The Sound of Rain Page 12

  Outside, she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Is it always this cold?”

  “It’s not cold yet. Haven’t even had the first hard frost.” He scuffed his boot, sighed, and removed the lightweight jacket he’d put on to go out and work. It nearly swallowed Larkin, but she pulled it around her throat and smiled and somehow it looked good on her.

  Judd cleared his throat. “I don’t see as we have much choice but to go straight back to Myrtle Beach and try to make amends with your father.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You’ve strung together enough lies and half-truths that your only way out is to own up to them and ask for forgiveness. I’ll have a fair amount of apologizing to do myself considering I was so easily taken in by you.”

  The rosy cheeks were back, but Judd didn’t think it was the cold this time. “If you’d rather not tell the whole story to Abram and Lydia, I guess you could say you got cold feet and want to go home—something like that. Although seems to me trying your hand at some solid honesty might not be a bad idea.”

  “Are you lecturing me?”

  Judd rubbed the back of his neck. Now he was starting to feel the morning chill. “Sounds that way, doesn’t it?” He was surprised he couldn’t see steam coming out of Larkin’s ears.

  She removed his jacket and held it out to him. He took it and slipped it on again. “Very well. Why don’t you go give your brother a hand while I explain the situation to Lydia and gather my things.”

  It wasn’t a question, and Judd decided it wouldn’t hurt to give her a little space to smooth her feathers back down. “One hour,” he said. “We’re pulling out of here in one hour.”

  “Fine.”

  Judd ambled on out to the barn, feeling almost satisfied. He hated to leave without helping Abram, but neither did he want to put off facing up to his mistake even one more day. He smiled thinking he really did like Larkin and maybe, once she owned up to the error of her ways, she might even learn a valuable lesson. He ducked his chin into the warmth of his collar and smiled when he realized he could smell her perfume.

  Larkin explained her situation to Lydia, telling her how sorry she was to be leaving again so soon. Grace in particular looked deeply disappointed, and Larkin wished she could stay with these sweet, kind people. But she had a duty to fulfill and she couldn’t let her emotions get the best of her.

  She loaded her things in the trunk, darting looks at the barn. Judd was standing on a ladder or something so that he was sticking halfway out of the damaged roof, but he was facing away from her. She went back inside and hugged her new friends as though her life depended on it.

  “I think you’d do well to wait,” Lydia said. “I’ve learned the hard way it never pays to be in a hurry.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Larkin said. “But sometimes you feel like you have no choice.”

  She walked back outside and looked toward the barn as Judd ducked inside and hollered something down to James where he stood below.

  Judd asked Abram what time it was.

  “Getting on toward ten. You ain’t hungry again already?”

  “No, just figuring it’s time I checked on Larkin. Seems we might have to head on back to South Carolina this morning.”

  Abram looked puzzled. “Is she fickle?”

  Judd guffawed. “That’s one word for it. Come on to the house and we’ll let her explain.”

  They stowed their tools and made their way to the house. Lydia and Grace were on the porch plucking a bird.

  “This ole rooster wasn’t good for anything but making noise and aggravating the hens,” Lydia said. “Thought we’d have chicken and dumplings for supper.”

  “That would be a relief to Larkin if we were staying,” Judd said. “’Course, if she was around when you wrung that bird’s neck, she might not have the stomach to eat it.”

  “Oh no, she was long gone by the time we dispatched this fellow.”

  Judd had to replay that last comment. “Gone. Where’d she go?”

  “On to Kentucky to meet up with that Ben fellow. Said she felt God’s call on her, and as much as she wished she could stay for a few days, she’d best be getting on.” Lydia grinned. “I think she might be sweet on you, Judd. Said she couldn’t bear to tell you goodbye.”

  Judd suddenly understood what people meant when they said something made them want to tear their hair out. He drove his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end.

  “I was supposed to drive her back to South Carolina.”

  Lydia used a candle to singe some pinfeathers. “Guess she changed her mind.”

  Judd groaned. Changed her mind indeed.

  Chapter

  17

  As Larkin drove the worst roads she’d ever seen, she tried to figure out how she was going to find Logan, Kentucky, so she could find Ben. The map splayed across the passenger seat looked so clear, but surely none of the roads marked out on paper were as curvy as the one she was traveling. She had a headache from trying to peer around bends in the road, and it had been far too long since she’d seen a house. Getting lost hadn’t occurred to her as she sped away from the Markley family farm that morning, but now she realized it was a real possibility.

  She’d read about the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys. If she wasn’t mistaken, she was driving through their part of the country even now. Of course, that feud had ended in the previous century, but what if there were other feuds going on? What if she got caught up in some battle between mountain men with rifles? She suppressed a shiver.

  The road seemed to be dropping down into some sort of valley or maybe even a ravine. Rounding another curve, Larkin saw a river and railroad tracks. A train was passing, long and black. She could see coal piled high in each car and could smell something like sulphur hanging in the air. She realized she had a choice of following the river or turning left to cross a bridge beyond the tracks. She pulled over as far off the road as she could get to check the map, although it had been an hour since she’d seen a car. She’d probably do fine to stop in the middle of the road.

