The Sound of Rain Read online

  Lill shrugged, her thin shoulder brushing against her hospital gown. “He said he was going to New York. Then I got a letter saying he was headed for California. That’s the last I ever heard from him.”

  “He just didn’t come back? Didn’t write?” Larkin thought about Ben and how devastating it was for him to suddenly be absent from her life.

  Lill pressed her fingertips together and then flung them wide. “Gone. Just like a puff of air. Sometimes I think I imagined him. And now that Mother is gone it feels that way more than ever.”

  As Lill finished speaking, Larkin noticed her skin looked ashy, and beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. She closed her eyes and her lips moved without making a sound.

  “Are you alright?”

  Lill opened her eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I am, but I’m not going to die right this minute.” She offered up a brave smile and reached out to stroke Larkin’s ponytail where it fell over her shoulder. “Feels like corn silk. And such a pretty color with that copper in it. My sister Althea wanted yellow hair. Probably would have looked good on her, too.”

  Larkin grinned. “How many of you were there?”

  “Just us two girls and Mother. Our father was long gone by the time I was old enough to talk.” Her smile slipped. “I’m the last one left to tell the tale. Mother died—probably of cancer, but she refused to see a doctor. And Thea was hit by a car when I was just a teenager. She was walking to work.”

  Larkin started to ask for more details but sensed that was all Lill had to say on the subject. She smiled and straightened Lill’s coverlet. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Larkin tiptoed out of the room, satisfaction and sorrow swirling through her in equal parts. It was good to sit and talk with Lill—to let her know she was seen and heard. But while Larkin might have a knack for reviving the plant in the waiting room, she was afraid Lill was another matter entirely.

  Judd felt like he was getting the hang of being a mechanic for Waccamaw Timber Company. He didn’t even mind the heat as much as he did at first, although he was pretty sure he’d never come to appreciate how flat the land was. And homesickness still punched him in the gut from time to time. He’d even had the terrible thought that Joe might not have been too smart to want to come south, but he shook that off. If Joe couldn’t live his dream, Judd would do it for him. He owed his brother that much.

  He’d gotten into the habit of visiting Pete of an evening now that he was home from the hospital. Turned out he had a sweet, quiet wife, but no children. Judd had a notion it was a hardship to them both that they were still childless after several years of marriage. He wouldn’t exactly say Pete had warmed up to him, but he was glad to have someone to play cards with and always asked about what was happening at work. Judd considered his visits a sort of penance, although he didn’t waste a lot of time considering what all he needed penance for.

  He liked walking down to the beach now that it was quiet and empty. The tourists went home after Labor Day, and the locals didn’t venture down there much, so he could appreciate the absence of people up against that throbbing ocean. The Pavilion was closed, so there was no chance of running into pretty girls out for a night of dancing. Especially not running into a pretty girl with a ponytail and eyes that reflected the sea. Nope, not at all. Judd’s life had settled into a routine he could manage, and he might even go for half a day without thinking about Joe or the mountains back home or how much he missed the sound of a creek tumbling over rocks on its way to the valley below.

  So when word came that Mr. Heyward wanted to meet with Judd after work on a Tuesday evening, Judd felt a little uneasy. If the mine owner ever met with someone back home, it was usually bad news. Maybe things were different in the South. He hoped so.

  Mr. Heyward reclined in his leather desk chair, gazing out the window at a cloudless blue sky. This late in September there was an occasional hint of cooler air, but Judd had learned to appreciate the air conditioning.

  “You asked to see me, sir?”

  Mr. Heyward spun around and faced him. “I did. I’ve been hearing good things about you. I even hear you’ve been teaching some of the boys out there on the job how to do what you do. You planning on leaving?”

  Judd schooled his expression. He had no idea where this was going. “No, sir. Just seemed like it’d be good for someone else to know.”

  “Right you are.” The older man slapped his hand down on the desk and then waved Judd into a seat. “I have a matter to discuss with you.”

  Questions percolated through Judd’s mind, but he kept quiet.

