Under the Summer Sky

by Lori Copeland

  Benjamin scratched his bearded face. “You want me to go with you to see Pauline?” His bushy brows drew into a tight knot. “I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t want to make her heart give out. It’s been a mighty long spell since we’ve laid eyes on each other.”

  Trinity doubted either one would recognize the other, but if anyone could prompt her aunt’s memory it would be him. “Seeing her is the reason you followed me all the way here, isn’t it? Why have doubts now?”

  “Yes, ma’am—that’s purely the reason, but I sorta thought I’d take my own time showin’ my face. She probably ain’t gonna be too happy to see me. Kind of like your worst nightmare come a-knockin’ on your back door.”

  “You never know. The years have a way of changing folks and softening hearts, but since you’ve come all this way you can’t not see her.”

  “Well, I reckon I can do what I want, but”—his gaze shifted to the road—“maybe I’ll just go on back to Piedmont. Ain’t no harm done. She’ll never know I’ve been here.”

  “No.” Trinity snagged his arm and gently urged him ahead of her. “You must help me, Benjamin. She might respond to you.” Goodness knew Pauline didn’t recognize a great-grandniece she’d only seen as a baby.

  “I cain’t leave my camp and my jenny!”

  “Your personal belongings won’t be noticed, and we’ll only be gone a short while.” No one but a desperate soul would tramp through the heavy thicket and poison ivy to get to him.

  “I don’t like this, missy. Not one bit.”

  “Nor do I, Benjamin, but I don’t have a choice.” Without that deed and the money it would mean, she’d have no alternative but to stay put here in Dwadlo.

  And there was no way she was that desperate.

  Pauline was entertaining herself in the small yard, catching fireflies. Her stained pink housecoat looked out of place in the setting, but Mae said the gift had come from Tom and the old woman rarely gave it over for the wash. Her ruddy face was wrinkled like an old apple, but her eyes shown with childlike delight as she clutched a fruit jar to her chest. She stood perfectly still and let the insects fly to her, and then, once they were close, she snaked out a hand, captured them, and stored them in the jar. Trinity motioned for Benjamin to stay back. Best that she clear the way before she sprung the old fellow on her.

  Pauline focused on her prey, hand poised in midair.

  “Pauline?”

  “What?”

  “Remember me? Trinity? I visited you earlier.”

  “Yeh, yeh.” Her hand snatched a bug. “You don’t give up, do you, young’un?”

  If Trinity were thin-skinned she’d be strongly inclined to take issue with her aunt’s exasperated tone, but she wasn’t—and locating the deed was far more important than her etiquette.

  Pauline seized a bug.

  “I’ve brought someone to see you.”

  “Don’t want to see anyone. I’m bug-catchin’ and after that I’m goin’ to bed.”

  “I think you’ll want to see this particular person.” She motioned for Benjamin to come closer. He took a hesitant step forward, twisting his battered hat in his hands. Trinity frowned. She should have taken more time to spruce him up a bit. His dirty shirt, strong odor, and unkempt beard would hardly endear him to Pauline. But the way his eyes softened as he focused on the woman catching fireflies in the gathering dusk was that of a young man smitten with his first love. Moisture gathered in his eyes as he stepped closer.

  “Miss Pauline?”

  She stopped mid-snatch. A twinkling light fluttered by, ignored. Trinity stood still as a winter’s night. “Pauline?” she said softly. “Look who I brought.”

  She sensed the hesitancy—the woman’s almost visible uncertainty, as though she questioned her hearing.

  “Aren’t you going to look at me?” Benjamin’s voice filled the silence.

  “Don’t need to.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Benjamin Henry Cooper, I told you to stay away. Why have you come?”

  “Can’t stay away. I told you I loved you years ago, and nothin’s changed.”

  She turned, her eyes squinting to adjust to the fading light. In the softest tone Trinity had ever heard her use, she said, “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Like what?” His dull gaze ran her length, love lighting his features. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “You always were a smooth talker.”

