Turner's Rainbow 2 - The Rainbow Promise

by Lisa Gregory

  Cal came to his feet. "I don't wanna take a bath."

  "Well, you must," Sarah replied calmly. "Everyone bathes in this house."

  Cal crossed his arms across his chest and looked sullen. "I don't have to."

  "Oh yes, you do." Luke paused on his way out the back door to get the washtub. "You'll do whatever Sarah says."

  "And if I don't?"

  Luke met the boy's defiant gaze with a flat, cool stare. "Then you'll answer to me."

  Cal felt a familiar prickle of fear. For all that Luke didn't thunder like Grandpa or look at him like he wished him dead and in hell, there was something about him that was even more powerful. Cal looked down at his feet, tacitly giving in and disliking himself for his cowardice. Next time, he thought, next time he'd let Luke see he wasn't boneless.

  Luke brought in the large round metal tub in which Emily bathed while Sarah pumped out big pots of water at the sink and put them on the stove to heat. Luke filled the tub halfway up with water, and Sarah added the heated water to it. Cal unbuttoned his shirt reluctantly and took it off. He kept his eyes averted. It embarrassed him having Sarah in the room with him while he undressed. He'd never taken off his clothes around Aunt Rachel.

  Sarah, seeing his embarrassment and understanding the reason, left the room, saying, "I'll run up and get some of Vance's old clothes for him."

  She glanced at Cal as she left the room, and one look at his bare chest and back brought her to a halt. "Cal!"

  Several purpling bruises decorated Cal's back and chest. Scars, some old and white, others new and red, stood out across his back.

  Cal looked up at her. Her eyes were flashing. Cal didn't know what he'd done to make her angry, but obviously he had. He raised his chin and set his face, waiting for the storm to break.

  Sarah turned to Luke, and he nodded, his mouth grim.

  "Oh!" She burst out, her voice furious. "I'd like to get hold of that George Jackson for just ten minutes!"

  Luke chuckled. "I'd bet on you."

  Again, for a moment, there was the old closeness between them, the familiar warmth. Sarah smiled at Luke. She wanted to go to him and have him put his arms around her. But she wasn't sure that he would, anymore. She turned abruptly and left the room.

  Sarah busied herself upstairs, giving Cal time to bathe in private. She had put Vance's old clothes in the attic, intending to tear them up for rags because they were so worn and patched. But they were a long sight better than what Cal had on now. She'd get started on sewing a new set of clothes for him tonight; she had enough material in the attic for that. Saturday when they went into town, she'd buy some more material.

  Sarah smiled, thinking about driving into Willow Springs Saturday with Cal. That would start the tongues clacking. It had been a long time since she and Luke had provided the town with any good gossip. She imagined Julia's face when she saw Luke's son, and her smile grew broader. She knew Julia would love him immediately, simply because he looked so much like Luke.

  Sarah took the clothes down to Luke, then returned to the attic for the material and pattern she and Julia had made for Vance. When she came back down the narrow stairs from the attic, she found Emily sitting in the hall outside her room, playing, and she took her downstairs. Cal and Luke were already gone from the kitchen, leaving Cal's old clothes in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and threw them in the pile of trash outside to be burned; there was no salvaging those things.

  They found Luke and Cal in the barn. Cal looked even more like Luke now that his hair was clean. With the dirt and grease gone, his hair was several shades lighter than it had appeared, though still not the white blond that Luke's had been as a child.

  Emily stopped dead at the sight of the other child, and a sunny smile lit up her face. "Who zat?" she asked, pointing at Cal.

  Cal stared back at her. He'd never seen anyone as beautiful as the little girl in front of him. Pale blond hair curled riotously around her head. Her eyes were huge and blue. Her face was all roses and cream in color, like a porcelain doll. She looked like the cherubic angels he'd seen in the pictures in Grandpa's big Bible, only prettier

  "This is Cal, honey," Luke said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's your brother."

  Emily giggled delightedly. "Bwuzzer?" Sarah doubted that she had any idea what that meant, but still she liked the idea. She liked Cal—and with an immediacy and intensity that was far greater than what she had shown for Vance and Bonnie. Sarah wondered if somehow the little girl sensed that he was closer to her.