  Larkin squinted at the map as the train clattered on by. She traced the line she thought she was traveling—yes, there was a blue line next to it for the river. And crossing the bridge did appear to be the correct route. Folding the map, she put the car into gear and began to ease out onto the rough road. But the car wouldn’t go, as though a giant hand held on to one of the rear tires. She gunned the motor and stalled the engine. Restarting it, she had even less luck. The weight of the car settled low in the back.

  Getting out, Larkin picked her way to the rear of the vehicle and saw the tire was mired in mud. She leaned heavily on the trunk and looked around at the expanse of water and road and trees around her. Nothing and no one. She heard the train whistle in the distance and wondered how long it would be until another one came by. Would a train stop to help someone out of the ditch? She climbed back inside the car and examined the map again. It looked like there was something of a town a few miles beyond the bridge. Maybe she could walk there. She’d just have to dig her most sensible shoes out of her luggage and see what she could find. Thank goodness it was still early in the day, and the sun was doing its best to warm the air. Sighing, Larkin told herself this was just the sort of adventure she’d had in mind when she set out for Appalachia.

  Judd had a fair idea of how to get from Bethel to Logan, Kentucky—he just wondered if Larkin did. Fool woman. Abram had given up the day’s work to ride with Judd as he searched for what he thought of as an exotic southern flower about to face its first hard frost. He could think of at least a dozen terrible things that could happen to Larkin, and as mad as he was at her, he couldn’t stand imagining any of them.

  “Bullheaded, that’s what she is.”

  Abram nodded and stroked his beard. “Awful purty, though.”

  Judd glared at his brother. “Don’t see as that matters a hill of beans.”

  “If I ain’t mistaken, you’re sweet on her.�
�

  Judd grunted. “You’re mistaken. How could I be sweet on someone who’d lie to me, then run off and risk who knows what in country she has no clue about navigating?”

  “Sounds like she has the courage of her convictions. Willing to risk her reputation and maybe more to do something she believes in. Reminds me of . . . Joe.”

  Judd sagged behind the steering wheel. “That doesn’t mean I’m sweet on her.”

  “If you say so.” Abram went back to watching the country slide by. “How you reckon to run her to ground?”

  “If anyone’s seen her in that mint-colored convertible, they’ll surely remember. We’ll just have to do some asking around.”

  Two hours later, after talking to some kids cutting cornstalks for fodder and then a preacher out traveling the circuit on horseback, they felt like they were pretty well on Larkin’s trail.

  “If this is the way she come, she’s right fair turned around,” Abram said.

  “About what I expected,” Judd answered. “Probably find her in a ditch somewhere crying her eyes out.” He softened at the idea. “Not that I’d wish that on her.”

  “’Course not.” Abram squinted through the cracked windshield of his truck. “You see something a shade of green that don’t appear quite natural up there ahead?”

  Judd did. It was the Buick, and it was stuck in a ditch just like he’d imagined. He felt a surge of hope that swamped his anger and washed it a little farther out to sea. He pulled in behind the car, careful not to get into the swampy spot that trapped Larkin. He expected her to pop out of the car and run to greet them, but there was no movement.

  “She’s probably embarrassed. Or asleep.”

  He got out to investigate, only to find the car empty. Hope was replaced by a wave of fear that made his earlier emotions seem like morning mist. What he felt now was a heavy fog settling over his heart. He glanced around. While there were good folks in the mountains, there were bad ones, too. Just like everywhere. He gnawed his lip and considered what to do. Glancing inside the car, he saw her map. The door was unlocked and nothing looked disturbed. Maybe she decided to walk somewhere. He examined the map and saw it was folded to a road—not this road—that ran along a river and crossed a bridge. Beyond the bridge was a town. Larkin likely thought she could walk there. Of course, since she was in another place entirely, she had a lot of walking ahead of her. Judd raced back to the truck and headed for the bridge. They had to catch up to her before someone else—someone unsavory—did.

  Judd thought he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as the truck bounced across the bridge and began climbing a hill. There was an occasional house or barn, and once a truck squeezed past them on the narrow road, but there was little that seemed likely to attract Larkin.

  “She might’ve stopped to ask for help,” Abram said.

  “Or she might’ve kept walking, thinking she’d come to a town with a telephone so she could call that Ben she keeps talking about,” Judd said.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “You’re worried she’s in love with this Ben feller. I thought he was just a missionary or something.”

  “I don’t rightly know what he is, but it doesn’t matter.” Judd could feel the tension driving his shoulders up around his ears. “I just want to find her before she gets into any more trouble.”

  Abram nodded like he knew the true story. Judd fought down the urge to kick his brother out of the truck. That wouldn’t help the situation at all.

  They rounded a bend and saw a hand-lettered sign that read, For Sale—Rabbits.

  “Let’s ask these folks if they’ve seen her,” Judd said, turning down the rutted drive.

  “She partial to rabbits?”

  “I don’t know, but she might see that sign as a sort of invitation.” Judd thought it was a weak idea, but he was grasping at straws now.

