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Morning Glory

Page 9

by Carolyn Brown


  "Kids. Don't matter if they're boys or girls. They run everywhere. Walking never does the job, not even if the destination is only halfway across a room," Judith chuckled as she set a plate of pancakes before Libby, cut them into bite-sized pieces, then looked at Briar. "Yours will be ready in a minute. I've got fresh strawberries. Want some on the top with whipped cream?"

  "Sounds good. Thanks" Briar took his place at the head of the kitchen table and waited. Life was good. He'd made a fortune and he had family around him. He'd get over the yearning for something he couldn't have.

  He ate breakfast, kissed Libby goodbye and went to work. The morning went fast. Board of directors meetings. Reports from the new wells in Healdton and even newer ones in Hewitt. One in Ragtown that was looking very promising. Cecil was doing well at the helm out there, managing crews, signing new leases. He was amazed when Judith and Libby opened the door into his office. Judith carried a basket and Libby danced around, her dark curls bouncing with every leap.

  "We're going to the park," she sing-songed.

  Judith patted Briar on the shoulder. "We even brought a blanket to put on the bench so you won't get the seat of your pants wet"

  A young man popped his head in the room. "Excuse me, sir. This just came for you from Cecil. Thought you might like to look at it before you take your lunch."

  "Thank you," Briar took the oversized envelope from him and opened it. He smiled brightly.

  "Is it?" Judith asked.

  "It is," he nodded. "Libby, come here and sit on my lap. I've got something exciting to tell you. We're moving to Oklahoma"

  "Is that at Pittsbird?" she asked.

  "Pittsburg, not Pittsburd," Judith giggled at the child. "No, it's way far away and we'll ride the train. Cecil has bought a farm I wanted very badly while I was out there and it has a nice big house on it. There's lots of land where we can have picnics and you can even have a pony"

  Libby squealed. "And a kitty cat. And a puppy dog. And, and, and-" Her four year old mind couldn't think of another thing.

  "All of it," Briar said. He and Judith had discussed the idea of moving for the past two years and when he'd come home from Healdton and told her about the country there, she'd been more than willing to go. He'd just have to keep his distance from Clara and the whole Anderson family.

  "And a garden out back?" Judith asked.

  "Vegetables or flowers?" Briar smiled up at her. "Both. I want morning glories on the porch. Red roses. Daffodils. Marigolds. Then I want a garden with potatoes and beans, cucumbers, squash. All those things Mother had in her garden. I'd thought if I ever got away from that blasted garden, I'd never wish for one, but here I am, just plumb giddy thinking about getting my hands in the dirt."

  "Then we will have a garden," he said.

  "When?"

  "The house is empty. Anytime you are ready. I'm going to sell off my leases in this part of the world and move the whole Rose Oil Corporation to Healdton. Cecil says here there's an empty building on Main Street up for sale. We'll buy it for an office and he's got a couple of good men in mind to help run it."

  "Then call the movers and let's get this show on the railroad. Think we could be there in a couple of weeks?" she asked.

  "What makes you so anxious?" Briar raised an eyebrow.

  She kissed his cheek. "You, of course, darlin'. Seein' you happy is my biggest desire."

  The blush that filled her cheeks didn't escape his notice, though. There was something more that made Judith so eager to get out of Titusville and relocate to a town as small as Healdton. He wondered what?

  Libby could scarcely sit still long enough to eat her fried chicken at the picnic. She talked nonstop about kitty cats and puppy dogs and could she take all of her doll babies?

  Too soon the picnic was over and the light-hearted feeling of new adventures had to be put aside for the mundane business at hand. With a kiss on Judith's cheek and a fierce hug for Libby, Briar left them to go back to his office.

  "Now, princess, let's go home and get you a nap," Judith told Libby.

  "But I can't sleep. I gots to get ready to go to Opaloma," she said.

  "That's Ok-la-ho-ma," Judith said slowly. "And a nap will help you get ready. It'll make you all fresh so when your daddy comes home tonight, you won't be cranky"

  "Okay," Libby pouted.

  Later that afternoon while Libby slept soundly, Judith sat down at the dining room table and wrote a letter.

