The Sound of Rain Read online

  “Not as much as I know about mining coal, but I figure to learn.”

  Hank slapped his knee. “Good enough. I’ll need to run it by Mr. Heyward, but you can count yourself good as hired. Got a place to stay?”

  “Nope. I have yet to set foot on South Carolina soil.”

  “Well son, I think you’ll like it. Although it’s a mite sandier than what you’re used to.”

  Judd turned to look out the window at the scrubby pines whipping past the window. He’d call this Providence if he believed in such things. But if Providence were real, it would have saved Joe’s life. If Providence were real, he wouldn’t even be here—a man without a home drifting on a southern breeze.

  Chapter

  3

  MYRTLE BEACH, SOUTH CAROLINA

  Larkin flounced into her father’s office at the Waccamaw Timber Company headquarters and perched on the edge of his desk, giving him her most winning smile. “Daddy, everyone’s going down to the Pavilion this evening. I’m a woman grown now and I can’t imagine why you think I shouldn’t go.”

  Her father looked at her over half-glasses and grunted. “Since when do you do anything because someone else did it first?”

  Larkin huffed. She had every intention of meeting her girlfriends—and maybe some young men as well—but she craved her father’s approval. “You and Mother should come with me.”

  George Heyward leaned back in his chair and laughed deep and long. “That’s a good one. Your mother at the Pavilion.” He looked thoughtful. “Though I’d surely enjoy spinning her around the dance floor a time or two.” He got a faraway look in his eye. “Light on her feet, that one.”

  “Why, Daddy, you sound downright romantic.”

  He gave her a frosty look. “You still have a great deal to learn, young lady. Now shoo.” He motioned her toward the door.

  Larkin scooted back out into the wilting late-August heat choosing to believe her father’s wish to dance with her mother was approval of her own plans to go out that evening. As she stepped onto the sizzling sidewalk, she saw Hank Chapin headed toward the office with a stranger in tow. The man dogging Hank’s steps was at least six feet tall with dark hair and an odd, hitching gait. As they drew closer, Larkin noticed he had the most appealing dimple in his chin and blue-gray eyes that looked . . . tired, she decided.

  “Hey there, Larkin. Your dad inside?”

  “He is, although I’m not sure about his mood.” She tossed her auburn curls and adjusted the straps of her sundress. She was grateful the heat hadn’t had a chance to wilt her too much. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  Hank made a little bow. “Larkin Heyward, this is Judd Markley, lately of Bethel, West Virginia, and soon to become a resident of our fair city.”

  The man held his hand out and smiled, but it didn’t relieve the sorrow of those stormy eyes. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Larkin gave him her hand and ducked her chin. “Likewise.” She looked up. “West Virginia is awfully far away. What brings you this far south in the heat of summer?”

  Judd looked across the street in the direction of the ocean and squinted, as though he thought he might see it if he looked hard enough. “Reckon I needed a change.”

  He looked back at her, and Larkin felt as if he could see past her lipstick, nail polish, and curls to the girl underneath it all. It was unnerving. She pushed hair back from her damp forehead, wishing she’d pulled it back in her signature ponytail. “Well, this must be a change, indeed.” She gave him a nod. “Pleasure to meet you, but I’d better be on my way. Good luck with Daddy,” she said to Hank over her shoulder.

  She walked away feeling the stranger’s eyes on her back. As she turned into the car lot, she snuck a look at him, but he’d turned and was following Hank into the office. She felt a stab of disappointment. But that was silly. He was just a hillbilly. With the saddest, truest eyes she’d ever seen.

  Judd tucked his shirt deeper into his trousers, hoping to smooth out the wrinkles as they entered the office building. Hank had taken him to a boardinghouse and vouched for him so he could get a room without having to pay up front, but he hadn’t had time to do more than dump his bag and wash his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and thought about how fresh and crisp Larkin Heyward looked out there on the sidewalk. He felt cooler just looking at her starched dress against her golden skin.

