Turner's Rainbow 2 - The Rainbow Promise

by Lisa Gregory

  He stared. "All of them?"

  "Yes. You need several new everyday shirts and a couple for Sunday, as well as a suit for church. In a minute we'll go over there"—she pointed to a different part of the store—"and buy you some denim overalls, shoes, and the other things you need."

  Cal glanced away. He didn't know what to say or do. Sarah was always making him feel that way. He wanted the clothes, wanted them so much it made him a little sick inside. It wasn't just the clothes; it was her giving them to him. It was the idea of her liking him enough to do it. He didn't want to want that. It made him feel too desperate, too scared. She would find out about him; she'd realize how awful he was. Then Sarah would regret the things she had done for him; she would take them away. She'd take away her smile and the sweet feel of her hand on his shoulder and the touch of her lips against his forehead each night when she tucked him in. Ma had done that from time to time, sweeping into his life with smiles and hugs and kisses, then sweeping out again, leaving him to wonder what he'd said or done that had made her leave. It was better, easier, not to want Sarah's love.

  Sarah didn't expect Cal to thank her for the new clothes. She would have been surprised if he had. She got the pieces of cloth she wanted, then took Cal to another section to purchase the rest of his necessities. When they had finally made all their purchases, Luke piled them in the back of the wagon, and they left the store. Luke didn't turn the wagon toward home, however. Instead they drove into another part of town that was all enormous houses. Some of the homes were plain brick or wood, but some had little towers and fancy carved wood trim. One even had a funny little square room jutting up from the center of the roof. Luke pulled the wagon into the driveway of one of the houses and stopped.

  It wasn't as big as some of the houses Cal had seen today, but it was larger than Luke's house, which until now Cal had thought the biggest place in the world. This house was painted a pale blue, with white shutters and white carved trim on the porch. The door was white, too, and high up on it was a big brass door knocker shaped like a lion's head. At the street side were two black wrought-iron horse-head hitching posts and in between them lay a long stone block for stepping down out of vehicles.

  "Aunt Zenny!" Emily told Cal gleefully and pointed toward the house. "Aunt Zenny's house."

  Cal followed the others up the long flagstone walk to the house. A black woman answered the door and let them in. Cal gazed around him. his eyes wide, as the woman led them through the entry hall and into a parlor. The rooms were large and high ceilinged. with fancy plaster moldings on the ceilings and dark wood paneling on the walls. The furniture was dark and massive, the seats covered in rich materials. Cal felt utterly out of place.

  A woman rushed into the parlor, her arms stretched out to Sarah.

  "Sarah! I'm so glad to see you. And Emily." She bent and gave Emily a big squeeze, lifting the child up into her arms. "How's my sweetheart? Do you have a kiss for your Aunt Jenny?"

  Emily gave Jenny a big smack on the cheek. Cal stared at her. She was beautiful. He had thought Sarah beautiful, but she was not as lovely as this woman. Jennifer was dressed in a pink cotton dress with thin, puffed sleeves, fancier than what Sarah wore around the house. Her hair was done up in an intricate style, and tiny jeweled ear bobs danced in her ears. Her hair was dark; her big, expressive eyes were green; and her skin was like white porcelain tinted pink at the cheeks. Her features were lovely, but there was an animation in her face that made her even more striking.

  Behind her came two girls and a chubby little boy, all laughing and crying greetings. The boy was a little older than Emily and wore a blue sailor suit with a wide piped collar, white stockings, and shiny black shoes. The girls were in white dresses sprigged with pink flowers, adorned with ruffles at the neck and sleeves and three around the hem of the skirt. Their skirts ended at their knees, and below them were pristine white stockings down to the high-topped, buttoned black shoes. Their hair was arranged in long, fat sausage curls and ornamented with large pink bows. The older girl, about seven, was pretty, but the younger one, like her mother, was beautiful. Her hair was coal black, and her eyes were a sparkling emerald green. She looked like a doll Cal had seen in the dry goods store. Or she looked like one of those princesses in the stories Sarah read to him and Emily at night. Cal knew, with a sick feeling, that she would not like him, that she would think him awful, crude, and poor. And he wanted her quite badly to like him.

