Cottonwood Whispers Read online

  Daddy’s head drooped and then slowly, wearily descended onto Momma’s hands. I watched guiltily as Momma put her head down onto his, and when I realized they were both crying softly, I ran off, feeling like a traitorous sneak. I couldn’t remember ever seeing my daddy cry.

  We were in more trouble than I’d realized, that summer on the Lassiter farm, and I was filled with rage toward the Hadleys. After all, they were the reason my daddy was feeling so distraught. They were the reason my Gemma was suffering. And they were the reason Mr. Poe was sitting, disillusioned and heartbroken, in a dirty jail cell. Anger started to creep into my heart like the ivy that choked the trees in the cemetery, and I started to head instinctively toward the meadow, desperate to see Luke.

  But it struck me that Luke would be at the factory this Monday morning, and I made my way down the road at a much slower pace, thinking too much for my own good and wondering where I would go now. I was angry and sullen, and I wanted to take my anger out on something, anything.

  It was unfortunate that Joel Hadley’s car came down the road at that moment.

  It was unfortunate because I could feel the heat creep up the back of my neck, and I knew that I was about to say a lot of things I would later regret. I may have grown up some bit in the last years, but I was still not so smart about taking stock of things before I said them.

  “You seen Gemma?” he asked me as he pulled his car to the side of the road without any sort of greeting. “Ain’t seen her for work today.”

  “I don’t need to talk to nobody about Gemma. Gemma can do her own talkin’.”

  “Seems to me you can do plenty of talkin’. I ain’t never known you to shut up.”

  “I said I ain’t gonna do no talkin’ about Gemma. You want to ask her somethin’, you ask her yourself.”

  “Well, that’s gonna be kind of hard seein’ as how she ain’t around.” He opened the door of his fancy car and stood up to lean on it all cool and casual, and I was certain he’d gotten that pose from the cigarette ad hanging in Parker Hayes’s tobacco shop. “Now, here’s what I want you to do,” he said like he was talking to a three-year-old. “You go on home like a good little girl, and you find Gemma, and you tell her we’re waitin’ for her to get on down to work.” He blew out a long stream of smoke. “You think you can do that all by yourself?”

  “There’ll be snowballs in hades before I do anythin’ you tell me, Joel Hadley,” I spat back.

  “Funny you should mention hell, seein’ as how you’ll fit in right nice there.”

  I had a sore spot about hell because I was afraid I’d end up there since I’d never really believed in God and the Scriptures like my momma, daddy, and Gemma did. I didn’t want to end up in the burning hellfire Pastor had preached about, and I didn’t take kindly to hearing a man like Joel predicting I’d spend eternity there.

  I stared at him for a good thirty seconds and then eased up alongside his car, running my hand along the back of it. “This sure is a pretty car,” I said slowly. “It’s a good thing you didn’t kill Callie Colby with this one. Would’ve been a shame to mess up a treasure like this.”

  The minute I said it, my heart started to flutter like it had wings. Only it didn’t feel anything like it did when I was with Luke.

  Joel Hadley pulled his cigarette away in mid-drag and clapped eyes on me that were filled with a mixture of fear and hatred. I watched him toss the rest of his cigarette onto the ground with one fierce motion and strut toward me like a prowling lion. “What did you say?” he asked in just above a whisper.

  I didn’t say anything in reply, and all I could wonder was why, if I was to lose my ability to speak, I had to wait until after I’d let Joel Hadley know that I knew what horrible thing he’d done. I was sure Gemma was going to kill me.

  If Joel didn’t finish the job for her first.

  He came to a stop only when his toes touched mine, and though I was gripped by a sudden fear, I forced myself to meet his enraged gaze.

  “You accusin’ me of somethin’, girl?”

  The very nearness of him infuriated me. I didn’t like to be put upon by anyone, especially not arrogant men with big heads and nasty reputations, and my anger overtook my fear in one fell swoop.