  “The state forestry commission has been after me to partner with them in preserving woodlands.” Mr. Heyward squinted and scratched his chin. “’Course I’m mainly interested in harvesting woodlands, but I’m not opposed to playing along with the state boys if it makes things easier in the long run.”

  Judd nodded and tried to relax. Wherever this was headed, he didn’t seem to be in trouble.

  “Have you seen this L’il Smokey nonsense?”

  Mr. Heyward pushed a sheet of paper across his desk, and Judd leaned forward to pick it up. There was a drawing of a bear in a hat and britches showing a pine seedling to two little cubs. It read, Smokey says, “Protect little trees to keep our nation strong.” He laid the paper back on the desk.

  “Can’t say as I’m familiar with that.”

  Mr. Heyward drew the paper closer and peered at it. “Nonsense, mostly. But it is good to try and keep idiots from burning all the trees down. They think that Bombing Range fire back in June got started when some fool threw out a cigarette. Burned more than ten thousand acres before they got it under control.” He looked wistful. “Could’ve gotten a whole lot of pulpwood out of that stand.”

  Judd paid close attention. He figured if he hung in, things would become clear.

  “At any rate, Carlton Hunter wants me to send him someone who can learn all there is to know about timber management. Then that someone can come on back and teach the boys in the company how to be responsible timbermen.” He grinned. “There’s even a chance whoever I send might learn something worth knowing.”

  Judd began to have a notion where this was headed. He made some encouraging sounds to keep the one-sided conversation going.

  “So what I’m thinking is, if you’re willing, I’ll make you our liaison to the forest service. You spend three days a week over there learning whatever they want to teach you, and the other two days you come back to catch up on anything that needs fixing and share your newly acquired knowledge with the boys.” He squinted at Judd. “What do you say?”

  Judd took a breath and rubbed his chin where he could feel the day’s bristle sprouting. “Well now. Sounds interesting.”

  George Heyward leaned back in his chair and laced his hands across his rounded paunch. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  Judd was surprised, since he hadn’t finished thinking it himself. “What’s that?”

  “You’re wondering how this will affect your bottom line.” He leaned forward and braced both hands on the desk. “What if it meant a ten percent raise in your pay?”

  Judd raised his eyebrows by at least ten percent. This required less thinking. “Then I’d be proud to go learn what Carlton Hunter wants me to know.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Heyward clapped his hands and stood. “Come to dinner at the house tomorrow evening around seven o’clock and I’ll introduce you to Carlton.”

  Judd rose to his feet and took the other man’s outstretched hand. His clasp was warm and firm and his smile was genuine. All of a sudden, Judd found he liked George Heyward. And it had nothing to do with an increase in pay. Maybe he’d done the right thing coming south, after all. Joe would be proud.

  Chapter

  9

  Larkin hated it when her father had business associates over for dinner. The conversation would be all about timber and the price of pulpwood and the state of the economy.
Her mother would fuss over the food and tell Larkin to mind her manners—as if she were a child. Once in a while there’d be a wife along and they could talk about something a little more interesting, but Larkin didn’t hold out much hope.

  Digging in her closet, she pulled out a sleeveless blue-and-white-striped dress with decorative buttons down the bodice and a big bow at the waist. She didn’t wear it often because the bow was bothersome, but it’d be fine for this evening. Hopefully dinner wouldn’t last too long and she could change early.

  “Larkin, can you come help me with the table setting?”

  “Coming, Mother.”

  She slipped into the dress and quickly tied the ridiculous bow. It wasn’t quite right, but it would have to do. She quickly refastened her ponytail, dabbed on some Stormy Pink lipstick—what a name—and hurried downstairs. Once there, she mostly agreed with her mother every time she asked if something looked all right. The flowers on the table, the candles, the napkins, the pound cake on the sideboard—actually, that looked particularly delicious. Larkin noted that there were five places set, so maybe there would be a wife coming, as well.

  “It’s all lovely, Mother. Daddy can’t help but be pleased.” She plucked a sprig of bougainvillea from where it had fallen on the cloth and tucked it in her palm to dispose of in the kitchen.

