The Sound of Rain Page 18
Judd rapped on the door and waited. He heard voices inside—one angry, one cajoling. Finally, Sally cracked the door open, then held it wider.
She hollered over her shoulder, “Pete, it’s Judd. Surely you don’t mind seeing him?”
They heard a grunt from the sitting room, and Sally motioned him on in. She spoke softly. “He still hasn’t told me exactly what happened, but he’s cranky as an alligator that hasn’t eaten in a month.”
Judd nodded, figuring it wasn’t his place to tell Sally her husband quit his job that day. He stepped into the sitting room, where Pete sat in an armchair staring out the window.
“What d’you want?”
Judd held out a black lunch box. “You left in such a hurry, you forgot this.”
“Don’t need it no more.”
Judd eased down onto the end of the sofa, setting the lunch box on the floor at his feet. “Anything I can do to help?”
Pete turned raw eyes on his friend. “You’re the only one who gives a—” he glanced toward the kitchen where Judd suspected Sally was listening—“hoot.” He flopped his head back against the chair. “That land belonged to my pappy. He lived there in little more than a shack with my grandmother till she died. Should be mine now, but old man Heyward cheated us.” He raised his head, fire in his eyes again. “You saw how good the timber is. You know how much it’s worth. He’s just rubbing it in, sending me out there to work that stand. Well, I won’t do it.”
Judd had no idea about the truth of what Pete was telling him, but he could see how there might be hard feelings no matter what had happened. “Sorry to hear that,” he said.
Tears welled in Pete’s eyes. “Dang if I don’t think you are.” He shook his head. “I never have seen the like of you, Judd Markley, but I sure am glad you crawled in under that tree to doctor me back in August.” He braced his hands on his thighs. “You stick around and eat supper with us. Sally’s in there trying to cook something to put me in a better mood and I’m inclined to let her think it’s worked.”
“Have you thought what you’ll do for a job now?” Judd asked.
“Aw, I can probably get hired on with another outfit. I was working for Heyward mostly ’cause I hoped to get something on him.” His eyes narrowed. “Seems like you might could help me out with that if you wanted to. I’ve got a notion to do a little treasure hunting out there on that land. Might turn up something that’ll shed a whole new light on this situation.”
Judd held up his hands and started to speak, but Pete interrupted him. “Naw, I guess not. That’s what I like about you. Don’t meddle in other people’s messes. C’mon then, let’s eat.”
Larkin and Kyle had gotten into the habit of visiting Granny Jane most afternoons since she was the only one who seemed willing to let Larkin do anything.
“I’m glad you’re going home to see your kin for Christmas, but I surely will miss having you’uns around.” Granny sat in her favorite chair near the stove, a walking stick close at hand.
“We’ll miss you too, Granny, but we’ll be back to ring in the new year.”
Granny eyed Larkin as though she were examining her very soul. Finally satisfied with whatever she saw there, she nodded and thumped her cane. “That’s right. You’ll be here for Old Christmas and that’s the one that matters most.” Before Larkin could ask what she meant, Granny added, “Today we’ll make molasses candy.”
Kyle brightened, and Larkin could feel the excitement vibrating through his fingers where they clasped hers.
“Boy, fetch that jar of molasses down off the shelf.” Kyle scurried to do her bidding as Granny directed Larkin to mix the viscous sweetener with water and a little salt in a saucepan. After it boiled a good while, she showed them how to drop a little bit into a cup of water to see if it formed a soft or firm ball. Once it was at the hard-ball stage, Larkin shifted the pan to the table and let it cool.
“Now get some of that butter there and rub it into your hands real good,” Granny said.
Larkin was mystified but did as she was told, giggling with Kyle as they slicked up their hands. Granny smiled right along with them.
“Now stick your finger in there and see if you can stand it.”
Larkin touched the surface of the candy and found it plenty warm but thought she could stand it. Maybe she was tougher than when she’d first arrived.
“Scoop up a handful and start stretching it out between your hands.”
