Dorothy Garlock (21 page)

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Authors: More Than Memory

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“Want to try it?”
“No, thanks! My idea of boating is drifting among the lily pads in a rowboat on a shallow lake.”
“Sissy,” he scoffed. “I don’t suppose you’ve been ice fishing either. The ice isn’t thick enough now to move the icehouses out, but in another few weeks, dozens of icehouses of all sizes and all shapes will be out on the ice.”
“I can’t see that it would be much fun to sit out there on the ice looking down a hole.”
“Some of the icehouses have heaters, and some have battery-powered lights for night fishing. I’ve seen lights out on the lake at two and three o’clock in the morning.”
Nelda laughed. “Only a dedicated fisherman would spend the night on a cold frozen lake.”
Their meal was served. Norris joked with the waitress in an impersonal way, and she clearly loved it. Nelda enjoyed his company. He wasn’t the
wolf
he pretended to be at Rhetta’s party. He was a warm, considerate companion who, Nelda suspected, was very lonely.
“What are you doing Thanksgiving?” he asked.
“I’ve not given it any thought.”
“I’ve a business meeting in Minneapolis on Friday after Thanksgiving. I’ll go up there on Wednesday. Will you be alone?”
“Probably, but I’m used to it.”
She looked around Witke’s restaurant with a professional eye and decided the decorators hadn’t done badly, considering what they had to work with. She said as much to Norris, then told him about decorating the nightclub for Aldus Falerri and smiled when he gave a snort of disgust.
“I take it you’re not a bosom pal of Mr. Falerri.”
“You take it right. He’s bad news. I hope you got paid for your work.”
“Elite Decorators was responsible for collecting for the job. They must have collected because I got my commission. Hey, look. It’s snowing.”
“So it is. How about doing some cross-country
skiing before I go north? That is, if there’s enough snow.”
“Sounds like fun, but I don’t have skis.”
“That’s no problem.”
Large fluffy flakes were coming down when Norris turned up the lane to the farmhouse. He parked close to the house, and Nelda could hear Kelly barking inside.
“Would that dog jump someone breaking into your house?”
“I don’t know. He’s never been tried. He’d certainly bite someone trying to get in the car.”
“He’s territorial. My guess is that if you indicated you were frightened, he’d protect you. That relieves my mind some. I don’t like to think of you out here alone.”
“It’s good of you to be concerned,” she said, and meant it. “Kelly lets me know if a rabbit runs across the yard.”
When she put her hand on the door handle, he got out of the car, came around, and opened the door. Holding tightly to her arm so that she would not slip on the snow, he walked her to the door.
“Shall we do this again?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
“If this snow keeps up, we should have enough to cross-country ski. I’ll give you a call.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“It was my pleasure.”
• • •
On Monday morning there were three inches of snow on the ground, and at noon it started snowing again.
Nelda attached Kelly to the fifty-foot rope she had tied to the tree trunk and watched him frolic in the snow. When he was ready to come in she let him onto the porch and unhooked him from the rope. He shook himself vigorously.
In the afternoon she had a call from Mr. Hutchinson telling her that he had spoken to Chief Larsen about the obscene calls. Since the farm was out of his jurisdiction, Chief Larsen had suggested that she inform the county sheriff.
“Write the sheriff’s number down and leave it beside the telephone,” Earl suggested. “I spoke with Bob Halford at the telephone company, and he says there isn’t much they can do about tracing the calls.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Lute was in here this morning—” Earl began.
“—Oh, no! He found my dog on the road and brought him back. While he was here, I got one of those calls. Two in fact. He heard the second one.”
“He’s ready to tear someone apart.”
“He’s overreacting. It’s really none of his business. Mr. Huchinson, have you seen anything of Linda Branson? I tried to call her and was told her phone had been disconnected.”
“You’re on a private line?”
“Oh, yes. I requested one and was lucky enough to get it.”
“Linda came to see me this morning. She wants to take nurses’ training. Her husband is dead set against it. She’s not ready quite yet to break with him; she fears what he will do, and she’s afraid of what it will do to her boy.”
“Coming to you was the first step. It took courage.”
“I told her to come see me when she decided what she wanted to do, that help was available.”
It was evening when the phone rang again. Nelda was almost afraid to answer it, but curiosity outweighed her fear.
“Hello, ladybug.”
“Norris!”
“You sound like you’re glad to hear from me.”
“Well, of course I am.”
“Ready to go cross-country tomorrow?”
“If I had skis.”
“I’ll bring a pair. How about two o’clock?”
“Fine, if you’ll stay and have chili with me when we get back.”
“Best offer I’ve had all day. See you tomorrow.”
Nelda was smiling when she went to the small freezer in the refrigerator, took out a package of hamburger, and placed it the sink to thaw.
• • •
When Nelda woke and looked out her window, the landscape was pristine white and still. She heard the sound of a tractor, then Kelly whining to go out. She put on her slippers and robe and went down stairs, clipped Kelly’s collar to the end of the rope, and opened the porch door. The space between the barn and the house had been cleared of snow and the tractor driven by Lute’s hired man was chugging down the lane to the road.
While her coffee perked, she ran back up to her bedroom and dressed in a pair of slacks and a
pullover sweater. When she went to the door to let Kelly in, she was surprised to see Lute playing in the snow with her dog. He was tossing a stick in the air, and Kelly was making a halfhearted attempt to catch it.
Where had he come from? He was wearing his sheepskin coat and that blasted blue knit cap. She hadn’t heard his truck drive in. Nelda backed away from the door, determined to ignore him.
