Pete wiped the oil from his face and grinned broadly. “You got a pen?” he said.
“Right here!” the oil man said. “Sign it quick, because you’re going to get lots of offers, but we’ll stick with you all the way, Pete. You sure showed Kingman!”
Ted Kingman turned to see his father coming up the hill with some of his tough hands. He walked forward to meet him and said nothing, but defiantly faced him.
Horace Kingman took one look at his son and swallowed hard. “That oil needs to be capped,” he said. “You might ask your friend Stuart if he needs some help.”
Maury had come up beside Ted. She took his arm, and Ted turned to smile at her. He looked back and said, “This is your future daughter-in-law, Maury Stuart, Dad. I’m not asking permission.”
There was something in Ted Kingman—a new toughness—that pleased Horace. He pulled his hat off and stared down at the ground for a moment. When he lifted his eyes, he said, “I’m happy to meet you, Miss Stuart.” He hesitated still more and said, “I’d like to think there’s another side to me than what you’ve seen. Maybe you would give me a chance to show it.”
“I think I’d like that, Mr. Kingman,” Maury said evenly. “You might start by stopping that oil. Pete’s losing money.”
Kingman at once yelled, “All right, you birds, get that oil well capped!”
Kingman moved closer and studied the clear face of the young woman. He put his hand out tentatively in a strange, almost helpless gesture. “I guess–I guess I’ve got a lot to say, but I’m not used to backing down. You might have to help me a little.”
Maury saw the similarity in some of the features of the two men—and took the hand. “I think we could arrange that. Maybe you could have dinner with Ted and me tonight?”
Horace Kingman swallowed again and seemed to have trouble speaking. “I–I’d like that very much. Just tell me when and where.”
“Come along, Dad. Maybe we could give those fellows a hand,” Ted said. He slapped his father on the shoulder—something he had never done before—and laughed at the expression in the older man’s eyes. The two of them turned quickly to where the roughnecks were tearing into the crumbled oil derrick.
Maury was still watching them when Amos came to stand by her. “Looks like you’re going to have a rich family. Maybe I can put the bite on you for a few bucks now and then.”
Maury turned and put her arms around him and began to cry. “Oh, Dad, I’m so happy!” she mumbled, pressing her face against his cheek.
Amos held his daughter for a while and said, “Come along. We’ll go tell your mother.”
Two days later, after a great deal of frantic activity, Violet was walking slowly around the pump that had been installed over the old derrick. Dent was with her, and suddenly she looked across and saw something that made her smile. “Look, there’s Ray with Winona—and Maury with Ted.”
Dent looked at the two couples for a long time, then turned to face her. “Looks like they’re pairing off, doesn’t it?” He hesitated for a moment and said, “I’d like to get out of here. Let’s go back to Arkansas, Violet.”
At once, she said with relief, “I’m ready, and we’ll take Bailey back. He’ll like it there.”
“We’ll go in the morning. Say your good-byes tonight.” He looked around the barren land. “It’ll sure be good to see some fields and hills again!”
THE END AND THE BEGINNING
President Herbert Hoover fought valiantly to retain the office of the presidency in 1932. He prophesied that a Democratic victory would mean that, “The grass will grow in the streets of a hundred cities.” Most of the voters, however, remained unconvinced. Almost everyone felt that the American system needed desperate measures to be saved.
The man who offered an alternative was Franklin Delano Roosevelt. FDR—born to a patrician Hudson River family, graduate of Harvard—was different from any candidate who had thrown himself into a presidential race. Before his nomination, he appeared to many to be merely a nice man who very much wanted to be president.
He soon, however, electrified the country with a bold, aggressive campaign. Now with a wide radio network at his disposal, he set out to prove his physical vigor and exert his personal magnetism. He promised a “New Deal” to the “forgotten man.” In contrast to Hoover, he promised to use the power of government to ease unemployment, to develop public power, and to sponsor a broad program for social welfare.
