Ribbon in the Sky

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Law, Letty, we knew somethin’ of the sort had happened to you,” Mrs. Watkins said, reaching to cover Letty’s hand where it lay on the table. “Jacob and Leona were happy as larks to have you. ’Twasn’t our place to judge ya. That night at the Pierces’ I just thought if Dolan ain’t Patrick’s pa he’s his twin brother. They’re like two peas in a pod.”

  Mike’s dark gaze caught Letty’s and glinted with pride and love so warm that she nearly drowned in it. The grin that widened across his face stole away what little concentration she had left.

  “It was impossible for me to marry Letty in Dunlap. I’m a Catholic and her pa is a holiness preacher,” Mike said, his eyes holding Letty’s as if they were alone. “But we were married in our hearts, weren’t we, sweetheart?”

  “We were married in our hearts,” Letty repeated softly. The words, so sweet, so sincere, were mirrored in her eyes, echoed in her heart.

  “Well, land sakes,” Mrs. Watkins exclaimed after a silent moment. “There ain’t no reason why ya can’t wed and let folks think ya was wed all the time.”

  “That’s what we want more than anything. We don’t want Patrick to suffer because he was born out of wedlock.” Mike held Letty’s hand in both of his, his dark eyes on her face again were brimming with love.

  “Ya ain’t got to fear. Not one word you said will leave this room. Ain’t that right, Guy? Lordy, what’s neighbors for if not to stick to ya when times is bad? Us and the Fletchers has been through tough times together. Fletchers is almost family to us.”

  “I thank ya, Mrs. Watkins. And you too, Guy.” Jacob spoke in a humble tone. “I’ve thought on this long and hard. Guess ya know me and Leona adopted Mable, Letty’s ma. What I’m doin’ is fixin’ things so Albert Pringle can’t come in ’n’ take over when I’m gone. I hatched up this plan to sell to Mike. We’ll be partners, sort of. We’re goin’ to get us some sheep and a couple of good brood mares.” He grinned around the pipe stem he held in his teeth. “I ain’t plannin’ on givin’ up the ghost yet, mind ya. I’m aimin’ to live long enough to raise some fine horses, maybe even take some sheep to the county fair.”

  Letty looked at her grandpa’s wrinkled, weathered face and wanted to cry. Her mind flashed back to the time she had stood in the yard, a scared fifteen-year-old, and he’d said, “Well, come on in, girl.” He had been her mainstay throughout the lonely years without Mike. Then when Mike came to find her, he had sized him up immediately and had found him to his liking. Oh, she was glad that in Jacob’s wise old heart he had known that she needed time to come to terms with what her parents had done and to fall in love with Mike all over again.

  “I can’t get over you being Sister Cora’s sister,” Harry said.

  “I’m not proud of it, Harry.” Letty blinked the tears from her eyes. “No one knows her as Mike and I do. She’s a sham. I learned just today that long ago she wanted Mike. He spurned her. That could be why she hates him. I’ve never been able to figure out why she hates me, and it no longer matters.”

  “Well, now, I’ve said it before, but it’s worth sayin’ again—ya can’t choose yore kin no more’n ya can choose the size of yore feet.” Mrs. Watkins got up from the table. “You’d best eat something, Harry, before ya set out for Boley.”

  * * *

  On the way back to the farm, Jacob drove the team. The children, sitting on the seat beside him, chattered like magpies. Mike and Letty, hands clasped, sat on the tailgate.

  “Mike, our secret will be safe with the Watkinses.”

  “They deserved to know the truth. They witnessed a lifelong friend signing his farm over to us.”

  “Grandpa seems relieved that the farm matter is settled. Did you notice? I think he was actually worried that Mama and Papa would try to get the farm.”

  “It’s been on his mind for some time.”

  “It wasn’t his idea to adopt Mama. Doctor Whittier brought her out from Boley because Grandma wanted a child and couldn’t have one. Grandpa would have done anything in the world for Grandma. It’s too bad that Mama turned out to be such a disappointment.”

  “Not entirely, sweetheart. Through her they got you. Jacob would be alone now if not for you.”

  “He’s so dear to me, Mike. I hope he lives for a long, long time. I hope he lives to know Patrick as a man.”