  “Augusta, we’ve arrived.”

  Larkin’s mother jumped and smoothed her skirt. She spied the bow at Larkin’s waist, made a face, and quickly retied it before hurrying out to greet her husband and his guests. Larkin trailed after her, trying not to look as bored as she felt.

  Sultry air billowed in with the guests standing at the bottom of the wide staircase. Larkin shifted a bit so she could get a better look around her mother, who was kissing her father on the cheek and holding her hand out to the first of . . . two men. She vaguely remembered the gentleman greeting her mother—she thought he worked with the forest service. Then the second man stepped forward to take her mother’s hand and Larkin almost choked. It was Judd. What in the world? Her father never had the working men to the house.

  She had a sudden notion that Judd was secretly a coal titan who had posed as a common worker to learn about her father’s company from the inside. And now, duly impressed with the inner workings, he was prepared to become a partner with Waccamaw Timber Company. Which, she realized, would explain his reluctance to offer to help her educate the children of Appalachia. And it would make him an appropriate suitor. She squashed that second thought and fiddled with her bow. Oh, why hadn’t she worn the pink organdy?

  “Carlton Hunter, this is my daughter, Larkin. Judd, I believe you’ve already met.”

  Larkin held out her hand to the older man and smiled. She looked at Judd from beneath her lashes. “We have met. Judd was most kind in caring for a member of his crew who was injured and had to be carried to the hospital.”

  Judd nodded and flushed but didn’t speak. He tucked his hands behind his back, denying Larkin a handshake. She decided that was just like him and hooked a hand through his elbow mostly to see if she could get a rise out of him.

  “Let me show you to the dining room.”

  She motioned with her left hand and realized she still had the flower tucked away there. Judd noticed it and plucked it from her grasp before she could think what he was doing. He stuck it in a pocket with a grin. Blushing, Larkin thought she saw her father smile, which was odd. Her mother escorted Carlton into the dining room, and they all took their seats except for Larkin, who slipped into the kitchen to pick up a cut-glass pitcher of iced tea.

  Reentering the room, Larkin thought her father looked thoughtful and Judd looked uncomfortable. Men. Who could fathom them? She began filling glasses, starting with her mother. Judd rubbed his palms against his pressed slacks as she poured amber liquid into his glass. Was he nervous? Finished, she settled the pitcher on the sideboard and took her seat.

  “Bow your heads.”

  Larkin’s father asked for God’s blessing on the timber company and all the men it employed. Then he asked for good weather, improving markets, and several other things before finally blessing the food. Larkin snuck a peek at Judd and found him obedient in prayer. Finally, it was over and they all said “Amen.”

  Daddy lifted the platter of fried chicken and offered it first to his wife and then to Larkin, who passed it to Carlton. Judd helped himself to a thigh, started to reach for a second piece, then seemed to think twice about it. Creamed potatoes, fried okra, and sliced tomatoes made the rounds, along with a basket of angel biscuits. Judd took moderate amounts of everything, although he looked a little skeptical about the okra. Larkin hid her amusement.

  “Carlton, I think you’ll find Judd to be a fine addition to your team,” her father said at last.

  “I hear you’re a solid mechanic,” Carlton said to Judd.

  “I always liked tinkering with machines. Have ever since I was a boy.”

  “Well, as eager as I am to teach you about timber management, I might also have some tinkering you could do.”

  “That’d be fine,” Judd said, taking what looked to Larkin like a cautious bite of okra. He chewed and gave the tiniest nod.

  “Do you like the okra?” Larkin asked him.

  He looked at the food on his plate. “I like most anything that’s fried.” He speared a few more pieces and ate them. “This is mighty fine.”

  Her mother dimpled. “Why, thank you. I know you work hard all day, so don’t hold back. There’s plenty.”

  Judd nodded and seemed torn between picking up his chicken and cutting into it. Larkin daintily lifted a chicken leg to her lips and smiled at him. He relaxed and took a big bite.