  Emily ran to Cal and held up her arms to him. He froze with astonishment, but after a moment he bent awkwardly toward her. Emily threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She was soft and sweet. He'd never smelled anything so good. A funny feeling twisted through him, part sweet, part sad, and painfully intense. His arms tightened around her.

  Emily bussed him soundly on the cheek, then stepped back. "See horsies." She tugged at his hand. "See horsies "

  Luke chuckled. "Okay. We'll show Cal the horses. I think he's as interested in them as you are."

  Sarah returned to the house to finish her work while Emily and Luke showed Cal around the farm. Late in the afternoon a huge black man came into the barn. Luke greeted him easily, and Emily ran over to him, talking a mile a minute in her baby chatter, but Cal retreated a step, fear written all over his face.

  "What is it? What's the matter, Cal?"

  Cal looked at Luke, then back at Micah. "I—he—"

  "The boy's scared of me."

  "No, I ain't," Cal retorted quickly, but Luke could see the truth in his eyes.

  "Why?" he asked. "Micah won't hurt you. He works for me."

  "He around all the time?"

  "Yes. What's wrong, Cal?"

  "He's a Devil's child."

  "A what?"

  "That's what Grandpa says. There's a family of 'em that lives on the way to church. Grandpa says they're black all over 'cause the Devil spawned 'em."

  "Your Grandpa is a godda—well, he's a fool. Look, Cal, Micah's a man. That's all. He's not going to hurt you, I promise."

  Cal glanced at Micah, unconvinced.

  "Your grandpa thinks he's holy, but what he is is cruel and sanctimonious."

  "Sane—what?"

  Luke grinned. "Sanctimonious. What I'm saying is, he thinks he's better than anyone else, but he's not. And he doesn't know everything; hell, he doesn't know much of anything at all. He said I hurt your mother, didn't he, and that wasn't true. He's told you things about yourself that weren't true, either. He's a pious man, but he's not a good one. And he's wrong in what he told you."

  He paused. "After you've been here awhile, you'll see that I'm telling you the truth. Things aren't like he told you."

  Cal looked at Luke. He was afraid to believe him. It was too good, too easy. Things were never like that. He shrugged and turned away from Luke. "I ain't scared."

  Luke glanced at Micah. The other man's face was impassive. "I—uh . .. I'm sorry. His grandfather's a crazy, mean man. Cal'll come around."

  Like Cal, Micah shrugged. "It don't matter"

  They did the evening chores and went back to the house for supper As they walked, Emily put her hand trustingly in Cal's. Cal said nothing, but his hand closed tightly around hers.

  Inside the house they sat down at the big table in the room adjoining the kitchen. The room intimidated Cal, but Emily hopped up into her chair and patted the seat of the one next to her, beaming at Cal. He eased his narrow body into the seat she had indicated. He glanced at Sarah and Luke beneath his lashes, half expecting to be told to get off the chair, but they said nothing. He looked at the table in front of him. It was heaped with even more food than had been on the kitchen table at lunch. The aromas made his mouth water.

  Everyone bowed their heads, and Cal followed suit, resigning himself to a long, fearsome prayer of the sort his grandpa gave at mealtimes. It had always been torture to sit through them with his stomach empty and the food right
there within reach. But Luke's prayer was blissfully short. Afterward they passed the food around, and nobody seemed to care how much he took.

  Cal wasn't very hungry because he had eaten so much at lunch, but still he piled heaps of food on his plate, afraid to let anything pass without taking a helping. He ate until he was stuffed, and when he couldn't take another bite, he stuffed a couple of rolls into his pockets. He didn't know when he'd cat like this again. He couldn't conceive of it happening everyday.

  As they ate dessert, there was a loud knocking on the front door. Sarah rose and went to answer it. Everyone watched her, curious to see who it was. She pulled open the door. A short, stocky man in sweat-stained work clothes stood on the other side. His blocky face was set pugnaciously, and his gray eyes were as cold as the winter sky.

  Cal drew in his breath, rising involuntarily from his seat. He was suddenly cold all over. "Grandpa!"

