Love Finds You in Daisy, Oklahoma (32 page)

—Josephine Collins, Age Eleven

Rena arrived home overcome with emotion. She swung wide the door of the house and was startled to see that the children had already arrived home from school. Adding to the chaos, Jonathan was there as well. He took one look at her and rushed to her side.

“Rena, are you all right?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not.”

“Should I fetch the doctor?” He put his palm on her forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. Do you have the flu?”

“I wish.” She dissolved into tears. “What I have is…fatal!” She began to sob.

“I’m going for the doctor right now. Whatever you do, don’t move. Just rest until I get back.”

She tried to speak but could not. He shot through the door, his face ashen.

The children gathered round, looking terrified. Rena tried to stop the flow of tears, but they would not cease.

Josephine looked on, her eyes growing large. “Miss Rena, what happened? Did somebody die?”

“N–no!” Rena drew a deep breath and tried to calm down. She hadn’t intended for the children to see her like this. Still, what could she do?

Josephine and the other girls grabbed her by the hands and pulled her inside. Seconds later, they were all seated at the dining room table, bawling.

“W–why are we c–crying?” Lilly wailed at long last.

“I—I don’t know!” Callie sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Rena did her best to calm down so that she could alleviate their fears. Still, she must confront them. Surely these little monsters had done this. They had written those letters, or her name wasn’t Rena Jewel. Then again, she wasn’t sure what her name was right now. Mud, from the looks of things.

By now the boys had joined them. Most looked terrified to find her in such a state. They gathered around, and Henry asked if he could do anything to help.

“Yes.” She sucked in a breath and said, “Tell me who wrote those awful letters, and don’t lie to me!”

What happened next was proof positive they’d done the deed. She’d never seen a room clear so quickly. In seconds, the only two who remained were Henry and Josephine—and Josephine now wailed louder than ever.

Rena, horrified to learn the truth, rose from her chair and headed upstairs. She needed privacy. She needed time to think. Moments later, she was closed in her bedroom with the door locked. She flung her body onto the bed and began to cry in earnest.

She heard a rap on the door and ignored it.

“Miz Rena,” Henry’s voice sounded. “Please. Can we talk to you?”

“P–pretty p–please, Miss R–rena,” Josephine added between sobs.

“No.” She paused to blow her nose. “Not now.”

They would not go away. One of them—Henry, likely, judging from the knock—was persistent. She finally relinquished and opened the door. Josephine stepped inside the room first with Henry right behind her.

“Miss Rena…” Josephine grabbed her hand. “Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I never ever thought you would cry. We just thought…”

“What did you think?” she asked, her harsh words laced with anger. “That you would humiliate me in front of people I’ve grown to care about? That you would get me so upset I would actually want to leave this town and never return?”

“But you cain’t leave Daisy.” This time it was Henry who spoke. “You just cain’t. Those letters weren’t s’posed to get you to leave. They were s’posed to make you stay!”

“Well, they’ve done just the opposite. I want to pack my bags and head back to Mississippi, where I can still show my face in public. Because that’s one thing I’ll never be able to do around here again.”

Henry leaned against the door, his eyes now misty. “I–I’m so sorry, Miss Rena. Please don’t go.”

“Please!” Josephine cried. “You’re like a mama to me! If you go away, I don’t know what I’ll do!” She dissolved into tears.

Rena tried to gather her wits about her. She looked back and forth between the two youngsters, a mixture of emotions rushing over her. If what Henry had said was true, they weren’t trying to hurt her. They thought the letters would make her want to stay put. But why had they done it? What had they hoped to accomplish? And how had they managed to write such convincing letters?

“A new director is coming in May, remember?” she said. “Surely the sheriff can look after you until then.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. After a few moments her breathing steadied. She hoped her voice would do the same. “One thing I simply must know.”

Josephine sniffled. “W–what?”

“However did you write such grown-up letters? Your choice of words was so convincing, so educated. I understand the beautiful handwriting. Miss Jamison has often bragged on your penmanship, Josephine, but however did you choose the wording?”

“Oh, that.” Henry worried the carpet with the toe of his shoe. “We, um, well…”

She looked at the boy, knowing in her heart of hearts that he could not have composed those letters. But someone had done it. Who?

Before they could respond, Oliver appeared in the open doorway, followed by the twins, then Mochni and several of the others. Callie wormed her way from the back of the troop to enter, as well.

“I know how they did it, Miss Rena,” she said. “They used the words in your stories.”

“My stories?” A new wave of fear washed over Rena at this revelation.

“Yes.” Callie reached under the pillow and came out with the notebook.

Rena grabbed it from her, horrified.

Josephine’s little face lit up, though tears still glistened in her eyes. “Your stories are so romantical. Heroes and damsels in distress. And the way they talk to each other is so lovely.” She appeared to swoon. “Ooh, so lovely! That’s how we knew what to say!”

“Wait.” Rena shook her head, confused. “You’re telling me that you took my very words and used them in those letters?”

“Yes.” Henry sighed. “It’s true.”

“Remember that line in the first letter?” Josephine asked. “The one where the sheriff said”—here, she put on a deep male voice—“‘If you would allow me to admire you from afar while I work up the courage to speak my mind, I would be overcome with happiness.’”

