The Sound of Rain Read online

  “Am I gonna be a gimp?”

  Judd almost smiled but caught himself. “There are worse things, but maybe not.” He glanced at the bone sticking out through a tear in Pete’s pant leg and was surprised to find it less disturbing than before. “Looks like a good, clean break. All you’ll get is a nice long rest in a cool hospital bed with pretty nurses to look after you.”

  Pete grimaced, making his bloodied face look even worse. “You might be lying to me, but I’ll take it.” He closed his eyes.

  Judd began to wind strips of fabric around the arm that might be broken but at least didn’t look it. Then he took stout sticks and tied them into place against Pete’s bent leg. He almost felt used to the odd angle by now, although he heard Mike go over and throw up in a pile of cut branches. He looked back at Pete and supposed he’d gone on and passed out. Which was best.

  They finally got the injured man loaded on the stretcher and hauled him to Hank’s truck where they’d made a sort of pallet in the bed.

  “The two of us can ride back here with him,” Chuck said, climbing in.

  Judd struggled a little with his bum leg, yet he managed to hop in, as well. They sat on either side of Pete’s head, and Judd pressed a fresh handkerchief to the injured man’s temple. The bleeding had slowed, thank goodness, and Pete slipped in and out of consciousness. Judd tried to enjoy the breeze as they drove, slow and careful, to the hospital. He wondered if it really was worse to die beneath the ground than above it.

  Larkin was just about to leave when she saw Hank Chapin’s truck pull up to the emergency entrance. Her earlier weariness evaporated as she hurried over, afraid something had happened to Hank. She was relieved to see him hop out of the driver’s side and hurry around to the back. She craned her neck to see where he was headed, and Judd’s face popped into her mind’s eye. It was easy to get hurt logging and he was so new . . .

  Hank saw Larkin and waved her over. “Hey gal, can you let ’em know we got a man here with a real bad leg break and a knock on the head?”

  Larkin peeked at the men climbing down from the bed and saw that one was Judd. He saw her and nodded without looking the least bit pleased. But of course he was concerned about the hurt man. Larkin rushed through the doors and waved orderlies out with a gurney. She saw blood as they transferred an injured man over. He groaned and his color was ashy. Larkin didn’t recognize him, but then she only knew a few of the foremen and supervisors. She trailed after the group as they took the man inside the hospital.

  Bringing up the rear, Larkin saw a shiver run through Judd as he hit the mechanically cooled air inside the building. She enjoyed air conditioning at home but felt certain Judd’s room at the boardinghouse wouldn’t have it. She was still wearing her pinafore, but pulled her striped cap out of her bag and pinned it back on as she caught up to her father’s new hire.

  “Is it bad?” She laid a hand on Judd’s arm and kept her voice low.

  He looked surprised to see her. “I forgot you worked at the hospital.”

  She bristled. “I volunteer—you know, helping people.”

  He almost smiled. “That’s right, you’re going to change the world.” He sounded more impressed than mocking, and she relaxed a little.

  “So, the man you brought in?”

  Judd pursed his lips and ran a hand over his short hair. Larkin had the notion it would curl if he’d let it grow. “He’s tore up, but he’ll live. Leg’s broke pretty bad, maybe his arm, too.”

  “And his head injury?”

  This time Judd did grin. “His head’s pretty hard. Probably what kept him from getting hurt worse.”

  “You got that right.” The other man from the back of the truck stepped over and clasped Judd’s shoulder. Larkin knew she’d seen him before but couldn’t place him. “Chuck Hardee, ma’am. We met last Christmas.”

  Larkin smiled and nodded. “Of course, I remember. You and your lovely wife were at the company party. How is she?”

  “Sassy as ever. I’ll let her know you asked after her.”

  Hank joined the group. “They’re pokin’ and proddin’ him back there. Doc says they may have to operate on that leg. Says whoever stabilized it did ole Pete a favor. If the bone had shifted around, could have done a whole lot more damage.”

  Chuck slapped Judd on the back. “This boy knows how to fix more than motors. He’s the one clumb in there and trussed Pete up like a Christmas turkey. Son, I don’t suppose you could teach my wife to cook?”

