secrets.
“It’s after three o’clock. You’re a trifle late for dinner, Jolly,” Helen told him.
“Then, by jeeters, I’ll have to stay for supper,” he said, enfolding her in a quick, bone-crushing bear hug as if it had been days instead of hours since last he’d seen her.
“Indeed,” she said when he released her, checking to make sure her cut roses hadn’t spilled from the basket. “So … what’s on your mind? You’re up to something; I can tell by the mischief in your eyes.” She smiled at him.
Shoving his straw hat back on his head, he said, “I’ll get to that, but first tell me how it went in town yesterday.” His white eyebrows lifted questioningly.
“Why, it went okay,” Helen said, continuing to smile. “Just fine.” She saw no reason to burden this kindhearted man who worried about her far too much as it was. “Really.”
“You sure, child?” He looked skeptical. “I know they’ve all heard about the Yankee being out here. Did anybody mention him to you?”
“Not a soul,” she said with complete honesty, failing to further add that no one said a word to her. Period.
“Well, you have any trouble, you tell old Jolly. I won’t hold still for anybody giving my girl a hard time. Why, when I was a young man, I called out a fellow for—”
“I know,” Helen interrupted, having heard the story of the infamous Spanish Fort duel many times before. “There’s not going to be any trouble, so relax.” She tweaked his left ear. “And promise me you won’t be fighting any duels to defend my honor.”
“I promise. But anybody gets smart with you, just you tell me and I’ll—”
“What brings you over here this afternoon with that devilish gleam in your eyes?” she again interrupted, anxious to get him onto another subject.
Jolly grinned, looked about to make sure they were alone. “Where’s the captain?”
“I would imagine he’s down at the corral currying that big sorrel thoroughbred,” Helen said. “He spends every free moment there.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“If Charlie isn’t lying listlessly on the settee under the live oak, he’s sitting on the back stoop of the quarters.” She sighed wearily. “That poor little boy. I’m afraid it’s quite hopeless.”
His smile back in place and as bright as the May sunshine, Jolly scolded, “Why, Helen Burke Courtney, you know better than that. There’s not a single one of God’s own children that’s in a hopeless fix. Least of all a golden-haired little boy.”
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ve tried to draw Charlie out, honest I have. I’m sure his father has as well, but …” she shrugged.
Jolly hooted at her pessimism. “Why, what the devil do you two know about handling five-year-old boys? Not a damned thing. Just you leave it to me. I’ll have that child laughing and talking a blue streak within a week.” He bobbed his head for emphasis. “In two he’ll be as rowdy as me.”
Helen smiled fondly at the white-haired man who was so dear. “Well, Mr. Wizard, if you can actually perform such an unlikely miracle, I’ll never doubt you again.”
Confidently, “You just be thinking about what you’re going to feed this wise old sorcerer for supper and I’ll get to work.”
“Fair enough,” said Helen. She took his arm and walked with him to the back gate, where he left her, winked, and headed for the barn.
Helen stood for a moment, wondering what he had up his sleeve. Hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he learned, as he soon would, that Charlie Northway would prove immune even to the persuasive charms of a lovable, outlandish man-child like Jolly Grubbs.
Jolly whistled happily as he strode down to the barn. He caught sight of Charlie sitting alone on the stoop and called out a warm hello. Charlie looked at him but didn’t answer.
“Your pappy here, Charlie?” Jolly inquired.
Charlie refused to speak.
Undaunted, Jolly called, “Captain Northway, you
“It’s after three o’clock. You’re a trifle late for dinner, Jolly,” Helen told him.
“Then, by jeeters, I’ll have to stay for supper,” he said, enfolding her in a quick, bone-crushing bear hug as if it had been days instead of hours since last he’d seen her.
“Indeed,” she said when he released her, checking to make sure her cut roses hadn’t spilled from the basket. “So … what’s on your mind? You’re up to something; I can tell by the mischief in your eyes.” She smiled at him.
Shoving his straw hat back on his head, he said, “I’ll get to that, but first tell me how it went in town yesterday.” His white eyebrows lifted questioningly.
“Why, it went okay,” Helen said, continuing to smile. “Just fine.” She saw no reason to burden this kindhearted man who worried about her far too much as it was. “Really.”
“You sure, child?” He looked skeptical. “I know they’ve all heard about the Yankee being out here. Did anybody mention him to you?”
“Not a soul,” she said with complete honesty, failing to further add that no one said a word to her. Period.
“Well, you have any trouble, you tell old Jolly. I won’t hold still for anybody giving my girl a hard time. Why, when I was a young man, I called out a fellow for—”
“I know,” Helen interrupted, having heard the story of the infamous Spanish Fort duel many times before. “There’s not going to be any trouble, so relax.” She tweaked his left ear. “And promise me you won’t be fighting any duels to defend my honor.”
“I promise. But anybody gets smart with you, just you tell me and I’ll—”
“What brings you over here this afternoon with that devilish gleam in your eyes?” she again interrupted, anxious to get him onto another subject.
Jolly grinned, looked about to make sure they were alone. “Where’s the captain?”
“I would imagine he’s down at the corral currying that big sorrel thoroughbred,” Helen said. “He spends every free moment there.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“If Charlie isn’t lying listlessly on the settee under the live oak, he’s sitting on the back stoop of the quarters.” She sighed wearily. “That poor little boy. I’m afraid it’s quite hopeless.”
His smile back in place and as bright as the May sunshine, Jolly scolded, “Why, Helen Burke Courtney, you know better than that. There’s not a single one of God’s own children that’s in a hopeless fix. Least of all a golden-haired little boy.”
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ve tried to draw Charlie out, honest I have. I’m sure his father has as well, but …” she shrugged.
Jolly hooted at her pessimism. “Why, what the devil do you two know about handling five-year-old boys? Not a damned thing. Just you leave it to me. I’ll have that child laughing and talking a blue streak within a week.” He bobbed his head for emphasis. “In two he’ll be as rowdy as me.”
Helen smiled fondly at the white-haired man who was so dear. “Well, Mr. Wizard, if you can actually perform such an unlikely miracle, I’ll never doubt you again.”
Confidently, “You just be thinking about what you’re going to feed this wise old sorcerer for supper and I’ll get to work.”
“Fair enough,” said Helen. She took his arm and walked with him to the back gate, where he left her, winked, and headed for the barn.
Helen stood for a moment, wondering what he had up his sleeve. Hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he learned, as he soon would, that Charlie Northway would prove immune even to the persuasive charms of a lovable, outlandish man-child like Jolly Grubbs.
Jolly whistled happily as he strode down to the barn. He caught sight of Charlie sitting alone on the stoop and called out a warm hello. Charlie looked at him but didn’t answer.
“Your pappy here, Charlie?” Jolly inquired.
Charlie refused to speak.
Undaunted, Jolly called, “Captain Northway, you
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