When her coffee was ready, she poured a cup and went upstairs. After making her bed, she laid out the clothes for her afternoon with Norris, killing time until Lute left the farm.
Standing at the window drinking her coffee, she saw Lute on horseback riding down the lane. He hadn’t come to the house. She was both relieved and disappointed as she went down to let Kelly back in.
• • •
The temperature was only ten above, but Nelda found herself sweating from the exertion of shuffling the light skis over the loose snow. She pulled off her muffler, and then, still too warm, partially unzipped her down jacket. The feel of cold air rushing against her throat and chest was exhilarating.
She followed along behind Norris, who slowed his pace to accommodate hers, until they reached the crest of a hill and surveyed the countryside below. Spread before them was a panorama of farmhouses surrounded by windbreaks—tightly branched black pine trees all lined up in orderly rows along the property squares.
Nelda’s eyes quickly singled out Lute’s house
and dwelled there for a long moment. To the southeast they could see the tall, rounded, concrete silos of the grain elevator. The scene was like a Christmas card in shades of green-on-white and white-on-white, interrupted only by an occasional red barn.
Norris was silent while they rested, and Nelda was consumed by a feeling of belonging, a rarity for her. She loved this place, this life, this view.
Dear God
, she thought,
I’ll be going back to Chicago in the spring. But I’ll return to it often in my mind
.
“You okay?” Norris had moved up beside her and was searching her face.
“Sure.” She lifted a hand and pointed. “There’s my farm. My barn needs painting. I hadn’t noticed it before.”
“You like it here, don’t you?”
“I love it here, but I don’t belong. I realized that the other night at Rhetta’s. I had not one thing to add to the conversation.”
“Do you think that’s important?” His serious blue eyes were on a level with hers.
“It is if you want to fit into a community.”
“Listen, little girl, you don’t need to take a backseat to anyone. You’d fit into this community. There are people here who talk about things other than hogs and cows.”
“You’re good for a girl’s morale, Norris.”
“Something else is bothering you. No, don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out.” He reached out and zipped up her jacket, winding the muffler about her neck. “Let’s go home and eat that chili.”
Home. There was that word again. Not too long
ago she’d thought that Iowa and her grandparents’ farmhouse might become her home. Now she didn’t know just where her home might be. The word had rolled so easily off Norris’s tongue, but its meaning was still to be resolved.
Guiltily bringing her attention back to Norris, she inwardly acknowledged how grateful she was for his friendship at this particular time in her life. She unhappily faced the fact that her heart would forever belong to Lute, even if he didn’t want it. Sometimes in the dark of night she was so lonely for him, and the thought of the years ahead without him so painful, that she wondered if it might almost be better to die than to feel this way. She could begin to plan for her future again only when morning shed its light on the subject.
She plunged her ski poles into the snow and pushed off. The vigorous exercise felt good. As they moved lightly over the snow, the silence complete, they seemed to be in another world.
Nelda laughed aloud when she scared up a jackrabbit, who went bounding helter-skelter over the white landscape. Losing her balance, she fell and lay sprawled in the light, fluffy, whipped-cream snow laughing until Norris returned to help her back onto her skis.
Kelly was delighted to see them when they returned, and Norris frolicked with him in the snow. When Nelda went to the porch to call the two playmates in for dinner, Lute’s truck was coming down the lane. He stopped at the barn and got out. Norris
yelled a greeting. Lute responded and disappeared inside the barn.
After the meal Nelda beat Norris soundly at a game of Chinese checkers, then accused him of being a poor loser when he refused a rematch.
“How about blackjack?” he asked hopefully.
“Sure. That’s my game. I remember cards. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I detest smart women,” he teased, getting up to take his coat from the hall tree. “You’re still in love with Lute, aren’t you?”
Nelda was stunned into silence.
“Why do you say that?” she asked tightly.
“It was obvious to me the night I met you.” He smiled at her anger, and his hand came out to clasp hers.
“Oh . . .” she wailed.
“Don’t worry. You hid it well. But I’m Norris, the womanizer, remember? It’s my predatory nature to know if a woman will go to bed with me, or if she’s pining for another man, or if she’ll go to bed with me in spite of the fact that she’s in love with another man and wants to try and get him out of her system.”
Nelda put her fingers over his lips. “Norris Smithfield, never in a million years will you make me believe you’re a predatory man. You’re a fraud!”
His hand cupped the back of her head and drew it to his shoulder in a brief hug.
“I’m going to Minneapolis tomorrow. I won’t be back until next week. I’ll give you a call.”
“I enjoyed the outing. Thank you for taking me.”
“Thanks for the chili . . . and the heartburn that will follow.”
“Next time I’ll make meat loaf.”
“You mean I was such a gentleman that you’ll invite me again? My, won’t Rhetta be surprised?”
“Go on with you. Have a safe trip to Minneapolis.”
Nelda stood in the kitchen window until Norris passed the house headed up the lane. He honked, and she waved.
• • •
Nelda woke early on Thanksgiving morning with a sore throat and a headache. She got up, let Kelly out, took a few aspirins, and made a cup of tea while she waited to let Kelly back in.
She brought down a blanket and a pillow and lay on the living-room couch. She hadn’t felt this rotten in a long time. The next time she got up to let Kelly out she would take her temperature, she promised herself.
She dozed, woke, and dozed again.
The phone rang, and she roused herself to answer it, walking into the kitchen with bare feet.

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