  Judd grinned and ducked his head. “My ma made sure all us boys could cook before she died. Said we might be too ornery to catch wives, so she figured we’d better be able to feed ourselves.”

  Larkin found her annoyance with the lanky mountain man waning. It would appear he’d already made quite an impression on the lumbermen. Maybe the conversation she’d shared with him had happened on an off day. He’d only just arrived and was probably feeling out of sorts. Plus his mother was dead. She decided to forgive him.

  “You have brothers?” she asked.

  The light in Judd’s eyes dimmed. “One brother.”

  “Oh, the way you said . . .” Something in his face made her trail off. Now he looked mad again. “Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll see if the nurse has any news I can share with you.” She spun on her heel and stalked off.

  Judd Markley was an enigma, and she didn’t have the time or the inclination to unravel him.

  Chapter

  7

  Judd watched Larkin stomp off and felt bad about snapping at her. She had no way of knowing she’d put her foot smack-dab in the middle of the biggest regret of his life. He joined the other two men seated in orange plastic chairs that looked like they might throw a man to the floor if he dozed off. He sat as though the weight of that felled tree were on his shoulders. Joe didn’t even make it as far as the hospital. Here he was being celebrated for binding the leg of a man he was pretty sure didn’t like him, when he’d failed his own kin completely. He drew cool air in through his nose and wondered if this artificial air might hurt him. He halfway hoped it would.

  Hank stood. “Fellas, it’s getting along about suppertime. What say I drop Judd off at the boardinghouse on the way back to get Chuck’s car?”

  Chuck nodded and stood, seeming eager to be on his way home to that wife who couldn’t cook. Judd had seen the affection in the other man’s eyes. He suspected she had other positive attributes.

  “You comin’ back here?” Chuck asked.

  “Soon as I get a bite to eat. I’ll call Mr. Heyward and fill him in. We ought to have some sort of emergency contact for Pete back at the office. He married?”

  Chuck shrugged. “Pete never did warm up to anybody much. Tight-lipped.”

  Judd leaned his elbows on his knees and noticed a sorry-looking peace lily in the corner of the room. It was near about dead, except for some green shoots in the middle and one brave bloom that almost floated over the pot. “I don’t mind waiting here till you get back. It can be awful lonesome in a hospital.”

  “If they do surgery, he won’t know whether he’s alone or not for a good while, but if you want to stay you’re welcome to it.” Hank considered Judd and added, “I’m sure Pete will appreciate it.”

  Judd didn’t know what Pete would think, he just knew he’d been glad to have Harry with him when he woke up in that hospital bed. And he didn’t exactly have a full social schedule.

  The other men left, and Judd sat staring at the floor some more. There were magazines on an end table, but none of them held any interest. He stood and stretched. His leg ached from working all week, and sitting in one position too long made it worse. He walked over to a coffeepot and poured himself a cup. He carried the burnt-smelling liquid to the window and stared out. It was still a long time until sunset, but it seemed like the day had stretched on longer than it should. He rubbed his jaw and felt the beginnings of stubble. Tomorrow was Saturday—maybe he’d go until Monday morning before he shaved. Didn’t have anyone to
clean up for.

  “Would you like a sandwich?”

  Judd spun around and found Larkin standing behind him with a little cart. She had a tray of sandwiches, some cups of fruit, and a plate of cookies. “Sometimes we bring refreshments out if folks have to wait a while.”

  Judd’s stomach gurgled. It had been a long time since lunch. “Well, seeing as how my belly’s gnawing at my backbone, seems like a sandwich wouldn’t go amiss.”

  Laughter sparked in Larkin’s eyes, but she seemed determined to fight it back. “Would you like ham and cheese or egg salad?”

  “Ham would be fine.”

  She handed him a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. He sat and peeled the paper back, biting into a triangle of bread and meat. It wasn’t half bad, although a summer tomato would go a long way to brightening it up.

  “Fruit cup?”

  “Sure thing.” Judd accepted the cup and set it down on a side table. “You gonna join me?”

