He jerked a thumb toward his truck with a horse trailer attached.
“Oh, you brought the horses. I’ll go find Uncle Howard.” I ran into the house, Chance on my heels.
Aunt Liza was in the kitchen preparing supper. “Did I hear your young men arriving?”
Heat rose to my cheeks. “Yes, Michael and Dan are outside. They have the horses, and they need Uncle Howard.”
“He’s gone to the store, and Zeke went with him. He’ll be back in a few minutes. Go ahead and show them the barn. Your uncle already has the stalls ready.”
I started back out and noticed Chance wagging his tail. “Aunt Liza? Dan brought Chance. I hope that was okay.”
“Sure, hon. We told him he could,” she said.
“Thank you.” But my happiness in seeing Chance had been marred. Chance nudged my hand, and I absentmindedly patted his head then retraced my steps outside.
Michael and Dan both had their hands thrust in their pockets and were not speaking. Neither one looked at me.
“Uncle Howard’s not here. The barn’s down the road a piece.”
Michael gave me a brief nod and walked to his truck.
I didn’t wait for an invitation but climbed in on the passenger’s side. I grabbed the door to close it, but Dan stopped me.
“I’ll just ride with y’all,” he said.
I looked nervously at Michael. He didn’t speak, just tightened his grip on the steering wheel. I slid toward him, and Dan climbed in.
Michael cranked the trunk, and I pointed out the ruts that snaked through the trees. “Just follow the road.”
He grunted. I was reminded of riding between Dan and Sylvia just the other day. But this was even worse.
Dan made small talk about folks back home. Neither Michael nor I spoke until the horses were being unloaded.
Dan led out a beautiful chestnut, and I caught my breath in surprise. “I thought you were bringing Blaze.”
He shook his head. “Sold him and bought these two.”
Michael held the halter of the other horse, an Appaloosa, white with gray spots. I frowned, puzzled. Why had Dan purchased two new horses? That didn’t make sense when he was in the army. Was it just an excuse to visit me? Was that why Michael was so angry? I had to let Michael know that none of this was my doing.
Chance had followed us and sniffed the horses. Neither took any notice of him, but I called him away in case one took a notion to kick.
I followed Michael and Dan into the dark barn. “If you don’t need my help. . .”
Dan shook his head. “Mike and I can handle it.”
“Well, I’ll just get back to the house and help Aunt Liza with supper. It’ll be ready soon.”
“Great!” Dan went into the stall to remove the chestnut’s halter.
Michael followed me out. “I can’t stay.”
“Michael! I thought you were going to spend the weekend.”
He shifted from one foot to another and stared over my shoulder, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry. Some things came up.”
“Please?”
He cast a glance at me. “Maybe just for supper, then I’ve got to get back.”
Was it because he was mad at me? Or, had Dan said something to anger him? Was he mad about the horses? Or, simply because I had thanked Dan for bringing Chance?
I didn’t know what else to say, and his face looked so thunderous I was afraid I would say the wrong thing. I simply nodded and left.
As I neared the house, the smells drifting from the kitchen made my mouth water. I arrived just as Uncle Howard and Zeke got back from the store. They headed out to the barn, Zeke eager to see the horses. I set the table as Aunt Liza finished up the last of the cooking. Her scent of vanilla trailed behind her as she scurried around the kitchen.
When everyone arrived back, I helped her carry the food to the table. Zeke laughed at something Dan said. Michael, looking sullen, didn’t speak. We gathered around the table, and Uncle Howard said the blessing.
Michael didn’t eat much, just moved his food around on the plate. His bloodshot eyes steadily avoided me. Occasionally, he rubbed his unshaven chin. He only spoke when answering a question from Aunt Liza or Uncle Howard.
Dan praised Aunt Liza’s cooking and talked with Uncle Howard of hunting, inviting him to deer hunt on his father’s land when we visited at Christmas. He also gave Zeke attention, promising he would take him riding if Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza approved.
