Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (19 page)

“Yeah, well, MaryLou and I get together every morning for a little chat.” The sight of him brought back the memory of sitting close to him in the dark, his hand wrapped tightly around hers, her hip and thigh pressed snugly against his. She could feel the warmth of the blood that rushed into her face.

“I thought you'd sleep in a little later this morning.”

“I was tempted.” She stood and picked up the pail of milk.

“Are you going to feed us the hot tamales for breakfast?” Yates took the pail from her hand.

“Cold tamales and left-over deviled eggs.” She squinted up at him through thick, gold-tipped lashes, then walked ahead of him out into the early morning sunlight. On the way to the house, she stopped to let the chickens out. “Shoo, shoo—”

“There's a girl sitting on a suitcase over in the campground. I think the man she was with has run off and left her.” Yates imparted the news when Leona joined him on the back porch.

“My goodness! The poor thing.”

“I was opening the garage doors when he roared away on the cycle. Then the girl came running from the outhouse. She looked down the road then went back to where he'd left her suitcase, looked in it, then sat down and cried.”

“She's still there?”

“I asked if she wanted to come up to the garage and wait for him to come back. She was crying, but I think she said he wouldn't be back.”

“I'll take in the milk then go talk to her.”

“If you're making biscuits, I'll start the oven—on the kerosene stove. It's going to be too hot to fire up the cookstove.” He had followed her into the kitchen.

“I'd thought to have pancakes with the tamales,” she said seriously, but couldn't keep her lips from twitching.

“You're kiddin'. Aren't you?” He reached out with a finger and touched her nose. “You stubborn little dickens. You're determined not to use the kerosene oven.” A mischievous light came into his silver eyes. He looked down into her upturned face. She had pulled in her lower lip and held it between her teeth to keep from smiling.

“How did you know?”

“It wasn't hard to figure out. You even fired up the cookstove yesterday morning before we left for the city.”

“I don't know how to use that newfangled oven.”

“I'll show you.”

“While you're at it, you can make the biscuits, too,” she teased.

His forefinger went to her nose again. “Oh, no, sweetheart. That's your job.”

“I'll make your biscuits, but first I should go see about the girl down in the campground. If it's true that the man's run off and left her, it was a dirty, low-down trick!”

“She may be gone by now,” Yates said, holding open the door.

Sweetheart.
Even though the endearment was said in a teasing way, it made her feel warm and tingly Her heart wanted to sing. As they walked side by side down the path to the campground, she felt giddy, light-hearted, unable to think clearly.

The girl was sitting on her suitcase, her elbows on her thighs, her face in her hands. She hastily brushed the tears from her cheeks and stood as they approached her. She was a small, slender girl, with dark blond hair and big brown eyes, watery and swollen from crying. She wore a green-checked gingham dress, no stockings and sturdy shoes. Leona guessed her to be near her own age.

“Good morning. Would you like to come up to the house and wait for your husband to come back?”

“He isn't my husband, ma'am, and he won't be ba …ck.” She tried to keep the sobs out of her voice.

“Oh? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma'am. He took my money out of my suitcase while I was … at the privy. He won't be back.”

“My goodness. He stole your money and left you stranded?”

“Yes, ma'am. I hired him … to take me to California.” The girl plucked at her skirt with nervous fingers. “He wouldn't give it back even if the law caught him. He'd just say I owed it to him. He threatened to go off without me, but… I didn't think he'd be so …mean or if he did that he'd take my money.”

“How long have you been on the road?”

“Three days. We left from Conway, Missouri.”

“Is there anything we can do about getting her money back?” Leona looked up at Yates. He had stood back, not saying a word.

“Not much. He'll be out of the state before the deputy gets his fat…butt out of the chair. If he's caught, it's likely he'll say that she paid him to bring her this far.”

“I agreed to pay the gas and the food. I had ninety-two dollars in my suitcase.” The girl stared off down the highway. Tears were streaming from her eyes, but she didn't make a sound. “I thought it'd be enough to get me to California and keep me till I found a … job or—”

“Do you have folks back in Conway who would send you some money?” Yates had never seen anyone cry silently. It made him want to stomp the man who had abandoned her.

