Читать книгу A Dry Creek Courtship - Janet Tronstad - Страница 9

Charley Nelson sat with his empty coffee cup in one hand. A checkerboard was laid out on the table to the right of his chair. If he looked past the woodstove, he could see through the windows of the hardware store and out to the street. He’d been looking through those windows for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Elmer Maynard to finish talking about the paint job he planned for his old white Cadillac.

Before Elmer had started talking, Charley had set up the board so they could play. Then he’d gotten a fresh, hot cup of coffee. Elmer didn’t even seem to notice the board, he was so busy debating the virtues of midnight blue and ocean blue when applied to a car. Charley was amazed a man could have so many opinions about the different shades of blue yet never have any strategy when it came to a simple game of checkers.

Between the stillness out the window and the drone of Elmer’s voice, Charley was almost dozing when he heard a sound in the distance. At first, he couldn’t really make out the sound, but as it got louder he placed it quickly. It woke him right up. “What’s that woman doing?”

Charley set his coffee cup down on the table and looked around him with a scowl. The hardware store was having a sale on nails so there were a dozen men leaning against the counter, wanting to make purchases. “I thought we all agreed no one was going to jump start that battery for Mrs. Hargrove.”

Not a man dared lift his gaze to Charley and that included the salesman who was just there to bring in a new display case of shovels. He didn’t even know Mrs. Hargrove.

Finally, Elmer jutted out his chin and said. “We didn’t agree. You told us what you wanted, but that didn’t mean we agreed with you.”

“Yeah,” a couple of the men said.

“Well, you should have enough sense to agree. All of you.” Charley stared down each of the men who dared to meet his gaze. He knew Edith could make most of them do anything she wanted if she put on her Sunday-school-teacher voice. But he thought he’d impressed upon them the need to stop her from driving that beat-up old car. The thing barely ran. It was a break-down waiting to happen.

There was another moment’s silence, broken only by the crackling of the wood in the stove.

“I’m the one who jump-started the battery for her,” Pastor Matthew finally said from where he stood behind the counter. He’d been going over the catalogue to fill out the order form for new nails. “It seemed the Christian thing to do when she asked.”

Charley’s face got red but he figured he couldn’t very well tell the pastor to stop acting like a Christian. Everyone knew it was his job to do things like that. Trust Edith to pick the one man in town who Charley couldn’t easily scold.

“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not a good idea at all,” Charley muttered.

“She’s not a bad driver,” Elmer said. “For a woman, that is.”

“She’s an excellent driver,” Charley snapped back. “That’s never been the problem. It’s that car. It should have been chopped up into scrap metal years ago. The muffler is almost worn out and those windshield wipers are about to fall off.”

“Well, then you should fix it up for her, if you’re so worried,” Elmer said.

“It would take more money to fix that car than to buy you a new Cadillac,” Charley said, even though he knew it wasn’t strictly true. Still, it was foolish to fix up that eyesore when it would cost less to buy a reasonable used car that a dignified woman like Edith would be proud to drive.

“She’s awfully fond of that car,” the pastor said from the counter. “It seems it was the last car Harold bought before he died. Memories, you know.”

Charley grunted. He didn’t like to speak ill of the dead, but he couldn’t help it. “That man never could pick a car that was worth anything. I can’t understand why she’d want to keep a rattletrap around to remind her of Harold’s poor judgment when it came to cars. He always planted his wheat too early, too, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Well, if you’re so set on her having a new car,” Elmer said as he hooked his thumbs on his suspenders, “why don’t you just sic that nephew of yours on her? It’s Conrad, isn’t it? You told me he’s adding a used car lot to that garage of his and I drove by the other day when I was in Miles City. Let him sell her something.”

“She might not be able to afford a new car,” the pastor cautioned.

“The ad in front of Conrad’s shop said they never turn anyone away,” Elmer said. “So money should be no-o-o problem.”

“He got that sign from another car lot that had gone out of business,” Charley said. “Conrad doesn’t want to put much money into signs before he knows if he’ll get any customers.”