  Maybe if you lived around here, you got used to the heat. He crossed his arms wishing he’d had time to change into a fresh shirt. He’d sweated through this one. Goodness knows he’d sweated his fair share over the years, but rarely had it been the result of riding in a truck and walking across a parking lot.

  Hank motioned him into an office, where a bull of a man sat behind a desk intent on a stack of paper. He looked at them and pushed his glasses up his nose. He grunted and stood, sticking out a hand.

  “Hank, good to have you back. You get everything straightened out up there in North Carolina?”

  “I did, I did—it wasn’t much of a dustup, after all. Just needed someone to clarify the situation.”

  The man nodded and peered at Judd, squinting a little as though his glasses weren’t strong enough. “Who’s our guest?”

  “George Heyward, this is Judd Markley—he mined coal up in West Virginia and he fought in Korea. Got to know him on the ride back into town. I’m thinking he’ll do right by us on one of the pulpwood crews.”

  Judd stepped up and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m not afraid of hard work. Been doing it since I got big enough to tail my brother into the fields.”

  Mr. Heyward took off his glasses and looked Judd over from top to bottom. “Seems like you had a hitch in your come-along as you walked into the office. Will that affect your ability to work?”

  Judd could have sworn the man hadn’t looked at him until he was standing in front of his desk. “Broke my leg in a mine cave-in.” He thumped the leg in question. “But it’s healed up now. I may not run as fast as I once did, but it won’t keep me from working up a sweat.”

  The older man took in the dark circles under Judd’s arms and got a sly look around his eyes. “It would seem not.” He cocked his head at Hank. “If Hank thinks you’ll do, then you almost certainly will. Hank, start him on the loading crew, and if he works out, train him on the saws.” He looked back at Judd. “You ever use a chainsaw, son?”

  “No, sir, but it can’t be much harder than swinging a pickax stooped over underground. And I’m good with just about any kind of machinery.”

  Mr. Heyward nodded. “You can start on Monday. Hank will get you situated.”

  Obviously dismissed, Judd stepped back out into the hall. Hank followed him and told him to wait while he spoke to Mr. Heyward. Judd stepped over to the window and watched cars and people go by. The only trees he could see looked something like the palm trees he’d seen in a picture of Hawaii one time, but they were smaller and there weren’t any coconuts. The sun was brighter than he thought it could ever be, and people moved slow, like they knew better than to rush in the heat. He watched what had to be folks on vacation drive by in convertible cars and wondered how far it was to the ocean. He had a hankering to walk along the beach and see the surf up close. He’d seen the ocean on his way to and from Korea, but he hadn’t been what you’d call paying attention.

  “You want me to take you back to the boardinghouse? Or somewhere else?” Hank slipped up on him and slapped his shoulder. “I think the boss man likes you.”

  Judd didn’t much care if George Heyward liked him, just so long as he paid him. “I’d like to see the ocean.”

  Hank grinned. “I forgot you’re a mountain boy. Alright then, I’ll drop you down by the pier and pick you up again”—he looked at his watch—“at six. I’ll buy you your first seafood dinner.”

  Judd thought to protest, but when he considered how little cash he had, he opted to swallow his pride. He’d earn a paycheck soon enough and buy Hank a dinner in return.

  �
��Sounds fine.”

  “Excellent. Come on. Let’s get some sand between your toes.”

  Judd stood near the sand dunes considering the array of people scattered across the beach. He tried not to stare at the women in their swimwear. Bare shoulders, legs, and even midsections left him wondering what to do with his eyes. He skimmed over the multicolored umbrellas and blankets before resting his gaze on the water. He took a step into the shifting sand and quickly decided he’d best remove his shoes and socks. Rolling up his pant legs, he tucked his shoes behind a clump of sea grass and picked his way down to the surf.

  Compared to the rocky soil of West Virginia, the sand felt soft under his feet. And hot—fiery hot. Winding his way past families, couples, and other beachgoers, he reached the cooler packed sand where waves curled and receded. Voices, the crashing of the surf, and even sea gulls blended to fill his ears with a roaring that left his mind fuzzy. He stood where the water could lick his toes and scanned the sea before him.