“Y–yes.”

Henry pursed his lips. “Heck. Ya gotta know I coulda never come up with words like that. Not in a month of Sundays. But Gerald the Ranger said that very thing to Rosalinda, the woman he rescued from the runaway train. Remember? He wanted her to know that he loved her but was afraid to say it out loud.”

She’d been had, but not in the way she’d suspected. They had read her stories and used them against her. Only, it sounded as if they had really used them
for
her, in their own strange way. Their hearts were in the right place, anyway.

“When we read your stories, we put two and two together and figured…” Henry’s words faded away.

“That’s how we knew you were in love with the sheriff.” Callie bounced up and down. “See? He’s Gerald and you’re Rosalinda.” Her nose wrinkled. “Only, he didn’t really rescue you from a train, did he?”

“Nah, silly.” Henry gave her a shove. “But he did pick her up at the train station that first day, so I’m guessin’ that’s why she wrote all that.” He gazed at Rena. “Is that right?”

She closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. This couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Or could it?

She opened her eyes. “Let me ask you children another question: Did you tell the sheriff about my stories? Stories with a Ranger named Gerald and a woman named Rosalinda?”

“Oh, sure. Told him awhile back.” Henry chuckled. “But he said I must be lyin’, ’cause the Rena he knows is far too sensible for that.”

All the boys and girls started laughing, but Rena didn’t join them. In fact, she suddenly felt the room spin as her emotions kicked in once more. She shooed the children from her room and started crying all over again.

A few minutes later, another rap sounded at the door. She hollered out, “Go away!” but the door opened anyway. Rena looked up to discover Reuben, Sadie, and Virginia standing there.

“Oh, you poor, dear girl.” Virginia headed her way and sat down on the bed next to her. She attempted to slip her arm around Rena’s shoulders, but Rena did not wish to be touched.

“We passed Jonathan coming into town,” Sadie said. “He’d gone to fetch the doctor.”

“Ugh!” Rena groaned.

“Don’t worry,” Sadie said. “I told him it wasn’t necessary.”

“Did you tell him anything else?” Rena asked.

“Of course not, silly.”

“Good. Because that would just be too much to take.” Rena blew her nose into her hankie and swabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she reached under the bed for her suitcase and tossed it on top of the chenille spread. Opening it was a bit more difficult, but she managed, doing her best to avoid the stares of her family members.

“Are—are you going somewhere?” Sadie asked, eyes wide.

Rena nodded. “I have no choice. I can never show my face in town again.” She rose from the bed, opened the top drawer of her dresser, grabbed her unmentionables, and tossed them inside the open suitcase. Then she went to work pulling dresses off hangers.

“Rena.” Reuben’s voice sounded strained.

She looked his way, though he looked a bit fuzzy through the haze of tears. “You were right, Reuben. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going back home where I belong.”

From outside the door, the cries of the children rang out. Sadie soon joined the chorus, tears streaming.

Virginia rose and walked to Rena’s side. “You can’t leave, Rena. You simply can’t.”

“I can, and I will.”

“Rena.” Reuben’s voice came again. “Listen to me. Please.”

She stopped packing long enough to glance his way. He offered her a half smile then gestured for her to sit on the bed. Defeated, she plopped down next to the suitcase. “Whatever you have to say, can’t it wait until we’re on the train? We will have a long journey to discuss all of this.”

“There will be no journey for you,” he said.

“There will.”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is your home.”

She felt the sting of tears once again but willed them not to come. No, from now on, she would act the part of the grown-up. No more tears for her, no matter how much humiliation came her way.

“Rena, there’s something I want to tell you.” Reuben’s expression softened.

She didn’t respond over the lump in her throat.

He gazed at her with such love that it shook her to the core. “All those years, I limited you,” he whispered.

“Limited me?” She shook her head, unable to make sense of his words.

He released a slow breath. “I gave you menial tasks when I should have been challenging you more. I never really considered the idea that you might need to be needed elsewhere. I just wanted to make your life easier. There’s nothing wrong with a brother wanting the best for his sister, but somewhere along the way, I lost sight of the thought that you might have more to offer. And that life might have more to offer you. Can you forgive me for that?”

“F–forgive you?”

“I was content to watch you creep along, when, in reality, you were born to soar. You were born for more than knitting or any of those other projects I gave you to keep you busy. You were born…” He gestured to the doorway where the children had now gathered. “For this.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Virginia said. “And I daresay you will face more challenges ahead. But you’ve laid down the life you used to know and taken up another life, one God intended all along.”

Rena closed her eyes to shut out the image of the children. But try as she might, she could not shut them out. Did she really want to?

Before she could give the idea more consideration, she heard a door slam. A familiar male voice rang out from downstairs. “Rena! Rena, where are you?”

Her heart quickened as Gene’s voice grew louder. “No!”

“Rena. I need to talk to you,” his voice called again, this time closer.

She shook her head, everything within her crying out against this.

“Talk to him, Rena,” Virginia said. “It will do you both good.”

The crowd cleared, and she saw him bounding up the stairs. By the time he arrived in her open doorway, she was up and packing once again.