After supper, he even offered to help with the dishes, but Aunt Liza waved all of us away, telling us to go visit.
Michael shook his head. “I’d best be leaving. Thank you for supper.”
He went out, into the night, and I followed after him. Ignoring me, he headed to his truck and reached behind the seat. In the light spilling from the house, I could see him raise a bottle to his lips and take a drink.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He turned to face me. “I could ask the same of you.”
“What have I done?”
“I dunno. You tell me.” He gave me a long, cold stare.
“Michael, I’m sorry if you think I’ve done something wrong. But I haven’t. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” He gave me an angry look, then pulled me to him and kissed me, his unshaven face scratching mine.
I pushed him away. “You’re drunk.”
“No, not yet.” He took another swig from the bottle.
“Michael, I don’t want you here drinking like this. What would Uncle Howard and Aunt Liza think?”
He laughed harshly. “That’s a good one.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes narrowed. “Maybe you need to ask them.”
“Are you saying they drink? You’re drunk as a skunk if you believe that.” Anger boiled inside me.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Forget them. Listen to me, Jay—are you going to tell Drake to clear out?”
I slowly shook my head. “It’s not my house. I’m not the one who decides who stays.”
He clenched his teeth. “You’re not, heh?” He laughed harshly. “You’d best be getting back in to your company.” He swung onto the running board of the truck.
“He’s not my company!” I struggled to calm myself before I spoke again. “Michael . . . you can’t leave like this. You’re not in any shape to drive.”
“I’m not? Just watch me.” He dropped onto the seat, slammed the door, and gunned the motor.
He sped away, the horse trailer careening behind him. I clenched my hands into fists, the nails digging into my palms. How dare he act like this. . .drinking, making accusations? Well, if that was the way he wanted it, who needed him?
I stomped back to the porch, anger throbbing, my head aching, my heart breaking.
Chapter 11—Dan’s Help
Before going in, I sat down in the swing, gulping in the night air as if it were water.
I missed Poppa so much! He could have told me what to do. Chance lay his head on my knee, and I buried my face into his fur.
The door squeaked open, and I straightened and slowed my breathing.
Dan. Without speaking, he sat down beside me.
“Michael leave?”
“Yes.” I averted my eyes.
“I’m sorry if I caused you trouble. . .”
I plastered a smile on my face. “No trouble. Michael just needed to get home.”
We swung in silence for a few minutes, and I shivered. I had run after Michael without even grabbing a sweater. “I best be getting back inside.” I stood, and Dan got up at the same time.
He blocked my way, and I waited for him to move.
“Jay, your aunt was telling me that you’re behind in your math.”
I gritted my teeth, trying not to be irritated with Aunt Liza. “Yes, a little. I’ve got someone helping me.”
“Listen, I’d be glad to help.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Help?”
He chuckled softly. “I kno
w my grades were never the best in the world, but I’ve always been good in math. I can help you.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure.” My teeth chattered. “I really need to get inside.”
“Oh, sorry!” He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around me before I could protest.
I thanked him, and he swung the door open for me.
“Your uncle fixed a cot out in his shop for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nodded and rushed into the house, calling a good night to my family as I headed for my room.
I grabbed Poppa’s Bible off the dresser, and my mother’s picture fluttered to the floor. I picked it up, and, without undressing, I climbed under the covers. I was so cold that I left Dan’s jacket on. I studied my real mother’s picture and wondered if she had ever had a boyfriend before Poppa. If she had lived, would she have told me things I needed to know? Like how to deal with Michael?
I sighed. I was sure she wouldn’t have liked Michael coming here drinking. Poppa wouldn’t have either.
But Poppa had always taught me to forgive, hadn’t he? Yet, Michael had accused my aunt and uncle of drinking. Isn’t that what he meant? Or, was he talking about someone else? Someone else in my family? I shook my head. Michael was drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying.
