| |
HARRY PULLED A HANDKERCHIEF from his back pocket and wiped his face and neck. It came away wet and streaked with dirt and ash. He had, with great ceremony, piled his army pack, gear, and uniform—anything flammable—downwind of the house and barn, doused it in kerosene, and tossed a match. The highlight of his return was the great whoosh and crackle as the whole thing went up in one big fireball. Later, he’d dump the rest into the deep middle of Pine Lake.
Heat from the flames held him at a distance. He turned his face away and let the late afternoon breeze cool his skin.
For as long as he could remember, his parents paid hired hands to do the farm work, but now with the epidemic and quarantine there was no one except himself. Surprisingly, his father seemed to be taking to it—a little too much for Harry’s comfort. Why, earlier he’d intimated now was a good time to hand over control of the bank and become a gentleman farmer. The problem was Harry no longer planned to stay in Pine Lake.
“As soon as Alice and I are married, I’m going to sell that farm and move us to Minneapolis,” he mumbled, poking a corner of his uniform into the flames. “I’ll talk to Father tonight. He has connections. Then I’ll talk to Mother. She’ll put an end to this gentleman farmer nonsense.” Harry coughed and spit. “God damn! The dirt gets everywhere. How does Jack put up with this day after day?”
A cloud of dust announced visitors before the wagon came into sight. He put up a hand to shelter his eyes from the sun. It was the Armstrong wagon. He recognized the team. Sugar and Molasses. Another thing he’d be selling as soon as they were married. Ken Armstrong certainly knew good horse flesh, and Harry would get a fine price for them. Once he sold the farm and animals, he’d have enough money to buy an automobile.
Alice wouldn’t be happy, at first, but she’d get over it. After all, what girl didn’t like all the nice things money could buy? And there would be plenty of money in their future. Enough shiny things might make it a little easier to look at his mangled face on the pillow next to hers every night.
Harry’s fingers automatically went to the right side of his once handsome face. He was a monster, but he would be a monster with money and a future. No one else in town could offer Alice half as much. Certainly not Jack, and it was beginning to appear that might be what his brother had in mind. He needed to get Alice away from Jack’s influence as soon as possible. Who would have ever thought one day his brother could become his greatest rival for a girl’s affections?
Jack drove the team. Alice sat next to him looking a little tired, but healthier than when he last saw her. He returned her wave. Before Jack brought the horses to a full stop, she was down and in his arms. He had forgotten how good she felt, missed the smell of her hair. Vanilla and sunshine, along with something vaguely reminiscent of his days in the army hospital. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Just a lingering memory. There would probably be plenty of those for a while. Like his nightmares.
“Careful, I’m a mess.” He studied her at arm’s length. “Does Doc know you’re here?”
“No, not specifically here with you, but he lifted our quarantine this morning.”
“You look tired.”
“I am, a little, but it’s a good tired. I’m going to be helping him care for the sick.”
That was it. The smell of the sick and dying. This was unacceptable. Harry turned to Jack for confirmation. His brother nodded.
“I spent the entire afternoon at the school with him.” Alice took his hand. “There’s a temporary hospital ward in the gymnasium. Oh, Harry, I wish you could see them. Rows and rows of the sick.”
“No.” Harry knew well what a hospital ward was like when filled to capacity and beyond. “I forbid you. I don’t want you anywhere near those people.”
“Harry, Doc needs all the help he can get.”
He turned away then back again. “I don’t care.” He raised a hand, fighting his desire to punch something.
She put a gentle hand over his fist. “Doc’s exhausted and I can’t get sick again, so I’m the perfect person to help.”
“It’s true.” Jack added his two-cents worth from his seat on the wagon. “Doc says she’s immune. Me, too, or I’d have come down with it by now.”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She side-stepped his grasp when he reached for her arm.
“I’m going to be your husband, and I said you’re not going back. I’ll tell Doc myself if you can’t.”
Hands on hips, she stared at him. “Well, you’re not my husband yet.”
Her stubborn streak used to be cute, but not anymore. “I don’t know what happened to you while I was gone, but maybe we need to rethink this wedding.” Alice’s chin trembled. Tears lit the corner of her eyes. It was the reaction he’d counted on.
“You don’t mean it.” Her voice cracked. “It’s only until the epidemic is over. Then we can get married, like we planned. We can’t do anything until after the town quarantine is lifted anyway.”
Jack climbed down and stood next to her. “Oh, for God’s sake, Harry.”
Harry’s jaw tensed. What the hell had been going on while he was gone? He’d have to put a stop to it, and quickly. He’d be the bigger man, put Jack off his guard, while keeping an eye on him. He didn’t like the idea of them alone on that farm, even with Jack living in separate quarters.
He took her into his arms and kissed her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry, Alice. I just missed you so much while I was off fighting. Can you forgive me?”
A familiar smile lit her face. “Of course, I forgive you. And I promise, as soon as this is over, you will have me all to yourself again.”
Their mother came down the front steps and offered her cheek to her youngest son. “Hello, Jack.”
He kissed her. “Hello, Mother. You look well.”
“Yes, well, we’ve been fortunate.” She turned from Jack to face Alice and Harry. “Miss Armstrong, my sympathies on your loss.”
“Thank you. It’s been difficult, but Jack’s been so helpful. I don’t know how I’d have gotten along without him.”
His mother cocked her head to Harry. “We owe a debt of gratitude to your brother, wouldn’t you say? For seeing our dear Alice safely recovered and returned to us.”
Harry shook his head. He knew sarcasm when he heard it. It was plain his mother still didn’t approve of his choice in a bride.
He put on his best smile for Jack. “Of course. Thank you, Jack, for watching over my Alice.” He offered his hand and squeezed. Jack squeezed harder. Harry raised one eyebrow. His baby brother’s manual labor was paying off.
Their mother interrupted their little game of one-upmanship. “Jack, it’s time you took her home.” She smiled at Alice. “I’m happy to see you up and about, dear, but I hope you’re not overdoing things. Rest, lots of rest, is what you need. Good night.”
She officially dismissed them, marching stiff-backed into the house with a final word to Harry over her shoulder. “Put that fire out and wash up, Harry. Dinner will be served shortly.”
“I’ll be right there.” Harry smiled and gave Alice a quick kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you soon. We’ll go on a picnic, just us, and have a proper welcome home.”
“I’d like that very much. I’ll bake a chocolate cake.”
Harry pressed his hand to his heart and backed away. “My favorite.” He turned to his brother and saluted. “Bye, Jack.” Alice was his, and he’d make certain Jack never forgot it.
Jack offered Alice a hand up onto the wagon seat then returned for a final word. He nodded toward the flames and said quietly. “You can burn what you brought back on the outside, but not what you became on the inside, brother.”