Help Wanted: WIFE (Santa Rita Series) (3 page)

Sitting back in the shadows, Cole’s expression was hidden, but his quiet chuckle rippled across the porch. “Abe will be heading up to his room as soon as he can get there. The moon’s got a red face tonight, and he’ll be wanting to get inside away from it. That’s about the most superstitious man ever lived, Cherry. Anything different, out of the ordinary, gets him going about things being ‘unnatural.’ He’ll have a string of reasons why doom and gloom are at hand.”

“And he really believes in dark omens and the portent of disaster?”

“To the depths of his heart.”

In a few moments Cherilyn witnessed for herself the old man’s conviction. He was complaining of the “blood moon” as he reached the porch. “No good comes of anything that unnatural. Don’t think I
ever
saw it so dadgummed red, not in my whole life. Not sure what it means, but it’s a real bad sign. And I saw an owl out today, right in the middle of the morning. Always bad to see a night creature out in the daylight. No, I’m telling you, it’s a storm warning or sign of terrible things ahead. No two ways about it.” And still voicing concern and predicting catastrophe, Abe Witherspoon made his way inside and up the stairs to his attic room.

“Folk magic and handed-down superstition.” Cherilyn respected the old man enough not to contradict him, though she hid a smile at his dire predictions.

A quiet spell fell between them as Cole kept his perch on the weathered railing, and Cherilyn rocked slowly in the creaking glider.

“You thought anymore about taking that bus back home in a couple of days?” Cole’s question took her by surprise. She’d hoped to postpone any discussion of the pending decision. “I mean, you haven’t come to a definite answer yet, have you?”

“No, not
definite
, exactly.”

“Reason I ask is I thought maybe you’d put off deciding about making the trip back for a few more days. Maybe see a little more of the country around here, go into town, meet some folks, especially some of the ladies, before you make plans.” He shifted as if suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s, well, it’s just that there’s a dance in town this Saturday night. A dance to raise some money for the school. You being a schoolteacher, I reckon you know how important those things are. Ladies bring a pie or cake for the auction, menfolk buy a ticket to the dance, and ever’body has a pretty good time. School gets new books or baseball equipment or something else we need without anybody being out of pocket too much. And I thought maybe you’d let me take you along to the dance. Meet some of the townsfolk, have an evening out of the kitchen. You think you might like to go? If you haven’t had enough of the Witherspoons already?”

Cherilyn stopped holding her breath. “Cole, I would be most pleased and honored to go with you to the town dance. I haven’t been to a dance in, oh, such a long time. Will your brother and Abe and Nate go, too?”

“Not Davis. He doesn’t get out in crowds if there’s any other place to be. Likely he’ll go play checkers with somebody who can give him a better game than he gets at home. Abe? Not likely. He won’t admit it, but he’s got a touch of the arthritis. Likely Nate will go into town with us. Not to the dance; he hasn’t decided girls are worth his time yet, but I’m pretty sure he and his buddy Jeff will go to the movies. There’s a John Wayne double feature, and he won’t miss that. Probably Jeff and his family will bring him home later.”

“A dance. Goodness, I’m looking forward to it already.”

“Me too.” Cole went silent again, but Cherilyn didn’t mind. The cool evening air, the chitter-chatter of night birds and crickets, and the anticipation of dressing up for a party was enough to fill her with pleasant contemplation.

“Oh, Miz Hoffmann will be coming tomorrow. She’ll talk your ear off, and gossip is her first name, but she turns out the best wash in the county.”

“She does the laundry?”

“Yeah, we go through a mess of work clothes ever’ week. No way this bunch of cowpokes is gonna do our own washing and keep things halfway done up. She’ll be up to wash and iron, and she’ll shine up the bathrooms and the floors while she’s at it. Good German
hausfrau
who thinks she was put on this earth to look after us poor, helpless bachelors. Nice lady.”

“But I could…”

“Don’t even want you to think of it, Cherry. You just cook and tidy up after this herd of two-legged mules. That’s more than enough.” He stopped. “Unless you’d consider sewing on about six dozen buttons that we’ve managed to pop off most of the shirts we own.”

