The Convent Rose (The Roses)

by Lynn Shurr

“Yeah,” Rich sneered. “I know all about Bodey Landrum, Betsy Barnum’s bastard kid. Big Ben, when he’d had a few, told me even Bets didn’t know who the boy’s daddy was. This cowboy went out to the barn on his eighteenth birthday to screw some slut from the Academy—like father, like son—and that girl just like his mama. He thought he was hot shit back then, swimming in Barnum’s money and never having to lift a finger unless he wanted to fuck a schoolgirl. How’d you ever get mixed up with him?”

  Just like that, the years rolled back and Bodey was nothing more than Big Ben’s charity case stepson. More years slipped away, and his mama worked at the diner, packing his school lunches from restaurant leftovers so her son wouldn’t be teased about getting free food from the government.

  The pain came on so swiftly, wiping out all of his adult accomplishments that Bodey threw his hat down and shot out his fist. Eve got in the way. He couldn’t pull his punch fast enough to avoid striking the bare, white flesh of her upper arm. She’d have a bruise. He knew it, regretted his action immediately.

  “For God’s sake, Bodey, we’re in a church, and this is my father.”

  “And God knows he’s a fraud, and I’m the real deal. Yeah, well, I’m leavin’ now. When you figure out if you’re moving to the islands with this sad sack of cow crap, you let me know.” Bodey stalked out and tried to slam the chapel doors, but instead, they shut silently behind him on well-oiled hinges.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bodey felt the same urgency he’d had when Hardy Courville and Evan Adams were competing with him for Eve’s attention. Only this time her father presented much tougher competition, a man who called her “Princess” and had a childhood of happy memories to draw upon, getting in his way. When the call came Monday morning that the ring he’d ordered was ready, he drove immediately to Lafayette to collect it from Jason Roth, an Art Guild member who designed his own jewelry. So pleased with the work, he topped Roth’s fee by twenty percent.

  Inside the jeweler’s velvet box glowed an amethyst stone the size of his thumb tip and of a ripe and delicious deep purple hue. Two platinum clusters of molded wisteria blooms held the jewel in place. Engraved tendrils and sprays of ragged leaves decorated the band. Eve’s hands were long-fingered, large, and capable. She could show off a designer piece like this with no trouble at all the designer assured him.

  This was the kind of ring Eve would want, not some ten-carat extravaganza from a fancy retail shop. Rusty, wise in the ways of women, had once told Bodey that special women deserved and desired unique objects meant only for them. Noreen wore an engagement ring of gold and rubies, a family heirloom, out of style, but totally in keeping with that woman’s strange belief she and Rusty were soul mates and the reincarnated spirits of past lovers. If he’d had the time to show Russ the wisteria ring, Bodey knew his best friend would say Bodey Landrum had finally gotten things right. Glad he hadn’t gone with a diamond and a rose design since that compliment seemed to annoy and distress Eve, Bodey shut the box with a satisfying snap and dropped it in his jacket pocket.

  He wanted to get this proposal just right, too. He’d go to Mama Tyne and get a special picnic lunch. They’d ride to the wisteria grove. The glade would be shady and pleasant this time of year. After they had eaten and made love, he’d propose again, the right way, down on his bum knee if necessary. She wouldn’t bolt this time. He knew it would work—if her newly returned father hadn’t poisoned her against him.

  First things, first. He drove over to Eve’s house to set the date into motion. Her school classes were over for the summer, her students gone home. She hadn’t called to nag him into going to church on Sunday, too wrapped up in Daddy, no doubt. Eve might be teaching her old lady artists today, but it would only take a minute to set up the date for lunch, and he knew she wasn’t working tonight. If she said yes, why hell, she could even have her father walk her down the aisle despite Bodey’s dislike of the old man. He could swallow it for one day so long as Eve didn’t run off to the islands with that pitiful excuse for a parent. When they had children, he’d be there every single day for their kids no matter what happened along the way.

  When he got to the studio, Eve didn’t have a class in session. Bodey moved to her sleeping quarters and remembered to knock. Every detail seemed crucial to him now. All things must be perfect this time. Rich Kuhl, alias Dickie Burns, answered the door. Behind the man, Bodey could see the old sofa made up as a bed with quilts and a pillow in an embroidered case. The narrow hall was blocked with open suitcases. One of them held women’s clothes. A portable easel and paint box sat beside it.