  “That’ll only be another fifteen years, honey. Time goes fast.”

  * * *

  They had just finished eating the evening meal of warmed-up beans and fresh cornbread when Woodrow began a frenzy of barking. John Pershing, honking with indignation, shot out from under the porch to see what all the fuss was about and then scrambled out of the way as an automobile came up the lane and turned into the yard between the barn and the house. Patrick was the first to jump up from the table and run to the back porch.

  “It’s Doctor Hakes,” he shouted as soon as the motor sputtered and died. “ ’Lo, Doctor Hakes. Can I sit in your car?”

  Following her son to the porch, Letty waited with a worried frown on her face. Something must have happened to bring Wallace out at this time of day. Mike stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. They watched the doctor get out of his car.

  “Sure, you can sit in the car. Just don’t drive her too fast,” he said with a grin and ruffled Patrick’s dark curls when he helped him climb up onto the seat.

  “Be careful, Patrick,” Letty called. “Don’t track mud into the car.”

  “He can’t hurt a thing, Letty.” Wallace Hakes came to the porch, stopped, and stood looking at her. “Are you all right? I heard what happened behind the store.”

  “I’m all right. No damage, except to my pride.”

  “I never thought he’d go that far.” The doctor’s thin hair looked as if it had been stirred by an eggbeater. His eyeglasses were dusty and had slid down on his nose. He pushed them up with a long bony finger and looked steadily at Mike. “Mike Dolan,” he said as if to himself.

  While the men studied each other, Letty studied them.

  “Wallace, I want you to meet Mike Dolan. And Mike, this is Doctor Hakes. He has been my doctor and friend since I came here. He was here when Grandma died and while Grandpa was terribly sick. And he delivered Patrick.”

  Mike held out his hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Doctor.”

  Wallace stepped up onto the porch and gripped Mike’s hand, still assessing the big dark man who loomed behind Letty.

  “And I’m glad to meet you.” Wallace looked at Mike and then back to where Patrick sat behind the steering wheel of his car, turning it back and forth. He nodded his head in acknowledgment of the resemblance of the son to the father.

  “Weaver may think he’s getting off scot-free for what he did to Letty, but I intend to settle the score.” The tone of Mike’s voice was tight and angry.

  Letty put her hand on his arm. “I wish you’d let it go.” Mike made no reply. She sighed and turned to the doctor. “Come in. We’ve just finished eating, but there’s beans left and a slice or two of cornbread.”

  “Thank you, Letty, but I’m not hungry. I need to talk to you folks. Where’s Helen?”

  “In the house, clearing the table.”

  “Could she look after Patrick for a bit? We don’t want him to run off with the car.”

  Helen was not in the kitchen. Letty looked at Jacob and he jerked his head toward the parlor. She found Helen leaning against the wall, her face hidden in the crook of her arm.

  “Helen, Doctor Hakes is here.” When there was no answer, she said, “Helen—? Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Has he come to get me?” Letty had to bend close to hear the child’s muffled voice.

  “No! He hasn’t come to get you. He came to visit.”

  “Really?” Helen looked up, showing a tear-stained face.

  “Really. Patrick is in his car. You know how adventuresome he is. I need you to keep an eye on him.” Letty wiped the child’s face with the end of her apron and then hugged her. “Honey, I wish you wo
uldn’t worry so. Run on out and watch Patrick for me, but speak to Doctor Hakes first.”

  Wallace and Jacob were sitting at the table, Mike was pouring coffee for them.

  “ ’Lo, Doctor Hakes,” Helen said as she ran past the table and out the door.

  “ ’Lo, Helen,” Wallace called, but his voice was lost in the slamming of the screen door.

  “She was afraid you’d come to get her to take her back to her father. Damn that Cecil Weaver,” Letty sputtered. “I suppose he’s drunk and raising cane.”

  “He’s drunk all right, but he’s not our immediate problem.”

  “Coffee, honey?” Mike asked.

  “No, thanks.” Letty sank down in a chair.

  “It’s Sister Cora!” Wallace said bitterly. “Goddamn that woman! She gets under my skin.”

