Chapter 32

“WAKE UP, PRETTY GIRL.” Joe spoke softly and placed tender kisses on her lips.

April opened her eyes and found his face just inches from hers. She stroked his cheek with her fingertips.

“Has the train gone through?”

“Hours ago. I couldn’t leave you. I’ll wrap a big, fat bandage around my hand before I leave. Miss Nosy Davenport will think I’ve had an accident.”

She laughed happily. “It’s daylight. Rolling Thunder will be getting mean.” Her fingers slid into the hair at the nape of his neck. She was curled up in his arms, one leg sandwiched between his.

“I’ve been waiting for daylight. I wanted to look at you before I had to go.”

His eyes held hers. There was something in his face she hadn’t seen before. Love. And it was for her. She felt wonderfully, gloriously happy.

“Tell me what you told me last night. I’m almost afraid to believe it.” He pulled back his face, his eyes watched her closely.

“I . . . love . . . you.” She spaced the words for emphasis. His lips covered hers before she could say more.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. You are mine!” He looked as happy as a boy on Christmas morning. “When will you marry me? It better be soon because I’m going to sleep here in this bed with you every night from now on.”

“Oh, my! That will make Miss Davenport very happy.” “How about Miss Asbury?”

“I’ll be known as a fallen woman.”

“Not for long. You’ll be a respectable married woman.” “When?”

“Today. Tomorrow at the latest.”

She laughed. “That’s impossible.”

“We’ll talk about it when I get back.”

“When will you be back?”

“Two hours at the most. I’ll do my chores, then go by the farm and see Jack. Pa does only what’s necessary on Sunday.”

“I’ll cook—”

“I’d rather you stay right here in bed and wait for me.” “Oh . . . you!”

“Kiss me. It’s got to last two long hours.” His hand moved up and down her back and over her rounded bottom. The feel of her warm body against his and the scent of her filled his head. “I don’t want to go. But knowing you’ll be here waiting for me will make it bearable,” he whispered and kissed her long and hard.

She returned his kisses hungrily, feeling the familiar longing in her loins, pressing against him, her breasts tingling as they had last night when he caressed them.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered and parted her lips for his kiss. His mouth covered hers and she clung to him, melting into his hard body. He kissed her quickly and pulled back.

“I’d better go while I can.”

He dressed hurriedly, leaned over to kiss her again and was gone.

April didn’t move until she heard the car start and drive away. Then she bounded out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. The cold, wet cloth felt good against her.

She could hardly contain her bubbling spirits as she looked in the cabinet and icebox for something to fix for breakfast. All she could find were potatoes, eggs, cheese and part of an apple pie. She hoped that Joe liked fried potatoes.

The phone rang while she was waiting for water to heat to make a cup of tea.

It was Mrs. Bailey, a mother with an eight-month-old baby. “He has cried all night, and when he fills his diaper, its runny. I just don’t know what to do.”

“He’s teething, isn’t he?”

“Yes, his gums are white. He’s exhausted from crying, and I’m exhausted from lack of sleep.”

“Try putting some crushed ice in a cloth and let him chew on it. Sometimes that will give relief. You can also rub his gums with the flat end of a spoon handle. If he runs a temperature, call me back and I’ll call the doctor in Mason, and I’m sure he’ll want to see him. The doctor won’t be here in Fertile until Tuesday.”

“I’ll try the ice.”

She was frying potatoes when she heard the key in the lock, the door open and footsteps come toward the kitchen. Her heart quickened. As soon as Joe appeared in the doorway, she dropped the spatula and sped to his open arms. His smile reached all the way into her heart. He was her heart, her soul. He had become so dear to her that she would never be content when he was out of her sight.

“I could hardly wait to get back,” he whispered against her mouth, then lifted her off her feet and whirled her around.

“I missed you!”

“Then you’ve not changed your mind about being Mrs. Jones?”

“Not on your life. I’m holding you to it!” She kissed his mouth. “But you’d better let me get back to the potatoes before they burn.”

“I never thought I’d be jealous of a pan of potatoes!” he complained. Then the old devilish grin came back. “I’m even jealous of this.” He plucked at her blouse. “It’s closer to you than I am.”

While eating the fried potatoes and eggs, April asked about Doc and Caroline.