  My dearest, dearest darling Cecil:

  I could kiss you a million times and plan to as soon as we get to Oklahoma. I don't care if it's a boom town. I don't care if Healdton is small. If you are there I shall be the happiest woman on earth. Briar says we can possibly be ready to come in only a couple of weeks. He must have already had prospective buyers for the oil company on this side of the world. You are a genius for getting the farm Briar wanted so badly. Remind me to give you another kiss for that. Looking forward to an evening wrapped up in the warmth of your arms.

  Your loving,

  Judith

  Judith loved the farmhouse in Oklahoma. They'd been there less than a week and she had already decided where she would plant roses, where the vegetable garden would be and had already begun to badger Briar about having a lawn party as soon as the house was put together. The furniture had come to Ardmore by train and then to Healdton by freight wagons. With the help of a whole army of oil men, it had been arranged. Boxes upon boxes still remained to be unpacked, but that would be finished before long.

  She arose early on Sunday morning and was already in the kitchen when Briar stumbled in, still half-asleep from all the work the day before. It had been a big day and quite a change from their small house in Pennsylvania. In amongst all the work they'd both lis tened to Libby run in and out the doors at least ten dozen times in search of the big orange cat that came with the farm. It was as round as a pumpkin and evidently there would be a whole passel of kittens soon.

  Judith stirred the meat in a skillet. "Sausage gravy and biscuits?"

  "Sounds wonderful," he said absently.

  "I'm letting Libby sleep a while longer. We don't have to be in church until eleven o'clock and she's played out. Poor little thing chased that cat around until I thought she'd wear her legs off right up to the knees. Briar, I love it here. I'm glad we came. It'll be a fine place to raise Libby."

  "Yes, it will. Oh, I meant to tell you, they have this poetry reading thing at the library once a week. Clara Anderson and her cousin Tilly go, along with a couple of schoolteachers. Might be a way for you to get acquainted."

  `Briar, I can find my own friends. Going to church is always a good start. Will Cecil be there?"

  "He wasn't going to church when I left a month ago, but then there was this sweet, young thing that stayed at the boarding house who was trying to get her claws in him and she goes regularly. She had dollar signs in her eyes and a left hand that was itching for a wedding ring, so if he hasn't outrun her, he might be going now to sit with her. Or if he has outrun her, he might be going to give thanks for good sturdy legs."

  Judith literally paled. After all the things Cecil had written, she hadn't even thought of other women. "Oh?"

  "Yep, her name is Olivia and, honey, she is as flirty as they come. Works at the bank as a teller. One of those liberated women. Remember Myra Lucas. Well, she'd make her look like a saint with a halo and wings," Briar said.

  "No!"

  "Yep, so if you see him sporting a brand new nose ring and her finger is hooked in it, you'll know he's done got himself a brand"

  Judith didn't answer. She couldn't compete with someone younger and prettier. She was thirty years old and, by most standards, an old maid, even if it was modern day 1917. All she'd ever known was keeping house and taking care of Libby. She wasn't a sophisticated bank teller and she surely wasn't liberated enough to go chasing after men. She'd been taught to let them do the chasing.

  "Daddy, is it Sunday?" Libby asked from the doorway into the kitchen. "A
re we going to church?"

  He opened his arms. "Yes, baby girl, we're going to church."

  "Not a baby," she protested, snuggling down into the security of her father's lap.

  Clara awoke with a start after dreaming of Briar holding her closely in a field of clover out behind Tilly's house. The sun had been shining, but there was a tornado forming in the southwest. She shivered even as she sat straight up in the bed and wiped away a bead of sweat from her upper lip. She could see the funnel dropping, feel the stillness of the air and see the green cast coming closer and closer.

  She shook off the covers and inhaled deeply. "Just a dream."

  Reality came back to her in the form of the aroma of cinnamon coming from the kitchen. Dulcie was making breakfast. She opened the door out into the hallway. Light shined from under every boarder's door and she could hear them moving about. All but one room, which was still dark: Briar's room.

  Cecil had come around a few days after Briar had left, but Clara had refused him flatly and there had been a few other inquiries about renting the room, but she'd turned them all down. She didn't want another man in the house at all. Not as long as Olivia was there. And she wasn't ready, not just yet, to give up Briar's room, either.

