Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]

by With Heart

  He wasn’t usually uncomfortable around city women, but when he’d first seen Kathleen Dolan he’d been stunned. She was lovely and warm, with a smile that would melt the coldest of hearts. Her hair, and there was plenty of it, was the color of a sunset, her skin creamy white, and those damn freckles— Her looks hadn’t matched the image he’d had of her. He’d thought she’d be more hoity-toity with her education and ability to buy into a newspaper. He couldn’t imagine being able to write down things that hundreds, maybe thousands, of people would read.

  She was far beyond his reach, and he’d best stop this silly thinking about her and keep his distance. Everyone in town knew he came from Mud Creek trash and they wouldn’t let him forget it. Almost all of them knew him as the offspring of a whore and a redskin. It was true. He had grown up knowing that and also knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

  Johnny had made a niche for himself out on the Circle H. In addition, during off-seasons, he made a little money working for the Feds on special jobs. No one around here knew about that, and that’s the way he wanted it. He had been content until two o’clock this afternoon when he had come over the rise and seen the sun shining on a head of bright red hair. The damn woman had disturbed him, had made him want to be with her and want to try to interest and impress her.

  “Horse hockey!” Johnny pounded the steering wheel with his fist.

  The presence of Kathleen Dolan angered him because suddenly his niche no longer seemed enough for him.

  Chapter Three

  “Come eat, Miss Dolan. Granny’s made chocolate gravy.” Emily, dressed for school, stood anxiously beside the kitchen door.

  “Chocolate gravy?” The thought made Kathleen’s stomach queazy.

  “You girls sit down.” Hazel Ramsey opened the oven door and took out a pan of golden brown biscuits. “Do you drink coffee, Miss Dolan?”

  “If you have it made. Don’t make it especially for me. I usually drink tea, a taste I acquired from my grandparents in Iowa. I’ll get a box while I’m in town today. I’ll leave some at the office and bring the rest home. I like tea hot when it’s cold and cold when it’s hot.”

  “Can I have some?” Emily asked.

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t drink tea, sugar.”

  “I will if Kathleen does.”

  “You don’t call grown-ups by their first names,” Mrs. Ramsey chided gently.

  Kathleen buttered a biscuit and helped herself to the peach jam. Mrs. Ramsey split a biscuit, placed it on Emily’s plate, and covered it generously with the light brown gravy.

  “Don’t you want some?” Emily asked.

  “Well . . . I’ve never had chocolate gravy.”

  “It’s good.”

  “Then I’d better try it. I may be missing something.” Kathleen placed a spoonful of the gravy on a biscuit half and tentatively took a bite. “Humm, it is good. I can’t taste the chocolate at all.”

  “Told ya.” Emily glanced at her grandmother and beamed, showing a missing tooth.

  Kathleen walked part of the way to town with Emily, who was in the second grade. The little girl cast proud glances up at Kathleen when they met her curious schoolmates and, at one time, reached up and took her hand. She chattered happily about her school activities, making sure the children walking ahead of them were aware that Kathleen was her special friend.

  “’Bye, Miss Dolan. See ya tonight,” Emily shouted when they parted.

  “’Bye, Emily.” She watched the little girl go slowly down the walk, making no attempt to catch up with the other children.

  It was five blocks from Mrs. Ramsey’s to the downtown area. Many heads turned to watch the pretty redhead, not only because she was a stranger in town, but because Kathleen walked with the confident grace of a woman who knew who she was and where she was going. She approached the Gazette right at eight o’clock, wishing with all her heart for a cup of tea to help fortify herself for the first day at the Gazette.

  “Good morning.” Adelaide rose from behind the desk as soon as Kathleen walked in.

  “Hello. Are you feeling better?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m sorry you had such a poor welcome yesterday.”

  “I’m glad I was here to carry on. Did I make too big a mess of things?”

  “Not at all. By the way that was a clever ad you laid out for the men’s store. How did you get Leroy Grandon to buy two ads? He’s usually as tight as the skin on an onion.”

  Kathleen laughed. “I don’t know.”

  “I do.” Adelaide looked pointedly up and down Kathleen’s trim figure.

  Adelaide Vernon was a sweet-looking woman: small-boned and thin. Beneath thick brown hair, gray at the temples, her face was pale, and her expression conveyed her anxiety as she met her new partner. Her fragile looks belied her toughness, a legacy from her father that had allowed her to run this weekly paper alone since his death. She wore a blue print dress with a white collar, a white belt, and large white buttons down the front to the hem.

  “Did you find the ‘Back Fence’ items I put on your spindle?” Kathleen went to the other large desk in the office where she had worked the day before.

  “I found them. Too bad you had to be introduced to Earlene Smothers on your first day.”

  “I knew right away that she was a pain. I assured her that you would spell Jeraldine with a J. It was very important to her. She was extremely curious as to why the nurse was here.”

  “She would be. She’s next to the paper when it comes to spreading the news. Did you take the room at Hazel Ramsey’s?”

  “Yes. Thanks for arranging for me to go there. She’s very nice, and the room is comfortable.”

