Song of the Road (12 page)

“I can help you until noon. How’s that?”

“Oh, Trudy, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Chapter 8

L
ATE IN THE AFTERNOON,
a half mile from the motor court, a car went out of control and flipped over on its side, spilling household goods along the highway. The two people in the car were taken to the doctor in Cross Roads. A deputy sheriff came out and stopped the traffic.

Cars and trucks and even a bus were backed up as far back as the motor court. Some of the people got out of their cars as they waited for the wreck to be hauled off the highway, and walked up to the motor court for a drink of water.

Mary Lee stayed in the house. Eli talked to the travelers while pumping a bucket of water from the deep well that had been on the place as long as she could remember. He seemed to be more sure of himself, not quite as shy as when she first found him in the washhouse.

After the four cabins were rented for the night and the No Vacancy sign turned on, Mary Lee washed her hair. She was sitting on the back steps, combing out the tangles and enjoying the evening, when Jake’s truck turned into the lane in front of the cabins. He lifted his hand in greeting. Mary Lee nodded.

“Trudy will bring her sign-painting brush when she comes out tomorrow,” she said to Eli, who was painting the boards he had selected for the new signs.

“The background paint should be dry by then.”

“She’s going to help me clean and rearrange the kitchen. We have six chairs. We may need to use the old chair in the washhouse. We’ll have to scrub it down and get it ready.”

“It’s wobbly, but I think I can fix it.”

“Trudy’s mother suggested that we charge ten cents extra for two breakfasts if it’s for a husband and wife. For two men, twenty cents each. Do you think that’s too much? You can get a steak dinner for thirty-five cents.”

“I don’t think so. They couldn’t get two meals uptown for that.”

“It’s what Ruby said. We can try it and if it doesn’t work we’ll have to stop. Oh, Lord. I hope it works. That three hundred dollars hanging over my head is driving me crazy.”

“What’s driving you crazy?” Jake appeared at the corner of the porch.

“Eli is painting boards for our new signs; then I’m going to talk him into cutting my hair.” Mary Lee fumbled for a plausible answer.

“Cut your hair?” Eli stopped painting. “I can’t cut hair.”

“Why are you cutting it?” Jake squatted down on his heels beside the steps and pushed his hat back off his forehead. His brows puckered; the eyes beneath them held a quizzical expression.

“I like it shoulder length. When it’s longer than that, it’s too hard to take care of.”

“It’s pretty. It’d be a shame to cut it,” he said slowly.

“Let Jake cut it,” Eli said, and dropped his brush in a can of kerosene. “It’ll take me half an hour to get all this paint off.” He held his paint-splattered hands out for her to see.

“I’m in no hurry.” Mary Lee was flustered by Jake’s presence.

“Are you afraid I’ll scalp you?” He cocked his head to one side. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her flushed face.

“Nooo . . . I only want about this much off the ends.” She held her thumb and forefinger a couple of inches apart.

He stood and reached for the comb. Mary Lee automatically got to her feet.

“Get the scissors — or do you want me to use my knife?” Mary Lee saw the teasing glint in his eyes. His firm lips were tilted in a grin.

“Oh, you!” She stepped up onto the porch and went into the house. Seconds later she returned with the shears and paused on the steps. “Maybe I should wait for Eli. I don’t like that look in your eye.”

“Don’t worry. If I had the right to say so, I’d forbid you to cut off even a smidgen. Stand there on the steps and turn around. It’ll put me about eye level with the back of your head.”

Mary Lee stood as still as a stone, praying that he didn’t know that her silly heart was beating like the wings of a wild bird caught in a snare. It seemed to her that he ran the comb through her hair for a long time before he spoke.

“I don’t know why you want to cut it. It’s thick and wavy and . . . awfully pretty,” he said on a breath of a whisper. He ran forked fingers up from her nape and through her hair.

“Just trim the ends.” Then she said lightly, “I suppose you’ll want a quarter. It’s what the barbers uptown get.”

“I was thinking about paying you for letting me comb it,” he murmured.

Mary Lee’s head jerked around so she could look at him.

“Now you’ve got it messed up. I’ll have to comb it again,” he said.

Eli watched from the door of the washhouse, and the thought came to him that Jake liked Mary Lee, really liked her, in the way that a man wanted a girl to be his sweetheart. Eli didn’t know how he felt about that. He had taken to Jake instinctively, knowing that he was a good guy, but his mind questioned. Mary Lee deserved a man who would take care of her so that she wouldn’t have to work so hard. How would Jake feel about raising another man’s kid? His uncle hadn’t wanted him when his folks died, and he was blood kin.

Jake finished cutting the tip ends of her hair and asked, “What about the new signs? Where are you going to put them?”

“On the highway. We’re going to serve breakfast between six and eight every morning after the signs go up.”

Jake waited a minute before he spoke. “Is your mother goin’ to do the cookin’?”

“Heavens, no! She’d never get up in time. Trudy Bender, Ruby’s daughter, is going to help me get started. Then I can do it. Eli says my biscuits are as good as any he’s ever had.”

He was still for a minute, then took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around. His face was level with hers.

“You can’t take on more work.” His voice was deep and soft. He gazed at her for so long that a swift new wave of color filled her cheeks. “You’re already doing too much.”

“I have to. I’ve got bills to meet.” She wanted to press her hand to her heart to stop its mad gallop.

“You need to rest more.” His thumb and forefinger circled her wrist. “When is your baby due?”

“The last week in September.”
The bank note is due the first of October!
her mind screamed. She tugged on her hand and succeeded only in pulling her wrist from his fingers to have them interlace with hers. “Women have been having babies for years, you know,” she said when she finally got enough air into her lungs.