  Olivia had chased Cecil unmercifully for at least two weeks after Briar disappeared. Cecil had managed to keep ahead of her in the race until she finally gave up and went after another oil man. One named Danny who appeared to be quite taken with her. Being a natural born flirt, she still batted her eyes and put a bit more sashay in her step when any man was within fifty feet of her.

  Clara slipped out into the hallway and entered Briar's old room. She sat down in the rocking chair and let her mind go back to that night. She liked the way she felt when her lips touched his. Alive. Alert. Slightly embarrassed but very happy. Most days she didn't even think about Percy anymore. The suitcase was gone. One day she and Tilly had taken it to Ardmore and left it sitting beside the train station.

  For a few days after he left she could still smell the lotion he used after he shaved when she held a bed pillow, but then she cleaned the room and that was gone, just like he was.

  What kind of fool are you? she asked herself. Sitting here thinking of a man who ran away after one kiss. An oil man at that. One of those she'd declared war against years ago.

  She finally left the rocking chair and slid out the door silently just as Bessie came out into the hall.

  Clara smiled brightly at the older woman. "Good morning. My, oh my, you're already dressed for church."

  "Got to set an example for the younger set. Actually, I'm excited this morning. We finished the altar cloth and we're going to church early to spread it out. Couldn't sleep thinking about it since we've worked so long. I smell cinnamon rolls. I love Sunday morning." Bessie brushed past her.

  "See you at the table." Clara went back into her room. She chose a new dress from her wardrobe: pale blue serge that matched her eyes perfectly. It had a striped collar and belt to match. Tilly had talked her into buying it and then insisted she purchase new white shoes. In a few weeks it would be too late to wear the shoes, so she'd been wearing them almost every Sunday. She combed out her long hair and twisted it up the back of her head into a French roll, fastening it down with a handful of hairpins. She'd put on a white straw hat after breakfast.

  Tilly parked her car in front of the boarding house and inhaled deeply when she opened the door. Yes, there it was. Cinnamon rolls just like Dulcie promised. Tilly would get up early any Sunday morning, even if she had been out until the wee hours on Saturday night, for a plate full of Dulcie's cinnamon rolls. Using the car window as a mirror, she set her hat at a jaunty angle and set off toward the house.

  "Good morning," she called out through the open screen door.

  Bessie motioned her through the foyer and into the dining room. "Just in time. Come on in. Dulcie is just putting the icing on the top. Coffee is ready."

  "Where's Clara?" Tilly asked.

  "She'll be down in a minute. She's still going into his room," Bessie whispered. "But at least she's not going to the bench."

  "Well, I've got a feeling she's going to put the gun back in her purse after church this morning," Tilly said.

  "Why?" Bessie asked.

  "Good morning," Clara said from the bottom of the stairs. "I figured you'd be here early. You could smell a cinnamon roll from thirty miles in any direction with no wind. I believe you could even smell them from Ragtown on a Saturday night when the liquor is flowing freely."

  "Wirt," Tilly corrected her. "They've got a post office and a school now and they're making an effort to be a real town. And they're calling it Wirt, not Ragtown."

  "It'll always be Ragtown to me. That name suits it better," Clara said.

  "And you'll always be cranky," Tilly smarted right back.

  "Why is she going to be upset when she goes to church?" Bessie asked Tilly out of the side of her mouth as Clara went to the buffet to pour coffee.

  "Can't tell you now, but she's not going to be happy," Tilly said.

  At the breakfast table, talk went from the new altar cloth to Olivia's fellow named Danny and how she was thinking a winter wedding would be nice to Dulcie's recipe for cinnamon rolls, even though not a single one of them ever intended to use it. Not as long as Dulcie made them.

  No one mentioned Briar or the fact that he'd moved back to Healdton over the past week, so Tilly sat on pins and needles, figuring she had to tell Clara and not wanting to. She finally decided the time would be right on the way to church in the car. It wouldn't give Clara near enough time, but she'd at least know before services.

  "Oh, Tilly, darlin', Danny has to work this morning, so could I beg a ride from you?" Olivia asked just as Clara and Tilly were leaving the house.

