Maureen

WHEN Davis came in, Grace was heating coffee and Cy was seated at the kitchen table.

"Just in time," Grace said brightly. "Glad you're home earlier than expected. How about supper? Our next boss is here to share it with us."

Davis slumped into a chair and shook his head slowly. "Brother, what a day...."

Cy looked closely at Davis' tight, pale face. "Say," he said, sitting forward. "You don't look too hot."

"Man, I'm down, 'way down," Davis said.

"What's the matter with you?"

Davis shook his head. "Gimme a stiff drink and hurry. I need it."

Grace poured bonded whiskey into a shot glass. Davis tossed it off neat, then cleared his throat and glanced at them. "Jake Jonas and Les Corey are both dead."

There was a long silence, broken at last by Grace. "Do you want to be begged? Talk."

"They got out of the hospital this morning. Seems that some of Jake's supporters advised him to with draw from the race and, according to Glenn Baxter, Jake went off his rocker. Threatened to kill Cy on sight, also Buck Farrell-but actually Jake blamed everything on Corey...." Davis shrugged. "Glenn tried to get Jake to go back to the hospital. Jake, looking crazier than ever, said he would rather go home. Instead, he drove to the club. No one saw him go in but some of the help heard the shots. They went in the back room to find Les Corey breathing his last and Jake stone-cold. Jake must have shot Les in the chest, then Les drilled one right between Jake's eyes." Davis shrugged again. "That's the whole story in a nutshell."

Grace uttered a coarse word that gave Cy a delighted thrill and shocked Davis. "If that's all that happened," she asked, "what are you so upset about? Looks like a lot of trouble has been saved for everyone concerned."

"Damn, you're a cold-hearted heifer," said Davis unbelievingly. He turned to Cy, some color coming back into his face. "Fleur's really got it good. I drove over to the club with Bob Jones, the head deputy. He wanted me to help, even though I no longer have official status. Naturally, we saw Fleur and questioned her. She not only gets the business, but something like fifty thousand in cash. She and Les had insurance on each other."

"Hmm," said Cy. "Did she seem happy to talk to you?"

Davis blushed. "Well, I guess so. Unless I'm just flattering myself. I was pretty soft on her once. And my soft spots don't harden very easy."

"In that case, I'd push it. I know for a fact that Fleur would be willing to listen."

"You don't say!" Davis chuckled and handed the glass to Grace. "Fill it, please," he said. Then he winked at Cy. "You wouldn't mind having a wealthy head deputy, would you?"

"Nope-Sheriff Wilde can be as rich as he likes." Davis blinked stupidly. "What is that?" Grace handed him the drink, nearly spilling it. "I heard Cy and so did you," she shrilled excitedly. "Just make him tell you what he's talking about." They gazed at Cy expectantly. "As you both know," he told them, "this sheriff thing was something I agreed only under protest to try. People were twisting my arm and saying it was my bounden duty and I was the one to reform things. And I accepted because Jonas was not the man for the job. But things have changed. Jonas is dead." Cy spread his hands. "If I withdraw in favor of you, Davis, no one will complain. Who knows the job better, or is more enthusiastic about taking it on? Anyway, I've already made other plans for my life." Cy got to his feet. "Will you accept my offer, man?"

"Hell, yes," Grace said instantly. Davis was looking at his hands. "I'll have to think about it," he said carefully.

"I'll accept for him," said Grace. "You lost your mind, Davis? If you turn it down, I'll take the job myself."

Cy looked at her soberly. "I have different work in mind for you," he said.

The lambent fire that leaped into her eyes made Cy's heart pound.

"Think about it, Davis," he said as he walked out.

Back home, Cy handed his horse to Bush Hawg Farrell, a tall, slender nephew of Buck's, whom the latter was grooming to take over certain chores.

Buck sauntered out of the barn and eyed Cy critically. "Man, you look tired."

"I am," said Cy shortly, loosening the saddle cinch. "Where's Dad?"

"I think he's over to Mr. Clarke's. Called and said he might be up all night playin' poker."

Cy nodded. "Tell Aunt Violet to make me a big sandwich. Milk on the side. When they've settled in my stomach, let's get drunk."

Buck laughed deep in his chest "You've got a head of steam to cool."

"Been a long day, man. A long, hot day."

"Heard about Sheriff Jonas and that Corey character. They've simplified a lot of things."

"How true," Cy said. "Look, I'm pulling out in favor of Davis Wilde. I hope that rests well with you."

Buck thought about it. "I know you don't like that sheriffing idea none. Don't much blame you. I was in favor of you sticking it out, but I'll admit this double killing changes things some."