  Larkin pinked. “We’re not supposed to . . .”

  “Nobody else around and you sure do have a pile of sandwiches there. Shame to let ’em go to waste.”

  Larkin glanced around, sighed, and plopped down next to him with a sandwich in her hand. “Nurse Enright will have a conniption if she sees me, but oh well.” She picked at the paper around her sandwich. “Is Hank coming back?”

  “Yes. He took Chuck back to get his car.”

  “And you stayed?”

  Judd chewed on a bite of sandwich, thinking whether that required a response.

  “I was in the hospital a spell with a busted leg. Shame to leave somebody on their own.”

  Larkin nodded. “The doctor’s operating on your friend’s leg now. He may not wake up fully for a few hours yet.”

  Judd nodded. “Them cookies up for grabs?”

  Larkin laughed softly. “Oatmeal—I made them myself.” She finally took a bite of her egg-salad sandwich and wrinkled her nose. “Hospital food will keep you from going hungry, but I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it.”

  Judd laughed and it felt good. As a matter of fact, it was the first time he could remember feeling this sort of lightness around his heart since before Joe died. There was a night, a few days before the cave-in, when Joe came over and they sat up playing cards and telling lies until Abram told them to either go to bed or take it outside. They’d gone out on the porch, where Joe produced a jar of moonshine. They’d sipped and talked softly until the wee hours. Joe had been spinning dreams about how he was going to see the world. He wanted to start by seeing the ocean and then maybe he’d sail right on across it. After that he’d get a girl—maybe in France or Spain—and after they had some fun, he supposed he might marry her and have some kids.

  For the first time, the sorrow of thinking about Joe failed to outweigh the sweet. Judd had made it as far as the ocean for his baby brother, and while he didn’t know that he was going to sail on across it, he had met a girl. Judd looked at Larkin and debated telling her about Joe.

  Before he could speak, she stood and dropped her sandwich on a lower shelf of the cart. “I’d better get moving. I told Daddy I’d be home in time for supper.”

  She started away, then backed up and handed Judd the plate of cookies. “For you and Hank when he gets back. Pete might even want one later on.” She smiled, and it occurred to Judd that she was just about the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. “You can return the plate next time you see me.”

  He watched her walk away, the sash on her dress tied in a bow around her narrow waist. He bit into another cookie. She was the boss’s daughter. He’d best get his mind right and focus on other things.

  Judd got back to his room Friday night in time to take a quick shower, and now he was lying on his bed trying to sleep, sweating again. He’d seen one of the other lodgers with a fan in his window—with his first paycheck in his pocket, he thought he might go out and buy one.

  He’d had a chance to speak to Pete before he left. The logger had thanked him and even got blubbery about it. Judd chalked it up to the medicine he was taking. Pete’s effusiveness almost made him wish he’d left earlier.

  Judd rolled over and tried to find a cool spot on his pillow. He could smell the ocean and imagined he could hear the surf. It wasn’t exactly the sighing of wind in tall pines, but it was soothing nonetheless. What the heck. Maybe he’d go see ole Pete again on Saturday. He didn’t have much else to do.

  Buying a fan and visiting a more sober, grumpier Pete carried Judd through lunch on Saturday, at which point he felt at a loss for what to do next. It was Labor Day weekend and Myrtle Beach was teeming with tourists in their shorts and bathing suits. It was like the whole town was desperate to have some fun before summer ended. Wiping sweat from his forehead as he got off a sweltering bus, Judd wondered if summer ever really ended around here. He dropped his fan off in his room and decided to walk down to the beach. His leg hurt and sometimes exercise helped.

  Without meaning to, Judd found himself at the Pavilion. There was a crowd there already, dancing, drinking sodas, eating popcorn, and nursing sunburns. After circling the building twice, Judd finally realized he was looking for Larkin. Which was ridiculous. He headed for the surf, tucked his hands in his pockets, and started walking. Next thing he knew, he was at the pier they’d visited his first day in town. Hard to believe he’d been here just over a week now. West Virginia seemed farther away every day.

  “Hey there, Judd. You look like a proper man of leisure.”