Roosevelt was elected overwhelmingly and was immediately faced with a fearful number of tasks. He had to restore the shattered economy and give a new sense of purpose to the federal government. Most of all, he had to restore the faith of a nation that seemed stricken by fear.
The country was in a terrible condition. Rud Rennie, the baseball writer, mentioned his journey with the New York Yankees from their training camp, describing the Southern cities as having been ravaged by an invisible enemy.
Back in the Ozarks, however, surrounded by the rolling hills and the green forest, Violet Ballard was not as aware of the political scene as were others in the country. She’d come home with Dent, accompanied by Bailey. Ray had chosen to remain at Pete’s to work in the oil field, for a while at least. To Violet, coming back home was like moving out of a terrible storm into a calm, placid harbor.
Logan Stuart met his daughter early one morning, a week after her return, coming back from a walk just at dawn. As she entered the door, he admired the dark blue of her eyes as he always did. “Been out walking?” he asked.
“Yes, Pa. How’s Ma this morning?”
“I think she’s better. She says she’s going to get up and fix dinner for us.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “She looks better. I think she’s going to be all right.”
The house shook as Bailey came walking into the room. He wore a pair of overalls, still stiff and new, and he put his fingers in the straps of the bib and grinned broadly. “I like these new overalls you got me, Violet. They just fit!”
“You look just like a farmer, Bailey,” Violet smiled. “What are you going to do today?”
“Chop wood.” Bailey had quickly learned how to saw down trees, and splitting wood seemed to come natural to him. He already had an enormous stack alongside the house. He moved to the door and said, “But first I’m going to milk the cow.”
After the door closed behind him, Logan shook his head. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such a feller for work! He’s strong as a bull and he learns quick. Only thing is, he’s liable to wear the mules out—as much as he likes to work!”
They laughed at the thought of it, and soon Anne came in and they sat down to the breakfast that Violet had cooked. Anne did look better. There was color in her cheeks and she had gained some weight. She appeared happier than she’d been in a long time. “Did you tell Violet about the letter Pete sent?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance.” Logan reached in the pocket of his overalls and pulled out a letter. “It just came yesterday. You was out at the lake fishing when it did. Never could understand anyone fishing in the wintertime. It’s too cold.”
“I like it. I wish it’d snow. What did Uncle Pete say?”
“He didn’t say much, just a note. But lookee here.” He held out a small slip of paper, and when Violet leaned over, she saw that it was a check. When she saw the amount, her eyes opened wide. Her father chuckled. “How ’bout that? It looks like it pays to have a big oil man as a brother.”
“Well, that was nice of Uncle Pete. What’s it for?”
“Part of it is for getting ready for the reunion. Guess we’ll all be here this Christmas, kids and all. Pete told me to rent the Delight Hotel—rooms for everybody, and the dining room to have our big reunion party in.”
“Oh, Pa, that’ll be fun! We can have music and dancing, I bet, too.”
“You bet! And I’m going to have a big tree set up right in the middle of that room to put the presents under.” He looked at Anne fondly. “It’ll be nice to be able to buy p
resents for all the young ’uns this year, won’t it, Annie?”
“Yes, it will.” Anne looked out the window suddenly and said, “Look, I think that’s Dent.”
The sound of a car stopping and then the door slamming echoed, and almost at once Dent’s footsteps sounded. “Anybody home?” The door opened and Dent came breezing in. “Well, what a coincidence—just in time for breakfast.”
Violet glared at him. “I don’t think you’ve come to this house a single time except when we’re eating!”
“My mama didn’t raise no fool.” Dent grinned. “I know where the good cooking is.” He moved around the table, leaned over, and kissed Anne on the cheek. “My, you’re looking right pretty this morning, Miz Anne.” He winked at Logan. “You’d better watch out. One of these good-looking bachelor fellas might come along and take this young lady away from you.”
“Get away from me, you crazy thing!” Anne said, but she was pleased with his teasing. She always brightened when he came into a room. “Sit down there and eat your eggs while you tell me what you’ve been doing.”
