The Sound of Rain Page 14

  “I came to find you.”

  He glanced around the table. “And brought your entourage?”

  She giggled. “That wasn’t part of the original plan.” She saw the look of thunder on her father’s face and sobered. “Seriously. I wanted to come work in the mission field with you. Didn’t you get my letter?”

  Ben looked uncomfortable. “I did, but I didn’t think you’d really pack your bags and drive north.” He glanced at their father. “And I certainly didn’t think George Heyward would come with you.”

  Daddy’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like for his children to call him by his name. Larkin patted his knee.

  “But now we’re all here and we can begin to make amends for what’s driven the two of you apart.” She gave them both a mock stern look. “Isn’t it about time you boys made up with each other?”

  Her father pushed his bowl back and addressed Maude, who was watching the exchange wide-eyed. “Madam, can you point me toward my overnight accommodations?”

  Maude looked confused, then her brow smoothed. “Oh, you mean your bed.” She tossed her chin toward the cots in the back. “You’uns are welcome to sleep here. I usually go home of an evening. We keep them cots for helpers or for folks in the community who get down and out.” She began to get comfortable with her topic. “Just last month we kept the Childers family for three weeks after their kitchen caught fire. They had some little ones and it was a pure pleasure having them underfoot all the day long.” She smiled, and Larkin realized she was missing several teeth.

  Daddy stood with great dignity and made his way toward the cots. He paused, then reached to pull back the curtain, perhaps hoping to find a cot with a little more privacy.

  “Not there.” Ben’s voice thundered, and Larkin had her first notion that he might be a powerful preacher.

  Daddy’s hand froze and then he pivoted, glared at Ben, and took the cot just outside the curtained area. He sat, then reclined fully clothed and stared at the ceiling.

  Maude leaned in. “Reckon he’s alright?”

  “He’s just a bit out of sorts, what with his earlier illness and unexpectedly seeing Ben for the first time in—how long has it been?”

  Ben leaned back in his chair. “Coming up on four years.”

  “Too long,” Larkin whispered.

  She’d been determined to keep any sadness at bay, but it was beginning to creep in. She felt like they’d wasted so much time, and when she saw Ben she’d just known God was finally answering her prayers and was about to heal her broken family. She glanced toward the cots and saw that Daddy had turned his back to them. Why wasn’t this working out? It had seemed fated there for the briefest of moments.

  “Ben, I’m gonna clean up and get myself on home,” Maude said. “I’ll be back tomorrow to fix breakfast for you and—” her eyes darted to the curtain, then back to Ben—“your company.”

  Ben nodded absently. “You’re more than I deserve, Maude.”

  “Oh, go on with you. God made me for this. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”

  Larkin helped the older woman tidy up while Judd and Ben sat in chairs near a potbellied stove. Larkin realized it was getting cold around the edges of the room and she began to wonder if she’d brought enough clothes to keep her warm. December was right around the corner, and she meant to fight with everything she possessed to stay and help her brother.

  After waving Maude off into the night, Larkin joined Judd and Ben. She smelled a sharp sulfurous odor that reminded her of trains and inky darkness.

  “What’s that smell?” she asked.

  “Coal,” Ben said, opening the little door in the side of the stove and scooping some of the black stuff inside.

  “Money,” Judd said and grinned.

  Ben laughed and then took Larkin’s hand. “Seriously, little sister. Why did you come?”

  “I want to help you. I want to help the people in these mountains. I’ve been volunteering at a hospital in South Carolina, and helping people makes me feel . . . alive.”

  Ben blew out a breath. “I take it you and Dad didn’t discuss this ahead of time.”

  “No, he thinks I should marry someone rich, and so does Mother.”

  “That would make your life quite a bit easier.”

  She tugged her hand away. “I don’t want easy. I want good.”

  Ben laughed and slapped his leg. “Now that’ll preach.” He scrutinized Judd. “What about you?”

  “I’m just along for the ride. I’ve got family just over in West Virginia who were hit pretty hard by all that rain and wind a few weeks ago. I’ve been working for your father, but I—uh—got some time off to come lend a hand.” He skewered Larkin with a look that Ben was kind enough to ignore.