  “I was hoping you’d stay there. Hazel is having a hard time. She takes in ironing and anything else she can do to support herself and Emily.”

  “Where are the child’s parents?”

  “Emily is one of those unfortunate children without a father. I doubt that even Clara, her mother, knows who he is. Clara comes and goes. Hazel and Emily are better off when she stays away.” Adelaide put a sheet of paper in her typewriter. “The press starts rolling at noon. Paul proofed the front page and made up the ad you took from Leroy. We’re in pretty good shape for press day.”

  “What’s the press run?”

  “We’re down to twelve hundred. Five hundred are delivered to the towns around. We have correspondents in Deval, Grandview, Loveland, and Davidson. They send in news. Most people like to see their names in the paper. A hundred and fifty go out in the mail. A hundred and fifty are delivered here in town, and the rest go to the stores and are sold here at the office.”

  “The paper in Liberal didn’t do much better than that.”

  “We need new ideas, Kathleen. It’s what we must talk about. But first let’s get this edition out.”

  “Sounds logical. What shall I do first?”

  Kathleen was amazed at the amount of work Paul was able to do. She noticed that he was surprisingly fast on his feet for a big man. She had found very few mistakes when she proofed the stories he had set on the linotype machine.

  The press was old and printed only four pages at one time. This week’s paper would be eight pages, which would require two runs. The front of the paper would be printed last. When it came off the press the first run would be inserted.

  At noon Paul locked the columns of type into the page frame and the frame to the press. After inking the type with a roller, he turned the big iron wheel by hand to print sheets for Adelaide to look over before he started the press.

  Kathleen was familiar with the procedure even though the press was much older than the one in Liberal. Every available hand was needed once the press began to roll. She wished she had thought to bring a smock to protect her dress from the wet ink while she helped insert the first run into the second one when Adelaide came to her, with a big loose shirt to put on over her dress.

  “Thanks. I’ll bring something next week.”

  “Hello, Woo
dy.”

  When Adelaide spoke, Kathleen turned to see the man who had come in through the back door. He wore a cap and overalls. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but from the way he hurried forward to help Paul lift a large roll of newsprint to the press, she realized he was young and strong.

  “Woody helps us on press day,” Adelaide said. “He’ll take the papers from the press and stack them on the table, then help insert them in the final run. He delivers the papers to the stores. I start addressing for the mail as soon as we start the second run. We have to have the papers at the post office by five o’clock if we want them to go out tonight.”

  Kathleen nodded and glanced at Paul. He had not said one word to her all morning, and very few words to Adelaide. The two of them worked together as if speech were not necessary. The next few hours flew by for Kathleen. She loved the clank, clank of the press, the smell of the ink, and the rush to get the papers stuffed and out.

  Paul left his position by the press, where he watched continuously for a tear in the paper that would clog the flow and cause the press to be shut down, to tell Adelaide quite firmly that she should go sit down.

  Kathleen heard her say in a low voice, “I’m all right, Paul. Don’t worry.”

  Kathleen added to the suggestion by saying, “I can handle this back here, Adelaide.”

  “All right. I’ll go up front and start addressing the mailing. Usually a dozen or so people stop in to get papers hot off the press.” Adelaide went to the office with a stack of papers, then returned to speak to Kathleen over the clatter of the press. “Hazel came by to find out what time you’d be there for supper. I took the liberty of telling her that I’d like for you to have supper with me tonight so that we could talk. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Kathleen smiled, nodded, and continued to stuff papers.

  When the press was shut off at last, Kathleen washed the ink from her hands at the sink, using the harsh Lava soap, then went to the front office where Adelaide was busy with a tray of subscriber plates, stamping the papers, making them ready for the post office.

  Three paper boys came in. Each picked up his bundle of papers.

  “I have two “stops” on your route, Gordon.” She gave the boy a slip of paper. “If either of these flags you down for a paper, tell them to come see me. I have three for you, Donny, and one for you, Ellis. Get going now and, Gordon, try to get to Mrs. Smothers as soon as you can. She’s been complaining again.”

  “But . . . Miss Vernon, I deliver to her . . . almost first.”

  “I believe you. Just try to get along with her.”

  “I hate to stop papers,” Adelaide said when the boys were out the door. “But those six subscribers haven’t paid for several months.”

  While they were stamping papers, the nurse, Louise Munday, came into the office. Her starched uniform and cap were immaculate. She carried a small black bag.

  “Well, well. I see you’re up and about. Of course, you’d have to be dead not to be down here on the day your little gossip sheet comes out.” She marched over to the counter where Adelaide was working as if she was going into battle, took her chin between her fingers, and turned her head toward her so she could look at the cut on her forehead.

  “I’m all right.” Adelaide jerked her chin to free it.

  “You don’t look all right. You looked washed-out.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, Louise.” Adelaide took the tray of address plates to her desk. “Have you met my partner, Kathleen Dolan?”

  “’Fraid so. How did you get that bump on the head?”

  “Dammit, Louise. It’s none of your business.”

  “She said you fell out of your chair.” The big woman turned accusing eyes on Kathleen.

  “I didn’t say that,” Kathleen said sharply, and wondered how long it took the nurse to put all that mascara and paint on her face.

