Jack didn’t return from his errand until after dark. Surprisingly, Delray and David were out on the front porch in spite of the heat. He had no intention of intruding. He was amazed that he was still employed.
Yesterday afternoon he had really overstepped his bounds. He had plunged headfirst into the turbulent waters of a moral conflict, ostensibly to save a drowning man who hadn’t asked to be saved. Now, more than twenty-four hours later, he was still berating himself for asking Delray how long he had loved his daughter-in-law.
What the hell business was it of his? None. Except that Delray was upset because he and Anna had been alone together in the barn. And Delray suspected him of poisoning his herd of beef cattle. Jack supposed that gave him some license to speak his mind. Even so, it had been an inappropriate question and he had known that when he asked it.
Delray’s reaction had been justifiably irate. He had turned his head so quickly that he’d inadvertently turned the steering wheel of his pickup, too. It had swerved off the road and onto the shoulder. Delray had applied the brakes in time to keep them from plunging into the ditch, but inertia caused the truck to strain forward before rocking back and coming to a jarring stop.
When Delray turned to Jack, the veins in his forehead were bulging with anger. “I don’t know what gutter you crawled out of, but you and your dirty mind…” He had been breathing so hard, he’d had to pause to catch his breath. “Let me set you straight on one thing. I have never laid a hand on Anna. Nothing, nothing, improper has ever passed between her and me.”
“I believe you,” Jack told him. “I didn’t ask you how long you’d been sleeping with her; I asked how long you’d loved her.”
Delray had continued to glare at him for several moments, but Jack hadn’t backed down. He had known he was right. Delray’s reaction had rid him of all doubt that he was mistaken.
Finally Delray slumped back in his seat and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. He stayed that way for a full minute. Jack scarcely moved, hardly breathed. It was a long sixty seconds.
When at last Delray lowered his hand, it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. It flopped lifelessly into his lap. He stared disconsolately through the windshield, looking old, defeated, and incredibly sad.
“Does she know?”
Delray shook his head. “No. No.”
Jack had said nothing else, knowing he had said more than enough.
After a time Delray had steered the truck back onto the road and they returned to the ranch. It wouldn’t have surprised Jack if Delray had ordered him then to pack and leave. He had two very good reasons to fire him.
But Delray hadn’t mentioned dismissal then, or this morning when Jack reported to work. He was still employed this afternoon when he left to get the part for the broken pump. Apparently, he was still on the payroll.
But he certainly didn’t expect an invitation to join the family tonight, so he hesitated even when David waved to him from the porch. He shouted, “Hey, Jack! Come here! We’re making ice cream.”
Couldn’t hurt to stop and say hello, he thought. He stopped his truck and got out.
“Hi, Jack.”
“Hey, David.” As Jack climbed the porch steps he nodded at the antiquated machine. “I thought all ice cream freezers were electric these days. Didn’t know they still made the wooden ones.”
“They don’t.” Delray was sweating from the exertion, but he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. “We’ve got an electric one, but, I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem to taste as good as when you crank it yourself.”
Delray was having to apply himself to turn the hand crank. David was sitting on top of the gear mechanism, a folded towel cushioning it for him. The freezer, a barrel made of vertical wooden slats, was standing in a plastic tub so the brine draining from a hole in the side of it wouldn’t run into the flower beds at the edge of the porch.
“It freezes faster if I’m sitting on it,” David told him.
“That’s why you’re such an important fellow around here.”
The boy flashed his snaggle-toothed grin.
“Get the part?” Delray asked.
“Yeah, I’ll start on that pump first thing tomorrow morning. Unless you want me to do it tonight.”
“Hell no. Sit down.”
Surprised by the invitation, he sat down on the top step.
“You’re not s’posed to say hell, Grandpa.”
“You’re right, David, I’m not. Did you have some supper?” he asked Jack.
“I stopped for a burger.”
“This should be ready in a few more minutes.”
As though on cue, Anna came through the door carrying a tray of bowls, napkins, and spoons. Jack jumped up and relieved her of the tray, which seemed to fluster her. Or maybe she was flustered because she didn’t have enough utensils for him and had to go back inside to get them. When she returned, Delray pronounced the ice cream ready.
David hopped down. The towel was removed. Jack watched with interest as the salty ice was scraped away from the metal canister and it was lifted out. Anna took the lid off and pulled out the dasher, the louvered gizmo that stirred the cream mixture while it was freezing. Then, using a long spoon, she served up the first bowl and passed it to Jack.
Taken aback, he accepted it with a murmured “Thanks.” He waited until everyone else had been served before spooning his first bite. It was rich, cold, sweet, and redolent with vanilla. Delicious.
“Anna uses Mary’s recipe, which came down through her family,” Delray told him. “I bet it’s the best homemade ice cream you ever ate.”
“It’s the only homemade ice cream I ever ate.” He said it before he thought about it. He was hoping the admission would pass without notice, but Delray raised his head and looked at him. Jack shrugged. “My, uh, my folks weren’t into things like making ice cream. How’d your meeting with Lomax go?”
Thankfully the diversion worked to change the subject. Delray pulled a frown. “I sent him packing and told him not to bother me again with any offers to buy my ranch. Then he went to work on Anna.”
Jack looked across at her. They’d been avoiding making direct eye contact, although he had been aware of every movement she made, and he got a sense that she was just as conscious of him. Their nervousness was silly. They were grown-ups, not kids. They hadn’t done anything in the barn except touch hands.
Of course, now that he knew the nature of Delray’s feelings, he would never look at her without remembering that.
But now he looked at her inquisitively and Delray said, “Tell him, Anna. He’ll get a kick out of it.”
With Delray acting as interpreter, she recounted her conversation with Emory Lomax. When she was finished, Jack said, “I thought he was just a jerk. Turns out he’s a total creep.”
From the hallway, Jack had overheard enough to form a low opinion of the banker. If Lomax were an honest businessman, a person with integrity, he wouldn’t have resorted to blackmailing Delray with his connection to Carl Herbold. The way he had come on to Anna proved the guy had no ethics, and that he was an egotistical asshole to boot. It was a dangerous combination.
“Tell Jack what you said to him,” Delray said, chuckling. She turned to Jack, but Delray translated her signs into words. “I pretended to be flattered. When he suggested that we get together, I called him an… an ugly name,” Delray said, amending it because of David. “I told him to take his slimy hands off me or I was going to kick him in the you-know-whats.”
David licked out the bowl of his spoon. “Kick him where, Grandpa?”
“I get the picture,” Jack said, grimacing. “You should have gone ahead and done it, Anna.” She smiled at him. Extending his empty bowl, he said, “Are seconds allowed? Please?”
He watched her as she spooned the ice cream from the canister. Light coming from inside the house through the front windows lit only one side of her face. The other was softened by shadow. Hot as the evening air was, her skin looked cool. She made no wasted motions. When melting ice cream got on her fingers, she unselfconsciously licked it off.
Then Jack became aware of Delray watching him watch Anna. He ate the second helping of ice cream in record time, said good night, and left the Corbetts on the porch.
For a long time, he stood beneath the spray in the minuscule shower in the trailer, repeating countless times, “Don’t do something stupid and blow it, Jack. Don’t blow it.”