“He telephoned his sister from Kansas City to tell her they were coming. Isn’t it something that you can talk over a wire all the way to Tennessee? Anyway, they boarded the train, but not before Doc took Caroline to a store and bought her a new dress, hat and coat. Doc was so proud to walk out in public with her on his arm, something he could never do here.”

“I hope they will find a place where they can be happy.” “Doc is confident they will.”

April and Joe spent the day being totally absorbed with each other. They sat on the couch, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder, and talked of everything that had taken place in their lives up to now. She told him about her father leaving her and her mother stranded in St. Louis and how they’d had to go home to her grandparents in Independence.

“He came to see us from time to time. It didn’t bother him that my grandparents were supporting his family. Each time he left, my mother died a little, until there seemed to be nothing remaining for her. She went to bed one night and never got up. I’ve hated him ever since.”

“Have you seen him since you grew up?”

“Once. Right after Grandmother died. He came to the house and thought he would move in and I’d take care of him. I told him that I had not had a father for twenty years and didn’t want one now. He left, and I’ve not heard from him since and don’t want to ever hear from him again.”

Joe told her about his mother’s dying when he was fourteen and how Julie had stepped in to take care of her brothers and sister. He told her that Ron Poole, Shirley’s husband, had attempted to rape Jill and how Thad had fought with him.

“The poor girl!”

“Thad tackled him, and he was just a skinny kid himself. They rolled over near Thad’s horse. When Ron tried to stab Thad with a knife, he stuck it in the horse instead. The horse kicked him. Ron lived long enough for us to get him home. Pa wouldn’t have him in the house, and he died in the barn.”

He was about to tell her something else because he wanted there to be no secrets between them when they heard footsteps on the porch, then a heavy knock on the door.

Joe groaned and grabbed April for a quick kiss before he let her leave his arms to open the door.

Fred stood there. His hat was set square on his head. He held a flat tin box clutched to his chest.

“Hello, Fred.”

He jerked off his hat. “Miss Asbury. Ah ...I... wondered if you would spare me some time.” His eyes went past her when Joe came to stand behind her and put a possessive hand on her shoulder.

“Hello, Fred.”

“Joe.” Fred didn’t show any surprise at finding him there. “I really do need to talk to someone ...and ...ah...I’m glad you’re here, Joe. This concerns your family among others.” He was clearly in an agitated state. His hands shook, his eyes darted from Joe to April.

“Come in, Fred.” April held open the door.

“Thank you.”

“How are things going, Fred?” Joe asked in an attempt to put him at ease. “I see you’re making a few changes at the store. Took off that ragged awning for one thing. It helped the looks of the building.”

“Shirley would never let me take it off because Ron had put it there.”

“I heard that the store and house are yours now.” “Shirley made out a will the first year I was here, leaving the house and the store to me. I was surprised. I think she had forgotten about it.” He stood holding his hat and the flat tin box. “I have something here you should see.”

“Come into the kitchen and I’ll get us some tea.”

Fred hung his hat on the hall tree and followed April. He placed the tin box carefully on the table and sat down. Wearily he rubbed his face with his hand.

“I have wrestled with what I found in this box for two days. I don’t know what to do about it, but something must be done. It affects too many lives.”

“What is it?” Joe felt cold fingers on his spine. He feared it would have something to do with Julie and Joy. He sat down and reached for April’s hand. She moved close to him, instinctively knowing that he needed her.

“First, let me tell you that we found the box about six years ago. It was behind a stack of shelves that we pulled out because the roof was leaking. Shirley took it, and I never gave it another thought. I found it again when I went through her dresser drawers looking for things to bury her in. I didn’t get around to opening it until a couple of nights ago.”

Fred lifted the lid on the box and let it fall back on the table. On the top of what looked like Kodak pictures and mementos was a small notebook. He took it out and handed it to Joe.

“It seems that my brother-in-law kept a record of his shameful activities. Your sister’s name is there. I had planned to ask Miss Asbury’s advice on how I should let your family know about this.”

Joe took the book and began to read. A muscle ticked in his jaw when he read:

Julie Jones—July 1917—girl March 1918 named Joy. Below was written, I couldn’t have picked a better name myself.

Joe cursed silently, remembering the day Julie, alone in the barn, gave birth to Joy. He forced himself to continue reading and was surprised by the number of names he recognized. In the back of the book he found a list of eleven children who lived in and around Fertile. Another list matched the boys and girls according to their ages.