  “You’ll be heading back there, then?”

  “Soon enough,” Judd said, and it made Larkin feel inexplicably sad. “Unless I agree to drive Larkin’s car back to South Carolina. Haven’t quite made up my mind yet.”

  “It’s good not to make snap decisions.” Ben spoke to Judd but looked to Larkin.

  “This wasn’t any snap decision. I’ve been thinking about it for months and months.”

  “That long?” Ben asked in a way only an older brother could.

  Larkin folded her arms across her chest. “You’d better give me a chance.” She realized she sounded like she had when they were little and Ben wouldn’t cooperate.

  Ben grinned. “Or what? You’ll tell Daddy?” As soon as he said it, he sobered. “Look, I appreciate you coming all this way and I’ll admit I could use your help, but it’s more complicated than that.”

  “Why?” Larkin asked. “Why does it have to be complicated?”

  Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he looked toward their father’s still form with sorrow-filled eyes.

  Chapter

  20

  Judd had rarely spent so restless a night. When dawn finally softened the windows on the eastern end of the building, he sat up on his cot and tried not to look toward Larkin’s head cradled on a pillow twenty feet away. Never mind that her father and brother were closer by than that. He’d heard every soft sigh and rustle from her cot all the night through.

  But now morning crept ever closer and the room had grown cold. Ben banked the fire in the stove before he crawled into his own cot, and the last of the heat had dissipated hours ago. Frost rimed the windows, and even in her sleep, Larkin burrowed deeper under her quilts.

  Judd was about to get up and see about the fire when Ben slipped out from behind the curtain in the corner. He held a finger to his lips and nodded toward the door. Judd—who’d slept in his clothes—slipped on his unlaced boots and shrugged into the jacket he’d left draped over his feet during the night. He followed Ben out into the frosty November morning.

  Outside, Ben breathed deep, throwing his arms wide. “This is the day the Lord has made,” he said in his pulpit voice.

  “Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Judd answered without thinking, and Ben shot him a look of amusement.

  “Well, you were raised in the church.” He raised one eyebrow. “Did it take?”

  Judd bent down to tie his boots. “Opinions on that vary.”

  “Mm-hmmm. I see.”

  Judd wasn’t sure what he saw, and the fear of what it might be kept him from asking. “What’s the trouble between you and your father?”

  Ben’s shoulders sagged. “There’s no love lost between my father and the church. His own father’s zeal turned him against the trappings of God. Even so, we turned up in the second pew of First Presbyterian Church every Sunday morning.” He flashed a grin. “Guess Dad didn’t expect it to take.” He sobered. “I didn’t tell him about the call I felt on my life and I should have. Then, when he made it abundantly clear he expected me to take over the timber company, my decision not to follow in his footsteps probably felt like treason. We haven’t spoken since, although I’ve written many a letter that’s gone unanswered.”

  Judd scratched his stubbly c
hin. “What’ll happen to Waccamaw Timber when he’s gone?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t quite know. He took the company over from my maternal grandfather, and I think the idea of it passing out of the family is just about the worst thing he can think of.” He glanced toward the hall. “I thought maybe Larkin would somehow take it on, but now that she’s here it would appear that’s less likely than ever. Dad must be just about at the end of his rope.”

  Judd nodded and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He could smell coal smoke in the air—it reminded him of how much he’d missed these mountains in the few months he’d been gone. It also made him miss Joe, but that pain was less sharp here in this place that was familiar and yet not.

  Ben chewed on the inside of his cheek. “From the look of things, we’re leaving the old man out to dry.” He chewed some more, then rubbed his hands together and grabbed an empty coal scuttle.

  “I’ll fill this up—how about you go back in there and stoke what fire’s left? We’ll get some coffee on lickety-split and rouse those sleepyheads.”

  Judd gripped the other man’s arm—gentle but firm. “Who’s behind the curtain?”

  Ben snapped his head around. He searched Judd’s face. “A boy—ten years old. He’s got polio, and his family won’t have anything to do with him.”