  “Dang right I’m accusin’ you,” I said hoarsely. “I’m accusin’ you of plenty. And I’m tellin’ you right now, Joel Hadley, if the both of us are gonna end up in hell, I’ll take comfort knowin’ you’ll make it there first, hangin’ from the end of a rope.”

  The image of him swinging from his neck made him sick inside. I could see it in his eyes that were only inches away from my own. But he grabbed my arm in a grip that was stronger than I’d ever imagined and returned my stare, looking angry enough to kill. Despite the possibility that he might be inclined to do just that, I hadn’t the sense to shut up.

  “You may think you’ve got one on me and Gemma, but evil deeds are always found out, and someday you’re gonna pay for killin’ that little girl.” I dug a finger into his chest because I knew it was just the kind of thing that infuriated my daddy, and I wanted nothing more than to push every button in Joel Hadley’s body. “You best look over your shoulder every minute of every day, because one day, when you least expect it, they’re gonna come lookin’ for you. One day you’ll hear loud voices, and you’ll look behind you and see a crowd of men comin’ toward you. Angry men. Carryin’ ropes and guns and lookin’ for blood to pay for Callie’s that was spilled all over the road that night. They’ll be comin’ for you. And they won’t be listenin’ to pretty excuses and angry denials. All they’ll be comin’ for is to break your skinny little neck.”

  All of the rage I’d felt over the past week had come pouring out in that one reckless speech, and despite the fact that I knew I could face desperate consequences for it, I felt a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. Just then, I didn’t care what happened to me, so long as Joel Hadley paid for what he’d done.

  “I ought to kill you,” he whispered loudly, the break in his voice betraying his fear. He put a hand up to my neck. “I ought to squeeze the life right out of you.”

  Joel’s sweaty hand flooded my mind with memories of that horrifying day four years ago when I’d felt Walt Blevins’s hand on my neck because he hated me and my family for taking in Gemma. I knew what it was like to have someone squeezing the life out of me, and I never wanted to feel like that again. Walt Blevins had tried to kill me because I’d accused him of being the bigoted coward that he was, and here I was being threatened again for accusing another coward.

  In my head, I could hear my mother saying, “Jessilyn Lassiter, one day that blunt tongue of yours is gonna break your momma’s heart.” I knew what she’d meant when she’d said it. She was afraid I’d pay a terrible price for confronting people to their faces, but the way I saw it, an evil man ought to be told that’s what he is. I figured maybe God had given me just the sort of words to do it.

  I stared right at Joel even though my heart pounded into my throat. “Then you’ll swing for two killin’s,” I managed to say without my voice shaking.

  Joel hesitated and then pulled his nervous hand back, his entire face and body betraying the fear my accusations had raised in him. He turned away from me, and I used the chance to bend over slightly, hoping a good strong breath would make my knees stop shaking. When he turned around, he was tugging at the open collar of his shirt, sweat beading on his forehead. I stood up straight to face him and watched as he methodically raised his hand and pointed at me.

  “You think you’re gonna go around town makin’ wrong accusations against me, Jessilyn Lassiter, you got another think comin’.”

  “I ain’t makin’ wrong accusations.”

  “You think you’re all smart and know more’n everybody else. But you ain’t,” he said, using that pointing finger of his to jab in my direction with each word. “And I’m tellin’ you, if you start spreadin’ rumors, I’ll make good and sure you pay.”

  “You threatenin’ me again?�
��

  He took a few steps closer and it was all I could do to keep from taking a few steps back. But I stood my ground as he moved within five feet of me and put his hands firmly onto his hips.

  “Seems to me your daddy’s got some accounts to settle,” he said.

  The mention of my daddy made my blood run cold. “You leave my daddy out of this,” I demanded. “This is between you and me.”

  “No you don’t, girl. You don’t get to make all the rules.” He raised that active finger of his again and jabbed it in the air toward me. “Now you listen here. I got me more power than you think I got, and I’m tellin’ you right now, you best think twice if you want your daddy keepin’ that farm of his.”