  “Never smooth enough to convince you that we were born to be together.”

  Pauline turned her eyes to Trinity. “See what I have to put up with? The man won’t leave me alone.”

  “I would take that as a compliment, Aunt Pauline.” If a man—any man—looked at her the way Benjamin drank in the sight of Pauline, she would feel blessed indeed.

  Pauline snatched a firefly out of the air.

  Time was brief. Her aunt’s lucidity would fade quickly. Trinity edged closer. “We’ve come to ask you about the deed to Wilson’s Falls.”

  “What about it?”

  Trinity glanced at Benjamin, encouraged. “Do you know where it is?”

  “Of course I know.”

  “You do!”

  Pauline snared another one. “I said I did.”

  “Where do you keep it?”

  She held up the jar, her gaze focused on the twinkling lights captive there. “It’s a secret.”

  “I know what I’m asking is delicate, but I’m here to help with your personal business. You’ll have to cooperate…”

  “Don’t need any help.”

  “Yes, you do.” Benjamin reached to help her tighten the lid of the jar. “We’re not young’uns anymore, Pauline. Our memories aren’t so good as they used to be. Tell your niece where you keep your papers, and she can sort things out.”

  “Why should I tell anyone my personal business? That’s what personal means. That you don’t tell anyone.”

  He took the jar from her. “The day’s coming—and it’s right around the corner—when you’re not going to be able to handle your business anymore. Now this little gal is trustworthy, and you can tell her anything she needs to know. I’ll personally testify to her integrity.”

  Benjamin spoke with dignity. His English was perfectly proper.

  “There you go, using all those fancy words.” Pauline met his gaze. “You still doctorin’?”

  “Naw, gave that up years ago. Tried to take a bullet outta a man’s stomach and couldn’t see. My eyesight wasn’t good enough. I walked away and never practiced again. I jest got old. We all do.”

  “Not me. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

  His smile broadened. “I can see that. Now tell your niece where you keep the deed.”

  “In a lockbox.”

  Trinity’s jaw dropped. The old-timer was a doctor? Pauline remembered where she’d stored the deed? Would wonders never cease? Thank You, God!

  And it seemed to Trinity that she heard a voice in her head that replied, You see? My ways are not your ways.

  Benjamin was nodding. “In a lockbox where?”

  “In Piedmont. Priss and I put it there a long time ago so we wouldn’t lose it.”

  Trinity edged closer. “Piedmont!” For goodness’ sake! She’d just come from there. What sort of crazy circus was this?

  Nodding, Benjamin turned to Trinity. “Looks like you got your answer.”

  “You’ve been an immense help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  A blush spread up the old-timer’s neck, and he extended his arm. “Miss Pauline, would you sit on the porch with me for a spell?”

  “I can’t. It’s my bedtime.”

  Benjamin winked at Trinity. “I think I can get permission to delay your routine for this one fine evening.”

  “Don’t know as I can stay awake.” Pauline looked up at the slit of a moon, and then took his arm. “But I’ll give it a try. Bring my bugs. I poked holes in the lid so’s they can breathe.”

  “Doesn’t
matter how long you can stay awake. If you’ll just sit with me that will be enough.”

  Pauline sighed. “You always could charm the birds right outta their trees.”

  Trinity watched the old folks slowly making their way around Tom and Mae’s front yard, arm in arm, each leaning on the other. Deep inside, a romantic sigh surfaced. It seemed that love could be grand no matter one’s age, though she’d hate to think she’d have to wait for her nineties to discover her soul mate. A face popped into her mind—Jones, looking down at her from under his hat—but she shook the mental image aside. She couldn’t be thinking about Jones in a starry-eyed way—that was insane. He had big plans to court the woman in Chicago. Envy swelled through her. A man like him would have a woman waiting in every town, eager to provide for his comforts.