  Judd recoiled and caught himself. There’d been a polio outbreak back home two years earlier with several children dying and one left paralyzed. He hadn’t known any of them well, but the fear permeated the community.

  “Is it safe to have him here?”

  Ben tilted his head and looked toward the sky. “None of us are safe this side of heaven, but I’m not worried about catching it if that’s what you mean.” He rubbed his face and looked weary. “He’s through the worst of it and needs physical therapy now. His right leg got hit the hardest—thank God it didn’t affect his diaphragm. If I could just get his parents to bring him home, but they have six others and I understand how afraid they are.”

  Judd quelled the urge to go inside and insist Larkin leave with him right then and there. He stretched his neck. Maybe he understood a little of those parents’ fear himself. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Start the coffee as soon as you get the fire going.” Ben smiled. “I have this feeling I’m going to need it.”

  Judd nodded and tiptoed back inside so as not to wake anyone. He stoked the fire as quietly as he could and then rummaged around until he found the coffeepot and some beans. Shoot. Grinding these was going to make some noise. He glanced toward the sleeping figures on the cots and felt a jolt. George Heyward lay there, a lump under a mound of blankets, but Larkin’s cot was empty. He hurried over and realized he could hear soft voices behind the curtain. He jerked a panel aside and saw Larkin seated on the side of a proper bed with a boy tucked up under her arm.

  Larkin looked up when Judd pulled the curtain aside. She gave him her biggest and brightest smile. She’d rarely felt this content in the whole of her life and she longed to share the good feeling with everyone around her.

  “Judd, this is Kyle. He’s been sick, but he tells me he’s feeling better now.” She looked down at the little boy and squeezed him tighter. “We’ve made plans to look at some books and maybe walk around the room a bit today. Of course, that’s only if Pastor Ben says it’s alright.”

  “Pastor Ben says it’s more than alright.” Ben stood beaming at them like he’d never seen anything more wonderful in his life.

  Daddy stirred and sat up. “If there’s going to be this much noise, there’d better be coffee.”

  Ben gave Judd an expectant look, and Larkin had to hide her amusement. Apparently, Judd was falling down on his assigned tasks. He flashed a look she couldn’t interpret and then went back to the kitchen area to make coffee.

  Ben pinned the curtain back and settled into a chair near Kyle’s bed. “You’re looking strong this morning.”

  Kyle smiled and raised one skinny arm to flex his muscle. There wasn’t much to it.

  “No more hot compresses for you,” Ben said. “Now we need to get those legs strong again. I think Larkin’s just the one to help you with your exercises this morning.”

  Kyle looked up at Larkin with such joy in his eyes it took her breath away. She swallowed past a lump. “I’d be delighted.”

  Ben showed her how to work with Kyle to do some simple exercises while Daddy watched, arms folded across his chest and eyes hooded. “Is it safe for her to be doing that?”

  “I can’t think why it wouldn’t,” Ben said, but there was tension in his voice.

  Daddy finally stood and went to the table where Judd was setting out stout mugs. The smell of the brewing coffee permeated the air and made Larkin realize how hungry she was. Her stomach gurgled and Kyle giggled.

  “Are you laughing at the way my tummy’s talking?”

  He nodded.

  “Well I’m going to see if I can get yours to talk back.” She started to tickle the boy, who giggled louder and rolled around on his bed trying to get away, though not very hard.

  Ben interrupted them to ask how many eggs they thought they could eat.

  “Oh, I can eat at least six,” said Larkin, watching Kyle.

  His eyes got big. He sat up and puffed his chest out. “Me too.”

  Ben laughed. “I’ll be surprised if you can eat six between the both of you. How about I start you off with two each and we’ll go from there?”

  Kyle nodded, looking relieved, and Larkin laughed from pure joy. How in the world could this moment with a sick child, an angry father, a long-lost brother, and an annoyed former coal miner bring such happiness into her life? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she wanted more of it. She gave Kyle a piggyback ride to the table, more determined than ever to remain here, no matter what her father had in mind.

