said, giving Zanna a little push toward the front parlor.

Zanna cast a warning glare over her shoulder, but went inside like a dutiful hostess. The other two women joined her in the kitchen where she put on water to boil for tea. They sat at the table to wait.

“Your place is pretty,” Lilimae said, looking around. “The rooms are so big. Why, my place is a tobacco pouch compared to this.”

“Should be nice,” Darnella said. “Fayne Hathaway was a wealthy man.” Her sly, narrow-eyed gaze slipped to Zanna. “Guess it’s different, huh?”

“What’s different?” Zanna asked, wringing the handkerchief.

“Going from an old man to a young one,” Darnella said, then grinned when Lilimae cackled: “Must be like changing from a child’s pony to a stallion going to stud.”

Zanna’s face felt like a lit stove. As she twisted the handkerchief, she heard a few embroidery stitches pop.

“We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Darnella said, placing a hand on Zanna’s forearm. “Loosen up, honey, it’s just us girls. You can talk to us, can’t you?
After all, we know what you’re going through. We’ve both been there.”

“It’s hard at first,” Lilimae said, fixing a look of concern on her long, horsey face. “Being with a stranger and all. But things get better.”

“They sure do!” Darnella giggled, high and thin like the screech of an owl. “I didn’t think my Stubby was much to look at, but with the lights off he gets better looking.”

Though Zanna smiled, she was mortified. Did they expect her to share private, personal experiences with them?

“Same thing with Elmer. I know he’s older than Stubby, but the miles on him are good ones.” Lilimae’s blue eyes glittered like jewels. “He’s taught me a few tricks. That’s the thing about these hanging husbands, Zanna. They’ve been around and they know all about pillow pleasure.”

“She’s right,” Darnella agreed, her head bouncing up and down like that of a mule trotting at a good clip. “Doing it the normal way won’t keep them interested. You’ve got to open up your mind, close your eyes, and forget you’re a lady because …”

“… we ain’t no gentlemen,” Stubby said, then took another swig of the rotgut. “But we ain’t chicken poop neither.”

Grandy leaned back against the side of the wagon, one leg outstretched in the hay and the other bent at the knee so that he could prop the whiskey bottle on it. He gripped the neck and brought the bottle to his mouth again. The stuff was liquid dynamite, coursing through him like a flash fire, its fumes reminding him of crowded bars, loose women, and decks of cards. God, how he missed all that!

“We was lucky,” Elmer said, reaching for the second bottle. “We would have swung if it weren’t for the ladies.”

“But they got something good in the bargain,” Stubby pointed out. “They got themselves husbands during a man
shortage. There’s nothing worse than a woman over eighteen and unbridled. We done them a big favor.”

Grandy smiled. “I like the way you boys think.” He took another big swallow of the liquor. “And I like your ‘gut warmer’ too.”

“So tell me,” Stubby said, hitching closer to Grandy and grinning like a coyote with its eye on a hen coop. “How is she? I told Elmer that she might look as stiff as a corset and about as much fun as a ride on a cactus, but I figure she’s sweet molasses underneath the covers. I’m right, ain’t I?”

Grandy poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek and let it slide around while he stalled for time. Should he come out with the truth? Should he tell the boys that his new missus would sooner let him swing than let him near her? No, he thought. He had to save face. After all, he had his reputation to consider.

“He ain’t talking,” Elmer observed with a cagey squint. “She must be damned good if he ain’t talking.”

Grandy hoisted the bottle in a silent toast to Elmer’s timely interference. “She’s something else,” he said, thinking that at least
that
was true. “Here’s to desperate women.”

“Yeah!” Stubby snatched the other bottle away from Elmer. “Here’s to ’em. There’s nothing better than a sex-starved female.”

Grandy coughed up some of the fumes and his eyes watered. “Sex starved? Your woman is sex starved?”

“Well, not anymore,” Stubby said, glancing at Elmer.

“No, we fixed their wagons, didn’t we?” Elmer grinned, showing yellow teeth with four missing in front. “That Lilimae keeps me hopping. Morning and evening, every day.”

“Every day?” Grandy repeated, boggled.