  Jones was certainly not her focus. Her life was back in Sioux Falls with a man she had yet to meet. She had to concentrate on selling Pauline’s land, though even her most merciless inner critic had to admit that Jones did have the most captivating, heart-shattering grin.

  He’d have no trouble snaring a wife. None in the least.

  Thirteen

  Sunlight streaked the rosy dawn as Jones walked into the livery. Fisk was there already, his grin as wide as Texas this morning. The usual white cloth that cushioned his bad tooth was gone. “You look a mite happier,” said Jones as he reached for his saddle on the stanchion.

  “Feel like a new man!” The blacksmith motioned to the coffee. “Want a cup of java?”

  “Already had more than my share.” He hefted the saddle onto Sue’s back and reached beneath for the wide belly strap.

  “Shore hate to see you go,” Fisk said. “Been a lot of comin’s and goin’s around here the past few months. I’m ’bout ready for things to settle down a mite.”

  “You ever think about getting married?”

  The blacksmith shook his head. “Been married once, don’t plan to do it again.”

  “You and the wife didn’t get along?”

  “Oh, I loved the missus. Loved her more than life itself, but she took sick and it’s weren’t long afore the good Lord took her home.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Hardest thing I ever faced, losin’ her. Won’t nobody ever replace my little Petunia.”

  A shadow appeared in the doorway and Jones looked up to see Trinity, breathless and holding a small sack. “Oh, thank heaven,” she said. “I overslept and thought I might have missed you.”

  He lifted his brow. “Miss me?”

  “I thought you’d leave before I could catch you. Pauline knows where the deed is.”

  A snort escaped Fisk. “She don’t know her right foot from her left most days. How’s she supposed to remember where she keeps a deed?”

  “She says it’s in a lockbox in Piedmont.”

  Jones shook his head skeptically. “Can you trust her memory? She doesn’t appear to be…in control of her faculties.”

  “That’s a nice way of saying she’s nuts, and she is, but I think the information’s correct. I took Benjamin to see her last night and he made all the difference. She remembered him and she remembered the deed.”

  Jones slipped the bit into Sue’s mouth. “Then I suppose you’ll be taking the train back to Piedmont?”

  “That’s what I wanted to speak to you about.” She eased into the livery, her eyes searching the stalls. “You’re riding in that direction, aren’t you?”

  “Could be. Why?”

  “The train isn’t due here until Sunday. I can’t wait that long.” She glanced at Fisk. “Can I rent a horse?”

  “Yeah, I got a couple of small mares. I won’t rent you one, but I’ll sure enough loan you one.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed him a grin before addressing Jones. “You don’t mind if I keep you company?”

  “Let’s say I don’t. How do you plan to get back?”

  “If the deed’s there, we’ll make the transaction and be done with our business. Fisk? You’re not overly attached to the mare you’re loaning me?”

  “No, ma’am. Some feller came through a while back and wanted me to reshoe the animal. He never came back for her. I’m out the price of shoes and feed.”

  “Good. Once I get the money from the land I’ll sell the horse, wire you the money, wire Pauline her money, and take the train to Sioux Falls.”

  Jones wasn’t sold on the plan. She’d slow him down. “Piedmont is a good two-day ride.”

  “That will still put me there sooner than if I wait and take the Sunday train,” she said, turning needy eyes on him. “We have a deal?”

  “I wasn’t aware I was given a choice. Aren’t you concerned for your reputation? A single man and a pretty woman traveling alone together?”

  She shook her head. “Not in the least.”

  Fisk laughed. “Don’t say much for yer appeal, does it, Jones?”

  Smiling, Jones swung himself into the saddle. “Mine or hers?” He focused on Trinity. “You can ride along. I intend to get a good look at Wilson’s Falls before I hand you a wad of money. How soon can you be ready to ride out, Miss Franklin?”

  She lifted the sack. “I’m packed and eager to go.”