  “Eve around? We have some business to discuss.” He was determined to keep this unfortunate meeting low key and neutral for his lover’s sake.

  “My daughter went to drop off her keys at Noreen’s house. She’s been on the phone all morning telling her students she’ll be leaving for an extended vacation. We fly out this afternoon. I can’t spend any more time here than necessary,” Rich answered Bodey with an oleaginous smile so slick the cowboy wanted to wipe it off his face with a napkin.

  “Well, she didn’t call me, and I’m one of her students. I need to see her before she makes any rash decisions.”

  “There’s nothing rash about going to live with her long lost father. As I said, I have a palace in the islands compared to this place, and servants to wait on her. My clients are Texans so rich they make your fortune look like tip money. Why I have Arab sheiks and European royalty using my boats. You think a beautiful, talented woman like my Eve won’t draw them to her like chum attracts sharks? She can do better than you, cowboy, and I’ll see she does.”

  “Yeah, chum and sharks, that sounds about right. You ever think Eve might be happier right here in Rainbow with a plain, honest man like me? I love your daughter, and I want to marry her. I’d like to have your blessing.” Bodey took the ring box from his pocket and showed Dickie Burns the contents.

  “That’s the best you can do? A semi-precious stone in a silver band. I thought you made some bucks getting stomped on by cows at the rodeo. Easy come, easy go, I guess. It’s a good thing Big Ben left you a place to live. No, my princess can do much better, and I’ve told her so. She needs to give me a chance to make it all up to her.”

  Determined not to let the man rile him, Bodey put the ring back in his pocket. “The band is platinum, custom made in a pattern that has meaning to us. It’s special, like her. Like I said, I need to speak directly to Eve. I’ll wait out here.”

  Bodey took a seat at the small table where he once shared a crowded meal with Evan Adams. He sprawled out his legs and settled in to wait while Rich retreated into the house like a scorpion into its hole. He didn’t wait long. Eve drove up fifteen minutes later.

  She smiled when she saw Bodey waiting. Taking a seat next to him, she said, “I went by your house, my last stop.”

  “Why the last stop?”

  “Because you are the hardest one to tell. I’m going to spend some time with my father in the islands. He wants to make things right with me. I owe it to him to let him try.”

  “The way I see it, you don’t owe that liar nothing. I could make things right, pay off those bills of yours, and you wouldn’t have to leave Rainbow. Be my wife, Eve. Stay with me.” The words blundered out again, simple and unadorned, not anything like he’d planned.

  Eve turned half away from him. He saw the bruise he’d given her on her bare upper arm and leaned over to kiss it. She shivered.

  “I’m so sorry about that. I’d never hurt you, darlin’. You only got in the way.”

  “Between you and my father. It could happen again. Look what you did to Evan at the opening. You are far too quick with your fists.”

  “Sometimes a man must fight for what he wants, but I’d never hit a woman or a child intentionally. I swear.” He crossed himself awkwardly hoping that might add weight to his words with Eve.

  “Okay, I believe you, but it doesn’t matter. Bodey, I’ve never traveled or seen much of life, an
d I’m past thirty. As for men, you and Evan were the only ones. I think my father is right to suggest I give him some time before I make any final decisions about my life.”

  Bodey felt anger rise up and take over his usually amiable disposition. Okay, his words hadn’t been eloquent, but they were sincere. She should have understood all she meant to him. Hell, Eve was the only woman he’d ever asked to be his bride. More words, unplanned and hurtful, spewed out.

  “So, I’m not a pure enough stud to sire your dozen children. Is that it? I’m a low life bastard, not some A-rab sheik or snotty royal. I’m not good enough for Miss Fancy Pants!”

  “Bodey Landrum, I cannot believe you called me that! I thought you knew me better by now. Dozen children, sheiks—are you crazy?”

  “I might have landed on my head a few times, but I know you wanted Adams to do the job, and now your daddy wants you for chum!”

