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Tumbleweed Weddings

Page 8

by Donna Robinson


  “But what about our patrons?” What about my job?

  “The townspeople can drive to the Niobrara County Library.”

  “But that’s in Lusk.”

  Bruce nodded. “Our citizens drive to Lusk for a lot of things. I guess everyone can use their library, too.”

  Vern grinned. “You can have a big book sale, Callie. It’ll be fun.”

  Fun? That was not the way she wanted to sell books.

  An hour later, Callie sat at the checkout desk, her chin in her hand, thinking depressing thoughts. Bruce and Vern had left the premises with Vern muttering something about raising all the councilmen’s salaries. He just wants the town’s money for himself.

  Another depressing thought pierced her mind. Thanks to Tonya’s interruption on Friday night, Lane had not kissed her after their date. And it sure looked like he wanted to.

  Tonya could have waited a few minutes to tell her about Grandma. Mom and Derek hadn’t left for another half hour.

  But Callie wondered if she should get involved with Lane. She still didn’t know what he did for a living. Sure, he said he was an agent—but what kind? Besides, she hadn’t seen him since he roared off on his motorcycle Friday night. He hadn’t come to the library on Saturday, and he wasn’t in church on Sunday. The fact that he had skipped church really bothered her. All she could do was pray that he would get his heart right with God.

  The front door opened to admit Agatha Collingsworth. “Howdy, Callie! Brought back that big-hair book.”

  Aggie’s own hair looked bigger than ever. Today it was tinted green and teased into a swirl in the back. A green butterfly barrette resided in the fluffy nest above her right ear.

  “Oh, I wish I could keep this book!” Aggie laid Fixing Big Hair the Texas Way on the counter. “I tried all the hairstyles I liked. Course some are a little out-of-date.”

  A little? Callie pulled the book toward her. “Do you want to renew it?”

  “Nah, I’m done with it, but I had so much fun whipping up the styles.” Agatha brushed bejeweled fingers lightly against her hair. “Actually, Lucille found me another book about hair. It’s one of your own here at Dorsey-Smythe.” She pointed at the reserved books. “Look behind ya, sugar. She said she’d hold it for me.”

  It only took Callie a few seconds to find the volume. She pulled it out. “Must be this one. Beauty Tricks and Tips.” The model on the front cover looked like she was from the 1980s.

  “Oh, look at this!” Aggie gazed at the cover. “I love it already! Wish I could buy books like this, but they just don’t sell these good ones nowadays.”

  “If you wait a couple weeks, you could buy this one.”

  Aggie looked at her with an arched brow. “So it’s true about this place being torn down?”

  Now Callie quirked a brow. “You heard about it?”

  “I heard through the grapevine about the building inspector. And now that uppity town council says they ain’t gonna build a new library.”

  “The inspector has already come and condemned this place.”

  “No!” Aggie’s eyes widened. “The mansion ain’t that bad off.”

  Callie shrugged. “I guess it is, Aggie. According to Bruce and Vern, the council wants to sell off all the books, flatten the building in two months, and have everyone patronize the county library in Lusk.”

  “Well, if that don’t beat all!” Agatha hit her fist on the counter. “It ain’t going to happen, I tell you. We’ll protest.”

  “Aggie …” Callie shook her head.

  “Besides, if the building was falling down around our ears, why would the inspector give us two months to vacate? I tell you, sugar, it ain’t that bad.” “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Course I’m right. This building can be fixed. How many people are in here right now?” She looked around as if expecting them to materialize. “Let’s get everybody together and have a good old town protest.”

  Before Callie could argue with Aggie’s plan, the older woman tramped into the conservatory. “Yoo-hoo, ya’ll come upstairs to the conference room. We have a problem to settle.” She strode to the main room and hollered the same words.

  Callie rolled her eyes. Agatha Collingsworth was one of a kind, but a little hope seeped back into Callie’s soul. Maybe they could save the Dorsey-Smythe library from extinction.

