Bombshell by Phyllis DeMarco Page A

worn collar. “Ain’t gonna be no trouble here,” he warned. “You heard the lady. Get the hell off her property.”
    The hobo ripped himself free of Earl’s grip and swore as he stormed off into the woods. The infant in Molly’s arms started to wail, and Annalee figured she was close to doing the same. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but couldn’t control the shaking of her hands. “Thank you, Earl.”
    “I ain’t gonna let no bum mess things up here.”
    “May I bring the child inside, ma’am?” Molly asked. “He’s teething and feeling fussy.”
    “Of course,” she said with a shaky nod. “You and I have to sit down and have a good chat anyway.”
    Annalee fell into a sneezing fit the second she entered the café. Seemed another half inch of dust had gathered since she first saw the place, and each speck of it was out to get her.
    Molly brushed off a table and set her baby down. “A salt water rinse and some hot peppermint tea will help you with the hay fever. I suffer from it something awful, myself.”
    Still trembling from the frightening encounter outside, Annalee occupied herself by toying with the baby’s tiny hands. “Is that some kind of a folk cure?” she asked. “Something passed down by your great-grandma?”
    “No, Doc Graham, just up the road in Fish Hook. He’s got all sorts of secret ways of fixin’ ills. And,” she added slowly, “he is the man to see when it comes to birthin’.”
    Every muscle in Annalee’s body froze. “Oh?”
    Damn it. I knew I should’ve kept right on going to Chicago...
    “I got eight,” Molly said with a sheepish grin. “If anyone ought to know the signs, it’s me. I could tell by the way you was carryin’ yourself out there that you got one on the way.”
    “How was I carrying myself?”
    “A little awkward, like you got some weight you ain’t used to carryin’ up front.” Molly raised her eyebrows, and Annalee thought she could have been quite pretty if she did some tweezing and used a little rouge. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I just reckoned you’d need a good doctor to see you through.”
    “I appreciate it. Truth be told, though, I haven’t figured out how long I’m staying in town.”
    “But what about all this? You can’t just build up a place like this and leave.”
    “That’s why I need your help,” she explained. “Whether I stay or not, you’re going to run the place for me.”
    “Oh...ma’am, I don’t think...”
    “Annalee. And yes, you can. It’s about time this town knows how clever you are,” she said. “I’d still be owner, but you’d be the brains of the operation.”
    “It just don’t feel right,” she insisted. “And won’t poor Sheriff Calaway be all broken up if you just took off?”
    “Sheriff...”
    “Earl overheard him and Calvin Stamp talkin’ the other day. He said Calvin was giving Sheriff Calaway a good ribbing about you. He’s a good man, you know. I think he really likes you.”
    “Sure, until he finds out about...this.” Annalee ran her hand down her belly and Kiddo gave her a little tickle in return. “This will break that man’s heart more than my leaving ever could.”
    “I just hope you’ll do some good, hard thinking about the matter a’fore you go runnin’ off,” Molly said. “I don’t know you all that well, but we need you here. And I think the sheriff does, too.”
    Annalee took in her words of advice and gave a thin smile. “Let’s talk decor.”
    ****
    Work began in earnest within the hour and continued well into the evening. All told, twenty-five men received pay for their labor, not including the Brown children, who picked a few weeds when they weren’t busy chasing each other.
    Annalee handed Earl and Molly ten dollars each and smiled as Molly hustled their sleepy brood to the ramshackle automobile they’d parked out back.
    “We can set and wait until you close up for the night,” Earl offered. “Gets pitch black ’round