“I can certainly do that and whatever mending you’ve got sitting around. No trouble at all.”

****

Cherilyn found the rest of the week busy but satisfying. Daytime hours filled quickly with planning, preparing, and sharing meals with the men she was coming to think of as her family. Mrs. Hoffmann came as promised, a rotund, cheerful lady who seemed fascinated with the visitor at the Witherspoon ranch. Cherilyn had no doubt by the Saturday dance word would be all over the county that Cole had a “lady friend” at the house who was making herself at home and taking over the kitchen. While the big wringer washing machine churned on the back porch, and the house filled with the smell of lye soap and blueing, Cherilyn learned the names and histories of the county families, as well as their triumphs and tragedies. She was certain whatever information she let drop while she replaced buttons and mended socks would find its way to Mrs. Hoffmann’s other clients.

Davis and Nate continued to handle the late evening dishes, leaving Cole and Cherilyn alone on the wide front porch. Abe wandered off down the path to the barn—watching out for unnatural happenings and portents of trouble, Cole said—as they sat in the starlight and listened to the night breezes. Their quiet hour together was the best time of Cherilyn’s day, and she looked forward to it through the hot afternoons. A well-informed man, Cole had strong opinions about world affairs as well as county politics. He could explain local concerns from both sides of any question and seemed pleased Cherilyn was not only interested but made an effort to inform herself about events in the area.

“I’m glad to see so many people supporting the schools here,” she told him when he’d described the recent hotly contested school board election. “The school where I taught for the last several years had to close. We just didn’t have the funds or the population to keep it open. Our school was consolidated with the schools up in the county seat. It means our youngsters have to take the school bus at six-thirty in the morning to get to class, even in bad weather, and our winters up there are brutal. It also means the teachers from our school are, for the most part, out of jobs.”

“That’s how you found that Help Wanted thing I put up? You were looking for another place to teach?”

“Yes, and I never expected anything to come of answering it. I wasn’t too sure it wasn’t a hoax of some kind.”

“No hoax, Cherry. And it’s real nice having you here. Someone bright and pretty to bring a little life to the house. Been pretty grim around here since Sylvie died.”

“It’s good for me, too. I haven’t had anyone who needed me, except my students, for a long time.”

A restful silence fell between them. Cole stood and appeared to be ready to end the day. “I’m looking forward to that dance tomorrow night, Cherry. Think we’re going to have a nice time. You have everything you need to make up something for the auction?”

“I believe I do. I’m going to bake my grandmother’s green apple cinnamon cake with the caramel icing. It takes most of a day to finish, but it’s worth it.” She felt the tips of her fingers, still sore from grating apples. “And I’m looking forward to the dance, too. I haven’t been dancing since I was just a little older than Nate.”

“Pretty girl like you, Cherry? I’d think you’d be out every night of the week.”

She chuckled. “Might have, if I’d been in a bigger town or the war hadn’t come along. About every man between eighteen and forty-five was either in service or working in some war plant a hundred miles away. No men left in my town above high school age or below grandfather status. And after the war, I had an invalid mother I couldn’t leave alone at night. She died last year, and I discovered I’d pretty much missed out on what little social life went on in our town. Not much came along to fill in my Saturday nights.”

“As of tomorrow we’ll change that, I’m thinking.” Cole had started to enter the house when Reb came up to his heels, looking hopeful. “On the back porch, fella. You’re not gonna start coming in the house this late in life. Go on, now.”

Head drooping, the huge dog lumbered down the steps and disappeared around the corner of the house. Cherilyn sympathized with Reb. She wished Cole would be a little more tolerant of house pets and worried that he might still find Arabella’s presence objectionable.

****

“And if those Witherspoons get to acting up, you just come on to my place.” Mrs. Haliday put her hand out. “It was real nice meeting you, Cherry, and good of you to share your grandma’s recipe with me. I declare, that’s a tasty cake. If you get the notion to make cooking a real job, I’d be glad to have you in the kitchen at the boarding house any time. Any time at all.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Haliday. Glad you enjoyed the cake.” Cherilyn waved as the bustling lady in the red poppy print dress moved away.