“Well, he shouldn’t put up a sign if he doesn’t mean it,” Elmer said. “That’s the worst thing he can do for business. Besides, selling something to Mrs. Hargrove would be business so I’d think he’d hop right on it. Everyone in the county will notice if she’s driving a new car. A good word from her could bring him more customers than he’ll know what to do with.”

Charley reached over to get his empty coffee cup and then stood up. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to talk to him.” He walked over to the counter and set the cup down. “Conrad has to prove himself a salesman someday. If he can sell a car to Edith, he can sell a car to anyone.”

The pastor looked up from his order form and nodded at Charley. “That woman knows her mind, all right. She won’t be easy to convince if she doesn’t want to be.”

“Some women get a new car just because they like the color,” Elmer said. “Remind your nephew to talk about color with her. The blues are always popular. Tell him to say it’ll match her eyes.”

“Edith’s eyes are green,” Charley said as he started walking to the door.

“Hey,” Elmer called out, “we haven’t had our game yet. Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back,” Charley said. “I just need to check up on that car.”

Charley stood on the porch of the hardware store and looked down the road. He could see Edith’s mustard-colored car in the distance, billowing out enough smoke to show that it was still moving. He shook his head as he walked over to his pickup. It wasn’t easy to talk sense to a stubborn woman, but he had to try.

Edith stopped her car at the point in the road near where the coulee started to dip. Autumn came fast and furious to this part of Montana. When she got out of the car, she looked in all directions and could see the brown patches of grass that had already turned for the year. Farther out, she could see the Big Sheep Mountains.

Edith made sure her socks were pulled up as high as they could go before she took her bucket and started to the edge of the coulee. The ground sloped down gradually and she had to be careful not to slide.

She wasn’t more than eight feet down the slope when she heard the sound of a vehicle stopping on the road above. She supposed it was one of the hands at the Elkton Ranch making sure she was all right. Everyone in the whole county knew her car so they wouldn’t be wondering who was walking down in the coulee; they’d just be stopping to make sure she was okay.

“I’m fine,” Edith called out. She was far enough down in the coulee that she couldn’t see who it was that had parked. “Just going to pick some chokecherries.”

“Well, that’s a fool thing to be doing.”

Edith didn’t need to see the man to know that it was Charley up there. She hadn’t seen him for two days, she thought in annoyance, and he decided now was the time to talk to her. Her daughter hadn’t put the pins back in Edith’s bun securely and she could feel her hair starting to pull loose. Even with the hat on her head, a person could still see her sagging hair. She probably looked frightful. Plus, the hat was yellow and she always had thought it made her face look a little green.

“You don’t need to come down,” Edith called back. The best thing would be if Charley just went away. Then she wouldn’t need to worry about how she looked. “I’m doing fine.”

She didn’t know why she was suddenly worried about how she looked when it was only Charley. He knew she was a plain-featured woman with work lines on her face. He’d probably seen every one of her gardening hats over the years.

Charley stood at the top of the coulee and saw Edith slowly walking down. He could kick himself. He’d completely forgotten about picking the chokecherries. His mind had been on that old car of hers. He should have remembered she’d need those berries to make her harvest-dinner jelly.

“I’ll be right there,” Charley said as he started down the coulee. Edith was holding herself stiff and he wondered if her arthritis was acting up. “You don’t need to be climbing down no coulees.”

“I can certainly pick a few chokecherries,” Edith said. “Just because I haven’t done it for a few years doesn’t mean I can’t.”

Charley noticed the woman didn’t even turn around to face him. That didn’t bode well.

“I’m sorry I forgot.” Charley kept right on going down the side of the coulee, sidestepping instead of walking straight to keep his balance. “I can get the berries now though. Just give me a few minutes.”

Charley caught up with Edith as she reached the chokecherry bushes. They were gnarled and rooted deep in the sandy soil with nothing but thistles to keep them company. Those bushes had been there for decades and each year they were red with chokecherries until the birds from Canada started picking the berries off as they flew south.

There were no red berries in sight.