“I know.”

“Back in the olden days an Indian woman squatted behind a bush, had her baby, then caught up with the rest of the tribe.” She didn’t know why she told him that, and wished that she hadn’t. Suddenly embarrassed, she glanced at Eli leaning against the washhouse, hoping he would say something. When he didn’t, she said quickly, “It’s nice of you to be concerned about me, but . . . it really isn’t necessary.”

“I think it is. Have you seen a doctor?”

She laughed nervously. “For goodness’ sake. You sound like . . . like . . .”

Good Lord, she had almost said, “my
husband
!”

But Bobby wouldn’t have been concerned. He would have been angry because she couldn’t work and that the baby took time away from him.

“You haven’t left this place since you came here, have you?”

“I went to town today.” Her voice quavered thinking of what she had almost said.

“Would you like to go for a ride and see how the work is coming on the bridge?”

“No, but thanks. I can’t leave. Mama could act up or . . . if Frank Pierce discovered I wasn’t here, he’d cause trouble.”

“Eli will be here. The cabins are rented. Frank couldn’t do much harm in an hour.”

She shook her head.

“I doubt that anyone will see you with me,” Jake said. “If that’s what’s worrying you.”

“That’s not it,” she said forcefully.

“Go for a ride, Mary Lee,” Eli urged. “Pick out places to put up the new signs. They’ll be ready the day after tomorrow.”

Mary Lee’s eyes went back to Jake’s. “You haven’t cut my hair yet.”

“I trimmed the ends.” He caught a strand between his thumb and forefinger and traced its length. “I hate cutting off more of it.”

“I guess I’ll just have to put it up in a granny bun on top of my head.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. For the first time she noticed that his teeth were exceedingly white and even.

“Put away the shears and walk down to the truck. I’ll hide you until we’re out of sight. Your mother and Frank won’t even know you’re gone.”

“Frank isn’t here. Mama is sitting by the window. I suppose she’s looking for him.” Mary Lee reached over and took her comb from the pocket of his shirt. She looked away from him toward Eli. He could tell that she was pondering whether to accept his invitation. Her face was so expressive that he knew the instant she had decided, and he was smiling when she said, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“What do you think, Eli?” Mary Lee waited until Jake had almost reached his cabin before she spoke.

“ ’Bout what?”

“About me going with Jake.”

“You’ll be all right with him and we need to know where to put up the signs.”

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

Jake couldn’t believe what he was doing. Just last night he had decided to stay as far away from her as possible. He knew that it was dangerous to his peace of mind to get involved with Bobby Clawson’s widow, but, dammit to hell, he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted a little time alone with her; then maybe he’d get her out of his system. He seemed to lose his common sense when he was with her. She had no idea how sweet she looked with her hair all soft and shiny, her mouth smiling and her little round belly poking out.

He hurried inside the cabin and yanked off his shirt. He washed quickly, pulled off his boots and pants and put on a clean pair of jeans and the blue shirt she had washed a few days before. Rubbing his fingers over his rough cheeks, he wished that he had time to shave. He combed his hair, picked up a blanket and went out to the truck. After taking out a pair of moccasins and his water jar, he carefully spread the blanket over the seat.

Jake waited beside the car for so long he began to think she wasn’t coming. Disappointment was beginning to eat a hole in his chest when she came out of the back of the house and hurried along behind the cabins.

“I had to wait until Mama went to her room.” Relief set Jake’s hands trembling as he opened the door and helped her up into the truck. “I don’t like sneaking around,” she said after he slid under the wheel.

“Slide down in the seat if you don’t want her to see you when we pass.”

She bent sideways until her head almost touched his thigh. “Is she in the window?”

“No, but stay there until we pull out onto the highway.”

When Mary Lee felt the tires hit the pavement, she sat up. “I hate having to do that.”

He grinned at her. When he looked back toward the road, she felt free to look at him. Without a hat, he appeared to be younger.

“How old are you?”

Startled by the question, he glanced at her. “Almost twenty-six.”

“Then you’re twenty-five.”

“I’ll be twenty-six tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is your birthday?”

“Yeah. It just occurred to me this morning.” His smiling eyes met hers. Happiness sang like a bird in his chest. It was such a miracle that she was here in his dirty old truck with him.

“My daddy always made a big to-do over my birthday. I always had a birthday cake and a present, even if it was just a little something.”

“What’s a birthday cake?”

“You’ve never had one?”

“Not that I know of.”

“It’s a cake made especially for the birthday girl or . . . boy. A candle is put on for each year. After they are lighted, you make a silent wish before you blow them out. If you blow them all out without taking another breath, your wish will come true. After that everyone sings the birthday song.”

“I guess I’ve heard of it, but just never saw one.”

“You were just a little older than I am when you went to prison.”

“I soon learned how to take care of myself.” He spoke as if he didn’t mind talking about that time in his life. “There are a lot of hard men in there, and a few decent ones. I put in my time and got by.” There was a bitter tone to his last words.

“Mr. Clawson was here today. He said you had his cattle penned and had changed the brand.”

“Why did he tell you that?”

She evaded the question. “I asked him if he saw you do it. He didn’t give me an answer.”

“He was in Arizona at the time. His foreman and a couple others took the sheriff out to where the cattle were penned. Are you going to ask me if I stole them?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I don’t want you to . . . tell me you did.”

“If I had stolen the cattle, I’d not be dumb enough to pen them up where they would be easily found and I’d not spend a couple days changing the brand. I’d have driven them as far away as possible and sold them to a slaughter house.”