Dent sat down and began at once to describe a hunting trip he’d made. His eyes were bright and his hair was growing down over his collar. He ate prodigiously and when Logan told him about the reunion, he nodded. “That’s good. I like to see families get together around Christmas.”
“Well, you’d better be there, Denton,” Anne said. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without you around—you and your foolishness.”
“Come on out to the car, Violet. I’ve got something to show you.” Dent got up and Violet followed him out to the car. He opened the door of the Model T and pulled out a long package. Ripping the paper off, he said, “It’s kind of a pre-Christmas present. Look at that!”
Violet saw that it was a new twelve-gauge shotgun. He placed it in her hands and she looked at him in bewilderment. “What’s this for?” she said.
“Why, it’s for you. Me and you are going duck hunting tomorrow. Nothing like a fat, juicy duck along with some rice and biscuits.”
Violet held the gun up and said, “Why, I’ve never had a gun before.”
“It’s about time you did,” Dent said. “Be ready about three. I won’t blow the horn. You come on out and we’ll sneak off so we don’t wake the folks up.”
“Why, that’s the middle of the night! Three o’clock in the morning?”
“That’s right. I want to be in the blind when the ducks come in. We’ve got quite a drive to make, so wrap up warm.” He reached out and pinched the lobe of her ear. “You’d better bring some vittles along, too. A body gets kind of hungry out there in the blinds.” He leaned over suddenly and kissed her cheek, then he cranked up the Model T and hopped in. “See you at three!” he yelled as he tore out full speed down the rutted road.
Violet turned and went inside the house holding the shotgun.
“What in the world is that?” Anne demanded.
“A brand-new shotgun. Dent gave it to me.” She smiled and said, “We’re going duck hunting at three o’clock in the morning.”
Anne and Logan exchanged looks as the girl left the room, carrying the shotgun with her. “What do you make of that, Annie?” Logan said. “Kind of a strange gift for a fella to give a young woman. Seems like he’d brought flowers or something if he was courting.”
“I don’t think Dent’s courting. He’s past the age for that and Violet’s too young for him. He just likes her, that’s all.”
December twenty-fourth at the Delight Hotel was unusual. The hotel was packed. It was a small place anyhow, with only fifteen rooms, and every one of them was filled.
Amos and Rose had made the trip from Chicago with Maury and Ted. Lylah and Jesse were there with Adam, and Bonnie and Jerry had come with them from California. Owen was there with his wife, Allie, and their three children, William Lee, Woodrow, and Wendy. Logan had even moved Anne into the hotel with Clinton and Violet; Helen was there with her new husband, Gordon Sanders. Pete had brought Leslie and Stephen and Mona, and Ray had come with them from Oklahoma. Lenora was there. Gavin and Heather had come, bringing their children, Phillip and Sidney. Christie and Mario were there with their young children, Maria and Anthony. Bailey bunked with Ray and Ted, just like when they’d worked on the oil rig together.
On Christmas Eve, every light in the dining room was on. The tables were loaded with turkey, corn bread dressing, sweet potatoes, ham, and greens—not to mention the pies, cobblers, and cakes that adorned one special table. A fifteen-foot cedar tree stood at one end of the dining room, covered with the ornaments, silver rope, and lights that the children and young people had worked so hard on. The reunion had actually been going on for two days, more or less, as everyone arrived—but now after the meal, when all were as stuffed as they could be, Amos stood to his feet and pounded on the table, yelling, “Let’s have a little quiet around here!”
Slowly the noise filtered down and Amos grinned. “I certainly have enjoyed listening to all of you eat,” he said. “You really sounded good.”
“You didn’t do too bad yourself,” Owen called out. “I could hear you clear across the table, Amos.”
There was a great deal of banter and Amos allowed it to go on for some time. He looked across the room and his face grew thoughtful. “I don’t have any long speech to make,” he said. “I’m just thankful to God that we’re all here. I remember,” he said, “when we were just kids together. Those were mighty hard times, but God has kept us all alive and he’s prospered us. I want us to take time right now to thank him for it. Owen, will you offer thanks for us?”