I tucked my mother’s picture back into the Bible and climbed out of bed to set it on the dresser. I pulled the string attached to the light, and the room was plunged into darkness.
I lay back down and tried to sort through my feelings. Michael was only behaving this way because he was jealous. Jealous of Dan, of all people. All I needed to do was make him understand there was no need to be jealous. I would write him a long letter tomorrow and make him understand somehow. Once he got over his jealousy, he wouldn’t drink. Would he? Surely his jealousy was the only reason he was drinking. I just had to convince him he had no reason to feel that way.
Michael and I were meant to be together. Of that I was sure. Feeling better, I shrugged off Dan’s jacket, let it fall to the floor, and immediately fell asleep.
“It’s easy,” Dan said. He scratched pencil against paper for a minute. “See? Do you understand this part?”
I nodded my head. Surprisingly, Dan was a good teacher, and I suddenly grasped concepts I had been struggling with.
“You do the next one.” He pushed the paper to me.
I scribbled furiously. “Wow, that is easy.”
He beamed at me, and I smiled back, relieved I was finally catching on.
Aunt Liza and Uncle Howard came into the kitchen.
Uncle Howard poured a cup of coffee from the pot on the back of the stove. “Y’all have been working all day. You need to take a break.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “We were just finishing up.”
“Time I got supper started,” Aunt Liza said.
Dan stood and stretched. “I think I’ll go riding. Would you like to go, Jay?”
There was nothing I’d rather do right then, but I shook my head. “No, I’ve got other homework and some other things to do.” Like writing Michael.
Aunt Liza gazed at me. “Jay, fresh air would do you good. Go on with Dan.”
I gathered up my book and papers. “No, ma’am. I’ve really got a lot to do. I’m sorry.”
Dan flashed a smile, and his dimples deepened. “That’s okay. Maybe Zeke would like to go?”
My heart leaped in my throat. What if Zeke fell off the horse? Maybe I should go to keep an eye on him.
I chided myself for my worry, knowing I couldn’t always be with him.
I nodded my head. “I’m sure he’d love to go if Aunt Liza and Uncle Howard think it’s okay.”
“Just keep a close eye on him, Dan,” Aunt Liza said. She went to the door and opened it to call Zeke.
I headed for my room. It was true I did have other homework, but it could wait. I pulled a clean sheet of paper out of my notebook and thought of what I wanted to say. After several attempts, I finally had what I thought was a good letter.
I reread it to make sure it was pleasant and cheerful but made sure I got my point across. I did not like Dan and never would. I didn’t mention Michael’s drinking or his accusations. There’d be time later to tackle that.
I folded the paper, slid it into an envelope, and addressed it. I went in search of a stamp, but Aunt Liza didn’t have any. I would have to stop by the post office on the way home from school on Monday and buy one.
I finished my homework and Dan and Zeke came back, Zeke flushed, not just with the chilly fall air, but also the excitement of riding the horse.
Aunt Liza had finished supper, and we sat down to eat. Dan glanced at Zeke and me before he cleared his throat.
“Zeke and I’ve been talking. . .” He paused and glanced around the table. “A picture show just came out. . .”
“Can we go, Jay? Please?” Zeke said.
“Which one?” Aunt Liza asked before I could.
Dan smiled at Zeke who squirmed in his seat with excitement. “Heidi. It’s about a young girl...”
“Who goes to live with her grandfather,” I said. “I read the book.”
Aunt Liza clapped her hands together. “I did, too. It was a wonderful book.”
Zeke turned his pleading eyes on me. “Please?”
I shook my head at him. “We don’t have the money.”
“Dan said he would pay, didn’t you, Dan?” Zeke looked from Dan to me.
Dan nodded. “Of course. My treat. I would like to take all of you.” He glanced around the table.
Uncle Howard shook his head. “Sorry, son. I’m teaching Sunday School tomorrow. I need to prepare my lesson.”
“Y’all go ahead and have a good time,” Aunt Liza said. “I’ll stay here and keep Howard company.”
