Читать книгу Unanswered Prayers - Penny Richards - Страница 9

April 1951

Dallas was way too big, Howard Blake thought as he surveyed the bustling traffic and the towering buildings whose windows flung the day’s last rays of sunshine into his eyes. As the old adage went, it was a nice place to visit, but he wouldn’t want to live there. A three-day national church convention was plenty long enough for a country boy like him.

Howard had graduated from Baylor at midterm, just in time to step into his retiring father’s shoes as minister of the church in Crystal Creek. It was a position he’d always aspired to, even though it had necessitated his leaving home for four years. Growing up in the small Hill Country town, he had been predisposed to attend Baylor, located in Waco, instead of a smaller college in the large city of Dallas. Howard could contend with the larger university better than he could handle the chaos of big-city life.

Still, when he was urged by his new congregation to attend the convention, there had been no way he could decline without making waves. Following in his father’s footsteps was no easy task, and Howard was well aware that while he was still in the “honeymoon” period with church members, both he and his actions were under constant scrutiny.

Just twenty-two himself, he knew the younger folk liked him. High school and college students could identify with him better than with his father, whom they considered ancient at sixty-three. The younger Blake represented exciting new ideas, a fresh approach, a more modem outlook—within the confines of church doctrine, of course.

The elderly members weren’t so sure. They liked the old, familiar ways and had grown accustomed to the tenor and content of Thaddeus Blake’s sermons. There was also a small contingent who looked down on Howard because he hadn’t joined up to fight in Korea, even though, as an only son—an only child—he’d been deferred from active duty.

The over-forty members regarded Howard warily, as if they expected him to suddenly denounce all they considered holy and run off with the church secretary…and the weekly contribution. After almost four months, Howard still felt as if he were living under some gigantic microscope, his every move monitored and judged by some unseen jury…which was why he’d smiled and assured the deacons that he’d be thrilled to attend the convention in Dallas.

He supposed the endeavor had been a success, but being cooped up for three days and contributing even a small part to the decision making that would shape his life and that of others was serious business. Howard was past ready for some quiet time…and a nice Texas-size steak in a good restaurant.

He planned to follow his meal with an early night and be ready to head back to the Hill Country at daybreak…unless he decided to look up Evalyn Carmichael, who was back in Texas—more specifically, Dallas—after spending the past two years in Hollywood, where she’d sought a career as an actress.

Though he was unaware of it, the thought of Eva made Howard’s heart beat a little faster. He told himself that looking her up while he was in town would be a good deed. He could check and see how she was doing and give her parents a firsthand report when he got back home. As the minister of her former congregation, he could consider the visit his Christian duty.

He sighed. It seemed he’d loved Eva Carmichael most of his life…at the very least since the day he’d looked up into the choir loft and seen her standing there in her pristine white robe, singing her heart out. She’d looked like an angel…her roundish face aglow, her eyes alight with pure pleasure while the Sunday morning sun filtered through the stained-glass window and shot fiery sparks off her auburn hair.

With his heart fluttering in his chest like a caged bird, Howard was sure he’d never seen anything or anyone so beautiful. He’d lost his heart to her that day, and unbeknownst to her, she’d had it ever since. He’d been twelve; Eva only ten.

Not surprisingly, Eva had grown into the most gorgeous creature Howard had ever seen, with masses of naturally wavy auburn hair and a face and figure that caused no little stir in the small town. He heard whispers—even from girls her age, who said she dressed like a floozy with her tight skirts and sweaters and her fullblown, movie-star makeup.

Even Howard’s mother had shaken her head in dismay. She knew that Eva, an aspiring actress, was in love with Hollywood and that she was just looking for glamour, but feared the young woman’s tendency to go to extremes would cause her heartbreak someday.

Howard, who fell more and more in love with Eva every day, had listened with half an ear. Her glamorous persona represented a world that was as far removed from his day-to-day existence as Mars, and even though he carried the torch for her all through high school, he knew she was as out of his reach as that faraway planet.