They all stood and held hands, and Owen began to say a fervent prayer of thanksgiving. He mentioned the names of all the children, naming a particular need of each. Ted Kingman, who had been invited specially for this occasion, stood by Maury and felt there was a warmth to the prayer and honesty that he was glad to hear. After the prayer was over, each of the sons and daughters of Will and Marian Stuart had to stand and say something. They went around laughing at themselves and remembering the good things. Finally, Amos said, “I’d like to propose a toast.” They all held their glasses high. “I propose a toast to our Pa, William Stuart, and our Ma, Marian Edwards Stuart.” He paused for a moment and said quietly, “They don’t make them like those two very often. So, here’s to them and to all of us. I would also like to invite everyone to a wedding! Jerry and Bonnie and Maury and Ted are getting married in a double ceremony next month!”
Afterward came the opening of the presents and still later, the old hotel rang with the sound of laughter and talk. Finally, the dining room emptied and the hotel grew silent. The next day, the visitors left, and the Delight Hotel was restored to its normal state. But none of the Stuarts ever forgot the reunion of 1932!
Violet was restless. She had done all of her work and now was walking through the house looking for something to sew or for something to read. Actually she wanted to do neither. She had been dissatisfied ever since the reunion. Now it was the middle of January, and she realized that she had been snappy and irritable with her father and mother, and even with Bailey. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” she said aloud, stopping before the grandfather clock and looking up into the face of it. “Maybe getting older is doing this to me.” As she listened to the loud tick-tock, tick-tock of the heavy pendulum, she remembered, when she was a child, standing in front of it, moving her head in time with it. She turned and went into the kitchen, fixed a cup of cocoa, and sat drinking it, and reflected on her eighteenth birthday celebration with the family the week before.
She was alone in the house, her parents having gone to visit friends down the road. “I ought to write a letter,” she said, “there’re so many to write—but I don’t want to.” She forced herself to pull a book off the shelf. It was a novel she hated the first time she’d read it and hated it even more as she began it again. She was glad when she heard a car come up the road. The fields were covered with snow and cars had not moved, up until two
days earlier. But now the sun had melted it enough so that the snow was packed down and some travel was possible. Leaping up, she ran to the window and saw that it was Dent. Throwing the book across the room, she ran to the door to meet him. He left the engine running, and she said, “Go shut it off and I’ll fix you some cocoa.”
“Nope. Get your coat on.”
“What for?”
“Don’t ask questions, Violet. That’s your problem—you always have questions.” Dent, grinning broadly, turned her around and pushed her back into the house.
Violet had no idea where Dent was going this time. He’d shown up like this several times, however, since they’d returned from Oklahoma, as he had when he had taken her duck hunting. She put on her heavy mackinaw and pulled a wool cap down over her ears, and she thought about the hunting trip. She had shot at ducks and missed them all, but Dent had hit four. They had brought them home, dressed them, and all the family had eaten a fine duck supper the next night.
She left the house, walked down the steps carefully to avoid slipping on the ice, then got into the car and slammed the door. “We’re not going duck hunting, I take it. I don’t see your gun.”
“Nope, not this time. Hang on now!”
Dent always seemed to drive, wherever he went, at full speed. He went skidding down the road, sometimes spinning the car halfway around, so that she was thrown against him. “Dent, don’t drive so crazy! You’re going to kill us both.”
He had merely laughed at her and grabbed her around the shoulders and held her tight. “Here, I’ll hang on to you. You’ll be safe that way.”
She enjoyed the weight of his arm around her. He held her close for a moment and she stole a glance at his chiseled features. He looks so young, she thought. He’ll always look that way. His daddy was the same way. He always looked young, even when he was sixty years old. The DeForge men never seem to get old. I wonder if his wife will like that! She glanced at him again as if he might have overheard her thoughts.
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