“They’re all gone,” Charley said. The birds had already been here. The bushes were picked clean. “I’m sorry. Maybe there’s some left over on that hill by the Morgan farm.”

Those berries were never as plump and Charley knew that, but he saw no reason to remind Edith of that fact.

“It’s all right,” Edith said. “I can get by without chokecherry jelly.”

Charley noticed that she still hadn’t looked at him. “But you always make chokecherry jelly.”

“Only because there’s no peaches around.”

“I’ll get you some chokecherries. Don’t worry,” he vowed.

Edith finally turned to him. The brim of her floppy garden hat kept her face in shadow, but Charley could see the stiff curve of her lips as she gave him what would pass for a smile if he didn’t know her like he did.

Charley felt miserable.

“What happened to your moustache?” Edith asked. “I thought you were growing a moustache.”

Charley nodded. “I couldn’t decide if it made me look better or not so I shaved it off.”

“You don’t need a moustache to make you look handsome,” Edith said firmly. She sounded relieved. “You’ve got a fine face.”

“Really?” Charley smiled. “I thought maybe I could use a change.”

“Well, sometimes change isn’t what we need at all.”

Charley knew Edith didn’t like change. But the same old things weren’t always good, either. “If you ask me, we absolutely need to change sometimes. Like with…” Charley lost his nerve. He couldn’t say anything about the changes he’d like to make between the two of them. “Cars. There comes a time when a person needs a new car.”

Edith nodded. “If you want a new car, you should get one.”

“I didn’t mean me. I meant you. Besides, what’s wrong with my pickup? It can still pull a horse trailer if I need to move an animal. And I’ve just got the driver seat broken in the way I like it.”

“Then you know how attached a person gets to their car. I don’t know if I’d be able to drive a different car.”

Charley shifted his feet. “The new cars steer easier than that old Ford you have. You’d like a new one if you’d give it a chance and take it out for a test drive.”

“My old car does fine for me.”

Charley snorted. “Just because Harold bought you that car—”

“He didn’t buy it for me,” Edith interrupted. “It was his car. He bought it for himself.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that Harold wouldn’t expect you to keep it forever. Not when you consider everything.”

Edith drew in her breath. “What do you mean by that?”

Maybe Charley knew more about the past than she thought. Did he know about Jasmine?

Charley looked at her. “Just what I said. When you consider the muffler and the battery and the windshield wipers that don’t work. Harold would not expect you to keep the thing.”

“Oh.” Edith put her hand up to steady her hat against a breeze. The movement made her feet slip a little along the side of the coulee.

“But that’s why you keep that old car, isn’t it? Because it reminds you of Harold?” Charley didn’t know why it annoyed him that Edith was so loyal to her dead husband. She even had that locket the man had given her tied to the rearview mirror in the car. Charley knew it had both of their pictures in it because that’s what lockets were for. He had grieved for his wife deeply when she died, but he hadn’t set up any memorial for her in his pickup.

“There’s nothing wrong with my car,” Edith said. “I keep it because it gets me where I’m going.”

“Barely.”

Edith lifted her head. “The world would be a better place if people didn’t throw away things that still worked. Just look at how many landfills there are in this country. People need to fix things instead of throw them away.”

“I don’t think they put old cars in landfills.” Especially not around here, Charley thought. He didn’t even think there was a landfill within a hundred miles of where they stood. Probably not even within two hundred miles.

“You don’t know what they put in those things. Some of it’s toxic, too.”

Charley didn’t want to talk about garbage problems.

“Well, my nephew, Conrad, is opening a used car lot in Miles City next to his garage. He’d move his business to Dry Creek if he thought he could get enough customers. Talk to him and maybe he can put you in a newer car for reasonable payments.”

“I’m certainly not going to start buying things on credit at this stage of my life,” Edith said. She looked up at Charley. “You remember the problems we all had that year when hail destroyed the wheat crop and most of the men had to work in Billings over Christmas just to make ends meet?”

“I sure do,” Charley said. “I know Harold went. I thought it must have been hard on him. He didn’t talk much about it though when he came back.”