  Louise ignored Kathleen’s retort and fixed her eyes on Adelaide.

  “Where’s that big ugly galoot that’s always hovering over you? He knows you fell out of your chair.” Louise looked toward the back room. “Isn’t he a little young for you, dear?”

  “Why don’t you ask him, dear?”

  “It isn’t any of my business if you make a fool of yourself and set the tongues to wagging.”

  “That’s right. It isn’t any of your business.”

  “Better go slow on that rotgut whiskey, Adelaide. You might fall down out in the street and get run over.” She picked up the bag she had set on the desk and headed for the door.

  “And you’d cry at my funeral.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Louise turned, her eyes narrowed and her small red mouth puckered as if she were going to throw a kiss. “Doc told me to come by and see about you. Guess I can tell him you’re still full of piss and vinegar.”

  “You do that. Don’t bother to make another house call.”

  “I’ll be back if Doc tells me to.”

  She walked out and let the screen door slam behind her.

  “What a disagreeable woman,” Kathleen said into the silence that followed. “Does she carry so much weight in this town that she can come in here and be rude to the editor of the paper?”

  “She thinks she does.”

  “I could see that. I’m glad you stood up to her.”

  “Dr. Herman is county commissioner, medical officer, on every board in the county, besides being mayor of Rawlings. He runs things to a certain extent here in Tillison County.”

  “So when his nurse comes around threatening people, she is speaking for him?”

  “I guess you could say that. She’s not rude around him. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth,” Adelaide said with a sniff.

  “If she’s afraid that you’ll print something she won’t like, it isn’t very smart of her to antagonize you.” It was an opening for Adelaide to explain the animosity between the two, but the older woman failed to step into it.

  Instead she said, “I wasn’t drinking, Kathleen.” Adelaide waited to speak until after a small boy put a nickel in the cup and took a paper. “Paul and I have a drink sometimes in the evenings, but I never take a drink during the day. My father was a fall-down drunk. Louise likes to think that I inherited his weakness.”

  “Have you known her long?”

  “She came here about fifteen years ago to work for Doc. She was mouthy even then. Doc’s wife died soon after that. I think she thought she was going to be Mrs. Doc. It didn’t happen, but they’re still as tight as eight in a bed.”

  “He sleeps with her?”

  Adelaide rolled her eyes and said drily, “Who knows?” Then she laughed and her eyes lit up, showing a hidden sense of humor. “He’d have to be careful or she’d crush him. She’s a head taller and must outweigh him by a hundred pounds.”

  “Maybe she’s interested in Paul and sees you as her competition.”

  “He’s one of the few men in town who’s her size.” Adelaide continued to smile. “About a year ago, she started flirting with him. A fat lot of good it did her. He dislikes her as much as I do.”

  “Is she disagreeable to everyone in town?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll find out that folks here know when to keep their mouths shut. One of them might need a doctor for one of their kids one night and would be told that he’s out of town.”

  Kathleen wanted to ask about the “what she knew” that Paul had referred to last night as causing Louise to dislike her, but decided that Adelaide would tell her when she was ready.

  “I’m the one who called her,” Kathleen said. “I was so scared when I came in and found you on the floor that I called the operator for the doctor. She came.”

  “I bet that she thought, ‘Oh, boy. I’ve got her this time,’ and trotted right over here.”

  Kathleen laughed. “It didn’t take long, but at the time it seemed like hours. By the way, when I drove up and parked out front, an Indian woman came out of the office and walked off down the street. I would have thought t
hat she’d have seen you lying on the floor.”

  Kathleen was waiting for Adelaide’s comment about the Indian woman when Paul and Woody came from the back room.

  Paul had taken off his ink-stained apron, had washed, and had combed his hair. He had a terribly homely face, but nevertheless, was such a large, well-built man that he made an impressive figure.

  Woody politely removed his cap and tucked it under his arm when he came into the office. While working with him at the press, Kathleen had become aware that he was a light-colored Negro. Now, looking him full in the face, she saw how nice-looking he was. His dark eyes were large, his features fine. It was hard to tell his exact age.

  Both men avoided looking directly at Kathleen.

  “We’re almost finished,” Adelaide said. “My, it goes faster with two working. It’s just now four-fifteen.”

  Woody was pulling a big red coaster wagon loaded with bundled papers. He stacked them beside the door.

  “They’re for the bus,” Adelaide said. “The driver drops off bundles at Deval, Loveland, Grandview, and Davidson.”

  “Do you get any advertising from those towns?”

  “Some.”

  When the mail subscribers’ papers were all stamped, tied, and loaded in the wagon, Adelaide gave Woody the necessary papers for the post office and held the door open for him. He eased the wagon over the threshold and took off down the street.

  “That’s done.” She sighed.

  “I’ll take care of things down here. Why don’t you and Miss Dolan go on upstairs? I know you’ve got things to talk about.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kathleen saw Paul’s hand sliding up and down Adelaide’s back. They are more than friends. He’s very protective of her. If they are lovers, they must have more of a reason for hiding it other than because he’s younger than she is.