“Hell, that ain’t nothing,” Stubby said, batting a hand toward Elmer. “My Darnella wants it as regular as a goose goes barefoot.
Begs
me for it. She bats them eyes and says,
’Oh, please, sugar man! I know you’re give out, but I’m like a graveyard—I’ll take anything you bring me.’”

Grandy doubled over in laughter, one arm pressed against his tender ribs. He took another drink, then passed the bottle. “She says that, does she?”

“Sure does,” Stubby said, then sucked on the bottle.

“You know, my Lilimae is so skinny she could take a bath in a gun barrel, but she knows how to sling that stuff.” Elmer flung his hands behind his head and stared up at the cloudy sky. “First time I saw her in the altogether, I thought …”

“… Lord have mercy, he’s got more wrinkles than a load of wash!” Lilimae said, then released a peal of laughter that made Zanna and Darnella join in.

“What did you think when you saw your Grandville the first night?” Darnella asked, then sipped her tea noisily as her eyes danced above the cup’s rim.

“I … what did I think?” Zanna repeated, her mind scrambling. “Lots of things, I suppose.”

“Oh, you’re such a shy thing,” Lilimae scolded. “Dish the dirt, hon. It helps to talk about it. I know we was all brought up to act like we just do it because it’s expected, but we’re all old enough to talk truth now. We like it,” Lilimae said, her upper torso swinging in a semicircle as her gaze swept across Zanna’s flushed face and Darnella’s shiny one.

“Like it?” Darnella scoffed. “I
love
it!”

“There,” Lilimae said, landing the flat of her hand on the table. “Darnella’s being honest. How about you, Zanna?”

Zanna stared at the knotted handkerchief as dark memories swelled up. “I … guess …” She looked up, desperate to escape the inquisition. “More tea, anyone?”

“Oh, fiddle-dee-foo!” Lilimae sat back in obvious disgust. “You think you’re too good to gossip with us? Is that it?”

“Lilimae, don’t go on,” Darnella said, patting Zanna’s wringing hands. “Some women simply can’t talk about their men. My sister can’t. When I told Clara about me and Stubby playing schoolmarm and naughty student, she about busted a gut!”

“Clara always has been a dry well,” Lilimae said.

Zanna jumped up to grab the teakettle and refill the cups. As crazy images flashed through her mind of Stubby and Darnella playacting like two precocious children, she shuddered. Never in her born days would she have thought that these two women were such … such trollops! How could they enjoy such things and show their faces in church on Sundays?

“Well, I don’t care what anybody says,” Lilimae said, crossing her arms with stubborn disdain. “I’m thankful Elmer landed in jail and I had enough sense to claim him. Say what you want about hanging husbands, but the men who have lived on the other side of the law make life interesting. It’s like living with a wild bronc. You never know which way he’s going to kick.”

“That’s right,” Darnella said, squealing again. “My heart sprouts wings when I hear my Stubby say, ‘Sugar lips, I’m inclined to get you reclined, so let’s—Oh!” Darnella pressed one hand to her mouth and her eyes widened a fraction. “I didn’t see you there!”

The other two women whirled around to confront the interloper. Grandy grinned crookedly—and, Zanna thought, a bit drunkenly—and stepped further into the kitchen.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but it’s threatening a gully-washer out there and your husbands said they’d better get you home. Sugar melts when it gets wet, you know.”

Darnella squeaked like a door hinge. Lilimae’s face turned the color of wild cherries. Zanna tried to burn holes into Grandy with her eyes, but he was impervious. He stepped back and swept one arm across his body.

“After you, my beauties.”

Darnella and Lilimae giggled and scurried from the kitchen to where their husbands waited in the front room.

“We certainly enjoyed your visit,” Grandy said, reaching back to snag Zanna’s elbow and pull her to his side. “Didn’t we, darlin’?”

Zanna smelled the whiskey on him and her stomach rolled over. “Yes, we did. Y’all come back and see us.”

“We’ll do that,” Elmer said, tipping his battered hat. “We’d stay longer, but it’s whipping up out there.”

“And we’re in an open wagon,” Stubby pointed out. “I don’t want my Darnella to get soaked to her pretty skin.”