  Jennifer set down Emily, who was immediately seized and hugged by her cousins. She looked at Cal. "Well, now, who are you? You aren't Vance."

  He shook his head.

  "This is Cal," Sarah put in, sliding her arm around Cal's shoulder. "Cal, this is my sister Jennifer. Why don't you call her Aunt Jenny like Emily does?"

  Cal saw the surprised look Jennifer shot at Sarah, but she said only, "Hello, Cal. I just fixed some lemonade and cookies out in the kitchen. Why don't you children have some and then run outside to play?"

  The children disappeared toward the kitchen, Cal following behind the others reluctantly, while the adults sat down in the parlor to talk. Sarah could see that Jennifer was bursting with curiosity about Cal, but she didn't say anything until Luke left the room a few minutes later. Jennifer was immediately all questions, and Sarah told her Cal's story. As kindhearted as Sarah, Jennifer was full of sympathy for the boy. Sarah didn't tell her the problems she had had with him. She didn't want to give her a bad opinion of Cal. Besides, Jennifer would be the last person to have useful advice about a poorly disciplined child. Her own three were sweet-mannered children whom Sarah had rarely seen even mess up their clothes.

  Luke returned to the room, and their talk turned to the Fourth of July dance, coming up in two weeks. It was the biggest social event of the year in Willow Springs. There would be speeches and a parade in the afternoon, followed by a picnic supper and dancing in the park. As usual, the Turners would share one of the long tables with Jennifer and her family. Sarah and Jennifer discussed what foods and supplies each of them would bring, then went on to the more interesting topics of the clothes they would wear and who would be there and with whom.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a long, loud wail and the clatter of footsteps down the hall. Little Jonathon burst into the room. His face and silky dark hair were splattered with mud, and his suit was stiff with it. He was crying loudly, his tears cutting rivulets through the mud on his face.

  "Jonathon! What happened!" Jennifer went down on her knees beside her son and took him in her arms, mud and all. He continued to weep, unable to get out any words.

  Sarah felt Luke stiffen beside her, and she glanced at him. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, and she knew that he was thinking that whatever had happened was Cal's fault. Sarah hoped not. Cal kept pushing Luke, until Sarah was afraid that finally Luke's temper would snap.

  Before Jennifer could get Jonathon calmed down enough to answer her, there were shrieks outside, followed by a slamming back door, and the girls ran in. Melissa, the younger one, was crying, too.

  "He put a worm down her back!" Penny announced in a voice high with outrage. "That boy! Cal! He pushed Jonny down in the mud, then he put a worm down Missy's dress, and I had the most trouble getting it out, 'cause she kept on hopping around and—"

  "Damn." Luke stalked out to the backyard. That boy seemed determined to get into trouble. Not a day went by that Cal didn't test Luke's temper. More than once this past week he had been tempted to mm Cal over his knee and paddle him, but he had restrained himself, remembering the treatment Cal had received at the hands of his grandfather. But each time it got harder to hold back.

  He stepped out onto the back steps, letting the screen door bang shut behind him. Cal stood by himself in the middle of the yard, arms crossed over his chest, chin thrust out, waiting for Luke. The defiant stance irritated Luke. He could remember standing that way himself, and now he wondered why somebody hadn't taken him down more often than they had. It was a look guaranteed to
raise one's hackles. But Cal was a pathetic figure, too, alone in the big yard, awaiting his doom and trying to look as if he weren't scared. Pity twisted through Luke, enabling him to remain calm.

  "What did you do that for?"

  Cal shrugged without answering.

  "It doesn't seem very smart, does it? Antagonizing people you're going to have to be around the rest of your life? Making enemies of them instead of friends?"

  "I don't need friends," Cal returned scornfully. " 'Specially not sissies like them. Jon's a crybaby, and so's the girl."

  "He's only three. He and his sisters didn't grow up tough. There's nothing wonderful about having to. You had no reason to hurt or scare those children."

  "Reckon I'm just mean, like my pa."

  "I was. That's nothing to be proud of, either. Look, those children belong to Sarah's sister, and Sarah's real fond of both them and her sister. It'd break her heart not to visit her sister because you can't control your actions. I'm not going to let that happen. Now, I want you to go inside and apologize to the kids and to Jennifer. Then we're leaving."