  Jones studied the girl. Now he had her on his back for another couple of days. “What are you planning on eating during the trip?”

  “Mae and Jeremy are packing my supplies as we speak.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “Since I’ll be paying for your services, I can assume that you will see me safely to Piedmont.”

  He lifted a dark brow. “Now I’m a hired escort?”

  Her chin raised a notch. “I thought it was a natural assumption. Of course, I won’t be able to pay until you give me the money for the land.”

  Fisk chuckled and Jones groaned inwardly. Having her along for the ride wasn’t all that unpleasant a thought, but Jones resented the way she took his services for granted. He was not a paid man, not in any woman’s eyes. And babysitting her would slow him down when he was overdue as it was.

  “Well?” She faced him, waiting.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “If you’re worried about propriety, I’ll ask Benjamin to ride along, or Lil…”

  “Not Lil. And certainly not the old-timer.” A two-day ride would take six if Benjamin was along.

  “Well, then?”

  He adjusted the brim of his hat. “I’ll ride slowly. You get your grub and catch up.”

  “Deal.” She turned and half ran, half skipped to the store.

  Jones met Fisk’s dancing eyes. “Don’t say a word.”

  He saddled up and rode out, hearing that wicked chuckle behind him. Jones could tell what Fisk was thinking—that he was going to fall for Trinity.

  That would not happen. Paid man—hogwash! She’d regret the day she hired him.

  Fourteen

  You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

  The monotonous trail stretched ahead, hour after hour. Trinity hadn’t spoken a word since leaving Dwadlo. She didn’t appear to be the chatty sort, endlessly going on about insignificant matters. He wasn’t accustomed to riding with women, but she focused on the trail and he had to admit they were making good time. At this rate they’d be in Piedmont by early tomorrow afternoon, weather cooperating. It had been hot and dry, but the dark bank of clouds building in the north promised rain.

  The animals smelled water. Jones gave Sue her head and she galloped toward the river.

  Trinity reined up short fifty yards from the placid stream. He turned in his saddle, recalling her abnormal fear of water. “Want me to take you across?”

  It didn’t take much to see that she was scared. “Throw me your reins and I’ll lead you safely across.”

  She flushed. “I can make it!”

  Shrugging, he kneed Sue and walked her into the water. Rain had been scarce and the river was low—not more than waist-deep in the middle. He kept an eye on Trinity as her m
are approached the water. Reining in, she seemed to be gathering her courage before she gently nudged the horse forward. Something in that little gal’s life had spooked her around water.

  A crack of thunder split the air. Sue jolted beneath him, and Jones turned in the saddle to watch Trinity struggle to restrain her animal.

  Lightning streaked across the sky and another clap of thunder came—louder this time. Both horses started. Jones turned and took the mare’s reins from Trinity. “Hold on! We’ll be out of this in just a minute.”

  Her knuckles turned white but she gripped the saddle horn and held tight. The first drops of rain pelted the riders as they rode clear of the river.

  Jones tossed the reins back to her as they clambered onto the far bank. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  Offering a hint of a smile, she nodded. “Not bad at all.”

  She was at least a discriminate deceiver.

  The shower turned out to be brief. The sky cleared and the sun popped out. At noon Jones pulled up under a spreading tree and dismounted. A fresh spring gurgled in the distance. “Thought we’d eat dinner and rest the horses a spell.”

  Trinity obediently climbed down and went to the creek to wash her hands. Jones joined her to clean up, studying her out of the corner of his eye. They’d ridden half a day and she hadn’t said a word but the few she’d offered while crossing the river. She hadn’t seemed lost for words before.

  “What makes you tick, Miss Franklin?”

  She looked up, curiosity shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He pulled a piece of soap from his pocket and lathered up. “Well, what’s up with you and water, for example?”

  “I can’t…”

  “Other than you can’t swim and you don’t like tight places,” he put in. “Seems like you’d learn—there’s a lot of water and root cellars around.”