Moriah leaned on the counter near the cash register. “I’m glad Lula has a family now. She’s a sweet woman.”
Moriah giggled. “Speaking of women, here comes your favorite.”
Virgil spotted Alexandra crossing the street and figured his eyes bulged like a bug’s. “I’ll get on my rounds and see you later.”
He took a gulp of coffee to wash down the last bite of sweet roll. He headed for the door and made it outside when she stopped in front of him.
“I see you’re running again, you not-so-brave man. Afraid I’ll shoot you?”
His tongue wrapped around his teeth and he stuttered, “N-No, of course not. I picked up the mail at the depot and delivered it to the Mercantile like I do every weekday. Now I have to finish my rounds.”
Of all women, why did she have to be the one who affected him this way? He was like a backwards schoolboy around her.
She blinked her big blue eyes at him. “I don’t understand why you run from me. What have I ever done to you to cause this?”
Virgil felt like a cad. He’d swear there were tears brightening her eyes. “Please, Miss Novak, there’s nothing personal involved. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, and wealthy woman. I figure there is no reason in the world a woman like you would want to talk to a poorly- paid sheriff like me. If you saw where I live, you’d laugh.” Although he always called her Miss Novak, in his mind she was Alexandra.
She slipped her hand on his arm as if she intended to have him walk with her. “I don’t blame you for thinking like that, Sheriff. I admit I used to be that way. I’m trying to be a nicer person and not judge people by their money or social position. Although, being a sheriff is an important position to hold.”
He hoped he hid his surprise at her confession. “Thank you for saying so, Miss Novak. Now, I’m sure you have errands and I have to finish my morning rounds.” He extricated himself from her hand and tipped his hat. “Have a real pleasant day.”
He took off like his britches were on fire. Forcing himself to slow down, he strolled the length of town to the last street before the creek. There he turned down Lamar Street for a block, turned, and strolled up Austin Street. The homes and businesses on Austin Street were not as nice as those on Main.
This part of his rounds took longer. When he was near the grain elevator, he heard yelling. He took off running to see what caused the commotion.
Fred Dixon, owner of the elevator, beckoned to him. “Sheriff? Sheriff, come this way. We need your help.”
“What’s wrong, what’s happened?” Virgil ran toward Dixon.
“Our new man, Ernest Zimmerman, fell inside onto grain. He’s braced up against the side of the elevator but he’s going to sink and suffocate if we don’t get them out in seconds.”
Virgil shaded his eyes with his hand. “You have a rope up there?”
“Lorenzo and Jeff have one. I don’t know if either one can manage retrieving Ernest, though.”
Virgil glanced at the elevator and spotted the two men atop it. Aw, man, how he hated heights. Wouldn’t you know this was a tall grain elevator? To make the situation worse, dark thunder clouds gathered overhead.
He took off his gun belt and handed it and his hat to Dixon. “Would you keep these for me?”
Virgil climbed the rungs that led up the outside of the elevator. When he reached the other two men they were dangling a rope over the edge.
Jeff Hardeman yelled, “Ernest, we’re lowering a rope. Don’t move except to grab the rope.”
Virgil looked over the edge and saw Ernest clinging to the side as if the metal would buoy him. From here, Ernest appeared to be clinging to a protruding nail or screw.
Virgil turned to Jeff and said, “Give me the rope.”
He tied the rope around his waist. “Tie this off to something really strong. I’m going after him.” Then, Virgil climbed over the edge.
Below him Ernest called, “Hurry, man I’m sinking fast! The grain is squeezing all the breath out of me.”
Jeff and Lorenzo lowered Virgil. He jerked to a stop before he reached the marooned man. The rumble of thunder split the air. They didn’t need lightning with them on and in the metal elevator.
Lorenzo yelled, “That’s all the rope, Sheriff. We can’t lower you any further.”
Virgil looked down at the panicked man trapped in grain. Already the man had sunk further in the short time it had taken Virgil to be lowered.
“Can you reach my leg?”
“No, it’s at least six inches too high. For all that’s holy, please hurry and do something!”