Cole strolled up carrying cold drinks. “Meeting all the ladies, I see.” He handed her a frosty bottle of Coke and took a pull from his own.

“I think your laundry lady has told the entire county that I’m visiting from ‘up north somewhere,’ and they’ve all come by to see the outlander.”

“Told you she was a talker. Miz Haliday won your cake in the auction. She tell you?”

“Told me and was so enthusiastic I wound up giving her the recipe.”

He cocked his head, listening to the sound of instruments above the chatter around them. “Sounds like the boys in the band are tuning up again. Risk your pretty little dancing shoes with another swing around the floor?”

Cherilyn gave him a mock curtsey. “I would be pleased to, Mr. Witherspoon.” The country band—just a banjo, guitar, bass, and harmonica—was far better than she had expected. The harmonica player had a good voice, as well, and the music was lively and familiar. Cole was also a bit of a surprise when they first stepped onto the dance floor. He knew the age-old country dances well and was good at them.

“I don’t know if I told you, Cherry, but tonight you look about as pretty as early morning dew on a wildflower. I know girls wear a lot of pink, but I don’t think I ever saw any girl who looked as good in it as you do.”

“Why, Cole, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think you ever noticed things like dresses, much less what color they are.”

Under his deep tan, Cherilyn saw Cole flush a little. “I don’t s’pose I ever noticed much before, but you kinda get my attention. It’s like you notice whether a critter is a heifer or a bull, but that’s all you notice unless one of them is special. Once that happens, it’s the only one you see.”

The band slowed for a quieter piece, something about lost love and lonely nights that wasn’t familiar to Cherilyn, but the melancholy tune touched her. Cole had drawn her closer and seemed to hesitate before each step.

“I’m thinking we could walk down the road a ways where it’s cooler, get away from the crowd for a minute.” His words were soft against her hair.

“It is pretty warm with everyone dancing,” Cherilyn agreed, hoping he had more than the hot night on his mind.

He took her hand and made a path for them through the dancers at the edge of the floor. As they stepped into the darkness, a fresh breeze fluttered her full skirt and teased the waves in her hair.

“It’s been a great evening, Cherry.”

“I’ve had a good time, too. Everybody is so friendly and looks like they’re having such fun.”

The road was dark, with only grey mist at the corner where the milky globes of the streetlight cast soft rays against the night.

“Just about ever’ soul in the county came out tonight. The school did pretty good, I think.”

“Looked like the auction went well,” Cherilyn agreed. They walked on in silence. “All the women in driving distance must have made something to sell. All of it good, too.” Tall grass whispered against Cole’s boots and her ballerina flats at the edge of the road. “The county’s full of pretty girls,” Cherilyn ventured. “And you’re a fine-looking man. How is it that you had to resort to a want ad to find a girl for yourself?”

“Kinda like your story, I guess. When the war came, Davis didn’t get drafted because he had the ranch to run. That exempted him from service, that and him having Sylvie and the baby. He didn’t get called up, but I was just the right age and single. Not necessary to the ranch, as far as Uncle Sam could see. So I went off to war, and by the time this Johnny came marching home, there was a passel of work needing my time and attention around the place. After Sylvie died, Davis, well, he just couldn’t get his mind straight after she was gone. By the time things settled down at home, most girls I might have taken to had found somebody else or had headed into the city for better choices. Any girl still here was too young to be legal or just not interested in me or ranch life. Time raced along and, before I knew it, Nate was all but grown, Davis had pretty well reconciled himself to single life, and I was getting older by the minute. Figgered I’d better do something or I’d wind up like Uncle Abe, batching it and getting a little more set in my ways ever’ day. I admit the want ad was pretty drastic, but I had to take a chance.”

“Drastic, maybe, but a pretty creative way to approach the problem.”

They had reached a narrow bridge and stopped to look down at the river curling below. Behind them the dance went on, but the music had faded to little more than background, a part of the swish of water, the rustle of leaves, and an occasional motor.

“You been thinking about us, Cherry? Thinking maybe we can make something good here, build a life together?”