  “I can’t believe it!”

  “They can’t tear down this library!”

  “Why, this library has been here since I was a kid!”

  Callie jumped up on a step stool, which was used to get to the higher shelves, and motioned with her hands. “Everyone, calm down!”

  The talk died as Callie glanced around the conference room. If only Aggie hadn’t blurted out the news about the library’s demise, Callie could have explained everything in a calm way. The crowd looked at her expectantly.

  The library patrons ranged from a few moms with children to several teenagers and a number of older people. She estimated at least twenty-five people filled the room. Most stood clustered in groups, although several sat at the tables.

  “Okay.” She expelled a breath. “All we know is that a building inspector was here this morning. He condemned the mansion, and Bruce MacKinnon said the council has already voted not to build a new building. We’ll sell off all the books before they tear down this place.”

  “How long before they tear it down?” Horace Frankenberg asked.

  “Two months.”

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  “But, Callie.” Mrs. Anderson, seated at one of the tables, raised her thin hand. “What are we going to do without a library in Fort Lob?” Her head of snow-white hair quivered slightly as her blue eyes gazed up.

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to drive to Lusk and—”

  “What goes on here?” Vern Snyder stepped into the room.

  Agatha placed her hands on her ample hips. “This is a protest meeting, Vern! You town-council people think ya’ll are so high and mighty! Well, we are protesting your decision to close down our library.”

  “You think so, do you?” Vern glanced around. “Huh! Don’t look like much of a protest to me.”

  Callie sighed. “We’re just giving out information right now. Some of the—”

  “No! We’re protesting!” Agatha looked around. “Who wants this library to close down?”

  She waited a split second, but no one moved. “See? Everybody’s in favor of keeping the library open, just as is.”

  “But, Aggie, the building has been condemned.” Vern folded his arms. “The inspector said the floors are bad, the electricity should be replaced, the plumbing is old. The whole place is a disaster waiting to happen. Someone could get hurt.”

  “So the town needs to spend some money on repairs.” Aggie touched the barrette in her hair. “What’s a little money? We could all throw in a few bucks, don’t ya’ll think?”

  The crowd glanced around before a murmur of voices broke out and got louder.

  Callie raised her hands. “Listen, everyone!” She waited for the crowd to quiet. “We need to know what the general consensus is about this. How many want to keep the library open at Fort Lob?”

  Everyone began talking at once, and several people raised their hands.

  Vern pulled out a chair and hopped up on it. “Folks! You can’t vote on this.” He glared at Callie. “What do you think you’re doing? The town council has already decided to shut down the library and not build another one.”

  Once more Mrs. Anderson raised her hand. “But what will we do without a library in town?” She glanced around before continuing in a small, quivery voice. “I come here every Monday and Friday—Callie knows. It takes me eight minutes to walk from my house. But I don’t own a car, so how can I drive to Lusk every week?”

  “Am I hearing you right, Shirley?” Vern stuck his finger in his ear and twirled it around. “You want the council to keep this library open just to support your book habit?”

  “Vern!”
Aggie glared at him. “That ain’t nice.”

  “The town council is supposed to represent the citizens!” said one of the men.

  “Where will the children go in the summer?” asked a mother.

  Aggie folded her arms. “See? Ya’ll can’t close it down.”

  For the third time, Callie raised her hands as a babble of voices broke out. “Let’s work something out, folks! Who would like to meet with the town council to discuss this?”

  Hands shot up all over the room.

  “Aha!” Aggie had both hands in the air. “Looky here, Vern, we are in protest mode. How about we meet tomorrow night at the Elks lodge on Pronghorn Avenue? Everyone in favor say ‘Aye.’ ”

  The ayes resounded throughout the room.

  “Now, Aggie.” Vern stepped down from the chair. “You’re not following Robert’s Rules of Order.”

  Agatha ignored him. “Tomorrow night, citizens! Seven o’clock at the Elks lodge. Ya’ll spread the word. Let’s go!”