  “This totally irrational discussion is ended. If I want to go to visit my dad for a while, I will. Go back to the ranch, cowboy, and castrate some calves, or whatever it is you do when you aren’t trying to get into my—fancy pants.” Eve stood and stalked back to her house. Standing in her doorway and gloating, Dickie Burns, the triumphant Rich Kuhl, stood sneering at him.

  “There are some males I’d like to castrate right now, him, and maybe every slimy sheik and sneaky prince he shoves your way. You want a dozen kids. I can give you a dozen kids,” Bodey shouted after her.

  “You are incoherent. If you want twelve kids, find someone else. I’m taking a long away-from-you vacation. Live with it!” Eve moved her father aside and closed the door in Bodey’s face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bodey went to Mass the next Sunday, and although he mumbled a few prayers for Eve’s return, his motives weren’t purely religious. After the service, he attached himself to the Niles family, and by persistently following them all the way to their car, wrangled a Sunday dinner invitation.

  While Russ oversaw his kids’ change of clothes from Sunday best to summer shorts, Bodey loitered in the kitchen getting in Noreen’s way as she took a pork roast from the oven and began making the kind of creamed potatoes that came dry in a box. On the back of the range, a lump of frozen green beans gradually thawed in a pot of boiling water.

  Bodey leaned on the kitchen counter and watched Noreen whip the dry potato flakes with hot water, milk, and butter.

  “I guess no one makes them with real potatoes anymore,” he remarked.

  “Not if they have two small children and no household help. I make them special by adding a little sour cream. I used to put in chives, too, but the children won’t touch them if anything green shows up. Here, make yourself useful.”

  Noreen handed him a can of refrigerated biscuits. Bodey looked at the container as if she had given him a loaded gun. “For heaven’s sake, Bodey, just rap it against the counter and then spread the biscuits out on that cookie sheet. Put the tray in the oven. It’s already set.”

  “I don’t do much cookin’. Just have cereal or eggs in the morning, maybe a sandwich for lunch, take my evening meal out. Eve doesn’t cook much either. She eats most of her meals at the café or the school cafeteria.”

  He swung the can of biscuits harder than necessary against the counter’s edge. It popped open with a report like a Saturday-night special. As Bodey spread the biscuits, he asked casually, “You heard from Eve? I know you’re takin’ care of her house.”

  “There’s a postcard from the Cayman Islands on the refrigerator. You didn’t get one?” Noreen poked the green beans with a fork to break them up.

  “Not yet. She’s only been gone a week. Mind if I read yours?”

  “Go ahead. While you’re over there, pour some milk for the kids. Use the plastic cups.”

  Bodey turned over the card showing a pristine, palm-studded beach and aqua water. He read the brief message while he poured the milk. “It’s beautiful here in the islands. I am painting like mad. Thanks for keeping my plants watered. I’ll bring you a nice souvenir. Eve.”

  “There’s no return address.” Bodey attached the postcard to the side of the refrigerator again with a magnet shaped like a rooster.

  “If you’re fishing for her location, she didn’t give one. I suspect her daddy doesn’t want to advertise his whereabouts. You, me, Russ, and the Sisters are the only ones who know this isn’t just a vacation.”

  With the smack of small sneakers on linoleum flooring, Noreen’s children barreled into the kitchen. Little Katie attached herself to her mother’s leg. Jesse stuck a finger into the potatoes and licked it off like frosting from a cake.

  “Jesse Ted Niles, go set the table the way I showed you. We need an extra place for Uncle Bodey,” his mother ordered. “Russ, either take Katie or carve the pork roast, your choice.”

  Russ picked a carving knife from the rack on the counter and slid the roast on to a wooden board. Bodey, trying to be a good guest, picked up Katie and tickled her tummy until she giggled.

  “Don’t do that, Bodey. We’re toilet-training, and you’ll make her wet her pants.”

  He stopped the tickling immediately. “So you have no clue where Eve is?”

  Noreen sighed. “Bodey, if she didn’t even send you a postcard, maybe Eve isn’t the right woman for you. The two of you certainly aren’t soul mates like Russ and I.”