  There were a few swimmers and some children playing near the shore. He tried to take in the extent of the water.

  “Let me guess, it’s not as big as you thought it would be.”

  Judd turned toward the voice to see Larkin Heyward standing there, sandals dangling from one hand and a straw hat hiding glints of fire in her russet hair.

  “It’s not so much that,” he said. “It feels like I can’t see it proper.” He squinted down the beach to where a pier extended into the water. “Maybe if I got up on top of something I could get a good look at it.”

  Larkin laughed like ice in a glass on a hot day, and Judd felt as though something cool had run down his spine. “Come on, then,” she said. “Off to the pier.”

  She started walking and he fell in beside her. She wasn’t in any hurry, and he tried to match his gait to hers.

  “Did Daddy hire you on?”

  “He did. I start Monday on a loading crew.”

  She wrinkled her nose, and Judd stuck his hands in his pockets just for something to do with them. “You’ll burn up out there. Especially not being used to this heat. What did you do before?”

  “I mined coal.” Judd wished he had something better to say. Joe would have told about being a coal miner so that it sounded like something special, something interesting even to a pretty girl on a beach in South Carolina.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound much nicer,” she said, pushing strands of hair back from her face. “I do volunteer work. Daddy says I don’t need to work at all, but Mother says I’d better keep busy, so it’s a compromise.”

  “What sort of volunteering?” Judd was grateful for the breeze off the ocean. He wished he could lift his arms so it would have better access, but didn’t think Larkin would appreciate it.

  “I’m a candy striper at the Ocean View Memorial Hospital—it’s new.”

  Judd didn’t quite know what a candy striper was, but he hated to ask. “That sounds interesting.”

  “Oh, it is. We wear the most adorable pinafores and do things like deliver mail and food to the patients. Some of the girls think it’s a good way to meet doctors.” Her gaze slid toward him from under the brim of her hat. “But I’d really like to be a nurse and help people. I thought this would give me a head start if Daddy ever decides to let me go to school.” She raised her chin. “Or if I decide to go whether he lets me or not. I am twenty-one now. ”

  They walked in silence a few moments. “Actually, I was headed over to the hospital when I saw Hank dropping you off at the beach. I’m not working today, but sometimes I go in for an hour and read to anyone who wants me to.” She sighed. “Mother says idle hands are the devil’s workshop, and she’s mostly right.”

  They finally reached the pier, where Judd took Larkin’s hand to help her up the dunes so they could walk out across the rough boards. Although his feet were plenty tough, Judd wished he’d thought to bring his shoes as Larkin slipped hers back on. They strolled in silence out to the end of the pier and leaned against the railing. Judd took in the expanse of the ocean all around them.

  “Any bigger?” Larkin asked.

  Judd chuckled. “I think it got smaller. Maybe the ocean’s not something any one mind can take in all at once.”

  She looked at him, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Yes, that’s it exactly. You can only look at it in bits.” She glanced at a narrow watch on her wrist. “Oh my goodness, I’d better scurry. I’m sorry to run off and leave you, but Mr. Wilson will be devastated if he doesn’t get to hear the next chapter of Fahrenheit 451.”

  She leaned forward and gave Judd a quick squeeze on the arm, then clamped a hand over her hat and trotted back the way they’d come. She turned and waved. “You can find your way back, can’t you?”

  He nodded and raised a hand. She smiled almost as big as the ocean and hurried on her way. Judd watched her until she was too small to make out. Their short visit had left him feeling unsettled—it was as though she’d reminded him of something he’d rather forget. He shrugged and wandered back to his shoes where he sat down on the sand to wait for Hank. The thrum of the waves, the voices of children, and the enveloping heat left him feeling stupefied, which he preferred to what Larkin had stirred.

  Staring vacantly at his feet, he heard a voice he recognized. “Hey, you old bushwhacker, where you been hiding that girl?”