  Letty had never heard Wallace swear before. “What’s she done now?” she asked, wishing she didn’t have to know.

  “I sent a wire to Mrs. Knight asking her to meet me in Boley. Ned, at the office, told me Cora Pringle had sent a wire to Mrs. Knight at the Capitol telling her she had some information about the welfare of a child. She asked Mrs. Knight to meet her in Boley.”

  Letty reached for Mike’s hand. “I was afraid of that. Grandpa, Wallace knows Cora is my sister.”

  “I don’t see how two humans from the same sire could be so different. It ain’t the way with cows or horses.” Jacob’s comment was punctuated with a snort of disgust.

  “And, Mike, while I was in town yesterday, I told Wallace about us.”

  “I’d have known if you hadn’t told me,” Wallace said. “One look at him and at Patrick is all it takes.”

  Mike grinned. “Sometimes I have to pinch myself to be sure I’m not dreaming, that I’m really here with Letty and my boy.”

  “Speaking of dreaming. That Sister Cora is dreaming if she thinks I’m going to sit still for her coming here and working her flimflammery on my patients.”

  Letty was seeing a new side of the mild-mannered doctor. He was passionately angry.

  “I’m thinking she has overplayed her hand this time,” Wallace said. “I’ve been wanting to get something on her since a woman over at Forest Grove refused to let me treat her little boy because Sister Cora had come through town on one of her whistle-stop tours and had healed him. Boy died a week later of typhoid.” Wallace clenched the fist that lay on the table. “Damn her, I’ve got something now. If things work out right, I can prove she’s a sham.”

  “Cora and my father have been claiming for a long while that their prayers heal the sick. If there really was goodness in their hearts, I might be able to believe some of it, but I know for a fact that their motivation is purely greed.”

  Wallace looked at Letty and shook his head. “It’s so hard to believe she’s your sister.”

  Letty smiled. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today. What have you uncovered, Wallace?”

  “I went to the meeting last night. I wanted to watch her praying over the sick. It makes me sick to the stomach to see people crowd around so that she can place her hands on them. ‘I’ve got the he . . . al . . . ing power,’ she’d say.” The doctor mimicked Cora’s voice. “Then at just the right moment—I’m sure it was timed perfectly—two men came forward carrying a man on a stretcher. They pleaded with her to pray for their brother. Cora knelt down beside the stretcher and ran her hands along the man’s legs. Then she prayed. She prayed loud and long for the poor soul who had been unable to walk since he was crippled in an accident ten years ago. Then very dramatically, she stood, held out her hand, and told him to get up and walk. Of course, he did, to the cheers of the crowd. He walked unassisted up the steps to the hotel porch.”

  Wallace got up from the table and paced back and forth. “That’s when I got a good look at him. He was no more a cripple than I am. He’s from the town of Briskin about ninety miles west of here. I spent a few days with Doc Perkins over there, and we visited an old woman whose lazy, drunken son lay on a cot on the porch. The house was a run-down shack a couple of miles out of town. Doc Perkins kicked the drunk awake and made him go fetch a fresh bucket of water for the old lady. Man’s name is Fellon. I’m going over there and get that son-of-a-bitch and bring him back by the scruff of the neck if I have to.”

  “Will you need any help?” Mike asked.

  Wallace looked from Mike to Letty. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  “What do you plan to do with him, Wallace?” Letty asked.

  “Take him to her service in Boley and confront her. Doc Perkins will attest to the fact the man has never been a cripple.”

  “Do you think that will influence Mrs. Knight to disregard what Cora says?”

  “Maybe. I think we can get around Mrs. Knight, but only if you two are legally married and have been for some time. She’ll want to interview Helen. She’s a compassionate woman where children are concerned. What we’re concerned with is that she give Helen to you and not to someone else.” He held up his hand when Letty opened her mouth to speak. “There’s a justice of the peace at Weatherford about ten miles south of Briskin who owes me a favor. With a little arm-twisting, he’ll date the marriage paper with any day you want and pretend that it was lost and he had just found it when he takes it to be recorded. The town, by the way, is just over the line in Wyoming.”

  “But . . . isn’t that illegal?”