  Chapter 12

  George Jackson stared right through Sarah. She had never seen such malevolence directed at her before, and she stepped back instinctively.

  "I'm here for Cal. Where is he?" Jackson barked.

  Luke jumped out of his chair and hurried into the entry hall to position himself between Jackson and Sarah. The two men faced each other silently for a long moment. Cal watched them, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. He would have to go back now, he knew, and he wanted desperately not to.

  "Cal is staying in this house." Luke's voice was as calm and cold as Jackson's was heated, but it was even harder.

  "My grandson's not spending even one night in this godless household. You have no right to take the boy away from me."

  "I have every right. I'm his father."

  "You're not a father; you're just the man who raped his mother."

  Luke looked at Jackson levelly. "We both know that isn't true. And we know why Tessa claimed it—to keep you from beating her to death."

  "She spoke the truth."

  "She would have said it was John Wesley if she thought that was what you wanted to hear. But the name you wanted was mine, and the word you wanted was rape."

  "You're the devil's own. And your boy's got the devil in him, too, but I aim to see that the devil's rooted outta that child. He's gonna grow up in God's way."

  "What the hell do you know about God's way?" Luke's eyes flashed blue fire. "You think it's God's way to beat religion into a boy?"

  "The Lord's path is a hard one. Calvin's prone to all the pitfalls. But I'll see to it that he don't fall in with sin."

  "You'll see to nothing. He won't be with you. He's staying right here."

  "You're not fit to raise a child. I'll go to the law and gel him back."

  "Fine. We'll go to court. I'm the boy's natural father. His mother wants me to have him. I have the means to take care of him. Who do you think they'll give the child to?"

  Jackson's face turned red, and veins stood out at his temples. "You have 'em all fooled, don't ya? You dress so fine and act so high-and-mighty, they forget what you are, what you did to my daughter. Well, I don't forget. You can seduce a weak woman like her." He gestured toward Sarah. "Sweet talk her into marrying you and giving you her daddy's land. But you can't sweet talk me. I know you for the vile sinner you are."

  Luke's hand shot out grabbed the other man's shirt, and he jerked him forward. "Don't you ever, ever, talk that way about my wife again. I don't even want to hear her name in your mouth. Do you understand?" He twisted his hand around Jackson's shirt, closing it tightly around his throat. He wound it one more turn. "Do you understand?"

  Jackson nodded shortly, hatred in every line of his face.

  "All right." Luke uncurled his hand slowly and dropped it back down by his side. "Now. Cal is staying here. I want you off my land. If you ever show up here again, I'll meet you with my shotgun."

  Jackson glared and his hands doubled up into fists. But Luke stood poised, ready for him, and Jackson stepped back. "You'll regret this, Turner."

  Luke said nothing, simply keeping the same cold stare on him. Jackson made a low growl of frustration and left.

  Luke closed the door and turned around. Sarah was smiling at him, her face pink with pleasure and all the old love in her eyes. It made his heart start to hammer.

  He looked into the dining room. Cal stood stock-still, and his tanned skin was pale, his eyes huge.

  "Cal? You all right?"

  Cal wet his lips and nodded. He'd never seen anybody stand up to his grandfather before. He would never have believed it possible. But Luke had done it. Luke had faced the terrifying old man down—and he'd done it for him.

  "Don't worry about it, son," Luke told him gently, and the blue eyes, a moment ago so cold and hard, warned. "He won't get you back. I won't let him."

  Cal's legs began to tremble, and he sat down abruptly. Luke walked past him and ruffled his hair. Cal had never before felt a gesture of affection from a man, and tears started in his eyes. He blinked them away, hating his weakness.

  "Well," Sarah said, restoring the moment to mundane reality. "It's almost time for bed. Why don't you children go play while I do the dishes? Then I'll put you to bed."

  Playing wasn't something Cal was used to either, for Grandpa firmly believed in the axiom that "idle hands are the Devil's playground." Emily was happy to introduce him to the concept. Sarah smiled, listening to her daughter's squeals of laughter from the other room. The boy had a good heart, she thought, like Luke.