  They pulled up in front of a small brick house with a concrete porch out front. Wrought-iron posts held up the neatly patched porch roof, and the trim was crisp and white. Judd could see a grape arbor off to one side, and a hedge was trimmed into a uniform rectangle. The door creaked open, and a woman with cottony white hair peered out at them.

  “If you’ve come about the rabbits, we’re plumb out. Last one went just today.”

  Judd approached the porch and propped one booted foot on the edge. “No, ma’am. We’re actually hoping you might know if a friend of ours passed this way. Young woman with reddish-brown hair. She got her car stuck back there a ways, and I thought she might have stopped to ask for help.”

  “Oh, you mean Larkin. Ain’t she the purtiest thing you ever seen?” The woman laid a hand against her breast and stepped out onto the porch. “I’d have been glad to just sit and talk with her all day, but she was all fired up about getting on to Kentucky.”

  “Where is she now?” Judd tried to appear calm, but it was all he could do not to grab the woman by the arms and insist she produce Larkin right there and then.

  “William run her on back to her car. He figured he could pull it out of there with his truck and point her in the right direction. Land sakes, but she got turned around somewhere. William will give her the right of it, though. He knows a shortcut over to Highway 52. Once that runs into 119, she’ll be fine—take her right on into Kentucky.”

  Judd thought he might have to sit down. “When did they leave?”

  “Oh, must have been an hour or so ago.” She looked beyond Judd’s shoulder. “Here comes William now. Must’ve got her going just fine.”

  An older man in green dungarees with a crease ironed down the front hopped out of his truck with the spring of a man half his age. “Howdy. If you come about the rabbits, we’re plumb out.”

  “No, William, they come about the girl, not the rabbits.”

  “Well that’s good, then. You kin of hers?”

  “Not exactly,” Judd said. “But her father will expect me to get her home again safely.”

  William nodded like he knew just what Judd meant. “Reckon she’s halfway there by now. She was awful eager to get back to that mission work.” He got misty-eyed. “Awful good to see the younger generation on fire for the Lord like that. You a preacher?”

  Judd opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. “I’m not. Just a friend trying to look after Larkin.”

  The old man’s eyes gleamed. “She needs lookin’ after. You catch on up to her and she just might let you do it.” Then he laughed and stepped up on the porch where he wrapped an arm around the waist of his wife. “Get you a good ’un the first time and you won’t have to look ever again.”

  His wife swatted at him. “William, quit acting the fool and tell these boys how to get over to Highway 52 so they can catch up with that girl.”

  Three hours later, Judd poked Abram who was snoring softly on the passenger side of the truck. “We’re here.”

  Abram snorted, rubbed his eyes, and pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose. “Where’s here?”

  “Logan, Kentucky.” He nodded out the window. “And there’s Larkin’s car out front of that store.

  “Reckon she’s inside?”

  “I aim to find out.”

  Judd climbed out of the truck, stretched, and took a deep breath. What, exactly, was he going to say? He rubbed his hands down his shirtfront, smoothing it and drying his suddenly sweaty palms at the same time. He guessed he’d know what to say once he said it.

  Larkin stood inside what she supposed was meant to be a store. There looked to be a little bit of everything jammed inside without much rhyme or reason. Brooms stacked next to shoes, canned goods beside penny nails, and bolts of fabric stacked beside tin pails. She didn’t see anyone right away and was grateful for a few moments to orient herself. She could smell oil and dust, which turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant combination.

  Feeling her confidence returning, Larkin moved further inside. A pear-shaped man wearing a long apron stepped out of the back room. “Can
I help you?”

  “I certainly hope you can,” she said with as much charm as she could muster. The man smiled and stepped behind a counter where he braced both hands.

  “If I don’t have it, you don’t need it. What can I get you?”

  Before Larkin could ask him about Ben, she heard the door open and glanced behind her. She choked on her words as Judd Markley stepped inside. He didn’t speak, just nodded and moved to a shelf as though examining the soap powders displayed there.

  “I, uh, well you see . . .” Larkin took a steadying breath. “Actually, I was hoping you could help me find—”

  This time the door didn’t creak on its hinges. It flew open, slamming against the wall. “Larkin Matilda Heyward.”

  She froze and looked toward the front of the store. She’d never liked her middle name, and the only one who used it like that was . . . “Daddy.”

  Chapter

  18

  Either Judd was out of Mr. Heyward’s direct line of sight or he only had eyes for his daughter. Even as Judd fought what he knew was an unreasonable urge to turn coward and run, Larkin spoke.

  “Judd.” Larkin’s voice wavered. “Look. Daddy’s here.”

  “I’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours now. Your mother told me all about your plans to join . . . Ben when you disappeared. What I want to know is where you’ve been in the meantime.”

  He addressed Larkin but had shifted his position so he could look at Judd, who felt he was being accused of something he wasn’t sure how to defend himself against. He had a whole lot of questions, but none rose to the surface. He was trying to formulate an explanation when Larkin stepped forward.

  She moved closer to her father but didn’t touch him. “We’ve been helping Judd’s family. It was on the way and they had hurricane damage, too.” She laughed softly. “Can you imagine? That hurricane made it all the way to West Virginia.”