  “In a way. But isn’t it better than having Patrick branded a bastard for the rest of his life and better than giving Helen back to Cecil Weaver?” the doctor asked in a hard, flat tone.

  “He’s right, Letty,” Jacob spoke for the first time. “Hell, it ain’t nobody’s business when ya was wed. It don’t make ya any less wedded ’cause the right date ain’t on the paper.”

  “What do you think, Mike?”

  “The doctor is giving us a chance to secure a respectable future for our son and to present a united front to this Mrs. Knight. It’s what we planned to do, honey: go somewhere and be wed quietly, letting people assume we’d been married all along.”

  “We hadn’t planned to falsify the date. But if it’s what we have to do, we’ll do it.”

  “As soon as we get custody of Helen, Weaver is going to get the beating he deserves.” A deep frown puckered Mike’s brow. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t find him last night. I was mad enough to kill him.”

  “Good God!” Wallace said. “Stay away from him for a while. We need the sheriff on our side. I want to charge Cora Pringle with fraud.”

  “How do you know Fellon went back to Briskin?”

  “Cora will want him out of town, and he’ll want to show off the money to his cronies.”

  Mike stood. “Go get ready, honey.”

  “What if Cecil comes while we’re gone?”

  “Jacob can handle him.”

  “He won’t come tonight. I heard he was already so drunk he could hardly walk,” Wallace said and then to Mike, “Do you drive?”

  “Sure do. I was in a motor pool and drove everything from trucks to tanks to the general’s car.”

  “Good. We’ll take turns driving. I figure it’s two hundred miles there and back. If we leave now, we’ll not be back until morning. Jacob, do you have a can I can fill with water and take along for the radiator?”

  * * *

  Letty marveled at how the car engine continued to run, carrying them down the dirt road made bright by the two beams of light. Tired from the long ride and the emotional stress, she sat inside the curve of Mike’s arm, her shoulder tucked into his armpit, her hip and thigh in contact with his. Few words were spoken, but Letty and Mike communicated silently. He hugged her closer to him and occasionally dropped a kiss on the side of her head. She squeezed his hand.

  She was now legally Mrs. Mike Dolan. The justice of the peace, after a brief private conversation with Wallace, seemed to be glad to accommodate them. He got his wife and mother up out of bed to serve as witnesses. Wallace explained to Letty and Mike that he
couldn’t sign as a witness because he wasn’t in the area six years ago. The ceremony that made Letty and Mike husband and wife lasted only slightly longer than the kiss Mike gave her afterward. The signing of the papers took more time.

  “Sweetheart,” Mike whispered while they stood next to the car, waiting for Wallace to finish his business with the man who had married them. “Will you regret not having a wedding you can tell our grandchildren about?”

  “What makes you think I won’t tell them about it? I’ll just fail to mention that we already had a five-year-old son. They’ll think it exciting.”

  Letty giggled and glanced in the back seat of the car. Fellon lay where Mike had tossed him. On the way to Weatherford they had stopped in Briskin for gasoline and when Wallace inquired, he had been told where to find the man he was looking for—in a shack beside the tracks. He and Mike had gone inside while Letty waited nervously in the car. Minutes later, Mike had come out carrying the man on his shoulder.

  “Is this kidnapping?” Letty had asked worriedly.

  “Kidnapping?” Wallace snorted. “Who’s going to charge a doctor with kidnapping a patient who needs treatment?”

  “Wallace Hakes, you’re taking advantage of your profession,” Letty teased.

  “Yeah, maybe. The no-good slob has been drinking distilled alcohol used for car radiators.”

  “I’d think it would kill him.”

  “It will sooner or later. But right now he doesn’t care. He’d sell his mother’s eyeballs for enough to buy a gallon of white lightning. Tie the bastard up, Mike. We don’t want him sobering up and jumping out.”

  They had left Weatherford with Wallace hunched over the wheel, one of his hands leaving it occasionally to push his eyeglasses up on his nose. They passed farms and drove through small towns where not a single light was visible. When they needed gasoline, they stopped at a station that was closed for the night. Wallace pounded on the door of the adjoining house, shouting that he was a doctor and needed gas. The response was immediate, and soon they were on their way again with Mike at the wheel.