Larkin obeyed, flinching at the heat but finding she could manage if she moved quickly. The string of candy was lustrous and lovely. As she pulled, doubling it back on itself, the color began to lighten and the candy cooled.
“Once it’s cool enough, get that boy in there to help,” Granny said. “Stretch it out wide and keep going until it gets stiff.”
Kyle stepped up and pulled and pulled the sweet stuff until it had gone from brown to a golden yellow and got harder and harder to pull. Granny had Larkin lay it out and cut bite-sized pieces that were meant to be left until they’d fully hardened. But none of them could resist popping a piece of candy into their mouth—not even Granny, who had to gum it.
Granny sat smiling in her rocking chair while Larkin sat with Kyle leaning against her knee. They stayed still for a moment, savoring the sweetness of the candy and listening to the fire pop in the stove.
“Child,” Granny said at last, “you have brought more life into this little cabin in the last month than I remember in the last twenty years.” She closed her eyes and rocked some more. “I’ve been on my own since Ellis—that was my husband—died back in ’38. But I think a part of me has been dead since my boy passed. He had the rheumatic fever, and I knew he probably wouldn’t live long, but the day he turned twelve he sat up in bed and shot a groundhog out the window. He was so proud.” Granny stilled and opened her eyes. “You think I’ll see him again in Paradise?”
Larkin pulled Kyle a little more snugly to her side. “Yes, ma’am. Ben was telling me something about how King David’s baby boy died, and David decided it wasn’t any use to grieve since he couldn’t bring the child back, but he could go to be with him one day. If a king believed it, we can, too.” An image of Lill passed through Larkin’s mind. She thought Granny Jane and Lill would get along like a house afire and maybe, one of these days, they’d get to meet. She smiled. “Yes, I surely do think you’ll see Ellis and your son again.”
“That will be fine,” Granny said. “Now you and that boy git on home before dark falls. And take most of that candy with you.” She grinned. “Although you might leave me a piece or two.” Her smile spread. “In case company comes.”
Chuck motioned Judd over as he climbed down from the skidder. He’d been on it a week and was just beginning to feel like he wasn’t slowing the guys down. He hoped the foreman wasn’t going to take him off it.
“Hank said to send you on back to the main office toward quitting time today. Don’t know what for, but maybe you’re gonna get a raise.”
The way Chuck spoke the words made Judd think he was just trying to sound positive. Judd wondered if he was in trouble. Maybe Mr. Heyward hadn’t forgiven him for carting Larkin off to the mountains after all. He guessed if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t think much of it himself.
He drove over to the office, remembering that hot summer day when he’d first laid eyes on Larkin in her pretty sundress. He’d learned there was more to her than he first suspected. Maybe her father had, too.
Hank was sitting in his truck in the parking lot. He got out and waited for Judd. “Mr. Heyward’s got someone in there right now. Should be done in a few minutes.”
“You know what he wants?” Judd asked.
Hank shrugged. “Even when I think I know, I’m wrong half the time. It’s probably better to wait and see what he has to say.”
Judd nodded, thinking that sounded like something Abram might tell him. He looked off toward the ocean, imagining he could hear it now that there wasn’t much traffic and only half so many buildings
between here and there. He could smell it sure enough and, even though it was mid-December, there was still a softness to the air that reminded him of early spring.
“Say, you know anything about Mr. Heyward getting that tract we’re working on from Pete’s dad?”
Hank leaned against Judd’s truck and crossed his arms, one eye on the front door of the office building. “Is that why he walked off the job?”
“Seems like.”
“Yeah, from what I hear, Pete’s dad—Wade Dixon was his name—was bad to drink and maybe played cards with the wrong people. You know, the sort who don’t take kindly to being owed money. I don’t know the details, but I think maybe he needed cash pretty bad. Seems like he’d been knowing Mr. Heyward all his life, and Heyward saw his chance to get a prime piece of land.” He straightened as a man in a suit and tie exited the building. “If I had to guess, I’d say they both got what they wanted at the time. I can see how Wade might have come to regret it, though.”