I was trapped. Zeke would never forgive me if we didn’t go, and I couldn’t let him go alone with Dan. And, I had to admit, it would be fun to go to a picture show.
I made up my mind and nodded my head. “All right. Let’s get the kitchen cleaned, so we can get ready.”
Zeke jumped from his seat and gave me a hug before carrying his dishes to the sink. I carried scraps out to feed Chance and the other dogs.
Michael could have been going with us if it had not been for his anger. On second thought, maybe he wouldn’t. He never would have accepted Dan’s charity, and I wasn’t sure if he would want to spend his money.
I put thoughts of Michael aside, the best I could, and decided to enjoy myself. I went back inside to get ready.
Chapter 12—The Test
The show had been wonderful, and Zeke and I thanked Dan. He left on Sunday, right after services.
Monday, I tucked Michael’s letter into my books, planning to buy a stamp after school. I felt confident, walking to school, knowing I was as prepared as I could be for the test Mr. Albertson planned for me. I put away my things and headed to my seat. Marla gave me an encouraging smile.
Mr. Albertson didn’t waste any time. He had written a series of problems across the board and called me to the front as soon as class began. I stepped to the board with assurance.
When he handed me the chalk, I thought he’d put the other students to work. But, no, every eye watched me as I began, the chalk squeaking across the board.
My hands became sweaty, and I rubbed them, one at a time, on my dress. I could do this. Marla had helped me a lot, not to mention Dan. I had spent hours yesterday, on my own, pouring over the book.
I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the problems, ignoring the stares from the class. I worked the first fairly simple problems quickly. Then I began to get bogged down. Each answer I wrote came after much mental toil.
I knew, though, that the answers were correct. If they hadn’t been, I’m sure I would have heard snickers from the other students.
Instead, nothing but silence. Silence except for the ticking clock that hung above the blackboard and the chalk scratching across the board. Although cool in the room, sw
eat dripped from my brow. A trickle rolled down the side of my face, and I swiped it away.
Finally, I came to a problem that stumped me. I stepped back and looked at the five problems left. I furrowed my brow. No, I didn’t remember any of it.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. No, I was sure neither Marla nor Dan had shown me problems like these. I handed the chalk back to Mr. Albertson.
“Why are you leaving problems unfinished?” he asked.
I met his gaze steadily, knowing I had done my best. “I don’t know how to do them.”
Feet shuffled. Marla had her hand in the air, waving frantically. Mr. Albertson ignored her. He walked to the board and studied my work. I heard a heavy sigh and glanced at Marla who still had her arm raised.
The slim boy with freckles, Andrew, I thought was his name, looked from me to her and shrugged. What was going on? Several people shook their heads, and two girls whose names I didn’t know whispered together. Sylvia and her friends stared straight ahead.
Mr. Albertson marked two of my answers wrong plus the other five I had not attempted.
“Sixty-five per cent, Miss Hunter. Sixty-nine is a passing grade. Get your things. You’ll be going back to ninth grade.”
I grabbed my books from my desk before moving toward the cloakroom. Several students shuffled restlessly, and two other hands joined Marla’s in the air.
Mr. Albertson ignored them.
“Class, open your book to page . . .”
“Mr. Albertson,” Marla said firmly. She rose to her feet. “You gave Jay. . .Sarah Jane problems from chapters we have not covered yet.”
Several voices assented. I stopped at the cloakroom door.
“Miss Phillips, when I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” He walked to where she stood and glared at her. “Sit down.”
She obeyed reluctantly. I ducked into the cloakroom.
Marla had stood up for me. And others, too. Waves of emotion washed over me. My heart swelled in my chest, and I blindly gathered my sweater and syrup can.
Several students still mumbled under their breath when I slipped out the door.
I now knew the way to the office and found it easily. Miss Ballard raised her eyebrows at me when I arrived at the counter.
Clothed in Thunder Page 5