She never once looked his way during that time—not that he really expected her to. He’d been a tall, skinny “square” back then—complete with a fairly serious case of acne and horn—rimmed glasses. It was no wonder Eva had overlooked him in favor of Nate Purdy, who was not only her own age but tall and good-looking, with aspirations of becoming a doctor like his father.

Eva and Nate had dated their senior year, and then by mutual consent they had broken up—Nate to pursue his medical degree, Eva to reach for the stars…a serious journey for the daughter of Sally and Pete Carmichael, lifelong residents of Crystal Creek.

Pete owned and ran the local grain co-op, and rumor had it that Sally ran Pete, as well as her three girls, with an iron fist. What a scandal it had been when Eva graduated and, with blatant disregard for her parents’ warnings, set out for California with five hundred dollars of baby-sitting money in her purse and a pocketful of dreams.

Howard found himself wondering what had happened to those dreams and why, since she was back in Texas, she hadn’t returned to Crystal Creek to visit her family and friends…a question that brought his thoughts full circle. Should he contact her or not? He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope that bore her return address.

Howard tipped back his head and looked up at the sky, as if he hoped to see some sort of sign from God there. Nothing. No star to lead the way. No pillar of cloud, no pillar of smoke.

He reached into his pocket and took out a quarter. Heads, he’d call. Tails, he wouldn’t. He flipped the coin, caught it and turned it over on the back of his hand. Tails. He frowned. Maybe he’d take the best two out of three, he thought, even as he slipped the coin back into his pocket. He paced in front of a shop, whose shining plateglass window reflected his conservative slacks and jacket.

If he called, she might say she was too busy to see him. On the other hand, if he just dropped by and she did have plans, he’d at least get a brief glimpse of her that might tide him over until the next time their paths crossed. Of course, she might not be at home, and the trip would be wasted…

Howard stopped pacing abruptly. All this rationalizing and analyzing was ridiculous. It was what made him such a boring guy. Women liked men who were fun…spontaneous, impulsive. Men who were full of compliments and could make them laugh, men who thought up entertaining things to do on the spur of the moment. Howard’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. He couldn’t recall doing a single impulsive thing in twenty-two years.

Drawing a determined breath, he turned and marched down the block to where he’d parked his car. With a determined gleam in his eyes, he pulled out a city map and located Eva’s street on it. He needed to get to her apartment as fast as possible…before he talked himself out of seeing her at all.

Eva sat at her red, Formica-topped kitchen table stroking blood-red polish onto her long nails in an effort to lift her flagging spirits, even though she was certain that she’d never feel young or happy again. Early April sunshine streamed through the west windows, undimmed by the worn lace curtains, turning the small, one-room apartment into a veritable oven. The sun’s brightness maximized the shabbiness of the sofa and sought out the worn places in the kitchen linoleum with its violent pink cabbage roses.

Her wet hair was bound up in a terry towel, turbanstyle, and she wore the black satin robe Denny had sent her from Korea. She’d just gotten out of the worn clawfoot bathtub, having sat in the tepid water longer than she really wanted to in an effort to cool off. The unseasonable heat had been unbearable the past few days. She dreaded to think what it would be like in August…or in September…when her baby would be born.

Thoughts of the baby sent a ripple of fear through her. The fear was quickly followed by guilt and shame. She was going to have a baby. Denny’s baby. A baby that would be born out of wedlock. She hated to think of what her parents would say when they learned the news.

Eva pushed away the troubling thoughts. She wouldn’t consider that now. She’d just take one day at a time. A wave of homesickness washed over her. More and more lately, she found herself longing for the hometown she’d been so desperate to leave. It had taken her two years, but she’d found that even though the grass might be greener on the other side of the fence, it was still unpalatable sometimes.