Virgil tried wriggling down but he couldn’t get any further. He reached up and grabbed hold of the rope above his head to give himself some slack. Balancing himself against the side, he slipped his other arm through the loop. Dadgum, he almost strangled himself before he got the loop over his head. Dangling with only one hand wrapped in the rope had lowered him another eighteen inches at least.
“Grab my leg, not the boot. The boot will come off.” Virgil felt a hand clawing at his britches.
“I can’t get hold of the fabric.”
“Try harder, man. You heard him say this is as long as the rope will go. You gotta grab my pants leg and hold on tight.”
“I’m sinking! I can reach your boot but your pants legs are far enough above I can’t grab on securely.”
If this didn’t beat all. “Look out below then.” Feeling like a contortionist in the circus, Virgil towed off a boot. He sure hated to lose half of his favorite pair of boots but a human life was more important. Once his boot was off he felt a hand grip his ankle.
Nothing showed but the front of the man’s face and one arm. “Got your ankle.” Ernest spit grain when he spoke.
“Hold on as tight as you can.” Virgil looked upward and yelled, “Okay, pull us up.”
Slowly, Virgil and Ernest ascended the inside of the elevator. His arm felt like it was being pulled off. He wondered how much Ernest weighed. Would his arm be jerked from his body? Would Ernest be able to hold on to Virgil’s ankle?
Virgil tried to reach the rope with his other hand but he couldn’t. He clapped his free hand against his leg and slid it up his body and up his stretched arm until he could grab his bound wrist and then the rope. Holding the rope with both hands reduced the tension on his aching shoulder. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he or his arm
would’ve lasted.
He prayed Ernest could sustain his grasp. The man was only gripping his ankle. He must be scared spitless. If his grip gave out, he’d drop back into the grain.
When they reached the top, Jeff and Lorenzo pulled him over the side and pulled up their coworker. Virgil tried not to look down but accidentally caught a glance of the ground at what seemed like miles below. Inside his head, he was certain his brain was spinning. His chest locked and he couldn’t breathe.
Thunder rumbled and he saw flashes of lightning in the distance. They had to get off of this high spot and the metal before that storm hit. Otherwise, they’d be targets for lightning.
Lorenzo touched his arm. “Say, Sheriff, are you all right?”
Virgil looked at the side of the elevator and grabbed one of the rungs with white knuckles. “Can’t stand heights.”
Jeff said, “Oh, man, this isn’t a good place to have that problem. You’d better go down slowly and hold on tight as you go.”
Virgil shook his head then regretted it. He clung to the rungs and started his descent. “I can’t get down from here soon enough to suit me.”
Coughing above him let Virgil know the rescued man was climbing on the rungs also. Grain pellets showered Virgil as Ernest moved. His clothes must be full of the stuff.
Virgil’s hands cramped from his grip on the rungs. Plus, he wouldn’t be surprised if his shoulder had been pulled out of its socket. He had to work around using that arm as he climbed down.
Thank goodness his left arm was the one injured. He was right-handed and would be able to write and shoot even if his lef
t arm was out of commission for a while. When he reached the ground, he gave thanks and leaned against the side of the grain elevator until his head quit spinning.
He supported his injured arm with his other hand. Felt odd wearing only one boot. He’d be limping on his sock.
Jeff and Lorenzo helped Ernest navigate on the ground. Walking as if he were about a hundred years old, Ernest stopped in front of him and stared at the protective way Virgil stood. “Your arm and shoulder must be killing you. Sure sorry I was the cause.”
Virgil forced what he hoped passed for a smile. “All in a day’s work. I’ll be fine. Sure hope you will.”
“I owe you my life, Sheriff. Even though Jeff and Lorenzo were trying, I thought I was a goner. Figured I’d never see my wife and daughter again. Another half-inch and I wouldn’t have been able to breathe. You can bet I’m going to buy you the finest pair of boots I can find.”
Virgil was embarrassed by the depth of Ernest’s gratitude. “Naw, don’t worry about that. I’ll charge a pair to the city. This was definitely work-related. Better get yourself examined by Dr. Ross.”