Judd nodded without commenting and followed Hank toward the building. One mystery was solved, and now he was about to dig into another.
“Judd, come on in here, son, and make yourself comfortable.”
George Heyward was downright effusive in his welcome. It made Judd nervous. He eased into the padded chair Mr. Heyward indicated and crossed his legs. He hoped this wouldn’t take long. He’d developed a hankering to set his feet in the sand and watch the waves roll in before it got dark.
Mr. Heyward hitched one leg up on the front edge of his desk and angled toward Judd. Hank lurked in a far corner. “I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter when she . . . hornswaggled you into taking her to Kentucky. I appreciate how your family took her in and the way you treated her with respect.”
Judd didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent.
Mr. Heyward waited a beat, then went on. “She and”—he flinched, but Judd didn’t think he was supposed to notice—“her brother are apparently coming south for Christmas.” He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “As you can imagine, Augusta is very excited.”
Judd still had no idea what it was Mr. Heyward wanted with him. He sat quietly, hands folded, and waited to find out.
Mr. Heyward cleared his throat. “They likely won’t be here long, but I . . . ah . . . had the impression you might . . . ah . . . admire my daughter.”
Judd fought to keep his astonishment at bay. Mr. Heyward stood and paced a little.
“And so I thought I’d let you know that you have my . . . permission to call on Larkin while she’s back in town.” He perched on his desk again. “You’re a good man, and if you could, oh, I don’t know, give her incentive to return to South Carolina, well, that would suit me fine.”
Judd didn’t know that he or anyone else had the power to get Larkin to do anything she didn’t want to, but at the same time he would surely welcome a chance to spend more time with her. She could be strong-willed and uncooperative, but he’d missed her far more than he would have guessed. And he wouldn’t have supposed in a hundred years that her father would approve of his sparking her.
“That’s quite a compliment, sir.”
Mr. Heyward looked relieved. “Then you’d like to see her?”
“I reckon I would.”
“Excellent. We’ll expect you for Christmas dinner then. I’m assuming you don’t have other plans?”
Judd shook his head, struck dumb by the invitation.
“Excellent. Come at two in the afternoon. For some reason Augusta thinks we have to eat at an odd hour.”
Mr. Heyward circled behind his desk, sat, and picked up a pen. He glanced at Judd, who still sat, unmoving. Judd got the message and leapt to his feet, exiting the office with a look at Hank, who offered nothing more than a slight shrug before closing the door.
Chapter
25
Larkin paced her room. She was torn between sinking into what she now recognized as luxury and feeling guilty that the people she’d met back in Logan probably wouldn’t ever experience anything half as nice. Her four-poster bed was piled high with pillows, china dolls from her youth stared at her from a shelf, and the sheer quantity of beauty products on her dresser took her by surprise. She wished she could take one of the dolls to Judd’s niece Grace, maybe a pot of moisturizer to Lydia, and some perfume for Granny Jane. She giggled at the image of the old woman dabbing “Joy” behind her ears.
Flopping on the bed, Larkin stared at the light fixture. She’d barely seen her father since they’d arrived that afternoon. Mother insisted she have a bath and lie down before they went to Christmas Eve services at First Presbyterian Church. She’d carted Ben off to the sunroom to get “reacquainted.” Well, of course she had—she hadn’t seen him in years.
Larkin wondered if Judd knew she’d come home. Which led to wondering if he’d even care, which led to misery, so she stopped thinking that way. Instead, she went across the hall to the bathroom, where she took a long, hot shower. It was probably the first time in her life she’d fully appreciated indoor plumbing, and all she could think was how much Kyle would love to splash in the bathtub. Maybe with a toy boat.