  "I won't."

  "What?" Luke's voice was rigidly controlled, the anger seething beneath it.

  "I won't say I'm sorry."

  "When you do things like you just did, you have to. Remember that the next time you want to push somebody into the mud. Look at me."

  Cal tilted his face up and met Luke's eyes. Sometimes they were warm, but right now they were as cold as the sky on a clear winter day. Cal swallowed and looked away; he couldn't hold his gaze. "All right."

  They went inside, and Cal made his apologies with ill grace, mumbling the words and looking steadfastly at the floor. Jennifer accepted his apology smoothly and whisked Jon upstairs to change. Luke and Sarah left the house, Cal trailing along behind them. Emily walked beside Cal, but this time she didn't slip her hand into his. Cal felt the loss keenly. He looked down at her. Her face was troubled, and it made his insides twist. He was awful and wrong, and he hated everyone for it.

  "I think we should go home," Luke said.

  Sarah touched his arm. "Oh, no, we have to see Julia. You know how much she would want to see Cal."

  Luke set his jaw. Maybe Cal would act better at Julia's. No doubt the boy had been intimidated by Jennifer's grand house and beautiful children. At Julia's little place, in Julia's easy, down-to-earth presence, he might do better. "All right. We'll try it."

  They drove to Julia's. She came out onto the front porch, smiling, when they pulled up in front. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Cal, and she turned to Luke.

  "Is this—"

  Luke nodded. "Yeah. This is my son, Cal."

  A smile spread across her face, and she went to Cal and squatted down in front of him. "Hello, Cal, I'm your Aunt Julia, your father's sister." She put her arms around him and hugged him, despite the fact that Cal remained stiff and unyielding in her arms. She kissed him on the cheek, then stood up, blinking back tears. He was so much like Luke that it hurt. "Let's go inside. I know your cousins will love to meet you. You look about my boy Vance's age."

  Julia took Cal's hand too tightly for him to pull away and led him into the house. There she introduced him to a boy and a girl. Cal decided he didn't like them any better than the other ones, but when Vance asked if he wanted to see his fort out in back, Cal went along.

  After the children left, Julia turned to her brother. "Luke, where did he come from? Who is he? You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw him, he looks so much like you did."

  "He's Tessa Jackson's boy."

  "Tessa!" Her eyes widened. "Oh, my goodness."

  "She came to the house a couple of weeks ago and told me about him. He's been living with her father."

  "That awful man? Poor child!"

  "Yeah. So I brought him home."

  Julia glanced at Sarah. She couldn't help but be happy that Luke had a son, particularly one who looked so much like him, but she wondered how Sarah felt about it. It wouldn't be unlikely for a wife to resent taking in her husband's illegitimate offspring, particularly when the mother was Tessa Jackson.

  "I hope you'll all be happy." Julia paused, not knowing what to say. She glanced around. "Well. This must be the first time you've visited my new home since I got squared away. What do you think of it?"

  "It's lovely," Sarah answered promptly. "It's a darling house, and you've made it look so homey."

  Julia smiled. "Thank you."

  "Give us the grand tour," Luke prompted.

  "All right. If you really want it."

  "Of course we do."

  Julia showed them around, pleased that they liked her home. She loved the little house and kept it neat as a pin. She was always doing something for it—braiding a rag rug for the hallway or crocheting antimacassars for the parlor chairs or digging a little flower garden out front. She had never had such a lovely home before, nor one that was all hers, and she was determined that it be perfect.

  They sat down in the parlor and chatted. They talked about Cal, and Julia told Luke and Sarah about her work, carefully expurgating any mention of what had happened between her and James the day before. Sarah asked Julia if she had decided what dress she would wear to the Fourth of July picnic and dance, and Julia shook her head.

  "I don't think I'll go."

  "What? Why not? You have to come." Sarah looked shocked.

  Julia smiled. "Do I?"

  "Certainly. Doesn't she, Luke?"

  He nodded. "Yes, come, Julia. We'll stop by and pick you and the children up. They'll have a grand time."