She wished she could make peace with her mother, who was still harping about how she’d disgraced them by going out to Hollywood—that sinful place where girls who hoped to become movie stars were led down the primrose path by men in power. They were lured by empty promises of stardom into the webs of sin, she’d warned, only to be dumped when someone newer, fresher, prettier or more interesting came along.

A weary, reminiscent smile curved Eva’s mouth as she recapped the bottle of fingernail polish. It had taken only a couple of wrestling matches with the so-called men in power for her to realize that the casting couch route wasn’t for her.

She might have longed for glamour, but her strong moral upbringing and vivid memory of Reverend Blake’s hellfire-and-brimstone sermons had stood her in good stead, which was why, even though she managed to get a few bit parts, she’d never landed a big role.

One executive had told her straight out that even though she was no Elizabeth Taylor, he could still do great things for her…if she’d do a little something for him in return.

You can sing like a nightingale, baby, but if you want to know the truth, your acting is average at best.

Eva—who preferred to go by the name Eve Michaels—let him know quickly that she wasn’t interested. She had thanked him for his time and left his office, her head high, her heart broken. She thought about what he’d told her often in the following months, while she worked waiting tables and selling tickets at a nearby movie theater. As hard as it was to admit, she’d known he was right. Her acting ability, which had seemed so incredible to the townsfolk of Crystal Creek, was no better and no worse than that of hundreds of girls who came looking for fame and fortune.

Disillusioned and feeling much a failure, she’d considered packing her things and going home. After a year and a half, homesickness was a constant knot in her breast, but going back to Crystal Creek without any real movie credits seemed like an admission of failure, so she’d stayed in California. She’d never been good at admitting she was wrong.

Eva wasn’t sure she’d ever been so low as that night early in December, when she’d agreed to go with her friend Maria to a Knights of Columbus dance. It was there she’d met Private First Class Denny Talbot of the United States Army and fallen head over heels in love.

Denny was home on furlough for the Christmas holidays. His family—his parents and two sisters—who lived just outside Forth Worth on a small cattle operation, had driven out to California to be with him, a sort of combined vacation and family reunion.

From the instant she and Denny had met, they’d both known that this was IT. Every moment she wasn’t working at her two jobs, Eva spent with Denny and his family.

Well, not every moment…There were those evenings when his parents claimed weariness and his sisters were sent to bed to rest up for the next day’s outing that the young lovers were granted time alone. They talked well into the night, telling each other of their hopes and dreams, confessing their disappointments and faults, professing their growing love for each other, and kissing until the feelings building inside them threatened to rage out of control.

After just a week, Denny bought her an engagement ring, three small diamonds—not much more than chips in a fancy setting—that Eva wore proudly. They made plans. She would go back to Texas with his parents so that she could be close to both his family and hers. She would get a job, and he’d send her his checks so they could save up. As soon as his hitch was over—maybe before—they would be married.

Denny’s family was less than pleased over his decision to marry Eva. After all, they argued, while she seemed like a nice girl, he hardly knew her. Stubbornly, Denny maintained he knew enough.

Eva and Denny were delirious with happiness, and even though her conscience threatened to get the best of her, Eva finally gave in to Denny’s persistent urging and let him make love to her. They were engaged, she told herself, as Denny kept reminding. While the act wasn’t what she’d imagined it would be, he was so sweet and loving and apologetic for hurting her that she decided it was worth it.

Denny shipped out on December 27, and Eva cried for hours. Once his plane left, she followed their plans to the letter, scrunching into the backseat of the Talbots’ Chevy with his sisters, her belongings packed in cardboard boxes and loaded onto a Greyhound bus to be delivered to her home state later. It didn’t take her long to find her small apartment and a full-time job in a Dallas department store.

Eva wrote to Denny daily, and he answered as often as he could, trying to make light of the war and bemoaning the heavy losses the Allies had encountered.

For the most part, war was far from Eva’s mind. She was in love, soon to be married, and life was as close to a fairy tale as it was ever likely to get. She prayed for Denny at all hours of the day; she had no doubts that God would answer her prayers.