  “I said you leave my daddy out of this.” My mouth was dry, every muscle in my body tensed, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  Joel ignored me with a shrug and made his way back to his car with a forced swagger. “Ain’t me who’s bringin’ him into it; it’s you and all your crazy talk.” He climbed back into that car of his and flashed me a Cheshire cat grin. “You have a good day now, you hear?”

  I watched him drive off, my eyes watering from the dust he kicked up in my direction, and I knew from my fingers to my toes that bad things were right around the corner. One more time I’d gone and opened my mouth when I should have kept it sewn up, and now I’d stepped in it something good.

  I let my weak knees buckle now that Joel couldn’t see and leaned against a nearby aspen. Sliding down onto my backside, I tucked my knees up against my chest and stared at the silvery leaves above my head. A steady breeze had picked up, shaking those leaves into a whispery chorus, almost as though they were talking to me. They’d be telling me I was stupid, I figured, and whispering warnings of the bad things that were in store for my family. Because there was no doubt that I’d brought ruin to us all with my loose lips.

  Even the trees knew it was true.

  Chapter 12

  I was only four years old when Gemma and her parents came to live on our farm, but from that first day, I liked her better than any child I’d ever known. Mostly I’d stayed away from other kids. They were noisy and irritating and didn’t want to play the same things I wanted to. The way I saw it, I was better off doing things on my own.

  But with Gemma, it was different. Even though she was two years older than me, she’d made me comfortable right from the start. She had a fiery nature like me, though she wasn’t as eager to tell people what she thought as I was. She’d tell me, though, in no uncertain terms. If she didn’t like what I was doing, she’d tell me so and give me a good shove to finish off with.

  Times hadn’t changed much, I was thinking as I watched Gemma’s face that evening after I’d confronted Joel Hadley. It was just as much a tangled mess of fury and despair as she could muster when we were children, except there was a level to it that we’d never reached before. I’d told her about my run-in with Joel, and as we stood there in the shade of Daddy’s gazebo, I braced myself for the shove I figured was coming my way.

  “Jessilyn Lassiter,” she growled, her face scrunched up beyond recognition, “I swear I ain’t never goin’ to tell you nothin’ again in my whole life. You realize what you done got us into?” She took two steps toward me, her hands balled into tight fists, and repeated, “Do you?”

  “Gemma, I didn’t mean to—”

  “‘Gemma, I didn’t meant to,’” she mocked. “Same as what you say every time you go shootin’ your mouth off without thinkin’. For a girl who don’t mean to all the time, you sure do manage to cause a lot of trouble.”

  I didn’t bother saying anything else at that moment. I just stood there biting my lip, waiting for her to lay into me some more. I was feeling like I’d eaten my worthy share of crow, and I stood by passively waiting for my just desserts to follow. But the minute she gave me her next angry words, I stopped being so humble.

  “You think you’re all grown-up,” she seethed. “All grown-up. And you can’t even keep your mouth shut about important things. You ain’t nothin’ but a baby, Jessilyn. Never will be.”

  Now she’d done it. Now she’d gone and plucked my nerves, and I wasn’t feeling so much like taking what she dished out anymore.

  “Don’t you go callin’ me things, Gemma Teague,” I shot back, my body stiff with rage. “Don’t you dare go callin’ me a baby, tellin’ me I ain’t actin’ grown-up. How grown-up is it for a girl of nineteen to go wooin’ a man who ain’t got no more interest in marryin’ a poor colored girl than he’s got in doin’ an honest day’s work?”

  I backed up a step since Gemma’s face twisted into a look I’d never seen before. One that seemed to speak of violent things.

  “Ain’t no time I ever said nothin’ about that boy marryin’ me,” she said in a whisper laced with poison. “Ain’t no time. He ain’t nothin’ but my boss.”

  “You kept company with him much as you could. What’s that tell you? Does that say you wanted him to be nothin’ but your boss?”

  “What I want is none of your business.”

  I recoiled at the tone in her voice, and for the first time that summer I felt the full effect of Gemma’s strangeness. It was starting to eat right into my soul, and all my anger melted into fear that I was witnessing the beginning of the end of Gemma and Jessilyn. “Once was a time you wanted all your business to be my business,” I murmured. “Lord knows, ain’t never been no time I didn’t want my business to be yours.”