  Judd turned to see Chuck leaning against the railing with a fishing line in the water.

  “Told my wife I was gonna go see Pete. And I did, but he was sleeping. Figured it’d be a waste to come all this way for nothing.” He indicated his pole with a jerk of his chin. “Care to wet a line?”

  “Don’t have any tackle.”

  “I got a spare here.” Chuck indicated a rod lying at his feet. “Be right glad if you joined me.”

  Judd picked up the rod, pulled some bait from a bucket next to it, and flipped the line out into the water. “What’re we after?”

  “Oh, snapper, grouper, sea bass—flounder’d be nice. I ain’t particular.”

  “Is there a trick to it?”

  Chuck glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Wait.”

  Judd grinned. “Now there’s a trick I’m familiar with.”

  They stood in silence for a time, the rhythm of the waves, beating sun, and voices of tourists lulling Judd into a sort of meditative state.

  “I hear Miss Larkin visited with you a spell yesterday evening.”

  Judd jerked his line even though there was nothing on it. He glanced at Chuck feeling like he’d just awakened from a nap. “She brought me a sandwich.” Seemed like the gossips were just as busy in Myrtle Beach as they had been back in Bethel.

  Chuck reeled his line in and replaced his waterlogged bait. “She’s a right purty girl.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “Just so you know, Mr. Heyward doesn’t much hold with the workers fraternizing with his daughter. Hank gets away with it some, but there’s not much gets by the old man.”

  Judd felt his stubborn rear up, but decided he didn’t care to light a fire under anybody just then. “I’ll remember that.”

  “You’re a good fella and a better mechanic. If I had a daughter, I’d be steering her your way pretty hard.” He looked at Judd and wrinkled his brow. “Say, you don’t have a girl back in them hills, do you?”

  “I do not.”

  Chuck nodded. “Well, just thought you should know. About Larkin.”

  Judd felt a nibble on his line, waited a moment, and set the hook sharp. Chuck whooped as Judd started reeling something in that felt pretty big.

  “By golly, you got a flounder. We’re gonna eat good tonight. Reel her on in and I’ll get her in the cooler.”

  Judd watched the flat fish sparkle in the sun as it rose from the sea and was almighty grateful for its distraction. Fish out of water, in
deed.

  Chapter

  8

  Larkin hadn’t seen Judd for two weeks, but she couldn’t stop thinking about West Virginia and how she could be a help to those poor children living in the backwoods of Appalachia. Never mind the way Judd’s blue-gray eyes and dark hair kept coming to mind, as well. The way he would almost smile, like he was secretly amused but didn’t want to let on. She straightened her pinafore and carried a fresh pitcher of water to Lill’s room. She’d learned that Lill’s cancer was in her bones. Her outlook wasn’t good, but the woman was so perpetually cheerful, Larkin couldn’t resist her in spite of the heartbreak she sensed in the offing.

  “How are you feeling today, Lill?”

  “Larkin, aren’t you looking lovely? Might there be a young man who’s caught your eye?”

  Larkin noticed that Lill didn’t answer her question. Veins showed through her pale skin, and her cheekbones were more pronounced than ever, but she smiled all the same.

  “How about I find you some ice cream?” Larkin wanted to give her new friend pleasure one way or another.

  Lill shook her head and waved at a chair near her bed. “Can’t hardly taste anything anymore, and I’d a whole lot rather you sat down here and talked to me. Everyone’s in such a hurry—the doctors, the nurses. I understand they have pressing matters to tend to, but sometimes I wish they’d just stop and look at me a minute.”

  Larkin set her pitcher down and pulled the chair closer, taking Lill’s thin, dark-veined hand. “I’m in no hurry.”

  “Is that so? I’m glad. Seems like I was always rushing after something and now I can’t think what it was.”

  “Were you ever in love?” Larkin was embarrassed as soon as she blurted the question. Surely it was too personal. But Lill didn’t seem to mind.

  “I thought I was once. He was such a pretty man—fine hands, and he played the piano beautifully. He charmed my mother right down to her toes. I think she was more disappointed than I was when he started traveling to play music.”

  “What happened to him?”