Frank Dixon approached the two. “Congratulations, men. Doctor Ross is on his way. You two go into the office and wait till he checks you out.”
Ernest shifted from one foot to the other. “Mr. Dixon, I sure hope you’re not gonna fire me over this. I guarantee it will never happen again.”
Mr. Dixon clapped Ernest on the shoulder. “We all make mistakes and that one must have scared several years off your life. I’m sure you’ll take better care next time you’re up there. Some elevators have started using harnesses for their employees. Reckon I’ll be ordering ours this afternoon. Come on, let’s go into the office.”
Newspaperman Herman Taber arrived with the doctor. While the doctor checked Ernest, Herman wrote down details supplied by Jeff and Lorenzo. Mr. Dixon and Ernest tossed in a few comments as well.
Virgil hated publicity of any kind. “Look, I was just doing my duty. That’s what I get paid for so don’t make it out to be a big deal.”
Herman met his gaze. “Sounds like a pretty big deal when you save a man’s life. That doesn’t happen every day, now does it?”
Ernest leaned forward. “Listen here, Sheriff, it’s a very big deal to me and my family. Mr. Dixon not firing me is a big deal, too, so please mention that in the paper. Jeff, Lorenzo, don’t think I don’t appreciate you helping get me out of there.”
The doctor cleaned grain from Ernest’s ears and nose. “Being squeezed as you were is hard on the body. You’ll probably have nightmares for a while. You’ll need several days of rest to recuperate. If you can’t sleep, roll up in a blanket tight as a sausage.
Dr. Ross tapped Virgil on the shoulder and Virgil winced. “Here now, Sheriff. Let’s see what happened to that shoulder.” Doc unfastened Virgil’s shirt and pushed it off his arms. When the doctor rotated Virgil’s arm, the sheriff groaned and blacked out.
When Virgil came to, he was laying on a desk that must’ve been Mr. Dixon’s because it was large. He moved his shoulders slightly. Man, it hurt like the devil but, if it had been dislocated, at least it didn’t appear to be now.
Moving slowly, Virgil raised himself to a sitting position and rubbed his aching arm and shoulder. “Feels like you fixed me up, Doc. You know where to send the bill.”
“You’ll be sore for a week or more.” Doc pointed at his sling. “Wear that for several days so the shoulder can heal.”
Virgil nodded and stood. He wobbled, and felt Herman brace him.
“Thanks, Herman.” Virgil turned to speak low to the newspaper man, “I hope you’re not gonna put in the paper I blacked out like a girl.”
Herman laughed. “Don’t tempt me, Virgil.”
Mr. Dixon handed him his hat and gun belt. “You may as well go on home, Sheriff. I sent my son to alert your deputy. Milton Sprouse said to let you know he’s making your rounds for you the rest of today and all of tomorrow.”
He turned to his employee. “Ernest, go home. You heard the doctor tell you to drink plenty of water and rest for what remains of the week.” Dixon held up a hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll get paid for the days you miss. Lorenzo, you go with him and make sure he gets home.”
Virgil felt at loose ends. He supposed he might as well go by the Mercantile and buy a new pair of boots. He sure hated to lose these because they were really comfortable and he thought they looked sharp.
As he limped toward the Mercantile, lightning streaked the sky. Booming thunder shattered the quiet and rain poured. He thanked heaven the lightning hadn’t started while he was atop the grain elevator. In rain they not have been able to work fast enough and poor Zimmerman would have sunk and suffocated. If Virgil, Jeff, and Lorenzo weren’t hit by lightning, Virgil was sure to have fallen from slippery steel rungs.
Chapter Four
Alexandra paced the parlor. “Mama, what are we going to do? In a little while, they’re bringing that girl Lula to live here.”
“The very best we can. I accept the responsibility that it’s partly my fault she exists. If I hadn’t listened to your grandmother none of this would’ve happened.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so calm. I know you’re not happy with the arrangement.”
Her mother whirled and faced her. “Of course I’m not happy to find out your father has a love child. But, I’m not going to take it out on her or your father. We’ll treat her as if she were a guest.”