Larkin toweled off thinking about the people of Logan, Kentucky. They hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms and she didn’t think she’d done anything much to help them, but somehow she missed the place just the same. She missed the smell of coal burning and the taste of beans, the solemn-faced children who were serious even in play, the women with their lined faces and worn hands. She even missed the stoic men, who sat so straight in church and were always ready to help one another. She was beginning to wonder if it was even possible for her to really and truly be a help to those people who seemed so proud and self-sufficient. Still, Ben had found a way and maybe she would, too. She just had to stick with it.
Wrapping herself in a fluffy robe, Larkin considered that she did not miss the cold. If only there were a way to combine the two places and all the people she wanted in her life. That was the sacrifice, she supposed.
Dinner was a mostly silent affair. Ben took a stab at conversation, but Daddy glared at him like he’d just broken out of jail, and they soon subsided into silence.
Back in her room, Larkin pulled out a midnight-blue velvet dress to wear to church. She hadn’t worn it since the previous holiday season. Normally, she and Mother would have gone shopping for something new, but there’d been no time, and now that she thought about it, Larkin had to admit there wasn’t any reason, either. The price of a new dress would feed most of Logan for a week.
Sliding the frock over her head, Larkin found it a bit looser than she remembered. She held her hands out in front of her and examined the short nails, the chapped skin. She felt her arm and thought she might even have some new muscles from hauling firewood and water. Skipping makeup, she slid a brush through her hair and tied it back with a ribbon that matched the dress. She looked at herself in the mirror and wasn’t sure she recognized the woman looking back at her. It certainly wasn’t the girl who’d first laid eyes on Judd Markley on a steamy August afternoon. She wondered if he’d notice a difference if he saw her.
“Larkin, hurry up, sweetheart.” That was Mother.
Larkin scurried down the stairs to where the rest of the family waited. Daddy was pretending to admire a Currier and Ives print in the entry hall. Mother’s arm was linked through Ben’s, and they both glowed with pleasure. Larkin slid her own arm through Daddy’s in a fit of holiday spirit, and although he looked surprised, he patted her hand and walked her out to the car.
The drive to church was quiet, only now it felt more reverent than awkward. Christmas lights twinkled, with more than one house having a candle shining in the window. Larkin hadn’t paid much attention in the past, but Granny had told her how she always put a candle in her window on Christmas Eve to welcome Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus. Larkin laughed, because of course they weren’t really coming, but Granny had stilled her with a touch and said, “Oh, bu
t they are coming.” She tapped her chest. “And there’s always room in my heart.”
They pulled up at the brightly lit church and were greeted by businessmen, politicians, socialites, and anyone else who mattered in Myrtle Beach. Patty and Nell rushed up and nearly knocked Larkin to the ground as they hugged and exclaimed over her.
“Oh, we’ve missed you ever so much. The weekends are an absolute drag without you around,” Patty said. She gave Nell a sharp look. “Especially since Nell’s started encouraging Leon. I told her he’ll take her seriously if she’s not careful.”
Larkin watched her friend’s cheeks pink and eyes glow. “Maybe she wants him to take her seriously,” she said.
“Humph. While I’d love to have her for my sister, I could never expect her to tolerate my brother long enough to do it.”
Nell laid a hand on Patty’s arm. “He’s not that bad, you know. He’s actually really sweet.”
Patty rolled her eyes and linked her arm with Larkin’s. “Oh, maybe not. I just think you could do better. Now, how about you, Larkin? Have you found a handsome coal baron to sweep you off your feet?” They started toward the front door. “And when are you coming back home? Even if there is someone, I can’t imagine living so far north.” She said the word north like Larkin was living in Siberia.
Thankfully, Larkin was saved from having to answer by her father, who motioned them through the front door like a conductor indicating that the train was about to leave the station. Larkin gave her friends a smile and a shrug and hurried them inside, where they parted to sit with their families.
Pastor Brearley stepped up to the pulpit and began the service. Larkin tried to pay attention but caught herself scanning the crowd over and over. Who was she looking for? It wasn’t as though she’d been gone long enough to miss anyone much. She saw Wayne sitting with a pretty girl she didn’t know. She might have minded that once, but didn’t tonight.