She shook her head. “No one that would send me a penny. My granny died and left me a hundred and eighteen dollars. It was my chance to get out of Conway.”

“How did you meet up with the fellow on the motorcycle?”

“He was from Springfield. He'd been in Conway all winter because his sister lives there. He came to the cafe where I worked. He talked about going to California and said I could go with him if I'd pay for the gas and the food. Nobody had anything bad to say about him.”

“You took a chance going off with someone you didn't know.”

“I knew his sister. She is nice. Her husband owns the feed store.”

“Have you had breakfast?” Leona thought the girl had the saddest eyes she'd ever seen. They were large and brown and bleak.

“He didn't want to build a fire and make coffee or …anything. He wanted to go to town and eat. I was afraid my money wouldn't last.”

“Come on up to the house. You don't have to decide what to do right this minute.”

“I don't want to be a bother—” She looked down the road with a worried frown. “Maybe I can hitch a ride to the next town and get a job. I cooked and waited on tables back home in the best restaurant in town.”

“The nearest town is Sayre. I don't think you'd have much of a chance finding a job in a restaurant there. There's only one and it's run by a family. Come on up to the house,” Leona invited again. “You'll feel better with some breakfast inside you.”

“I've got eighty-two cents in my pocket. I'd better not spend it.”

“Goodness gracious me! Did you think I'd charge you for breakfast?”

“I'll work for it…I'm a good cook. I can weed the garden and do your washin'.”

“We'll see. My name is Leona Dawson. This is Mr. Yates. He works in the garage.”

“Margie. Margie Kinnard.”

Yates tipped his hat and picked up her suitcase.

“There was a little man at the garage yesterday. Ernie wanted to use his tools and when he wouldn't let him use them unless he brought the motorcycle up to the garage, he was madder than all get out. Ernie's got a terrible temper. I was afraid he'd hurt him.”

Yates gave Leona a conspiratorial grin when she glanced up at him.

“Ernie might have been the one to get hurt. If he'd messed with that
little man,
Deke would have been all over him like a swarm of hornets.”

As Yates followed the women to the house and set the woman's suitcase on the porch, he was totally unaware that he was smiling more and more these days.

Chapter 16

B
Y MID-MORNING, LEONA FELT AS IF SHE HAD KNOWN MARGIE
forever. It was Margie who showed her how to use the kerosene oven while Yates was in the garage with a man who needed a fan belt for his Model A Ford.

Leona and Margie ate breakfast with the girls, then Leona cleared the table and set a place for Yates.

“I usually watch the garage while he eats,” she explained to Margie after she told her about Andy being bitten by the skunk and Yates helping out at the garage. “He can eat more biscuits than any man—”

JoBeth interrupted. “He says he could eat a tub full o' Aunt Leona's biscuits. He says they're best. He says—”

“Here we go again.” Ruth Ann rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “She tells everything she knows.”

“I do not!”

“Go see if Mr. Yates can come to breakfast,” Leona said to JoBeth, and slipped another pan of biscuits in the oven. “This oven is handy as a pocket on a shirt. It's quick and doesn't throw out nearly as much heat as the cookstove,” she admitted.

“Mr. Yates told you to use it,” Ruth Ann said stiffly. “But you wouldn't because he'd bought it.”

“Try to be pleasant this morning. Please …honey.”

“It's hard to be pleasant when everything is so different round here. Daddy's not…here and there's strangers—” The child darted a resentful look at Margie.

“That's enough, Ruth Ann.” Leona's voice was gentle, but the look she gave her young niece was not.

“I'll wash the dishes before I go.” Margie, looking as if she would cry, poured water from the teakettle into the large granite pan where Leona had stacked the soiled dishes.

“Ruth Ann will help you.”

“I can do it alone.”

“Ruth Ann will help you,” Leona said again, and waited for the girl to get up from the table and take a dry cloth before she went out the door.

Leona met Yates on the path between the house and the garage, Calvin at his heels. He paused in front of her forcing her to stop.

“Whoa. Where are you going so fast?”

“To the garage so you can eat breakfast.”