“Mrs. Poole wrote this?” he asked.

Fred nodded. “Now that I look back, she was never the same after she found this box. She became increasingly bitter and harder and harder to live with. I think she hated all women.” Fred lowered his eyes to the table. “Women seldom came to the house and never to visit.”

“It wasn’t the women’s fault that her husband was a sick pervert,” April said staunchly.

“She rented to Miss Asbury because I insisted. I thought it would be good for her to have a young person around. But it just made her more hateful.”

Joe looked at the Kodak pictures and picked out one of Joy when she was about four years old, coming out of the church with Julie.

“I wonder how he got this picture. Good Lord.” He picked up a picture of a young woman sitting on a step and flipped it over and read, “ ‘Ardyth Jenkins pregnant with my kid.’ I knew Ardyth. When she was about fifteen, she drowned in the river. Everyone thought it an accident.”

“He raped Sammy Davidson’s mother a few months before your sister.” April was scanning the pages of the notebook. “It seems that Mrs. Poole’s plan was to try and make a match between her husband’s children. She had Joy down here with Sammy Davidson. Richard Myers with the Bradbury girl.”

April looked up at Fred. “Oh, my. She planned to get revenge by having the children each mate with their own brother or sister. But why take her hurt out on the children?”

“I don’t think she was in her right mind,” he said tiredly. “I was there when the bastard died.” Joe stared at the picture of Joy. “He died after he tried to rape Jill, who was about fifteen at the time. If Thad’s horse hadn’t stomped him, my pa would have killed him on the spot. As he was dying, he bragged about all the offspring he was leaving behind. I remember him saying that there were eighteen of them. He had the guts to ask to see Joy. He wanted her at his funeral. Pa said he’d see him in hell first.”

Joe continued. “Julie didn’t know who had raped her. He was always careful to blindfold his victims. No one knew what had happened to her but me and Pa and Jack, but we never talked about it. My mother was bedfast,” he explained to April. “She died shortly after Joy was born and everyone assumed she died in childbirth.”

“Poor Julie,” April said. “All this time she’s had to pretend that Joy was her sister and not her child. That must have been hard.”

“Knowing Julie, I’m sure she told Evan before they were married.” Joe picked up a picture of a barefoot boy and recognized Sammy. “Mrs. Poole was throwing Joy and Sammy together. Joy will be shocked to find out that he’s as much her brother as Logan is.”

“What a mess.” Fred shook his head. “It’s a relief to me to have someone else know about this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Joe said, “Corbin and Doc were there when Ron died; and we all agreed that Mrs. Poole shouldn’t have to suffer for what her husband had done, so we kept it quiet. The story that was put out was that his horse spooked, he was thrown and the frightened horse stomped him.”

“The parents of these children should know the rapist was Poole. Then it will be up to them to tell the children if they choose.” April’s calm voice filled the silence. “What if Joy and Sammy had grown up and fallen in love with each other, got married and later discovered they were brother and sister? It would have destroyed them.”

Joe looked steadily at Fred. The man had risen in his estimation. He could have taken this information and spread it all over town, yet he was here, exposing his sister’s sick plan with the hope of fixing it.

“You should take this to Evan, Fred. He’ll know how to tell Julie, and they can decide how to handle the rest of it.”

Fred sighed. “I think you’re right.”

“If you want me to go out and bring Evan into town, I will. I’ll think of some excuse.”

“I would like to get this out of my hands.” Fred went to the hall rack for his hat.

April and Joe went with him to the door. Joe’s arm was around her.

“April and I are getting married,” Joe said bluntly.

“I thought that was the way the wind blew. You’re a lucky man.” Fred smiled for the first time since he came into the house.

“I think so. Come back in a couple of hours, Fred. I’ll have Evan here. He may want to bring Julie, and he may not. It’ll be up to him.”

Later that afternoon Evan and Julie met with Fred. She told him how grateful she was that he came forward with the information about Ron Poole’s offspring. She was shocked to read the list of names and realized she knew many of the children. What if two of them had married not knowing their relationship?

A heavy load would be lifted from her heart when she explained to Joy the circumstances of her birth. Not since before that terrible day when she was sixteen years old had Julie felt so happy. She had a wonderful, understanding husband and three beautiful children.

She could now put the past behind her.