Then, one day in February when she woke up with a queasy stomach, she realized that she hadn’t had a period since the first part of December—the fourth. She remembered the exact day because it was the day the Allies had begun to retreat from Pyongyang, bested by the battering they’d been taking since the Chinese Communist attack had begun November 26.

Pregnant. She had absorbed the truth in stunned disbelief. Things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. She’d been good and chaste…until Denny, and surely he didn’t count. They were in love and engaged to be married. It wasn’t as if she was loose or anything.

Afraid for her future for the first time in her life, afraid Denny might abandon her and the baby, Eva wrote him a panicked letter, telling him about her condition and seeking assurance that he still loved her. His reply arrived early in March.

Gallantly, Denny maintained that it was wonderful about the baby and that of course he still loved her and that he was doing his best to get an emergency leave so he could come home and marry her as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure when that might be, though, because the Allied forces were pressing the advantage of the successful northward march that had taken them to the outskirts of Seoul. The U.N. troops had been inflicting staggering casualties to the Chinese army, and Denny believed that they would be successful in retaking the city.

“Don’t worry,” he had written. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, and I’ll take care of you, I promise. I love you. Forever yours, Denny.”

His reassurances eased her mind, and she counted the days until he came back home. She didn’t tell either set of parents about the baby. She wanted to wait for Denny so that they could present a united front. She needed his support.

Operation Ripper began on March 7, and Eva, like the rest of the country, sat by her radio, listening for every tidbit of news she could glean about the battle raging in Seoul. When she heard of the Communist evacuation of the city on the night of March 14, she had cried tears of thankfulness. Maybe now that the U.N. forces seemed to have things under control, Denny could come home.

Three days later she had opened the door of her apartment and found his parents standing there with red eyes and long faces. Tears streamed unashamedly down Denny’s father’s cheeks as he told her that they had been notified by the War Department that Denny had been killed during the retaking of Seoul.

Eva had fainted, and when she came around, she’d cried so long and hard that Denny’s mother wanted to take her to the hospital. Later, when Eva calmed down, Mrs. Talbot had smoothed her hair and suggested in a gentle tone that maybe Eva should go back to Crystal Creek for a while…just until the edge wore off her grief.

Eva had thanked the Talbots for coming and sent them on their way. She needed to be alone, to ponder her future, a preoccupation that had taken up a lot of her time since she’d learned of Denny’s death. Days of thinking brought her to two conclusions: she had no real future without Denny; and more important, the idea of spending the rest of her life as an unwed mother was unbearable.

She had debated—was still debating—whether or not she should tell the Talbots about the baby. If she did, she’d have to tell her parents, and they would insist that she move back to Crystal Creek. They would never let her live down her mistake, and the people of Crystal Creek…well, she was pretty sure she knew what their reaction would be. She would be an outcast. A scarlet woman, unfit to associate with the “respectable” people of the small town.

Three weeks had passed since she’d heard about Denny, and the pain of her loss still nagged like a sharp stone in her shoe. She missed him—his smile, his gentleness. His common sense. She was lost and rudderless, unable to make the simplest decision.

Even after three weeks of careful consideration, she wasn’t sure she could go back and face the people she’d known all her life. She’d been so full of pride and confidence when she left, so sure that when she returned, she would be a success—a star.

Eva felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. As Reverend Blake had often preached, pride went before a fall. Her success hadn’t materialized, and not only had she lost the only man she would ever love, she’d “got caught,” the price her mother had warned her that “bad girls” often paid.

Eva shuddered at the memory of her mother’s frequent, scathing lectures. She couldn’t go back to Crystal Creek. Going back home a failure was one thing. Going back a pregnant failure was something else altogether.

What to do about the situation was something she thought about daily…while she worked, while she sat whiling away the hours until bedtime. She was now almost four months pregnant; luckily she’d been so ill that she’d lost a lot of weight, and so far she didn’t show at all.