  Judd looked around the table and marveled at the varied expressions. Ben seemed bemused—maybe uncertain about what he was going to do with his unexpected visitors beyond breakfast. Mr. Heyward was sour—mouth tight, barely speaking, anger radiating off him. And then there was Larkin, who seemed to pour pure light out into the room where Kyle—who wasn’t nearly big enough to be ten—soaked it up like sunshine.

  It occurred to Judd that he’d be willing to do just about anything to keep that look on Larkin’s face. He didn’t know if there was a thing he could do to help the situation, but right then and there he determined to try. He’d never been one for meddling, yet Larkin made him want to stick his oar in—welcome or not.

  Judd was trying to think how to get everyone to put their cards on the table as Ben dished up eggs and ham all around. He sat and bowed his head, so Judd did likewise. After a short prayer, there was little sound beyond forks clicking against plates.

  “Seems like we’ve all got some decisions to make,” Judd said.

  Ben laid down his fork. “That we do. And Dad, I’ve been thinking about how you must feel like I’m letting you down, not carrying on the family business.”

  Mr. Heyward’s eyes opened a little wider and he leaned in. “Have you now?”

  “I have. And I want you to know how sorry I am. I realize this”—he indicated the room and whatever was beyond it with a wave of his hand—“isn’t what you had in mind for me.”

  Hope dawned on Mr. Heyward’s face. “Son, if you’d just realize how important it is that you—”

  Ben held up a hand. “Dad, recognizing the pain I’ve caused you doesn’t change anything. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I’ll always choose to serve my heavenly Father first. I just want you to know seeing you here like this has made me appreciate how hard this must be for you and I’m sorry for that.”

  Mr. Heyward stood, grating the legs of his chair over the wood floor. “You’re sorry for that? And I’m supposed to be satisfied?” His face began to turn red, and Judd feared a repeat of the day before.

  “Mr. Heyward, the doctor said you should try to stay calm.” Judd felt pretty certain he was overs
tepping his bounds, but he felt like he had to do something.

  The older man sank back into his chair, much to Judd’s surprise. “Calm? How can I stay calm when the future of Waccamaw Timber Company is disintegrating before my eyes?”

  “Oh, Daddy, surely it’s not as bad as all that.” Larkin tried sharing a little sunshine with her father. “You’ve got years and years ahead of you to run the company, and if Ben doesn’t want to take it on, maybe one of us will have a grandchild you can train up.” She blushed and looked at the floor as she spoke. “Or maybe Hank could take the company over one of these days. You trust him like family.”

  Mr. Heyward hung his head and swung it side to side. “After all I’ve done.” He looked toward the ceiling. “I’m the one who got the goods on Waccamaw’s biggest competitor and made sure they’d go under. I worked long hours and sacrificed so much to become indispensable to your grandfather. He didn’t think I was good enough for Augusta, but I proved myself to him over and over again. I made something of myself so that I could give my children all the advantages my own father denied me.” He finally met Ben’s gaze. “And now you’ve thrown it all right back in my face. Both of you.”

  Ben opened his mouth to speak, but his father held up a hand. “If neither you nor Larkin are able—or willing—to take over the company, then after I’m gone it will go to a cousin who could be dead for all I know. Your grandfather Victor’s sister married poorly, but I understand there was a child who may yet be found.”

  Ben waited a few moments, then spoke. “Which I presume would be highly unsatisfactory. So the question is, what do you propose we do now?”

  The older man drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s not too late for you to come back and step into your rightful place.” He ducked his head and the drumming stopped. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  Ben puffed out some air. “I know. I know. But God has other plans and I’ve long been determined to be obedient to Him. Maybe we should look for this cousin.”

  Mr. Heyward stood, sending his chair toppling backward. “You would give the company away to a stranger?” His hands shook. “If you choose to let Waccamaw Timber Company atrophy or slip away, I can’t stop you.” He turned toward the door. “If nothing else, you’ve confirmed the decision I made to turn my back on you.” At the door he stopped and looked toward the group still sitting at the breakfast table. “Larkin, you go ahead and do whatever you want. Why should any of my children honor or obey me?” Then he slipped out the door, and moments later they heard an engine start and tires crunch over dirt and stone as George Heyward headed south once again.