by Joan Sargent
Mrs. Frailey called to Cliff as they passed: "Thanks, Mr. Warrender, for getting me my hundred dollars back from that Poague. Imagine him! I knowed somebody was peddling the stuff around, but I never thought he had sense enough to be gettin' away with that sort of thing. Well, you never know."
"What will they do if their houses are damaged?" Donna wanted to know.
"Probably go home, anyway, if there's a room left that is roofed over," Cliff told her. "The excitement's over and they are tired. Home sounds mighty good to them right now. We'd better get the desks back in place and begin to check these people out. It'll be night before we can finish."
And they were busy. Shabby cars came and took families away, families who called back thanks for what had been done for them, or grumbles for what hadn't, youngsters who called to each other, making dates for some later time when the weather had cleared, mothers hurrying everyone along with weary nervousness, fathers gruff and impatient, or joking or staggering with the whiskey they had drunk for three days. There were all sorts and kinds, and Donna felt a warmth toward them as they went back to their places.
She and Mary sighed when at last there was some let-up in the stream, and grinned at each other.
"So you landed your man," Donna teased.
Mary preened herself. "I did that. But you know, I might never have if that woman hadn't nearly broken his head."
Donna laughed. "Cliff says it's sympathy that gets 'em. I wouldn't know."
Mary was instantly serious. "But I was sure— You and Cliff seemed so—"
"Give us time, woman," Donna protested. "We've never even had a date."
Hank had gone to a nearby garage and come back with his station wagon. "Bought it to take teams to other schools. Never expected to be taking a mother and baby to a hospital in it."
"Hospital?" Mary asked. "Is Missy—the baby —I thought they were doing fine."
Donna nodded. "So did I, though I've only talked to them through a crack in the door since those children got sick. I do hope the baby won't have measles."
"Nothing's the matter," Hank reassured them. "Jack thought it might be a good idea to see that she was doing as well as we thought for sure. He'd been saving money for the hospital and Donna here saved him that."
"I think it's very wise for them to have a doctor look her over," Donna said. "After all, it was my first delivery."
It was like one of those happy processions at the hospital. Missy came in Mrs. Ward's wheel chair, holding the baby in her arms. Jack moved proudly beside her. Hank went in front and the others walked at some distance to the rear.
"I don't think you could catch measles from us, but you might," Donna warned. "I'd feel terrible if the baby took it."
Missy had remembered something. "I want to talk to you, Miss Ledbury. I hate to yell at you."
Donna laughed. "You do that and be safe, honey."
Jack turned the chair so that Missy was facing Donna at her desk. "We decided not to name this baby for Jack. We're going to save that for a boy."
Donna nodded. "A girl named Jackie and a boy named Jack might make for confusion."
Missy looked embarrassed, diffident. "We hoped you wouldn't mind if we named her after you."
Donna swallowed and her eyes misted. "I'd be flattered. I'd love it. Donna Hartson. Yes, it sounds very well, I think."
"You and Miss LaRue," Missy went on. "She doesn't like her real name and we can't really name the baby "Baby," so it's going to be Donna LaRue Hartson. Miss LaRue likes it. I hope you won't mind our naming her after you and her?"
"I can't think of anybody I'd rather have at hand when I deliver my next baby." Donna grinned. "Or anybody I'd rather share a namesake with. Baby LaRue's wonderful."
There were tears in the young mother's eyes. "Yes'm. She is. You both are. Come to see us, hear?"
"I'll be back to take you home, Mary," Hank called.
"Weren't the Hartsons the last?" Mary asked when she had watched them out of sight.
Donna glanced at her list. "Nobody left, except Dusty Hosey's crowd."
"Then I'll go clean up a bit," Mary decided.
But Donna and Cliff weren't to be alone long. Dusty arrived almost immediately.
"I done all you said, Mr. Warrender," he reported, shaking water from himself much as a dog might. "Then I went home to see how the folks done during the storm."
"You mean you came here when your family stayed at home?" Donna asked, amazed.
He nodded sheepishly. "Don't hardly none of the kids come just because they're scared their house might blow away," he explained. "'Course some of 'em come with their folks. But it's fun, sort of. You never know what's going to happen."
"You can say that again," Donna agreed.
"Only," Dusty's eyes moved from Donna to Cliff, "I sort of hoped— Seemed like you two—"
Cliff put out a big hand and shook the boy's shoulder affectionately. "Who does your courting for you, boy?"
Dusty's eyes widened. "Why—I reckon I do, sir."
"A man likes to," Cliff reminded him.
"And a girl likes him to take a little time about it, Dusty," Donna added gently. "Your Mr. Warrender and I haven't even had a date. Yet."
Her eyes met Cliff's over Dusty's head. Both pairs of eyes were laughing.
Dusty looked once more from one to the other. He grinned then. "I reckon I busted in where I hadn't no business," he admitted. "I reckon I'll pick up my gang and get out of here."
A moment later, the boys went out, strutting cockily as they had come, proud of their recently acquired adult maleness. Donna and Cliff, their hands locked, watched them go.
"I'll go to the garage, get my car and pick you up," he suggested.
"I always liked to walk in the rain," she said.
"Then come along," he agreed. "You had measles?"
"No, I never have," she said, her mouth smiling. "You?"
"Nope," he said, and they both laughed aloud.
Table of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