  “Look, things were going real well between us until her daddy showed up, and how would I know if we were soul mates anyhow? I mean, you married into a family your kin have hated since before the War, and that makes you and Rusty soul mates?” Bodey contended stubbornly.

  Behind Noreen, Rusty shook his head and mouthed the words, “Don’t go there,” as he carved off slices of pork.

  “If Eve were your soul mate, you would have known the first time you ever spoke to her, and I understand that didn’t go so well when you trapped her on the bridle path.”

  Bodey glared at his friend who hung his head in mock shame for telling that story about his past.

  Noreen went on. “And I do not think if Eve were your soul mate, you would have been on top of Renee in the barn a few hours later. Russ and I just sat in that stall and talked, and we knew. Why, we may even be the reincarnation of the youngest Courville son and the eldest Niles daughter who couldn’t marry one hundred seventy-five years ago because, well, they might have been too closely related back then.”

  “I thought Catholics didn’t believe in reincarnation,” Bodey countered.

  “They don’t. I don’t. Well, Russ and I finding each other was a miracle that brought our two families together. How about that?” Carrying the bowl of potatoes and a bowl of green beans to the dining room table, Noreen moved past Bodey.

  “Whatever you say. I don’t see why Eve can’t be my miracle. She didn’t give you a phone number, did she? Her cell doesn’t seem to work outside the country. See, we had a little argument before she left, which might explain why I didn’t get a postcard, and I really need to talk to her.”

  “She said she’d call me if necessary. Give up, Bodey. You and Eve are not compatible, let alone soul mates. Take those biscuits out of the oven before they burn.”

  She snatched Katie from his arms and took her over to the highchair. Bodey looked down at a large, warm, wet spot on the sleeve of his pale blue dress shirt. Well, he’d rolled in worse stuff. He took the tray of biscuits from the oven, the odor of kiddie urine mingling with the homey smell of baked bread.

  “Ah, you might want to check Katie’s underwear. She’s not wearin’ a diaper, I take it.”

  “No, training pants. Children train better when they can feel the wet.”

  “That so. I thank you for the dinner invitation, but I think I need to go home and change my shirt. Y’all come over and swim this afternoon. It’s hotter than hell outside.”

  “Hell,” repeated Katie softly. Jesse covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “Hell,” his baby sister repeated at a higher volume, fully savoring the sound.
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  Bodey patted Katie’s soft red curls on his way out the door. “That about says it all, Little Bit.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bodey tried the Sisters the following Sunday. He approached them warily as if they could see all the stains on his soul in the bright, hot sun of the churchyard.

  “Sorry I didn’t take you to lunch last week. I had a dinner invitation from Rusty and his family.”

  “You aren’t obligated to feed us, young man,” Sr. Helen assured him.

  “With Eve gone, we were surprised—but happy—to see you at Mass,” Sr. Inez said.

  “So, you heard from Eve? It’s been two weeks.”

  “My, yes. Some lovely postcards. She says she’s painting every day and the islands are gorgeous.”

  “I guess I don’t rate a card. Maybe it’s payback for the time I went away for two weeks and didn’t call because I got so caught up in findin’ my daddy. She was the first I told when I returned from Dallas, the only one I wanted to share that with.”

  “Bodey, we raise young women of character and charity at the Academy—people like Amanda Courville who does so much for the community, and people like Eve who cared enough about Rainbow to help in its revitalization. Our girls are not petty,” Sr. Inez asserted.

  “Well, there is Renee Hayes,” Bodey reminded them as they walked, snail-paced, to his truck.

  “You can’t win ’em all.” Sr. Helen sighed.

  “Eve hasn’t called me or written or sent an e-mail. I mean, I have my own web site. I’m not that hard to get in touch with, am I?”

  “I suspect her father is discouraging contact. After all, if Eve marries a cowboy, she isn’t likely to stay with him.”

  “I’d like to turn that bastard in to the Feds and bring Eve home.”

  “She’d never forgive you, Bodey. Time and prayer takes care of all things.”

  Bodey handed their frail old bones into the cab and took the Sisters to Sunday dinner at the café where he noticed a bright postcard of tropical blooms from Eve stuck in the corner of the bar mirror. How much time? How much prayer? A man had only so much patience.