  The library patrons filed out amid a low hum of conversation.

  Aggie thumped her finger against Vern’s chest. “You, Mr. Vern Snyder, can tell the town council about the protest meeting. And if they don’t show, our protest just might turn into a town riot.” She cackled a laugh as she waltzed from the room.

  Callie stepped off the stool. She and Vern were the only ones left.

  “Really now, Callie. You can’t seriously think you can change the council’s mind.”

  “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night, won’t we?”

  Vern shook his head. “Bruce is not going to like this.”

  Callie smiled. For once she was glad Bruce was not here to intervene.

  Chapter 11

  On Tuesday night, Callie stood beside Cheyenne at the back of the Elks lodge meeting room. The open windows and two fans circling above did little to move the stifling air. Both young and old citizens of Fort Lob filled row after row of folding chairs set on the dusty wooden floor. It looked like the entire town had turned out. Not one chair remained empty, and about fifty people stood in the aisles.

  Murray Twichell strutted back and forth at the front of the room before taking a position near the platform with his arms folded. He surveyed the crowd.

  Chance Bixby sat halfway back on the south side of the building, and Agatha Collingsworth’s green-tinted hair could be seen above the crowd on the north side. Miss Penwell was missing since she had elected to keep the library open during the meeting.

  Lane Hutchins was not there, either. Callie had called him that afternoon, but he seemed reluctant to come.

  Callie sighed as Ralph Little, the balding treasurer of the town council, droned on about the need to close the library. A few heads in the crowd nodded when he spoke of the low taxes the citizens paid.

  “Now, unless you want us to raise those taxes—” He stepped back as the microphone emitted a high-pitched whine. “We need to shut down the Dorsey-Smythe permanently.”

  He took his seat amid a spattering of applause. Most of the hand clapping came from the front row, where the nine members of the town council sat. Some of the other citizens looked like they had been lulled into a stupor.

  Bruce MacKinnon ascended the wooden platform and took the mic off its stand. “For the past hour and a half, your town council has spoken. It is clear why we need to close the library. If there are no questions or comments, we will close this meeting.” He glanced around. “Is there anyone from the floor who wishes to speak?”

  Finally! Callie strode down the middle aisle, waving her hand, hoping Bruce wouldn’t change his mind and close the meeting anyway. Frowning, he handed her the microphone.

  Callie took a deep breath. “Citizens of Fort Lob.” She paused as the back door opened and Lane slipped in. Oh, thank You, Lord! For the space of a heartbeat, their eyes met, and she smiled.

  People began to turn around, craning their necks to see what she was staring at.

  Callie cleared her throat and turned her attention to the men seated in the front row. “The town council is unanimous about shutting down the Henry Dorsey-Smythe Library. However, many of our citizens, including me, do not want to close it.” She looked out over the crowd. “Now, I ask you folks—isn’t the town council supposed to vote according to the wants and needs of the people they represent?”

  Fortunately, the citizenry came to life, and several people shouted out affirmations.

  “Let me tell you something.” Callie spoke softly into the mic, and the room quieted. “Four months ago, the town council cut the library’s spending to zero. We couldn’t buy any new books. That’s why we have to order them from Casper on the interlibrary loan system.”

  Several men in the front row folded their arms.

  “Not only that but the council let the library’s repair fund run completely dry.”

  “That’s right!” Chance shouted. “I didn’t have money to fix nothing. No wonder the building is condemned.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd as Bruce stood. “Callie has the floor right now, Mr. Bixby. Please wait your turn.” He sat down and nodded for her to continue.

  “Here’s my point.” She took a deep breath. “I believe the council decided several months ago to close down the library, and—”

  Vern jumped up. “Now just a doggone minute!” His face tinged red as he glanced at Bruce and then sat down. “I’ll refute that when you’re finished.”

  Callie rushed on. “They have also wanted Miss Penwell to retire, but she has refused to step down from her position as head librarian.”