Edith took a deep breath and looked down slightly. “He wasn’t proud of everything he did that winter.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t suppose he told you about it?” Edith looked up again.

“Not much. He said he had dinner with Elmer a few times.”

“I’d forgotten Elmer was there that winter, too.”

Charley thought he saw a tear starting to form in Edith’s eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he said as fast as he could. “I’ll go check on the Morgan place and see if there are any chokecherries.”

Edith turned and started walking back up the coulee. “I don’t need any chokecherries this year. All that jelly isn’t good for us anyway.”

“But what are we going to put on your biscuits at the harvest dinner?” Charley said as he took a couple of quick steps to bring himself even with Edith. He reached out and took her elbow without asking. The woman shouldn’t be walking these coulees without even a stick to balance herself.

“There’s no need for me to make any biscuits,” Edith said and he heard her take another quick breath. “Not when we don’t have the jelly.”

“Oh, boy,” Charley said. He was in trouble now. All of the men he sat with around that old woodstove looked forward to Edith’s biscuits as much as her jelly. They claimed they were the lightest, fluffiest biscuits they’d ever eaten. Charley figured he’d have to drink his coffee at home until spring if he didn’t get some chokecherries.

He couldn’t help but notice that Edith was upset about something. She’d let him take her elbow and help her on the climb, but she kept her arm stiff, as if she didn’t want his help even though she knew she needed it.

It must be the chokecherries, Charley finally decided. She kept saying she didn’t need any berries and she wouldn’t make any jelly this year. But she didn’t speak with the free and easy style she usually had when she talked to him.

Charley suddenly realized what was going on. Edith was being polite to him.

“I’m sorry,” Charley repeated softly for lack of anything better to say. He’d already apologized three times in as many minutes, but he would do it again if it would make Edith talk to him like she used to. It made him feel lonesome, her being so polite.

Edith waved his words away. Charley wasn’t sure if that meant she’d already forgiven him or that there was no way she’d ever forgive him. They finished the walk up the coulee in silence.

They reached their vehicles at the top of the incline before Charley got a good clear look at Edith.

“What’d you do to your hair?”

“It’s just falling down,” she said, lifting a hand to her neck. “Doris June was going to cut it, but we decided not to.”

“Oh, well, it looks nice.”

Edith didn’t answer.

“I’ll wait to see that you get it started,” Charley said as they reached the door of Edith’s car.

“Thank you,” Edith said as she slid under the steering wheel of her car. Charley closed the car door for her.

“It should start fine,” Edith said as she rolled down her window. “I took the car out and let the battery recharge after Pastor Matthew helped me with it yesterday.”

Charley grunted.

“He said I should get a new battery. Maybe your nephew has a used one.”

“He sells used cars, not used batteries. No one buys a used battery. That’s something that needs to work right in a car.”

“Well, Pastor Matthew fixed mine.”

“Temporarily,” Charley said as he started to walk toward his pickup.

“It’s fine right now,” he heard her say.

Charley climbed in his truck before Edith had a chance tell him that he didn’t need to coast along behind her. He felt protective of her and that was just the way it was. He’d started feeling that way even before Harold had died.

Charley’s wife Sue had started it all, asking him one day if he thought Edith hadn’t looked a little sad the last time they’d seen her. His wife had assumed the Hargroves had been arguing and she’d asked him to talk some sense to Harold. Not that Charley ever did. He’d given Harold every chance to talk to him about any problems, but the man kept quiet. The only thing Charley had known to do was to suggest his wife invite Edith over to visit more often.

Charley wondered what his wife would think if she could see Edith now, driving so slowly and deliberately down the gravel road leading back to Dry Creek.

Now, of course, no one—probably not even Edith—remembered those days when she’d seemed so vulnerable. Both Sue and Harold were dead. But that left Charley. He knew. Everyone, including Edith, might think she was well able to take care of herself, but he knew better. Sometimes she needed help, just like everyone else.

Charley looked down at his gas gauge. He was going to need to keep his tank full if he intended to continue following her car around like the fool that he was.