  “So you’re going to be Daddy’s liaison to the forest service?” she asked.

  Judd swallowed. “Looks that way.”

  Carlton stepped back into the conversation. “We’ve been after your father to send us a man for years. Guess he had to wait and ship one in from up north.”

  “West Virginia isn’t exactly the north,” Larkin said, hoping Judd hadn’t been offended. “Most of the state is below the Mason-Dixon Line.”

  “Well, we’ll be glad to teach this mountain man our Lowcountry ways. You spend much time working in timber up there in West Virginia?”

  Judd settled his fork on his plate. “We cut wood for the stove, and there’s a sawmill over in Evergreen, but nothing like what goes on around here. Those mountains make it a mite harder to haul the wood out all at once.”

  Daddy nodded. “And now Carlton wants us to do more of this selection cutting. Best I can tell it’s about making more work and less money.”

  “Now, George. It’s about preserving forests for future generations. You want your grandchildren to enjoy the beautiful pine plantations of South Carolina, don’t you?”

  Daddy cut his eyes at Larkin, then Judd. “My grandchildren will do just fine. And there are more than enough trees to go around. So long as idiots stop setting fire to them.” He patted his lips with his napkin. “Now, this forest fire prevention business makes sense to me.”

  “Say, maybe you could sponsor a Smokey Bear costume.”

  “A what?” Daddy wasn’t one to brook silliness.

  “The L’il Smokey campaign. They’re developing a costume for a man to wear so he can go to schools and fairs and things like that to tell people how they can prevent fires. If you sponsor it, we’d put the name of your company right there on all the posters.”

  Larkin watched the wheels turn in her father’s head. He did enjoy publicity.

  “Well now, that is something we might could discuss further.” He pushed back from the table a notch. “A fine meal, Augusta. I think we’ll enjoy coffee and dessert in the den.”

  He stood and motioned the other two men to follow him. Larkin saw Judd look at the platter of fried chicken with longing. She ducked her head to hide her smile.

  “I’ll bring a tray in shortly, Daddy.”

  Her father patted her on the should
er as the men left the room. So much for Judd being a coal titan. He was more like a pawn in her father’s latest game of chess.

  Judd lay on his bed that night, fan stirring the heavy air that wasn’t quite as thick as when he first arrived in August. He laughed softly. He thought George Heyward might have noticed how friendly Larkin had been, although he hadn’t put as much distance between the two of them as Judd would have expected. He figured Mr. Heyward was the sort to think Judd was good enough to keep the forestry commission happy but not good enough to try to do the same for his daughter. He rolled over to look at the exotic purple flower he’d stuck in a jelly jar with some water when he got back to his room. When he’d seen it there in Larkin’s hand as she greeted her guests, he almost laughed out loud. Clearly, she’d forgotten she had it, and the oversight set him at ease immediately. He’d only been thinking to help when he’d taken it from her, but now, seeing it there on his bedside table, he felt a tenderness he couldn’t quite account for.

  And the way she’d eased him through dinner—making sure he didn’t make a fool of himself with that okra or the way he ate. He used to be the one looking after Joe like that—keeping him out of trouble and smoothing his way.

  Sighing, Judd rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Although he hadn’t seriously considered courting Larkin Heyward, he had wondered if being invited to her father’s house might make it possible. But how could it? He was just a working man who happened to fit a particular need. He picked up the jelly jar and set it in the window, next to the fan. It almost glowed in the streetlight from outside.

  Judd marveled at how people tolerated having lights on around them all the time. He hadn’t been properly in the dark since he’d arrived. He would have expected it to bother him, but then again, it was a relief to close his eyes and still be able to see light through his eyelids. Not like in the mine. Not like the day his brother died. That day he’d been utterly blind even with his eyes wide open.

  Looking through the glistening jar, Judd could see the stem of the flower there. He looked again and swore he could see roots beginning to sprout—fine little hairs swaying in the water. Huh. If it kept going maybe he’d get a pot and some dirt and see if he couldn’t make it grow.