  The councilmen exchanged wary glances.

  Callie caught Lane’s eye. He grinned and raised his thumb in the air. She continued, more confident. “So, I believe the council’s decision to tear down our library and not build a new one stems from two reasons. First, they claim this will save the town money, but they really want to raise their own salaries.”

  A buzz of conversation went through the lodge. Callie glanced at Vern, who folded his arms and glared at her.

  “Second, they’ll be able to get rid of Miss Penwell.”

  “Just fire her!” someone shouted. “We want our library!”

  A chorus of voices broke out with similar sentiments, and several people stood to shout out their convictions. Callie replaced the mic and stepped off the platform.

  Murray strode to the platform and grabbed the mic stand. “We will not have this meeting erupt into a riot! All of you—sit down!” The microphone responded with a loud high-pitched whine.

  Amid the noise, Callie made her way to the back, where Lane stood beside Cheyenne.

  He smiled and placed his arm around Callie’s shoulders, giving her a quick friendly squeeze. “Great job, Callie.”

  She expelled a happy sigh. “Thanks.”

  Cheyenne gave her a high five. “What a speech, girl. I can’t believe how calm you were. You really told them like it is.”

  Callie shrugged. “I hope it did some good.”

  The three of them stood in the back as one townsperson after another came forward to add their support for the library. After each speech, one of the councilmen took the mic and refuted what had just been said.

  After a particularly scathing rebuke from Vern Snyder, Callie gave a frustrated sigh. “The council won’t budge,” she whispered to Lane. “They have their minds made up, and it doesn’t matter what the people want.”

  He folded his arms. “That’s the danger of power. Sometimes it goes to people’s heads.”

  Cheyenne tapped Lane on the shoulder. “You should give a speech.”

  “Me?” He looked startled.

  Callie smiled. “That’s a great idea.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not good at that kind of thing.”

  “But, Lane …” Callie placed her hand on his arm. “You told me this was one of the best libraries in the country. Most of our people have never been to another library. We need your input.”

  “I don’t like speak
ing in public, Callie.” He kept his voice low. “Besides, I don’t think it would do any good.”

  “I think it would.” She moved a little closer and stared up at him. “Won’t you do it for your new hometown? Or maybe, for me?” She whispered the last two words and realized she was acting just like Tonya. But she stood still, waiting for his response.

  Lane returned her stare then reached over and slid her glasses down her nose. His face went out of focus, but Callie stared at his eyes and blinked a few times.

  He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Okay, Callie, I’ll do it for you.” He straightened and winked.

  A little thrill ran through her.

  The microphone whined again. “Is there anyone else?” Bruce scanned the crowd.

  Most of the people looked worn down. Several children had fallen asleep in their mothers’ arms. Many older citizens fanned themselves with pieces of paper.

  Callie gave Lane a little push, and he took off toward the front of the room. She adjusted her glasses so she could watch him.

  The crowd stirred as he walked forward. Bruce handed him the mic and sat down.

  Lane took a deep breath. “Uh, I’m new in town. The name is Lane Hutchins.”

  He paused, seemingly surveying the crowd, but Callie thought he looked nervous—like he was about to bolt off the stage. She gave him a thumbs-up, just as he had for her.

  Clearing his throat, he nodded. “I’ve lived in a number of states during the past few years, all in small towns. Every one of those towns had its own library, but none of them were as good as the Dorsey-Smythe.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd.

  “When I first visited the library here at Fort Lob, I couldn’t believe the excellent reference section. Here was a library that had books about Wyoming in its own room. And I heard that Miss Penwell, who was on the town council for eight years—” He nodded to the men in the front row. “Evidently Miss Penwell was instrumental in buying the books in that room.” He smiled, seeming to relax a bit. “The history of Wyoming is fascinating, and you have a great collection at your fingertips. It’s a wealth of information. Don’t let it go! We need to fight to keep the Dorsey-Smythe Library open.”

 

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