  When Sarah finished the dishes, she made up the bed in the room Julia had occupied when her family stayed at their house. She couldn't put him in the room Vance had used because Luke was still sleeping there. Sarah felt a fresh stab of hurt at the thought. It was so lonely in her bed at night.

  She sent Cal to his room to undress, giving him a nightshirt Vance had worn, while she dressed Emily for bed and read her a story. When she was through listening to Emily's baby's prayer, she went into Cal's room.

  He stood in the middle of his room, dressed in the faded nightshirt. He looked pitifully thin and alone to Sarah.

  "Well." Sarah smiled at him. "Looks like you're all ready." She went to the bed and turned down the covers. She patted the sheets. "Hop in."

  Stiffly Cal climbed into the bed and sat there. Sarah pulled up the covers over his feet. "Are you too big a boy for a bedtime story?"

  He looked at her in confusion. "You mean, readin' from the Bible?"

  "Well, if you want, I could. But I meant a bedtime story, like the ones I read Emily."

  "I don't know." His face became shuttered. Sarah had seen the look often enough on Luke's face when she first met him to know what it meant. Cal wasn't sure what she was talking about and was embarrassed by that fact.

  Sarah got the book from Emily's room and sat down on the side of Cal's bed. She chose one of the fairy tales with action and adventure as more suited to his age and sex. He listened intently, his eyes fastened on the colorful pictures in the book, his mouth slightly open. When she finished the story and shut the book, he gazed up at her in wonder.

  "Did you like that?"

  He nodded.

  "Good. We'll read another one tomorrow night. Now it's time to say your prayers and go to sleep."

  Cal knelt beside the bed with Sarah, thinking that this time the prayer was bound to be long and full of sin and repentance. But Sarah folded her hands and merely thanked God for the day and its blessings, ending by saying, "And thank You most of all for bringing Luke's son to us. Please help us to become a strong and loving family in Christ. Amen."

  She rose, and Cal opened his eyes in amazement. He scrambled to his feet before she could change her mind. He got into bed, and Sarah pulled the covers up around him. They looked at each other for a moment, then she leaned down and softly kissed the top of his head. Cal froze. Her scent was all around him, sweet and warm. He wanted to throw his arms around her and hold on. But he didn't.

  Sarah straightened and walked out the door. Cal look
ed around the room. It was twice as big as the one he'd shared with his grandpa back home and far lovelier. The bed was soft and deep, and the sheets were cool and clean, scented with the outdoors. The window was halfway open, and the curtains moved in the slight breeze. It was all so soft, so nice, so good.

  He slipped out of bed and padded softly around the room. He touched the posts of the bed, the colorful quilt folded across the foot, the dresser top with its long lace runner, the minor, the china figurine, the washstand. It was his room. All his. He wanted to believe it. But he didn't dare let himself. He didn't even dare let himself hope. It couldn't last; it couldn't be what it seemed to be.

  They would grow tired of him. He would do one of the bad things he always did, and they would realize what a mistake they had made. They'd send him back to Grandpa, and he'd lose the wonderful room, the soft bed, the little sister, that kind woman. His father. His home. Those were things he couldn't count on. He'd found out long ago that it was worse than useless to want something; it was painful.

  The door opened, and Luke entered the room quietly. "Cal? What are you doing up?"

  Cal shrugged and jumped back into bed, afraid that Luke would be able to read his face and see the hope there.

  Luke sat down on the bed. He brushed an errant strand of hair back from Cal's forehead. "I never thought I'd find me a half-grown son." He paused. "I meant what I said down there. There's no way I'll let George Jackson take you back."

  Cal wanted to throw himself against Luke's hard body, to find safety in his strength. But he was sure Luke would recoil from him. Besides, it would reveal to Luke how weak he was, how scared. Cal was determined that no one should ever find that out.

  "I know it must seem awfully strange to you right now," Luke went on. "But you'll get used to it. You'll come to like it here. You'll see." He paused. He didn't know what to say to reach this boy, yet he found himself wanting to find the key to unlock him. But that wouldn't happen tonight, he reminded himself. There were years of pain to be gotten through before he reached Cal inside.

  "Good night, son." He leaned down, like Sarah, and brushed his lips against Cal's forehead. He rose and walked out of the room.