  "But I don't know anyone, and I—"

  "Nonsense," Sarah declared. "You know us. And you know my sister Jennifer; we'll eat with them. The food will be delicious; Jen's a much better cook than I am."

  Luke chuckled. "You're fishing for compliments."

  "It's the truth."

  He snorted. "Her apricot tarts don't compare."

  Sarah gave a slightly smug smile that made Luke want to lean over and kiss her hard. "Well, I will admit that my apricot tarts are better." She turned to Julia. "Say you'll come. Please. It won't be as much fun without you."

  Julia hesitated. It was hard for her to face the people in town, and the idea of seeing so many of them at once terrified her. She was certain they would whisper about her and point her out as that slutty Turner girl who had had to get married. James would probably be there. He might even be squiring some girl to it. He would dance with women, certainly, and Julia didn't want to have to watch that.

  She glanced al Luke. He understood how she hated to be in public.

  "We'll be there with you," he reminded Julia softly.

  "Well, I—yes, I guess so."

  "That's wonderful! It'll be so much fun." Sarah's eyes sparkled with anticipation. It was the first time in a long time that he had seen that, Luke thought, and he wished he could keep the light in her eyes.

  "Mama! Mama!" Bonnie tumbled into the room, her pigtails flying. "Come quick. Vance is fightin'."

  Luke was the first one out of the room, with Julia and Sarah on his heels. He raced down the hall and out the back door. The two boys were rolling in the dirt down by the oak tree. Luke took the steps in two bounds, ran across the lawn, and, planting a hand in the shirt collar of each boy, he yanked them to their feet.

  "What in the hell do you think you're doing!"

  Their arms and legs stopped flailing. Vance looked ashamed and turned his head away. His mouth was bloody, and his eye was already purpling. Cal stared mulishly at Luke.

  "Damn it, this is the last straw!" Luke surged with fury. He let go of Vance, and the boy backed away uncertainly. Luke grabbed Cal by both shoulders and faced him.

  Julia took her son by the arm. "Just what do you think you were up to, young man?" she asked crisply. Vance couldn't meet her eyes. "Come along and get washed up."

  Julia looked at Sarah. Sarah hesitated, making a vague gesture toward Luke and his son. "You go on. I better stay out her
e."

  "There's nothing you can do. They have to work it out by themselves."

  Sarah cast another look toward the man and boy, so alike, so hard, and sighed. "All right."

  They went back inside, leaving Luke and Cal in the yard by themselves. Julia sent her son upstairs to clean up, and the two women stayed by the back door, looking out.

  "You've done it once too many times," Luke told Cal fiercely, punctuating his word with quick shakes of the boy's shoulders. "What did you think I would do? Keep on taking it and taking it and never bring you up short? What in the hell is the matter with you? Sarah and I have given you the best home we know how, but all you can do is sass and back talk and get into trouble. And now this. You terrorize every child in our family!"

  Cal set his jaw, trying to wipe out all traces of fear from his eyes. "You want me to cut the switch now?"

  "What?"

  "I said, you want me to cut down the switch? Grandpa always made me cut down the switch 'fore he strapped me with it."

  Luke went still. He stared at the boy for a long moment. "You're trying to make me whip you like your grandpa did, aren't you? That's why you've been doing all these things— to make me break down and beat you."

  Cal's mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

  Luke sighed. The rage drained out of him. He went down on one knee in front of Cal, his hands still on the boy's shoulders. "I don't know why you want that. I don't know what you're trying to prove. But I can promise you, I'm not going to whip you. Do you understand? You can do what you want, but that won't happen."

  Luke let go of Cal, and his hands went to the front of his own shirt. He unbuttoned it and pulled it down off his shoulders, exposing his tanned back. He turned his back to Cal. Cal stared. Luke's hard, muscled flesh was browned by the sun, but thin white scars slashed the darker skin.

  "See those?" Luke asked quietly, the tinges of an ancient pain in his voice. "I've got the same scars you have, only a few more, 'cause I had to live with my daddy longer than you've lived with your grandpa. I got them the same way you did." He turned back to face Cal, shrugging his shirt back on. "That's why you don't have to be scared of me whipping you. I won't. Ever. So you don't have to try to make me do it."