  Gemma put her head down and stared at her feet. “Guess times can change.”

  I could’ve sworn my heart dropped from my chest to my feet when I heard those words come from my best friend’s mouth. I’d never thought to see the day she’d push me out of her life.

  “You want me done with you, Gemma?” I asked, my voice cracking in dismay. “You sayin’ that?”

  Gemma just stood there staring at her shoes, keeping me in suspense all the while. Then she lifted her head without looking me in the eye and said, “I’m sayin’ I can’t be friends with someone I can’t trust.”

  “Gemma . . .”

  “I trusted you!” she cried, finally meeting my gaze. “Now I’m gonna lose my job, and your daddy’s gonna lose his farm, and all because you can’t keep your mouth shut.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Uh-uh!” she muttered. “Uh-uh! Ain’t no way I can trust you never again.”

  Then she turned away from me and walked back through the field, the weeds slapping her legs as she went. I watched her go, my heart breaking with each step she took. There was no strength left in my legs, but I willed myself to turn away. I couldn’t watch her go without feeling sick to my stomach, and the only thing I could think of was to find someone who still cared for me, who’d tell me that everything would be all right. I thought of Momma and Daddy, but they’d gone into town.

  I grabbed my swirling stomach and staggered toward the only other place I could think to go.

  Luke’s.

  But I didn’t make it there before I crossed paths with Buddy Pernell. He was busy patching the roof to his daddy’s shed, but he stopped cold, his hammer ready to strike a nail, and smiled down at me.

  “Hey there, Jessie,” he said kindly, almost too kindly. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  Rumor had it Buddy had been crushing on me since the summer I’d turned thirteen, and I’d spent a good bit of time avoiding him because of it. Back in that summer Buddy had been a wild boy, and he’d nearly drowned me in the swimming hole on my birthday. But his daddy had taken a firm hand with him from that time, and even I had to admit he’d grown up just fine. I figured he had a guilty conscience over nearly killing me, which any boy with some sense would, but the way he catered to me was something silly to my mind.

  Momma had always insisted I let him be nice to me. “He’s just tryin’ to clear a guilty conscience, Jessilyn,” she’d said to me all those years ago when Buddy had started fussing over me. “When a body sincerely wants to make amends, you ought to let him. It�
�s just Buddy’s way, is all.”

  “Hey there, Buddy,” I said with as much a smile as I could muster.

  Buddy climbed down his ladder and hopped past the last two rungs. “You got that sad look about you, Jessie,” he said, dropping his hammer and wiping his hands on his pants. “You got problems?”

  “Just things, is all. Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

  “Well now, it seems a body’s got to talk about things when they’re worryin’ her mind. Sure enough, I know that feelin’. If you got things to say, you can say ’em to me.”

  There was no doubt I had things to say, but I wanted to say them to Luke Talley, not Buddy Pernell. But his face was as sincere as it could be, and I was dying to talk to someone. I stared at Buddy for a minute, wondering at the wisdom of telling him about me and Gemma.

  “Got some fresh-made lemonade inside,” he told me, nodding toward the house. “Why don’t you set yourself on down and have somethin’ to cool yourself off with. Then, if you feel like talkin’, you can talk. All right?”

  I hesitated a second and then nodded. I couldn’t deny that a tall glass of lemonade sounded like heaven to my parched mouth, so I made my way to the Pernells’ shaded porch and sat in a squeaky rocker.

  The two of us sat there sipping our lemonade for the next ten minutes. I didn’t say a word, but Buddy said enough for both of us, talking about all the chores that needed done around their house and how he was looking forward to fall, when he wouldn’t have to be doing so much hard work in the heat.

  Then after I’d finished my last sip of lemonade, he set his glass down on the worn floorboards and asked, “You and Gemma in a fight?”

  I lowered my glass slowly and eyed Buddy, wondering when he’d become a gypsy fortune-teller. “What’s that you’re sayin’?” I asked hesitantly.