“You know that’s not what Papa wants. He wants us to embrace her into the bosom of our family. I cannot face it, Mama.”
The door opened and Papa ushered in Lula while Ron carried her bags. She didn’t have much, but Alexandra figured that wasn’t surprising.
Mama stepped forward her hands outstretched. “Welcome to your new home, Lula. We hope you’ll enjoy it here.”
Lula let Mama take her hands. “Thank you for agreeing to have me. I promise not to be any trouble.”
Papa hugged Lula’s shoulder. “This is your home now. Don’t feel as if you’re here on trial. We’re all one big family now and I’m happier than I’ve been in years.”
Alexandra gaped at her father. Could he mean it? Did having Lula here make him happier than he had been in years?
When Papa sent her a pointed look, Alexandra stepped forward. “Come on, Lula, and pick out your bedroom. You have three to choose from.”
Lula didn’t say anything but she followed Alexandra upstairs. Alexandra showed her the old guest room.
“This room was part of the original house.”
Lula peered inside. “The greens are beautiful.”
“When they restored the house after the fire, Papa had more rooms added. The two new bedrooms are down the hall.” She sashayed ahead and opened the first door and stood aside.
Lula stepped inside. “Ooh, the pink is lovely. It’s a large room, too.”
“The next is identical except in blues.”
Lula walked around the room, touching furniture, smoothing a hand over the counterpane. “I want this one if it’s all right.”
Alexandra motioned to Ron. “She’s chosen this one so leave her luggage.”
Ron set down the suitcases and scanned the room. “Never paid much attention when we were building, but this one suits you, Lula. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back downstairs.”
Lula twirled around. “I can’t believe this is for me.”
“You heard Papa. You’re family and belong here.” Alexandra heard the censure in her voice but couldn’t help herself.
Lula’s joyful expression changed and her face masked whatever she now felt. “Would you show me through the house? I’d love to see all the rooms.”
“Follow me.” Alexandra gave Lula a tour of upstairs. “These are the back stairs. I use them sometimes if I’m in a hurry to go out the back door.” They descended. “This is the butler’s pantry, which sounds silly since we don’t have a butler.”
Mrs. Connor was busily pre
paring supper.
“Mrs. Connor, this is Lula Neeley, soon to be Lula Novak. Mrs. Connor is our treasured housekeeper but also part of the family.”
The other two women exchanged greetings.
Lula asked, “May I help you, Mrs. Connor?”
The housekeeper beamed. “No, but thank you, Miss Lula. You enjoy getting settled into your home.”
Alexandra didn’t misinterpret the glance the housekeeper sent her. Did Mrs. Connor think Alexandra should have been helping? She tidied her own room each day.
Things were changing too fast.
Once they’d toured the downstairs, Lula went to unpack. Alexandra sat in the parlor with her parents.
Papa rattled his paper as he turned a page. “Did you hear about the sheriff’s heroics?”
Alexandra’s eyes widened. “No, what happened?”
Papa explained what he’d heard. “It will all be in tomorrow’s paper.”
Alexandra pictured all that Virgil had endured. She recalled the comfort she’d found in his arms. “Is… Is the sheriff all right?”
“His left arm and shoulder were injured. He’s off work through tomorrow. Man at the grain elevator is off all week. He almost died.”
Mama set aside her knitting. “Oh, my, was this during that loud thunderstorm?”
Papa shook his head. “Just before. With all that lightning, I shudder to think of what would have happened if they’d been on top of the elevator when that storm struck.”
Papa laid aside his paper. “Tomorrow, Alyssa, would you and Alexandra take Lula clothes shopping? She only has three decent dresses and those are Alexandra’s cast offs from the Mercantile.”
Mama smiled. “Of course. We’ll have a grand time, won’t we Alexandra?”
Alexandra sent her father a loving look. She didn’t understand his devotion to that girl. If taking care of her made him happy, she’d determined to at least try being kind to Lula. “You know how we love shopping, Papa. You’d better give us a guideline.”
Alexandra's Awakening (Pearson Grove Book 2) Page 3