  Judd lurched to his feet and looked everywhere for his brother. He’d heard Joe’s voice, he was sure of it. His gaze landed on two men slapping each other on the back while a girl in a strapless swimsuit smiled up at them from a blanket. One of the men spoke again, and Judd realized he only sounded a little like Joe. Only just enough to keep the pain of his loss fresh even though he was so very far from home.

  Chapter

  4

  That evening, Larkin bathed and changed into plaid pedal pushers, flats, and an eyelet blouse. She tied her hair back into a ponytail and curled it just so. Then she made sure she left the family’s modern, brick ranch well before her father was expected home. Mother raised her eyebrows as Larkin headed toward the back door.

  “Young lady, you need to do something with that spider plant on the sun porch. If you don’t get your green thumb under control, we’re going to be overrun.”

  Larkin rolled her eyes. “I’ll get to it, I promise.”

  Her mother pinched her lips. “Can I assume you won’t be joining us for supper?”

  “I’ll grab something at Peaches with the girls. Don’t worry about me.”

  Mother shook her head. “Greasy hamburgers and milk shakes.” She straightened Larkin’s cap sleeve. “Fine then, just don’t come home late. You know your father frets.”

  Larkin dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek and grinned before darting out the door. She’d go pick up Nell and then they’d meet Patty at the diner. Patty’s brother Leon was bringing her, probably because he had a big ole crush on Nell, but Larkin planned to stay out of that mess. The top was still down on her 1948 Buick Roadmaster. A graduation present from her father, she adored the seafoam-green car, especially when she could drive it to the beach with the top down. She tied a scarf over her hair and slid into the driver’s seat.

  Twenty minutes later, she and Nell parked near the Pavilion, primped in the rearview mirror, and hurried over to claim three stools at Peaches Corner. Patty joined them not five minutes after they sat down, and Leon hung around like he hoped another seat might open up. Patty finally shooed him away, although Larkin suspected Nell wouldn’t have minded if he stayed.

  As they waited for their food, Larkin looked around, feeling the electricity she always did when she had a chance to get out and dance. There would be handsome boys, great music, a breeze off the ocean, and the wonderful feeling that came with doing something she was good at. Larkin didn’t consider herself particularly vain, but she knew she was an excellent dancer. Sometimes she wished she’d taken ballet lessons or something like that, but she didn’t learn that she could dance until middle school, and by then every
one said it was too late. She bit into the burger a waitress slid across the counter and tried to swallow her impatience along with the food. Nell and Patty would sit and talk forever, and all Larkin wanted to do was dance.

  She tapped a toe and bided her time. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Hank picked up Judd right on time. Although Judd had brushed the sand off his feet, he could still feel a bit of grit inside his shoes. He guessed that was just the way it would be now that he’d made his bed so far south of the mountains he’d known all his life. This new way would take some getting used to, and until he did he guessed there’d be some grit to aggravate him.

  “You ready for a seafood feast?” Hank rubbed his hands together as he pulled into the lot under a sign that read Sea Captain’s House.

  “Sure thing.” Judd was pretty sure he’d never eaten seafood. He’d had plenty of trout, crappie, bream, and bass, but he supposed they’d be eating ocean fish here.

  They pushed through the door, and the smell of fried things assaulted Judd. A waitress wearing a ruffled apron ushered them to a table and offered menus, but Hank waved them away. “Bring us two fisherman’s platters. And I’ll have a beer. Judd?”

  “Iced tea,” he said. He wasn’t opposed to having a beer but wanted to keep his wits about him.

  The waitress disappeared with a smile and nod.

  “So what’d you think of the ocean?”

  Judd leaned back in his chair and wiggled his toes inside his left shoe, trying to dislodge the grains of sand eating into the bottom of his foot. “Impressive.”

  Hank grinned. “Most folks say it’s not as big as they thought it’d be when they first see it.”

  “I guess it’s plenty big enough. Just wish I could get up on a mountain and see it proper.”

  “Son, you have left the mountains behind. We might round you up a molehill or a sand dune. Or you could always shinny up a palmetto and see how it looks from there.”