  "Not enough room, Olivia," Clara reminded her. "Tilly had the rear seats removed when she bought the car, so she can only haul one person. But it's a lovely morning and only four blocks to the church, so why don't the three of us walk together."

  Tilly fumed.

  "That would be lovely" Olivia fell into step between Tilly and Clara, and kept up a running monologue about the wonderful qualities of her new beau. To hear her story, he was Prince Charming from the fairy tale.

  The three of them arrived just when the choir began the first song. Tilly led the way inside and slid into the back pew without even looking to see if there were other seats. Then she immediately wished she'd begged off sick that morning. Right in front of them sat Briar Nelson, his family and Cecil.

  Clara busied herself settling into the pew, picking up the hymnal and finding the song everyone was singing. Her alto voice blended beautifully with Olivia's and Tilly's soprano tones. They were into the familiar chorus of "Abide With Me" when Clara looked up and noticed a pretty lady in front of her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a lovely white cotton lawn dress trimmed in pink checks. The look that passed between her and Cecil left no doubt there was something more than friendship involved.

  Clara looked to the next person, a small girl, barely big enough to see above the back of the pew. She, too, had dark hair and a little straw hat trimmed with a wide pink grosgrain ribbon. Beside her sat a man. Clara's eyebrows drew down in a frown. She knew the man, had seen him before, she was sure. Suddenly, it dawned on her. That was Briar Nelson sitting not three feet from her. It was his scent. His hair.

  "And now I would like to welcome a new family to our congregation," the preacher said as soon as the last words of the song were sung. "Briar, Judith and Libby Nelson. Please stand up so the rest of the folks will recognize you after services and can make you welcome." All three stood.

  Clara's heart fell.

  The preacher said some other things, but they didn't sink into Clara's mind. All she could think about was Briar was back and he'd brought his wife and daughter.

  So that's the reason he'd run like a scalded hound after kissing her. He was a married man. And that's w
hy he could give such advice about Percy. A huge anger built a head of steam while the preacher droned on about the evils of liquor, but she didn't hear a word he said. Instead, she watched Cecil play with a stray strand of hair that had come loose from Judith's bun. Goosebumps rose up on Judith's skin. Clara wanted to slap the woman so hard her face turned crimson for letting another man touch her. Poor Briar. Then she remembered that he'd kissed her when he was married to Judith.

  What a quandary, he kissed me. She's letting Cecil touch her neck and evidently liking it. Hells bells, all this oil is making the whole world crazy.

  What was it the preacher had said? Rose Oil was moving its center of operations to Healdton. Briar was the president of the company and had bought the farm adjacent to Tucker's place. The same farm where he'd brought in his first gusher. He and his family would be living right there in Healdton. She'd have to cross paths with them in a town as small as Healdton, see his face and smile at his wife, be nice to his child.

  Briar tried to listen to the sermon, but a prickly sensation on the back of his neck kept his attention elsewhere. He leaned down to whisper something in Libby's ear when she fidgeted too much and out of peripheral vision saw Clara right behind him. Sitting between Tilly and Olivia. Well, now that was a new twist. Clara must have forgiven the preacher to be back in church. He remembered Tilly saying something about her not attending church in ten years. Briar wondered what had been in that letter. He thought about the kiss again and a deep yearning started down deep in his soul for what he couldn't have. He'd known he'd probably see Clara in town from time to time. He hadn't planned on seeing her at church every Sunday.

  Clara needed a few days to get her emotions sorted out. At least a week before the next Sunday services to brace up her nerves and restore her sass. Slowly, during benediction, she arose and slipped out the back door while everyone's head was bowed. She might have to be a lady, but she didn't have to face the ordeal that day. When she got home, she went straight to her room.

  Tilly plowed up the stairs like an elephant on a boardwalk just minutes behind her. She threw open the bedroom door and stomped over to the bed, hands on hips, anger written all over her face. "Get up out of that bed and come down to lunch. Dulcie made chicken and dumplings and the ladies are already talking about Briar and his family. You will not lay up here and be the butt of the jokes. You're going to come down there with a smile on your face and pretend nothing ever happened"

 

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