“You didn't fire up the cookstove, did you?”

“No. Margie showed me how to use
your
oven.”

“Good. It's going to be a scorcher today. Leona, I've been thinking about the girl. I'll give her a few dollars and take her to town.”

“It isn't your place to take care of everyone who stops here …like you did the Olivers. You gave them the five dollars.”

“You gave them milk and beans from the garden.”

“I had plenty. As for Margie, even if she does look like she's a girl, she's at least my age.”

“That old?” He lifted his brows; his lips quirked at the corners. “Then she's ancient. Must be about twenty-two or three.” He was so charming when he teased that her heart almost jumped out of her chest.

“She doesn't need a walking stick, yet,” Leona retorted sassily. She couldn't take her eyes from his face. “I hate to put her out on the road to hitchhike. She seems so nice and …trusting.”

“Nice and trusting, but foolish to go on a trip with a man she barely knows.”

“Maybe he was the lesser threat. She may have a Virgil in her family.”

“Did she say so?”

“No. Ruth Ann's nose is out of joint because she's here. The poor child resists any change. She resented you when you first came here.”

“If I remember right, she wasn't the only one.”

“Well.” Leona pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. “You were rather obnoxious.”

With his eyelids partially closed, he leaned forward and studied her soft mouth, then asked in a husky whisper, “And now?”

She swallowed hard, but her eyes remained unflinchingly on his. “Some, but not quite so much.”

Somehow her hand was caught in his. For a long moment she stood perfectly still. So did Yates. The sounds of cars on the highway filtered into her mind bringing her back to the present.

“I think I'll ask Margie to stay for a few days.” She forced herself to speak calmly. “It will give her time to decide what to do and she can help me with the canning.”

“It's up to you. Don't forget that you know nothing about her.”

“I didn't know anything about you when you came to stay.” The eyes that looked into his brightened with amusement.

“You would bring that up.” A smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

“I can use her help. I've got a tub full of beans to can and …the tomatoes are coming on. I'll be making chowchow out of the green ones now and chili sauce later. I usually put up a bushel of peaches, then cucumber pickles.” She paused momentarily enraptured by the curve of his lips, then finished in a rush. “I've got a cellar full of jars to fill up.”

“You work too hard.”

“My job is to keep house and look after the girls. I don't really consider it a job. It's a privilege.”

“I hope Andy knows what a treasure he has here.” He squeezed her hand, dropped it and walked away.

Her eyes widened in surprise at his sudden departure. She turned to see him stepping up onto the porch. Calvin, disappointed that Yates was going into the house, dropped down beside the door.

Leona went on to the garage and sat down on the bench in the shade. She pressed a trembling hand to her midriff, hoping pressure would calm the roiling in her insides. A car passed on the highway. Someone waved. She absently waved back.

Careful, she cautioned herself. Yates is a loner. He had as much as told her so. He's staying here to help Andy, and a little flirtation on the side would make the time go faster. She couldn't afford to allow him to worm his way into her heart. He had been moving, drifting for years and would continue to do so. It was the way he wanted it. When Andy returned, he would leave. When that happened, she didn't want to be left with a broken heart.

From now on she had to keep her guard up.

The day had gone fast. True to Yates's prediction it had been a scorcher. In the late afternoon, the girls, in old cut-off union suits, had gotten into the big tank beside the barn. Margie was watching them, leaving Leona free to make a cobbler for supper using one of the last jars of peaches she had canned last summer.

She was pleased with the day's accomplishments. With Margie's help, the green beans were picked, the tomatoes and cucumber plants watered. Empty jars had been brought up from the cellar and washed for the next day's canning. Margie had milked MaryLou, fed the livestock and gathered the eggs.

“Sit down,” Leona had insisted when she brought the basket to the house. “You've been working all day. Sit in the shade and keep an eye on the girls in the tank. I'm afraid to leave them out there alone.” Leona covered the crock with a plate where she had placed sliced cucumbers and onions to soak in a vinegar mixture.

Later, when she heard Yates on the front porch, she called, “Come on in.”

She was putting the cobbler in the kerosene oven when he strode into the kitchen.