"A lot," Cy said. "I'm not needed any more, don't you see? Davis will do a good job, an honest job."

"I guess that's true. So go ahead and withdraw, I'd say."

Cy nodded. "I'm going to sit on the front gallery."

"Mamma will take care of the eatin'. I'll bring a bottle."

Cy ate hugely of two roast pork sandwiches. The meat was thick, tender and tasty. He washed it down with a quart of cold milk and as a result the hot, heady hum the bottle of Bradshers usually delivered was hard come by. Taut and tingling, Cy argued with Buck about inconsequential things, then announced his intentions to visit Lady Bergstrom.

"You sure that's where you're going?" asked Buck. "I thought you just came from there."

The announced visit was all that Cy had had in mind, but he felt strangely guilty. Blushing, he made a swipe at Buck who ducked and ran laughing through the house. "You want your horse or the car?" Buck asked from a safe distance.

"Car," Cy yelled in return.

Lady met him on the veranda of the big, old mansion. "Brother, you sure been settin' grass fires. Grace called a while ago to tell me the news. What I'm interested in, though, is what she didn't tell me."

"What is it she didn't tell you?" asked Cy.

"How the hell should I know?" Lady responded. "Come in and have a drink. I guess that double killin' really set things up for you."

They marched into the house, making for the library. "You can call off the barbecue now," Cy said. "I'm out of this sheriff thing."

"Not on your life," Lady barked. "Lula, bring drinkin' tools," she called down the hallway. She sat down on a leather couch, motioning Cy into a chair.

"Now look here, Cy. Don't try to stop that barbecue. That will be a good time for you to get up and thank all the folks for their support. Then go ahead and tell them that you're pulling out in favor of Davis Wilde. I aim to have myself hog-heaven at that barbecue and you can't stop me." She closed an eye owlishly. "You can announce your engagement at the same time."

"What engagement?" Cy asked innocently.

"What engagement, my big fat behind! Don't you know that when a woman has been loved to within an inch of her life, another woman, one with sense and savvy, can tell it even over a phone? You oughta look at yourself. You still look a little stony-eyed."

"I ought to run for sheriff just in order to lock you up," Cy said severely. "You know too much."

"I had better be matron of honor," Lady snorted. "Now why don't you go home and get some sleep? You need it."

Cy needed it, but he did not get it. He went home, took two more drinks, gave the ubiquitous Buck a nervous good night and went to bed. He turned and tossed, reliving a technicolor spectacular of his life, beginning with the accidental baring of Fleur's captivating rear. Cy was a little taken aback to realize that his time had been devoted so extensively to rapid transit from one bed to another. Some of the affairs had been one-night stands; others-and these the majority-had been emotionally rewarding adventures which had occasionally produced mild displays of fireworks upon conclusion, but not a single word of hatred. Cy was smart enough to realize that this had required a delicate touch. He congratulated himself, and at last fell asleep.

A couple of mornings later, at about eleven, Cy succumbed to the impulse to take a swim in the north branch. That he chose the deep, cold pool directly below Maureen's "castle" was a mere coincidence, he told himself and was then forced to laugh. He undressed under a thick curtain of elder bushes and took a long, slanting dive into the water. He had assured himself that she was not in the cabin and the shock of seeing her walk to the edge of the creek was the kind of surprise Cy liked. Maureen was as nude as a peeled egg, the sun playing on her lusciously buttered skin.

With a graceful motion, Maureen trotted to the bank and rose into the air, her body an excitingly curved javelin. She slipped into the water and swam toward him. Reaching his side, she submerged and stroked his body with her own, her solid, bud-tipped breasts drawing twin trails of fire along his skin. Then her face burst from the water, her parted lips sweetly smiling.

"I was hoping you'd come," the girl said throatily. "I had a hunch that you would." A hard rigor rippled through her hips and with a sigh she encircled his neck with her arms. Opening her thighs, she sought him with blind, but effective accuracy. Her face twisted for a moment in a grimace of unendurable joy, a joy so agonizing that those wonderful ivory thighs gripped Cy with convulsive intensity.

They were only a few paces from the water-washed, mossy bank. Cy braced himself against it and pulled her on top of him. Then his strength helped her to weather the tumult of scalding bliss that showered them both, that flung them through rapids, thence into calm, untroubled waters. Maureen, recovering, wept quietly and clutched Cy with muscles that twitched and trembled.

Some time later they lay in the dark back room of the castle, their bodies satiated.

"I suppose you know that I'm leaving for college soon," the girl said, rubbing her feather-soft nose against Cy's chin. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

"I want to see you take advantage of your wonderful talent."

"You'll miss me?"

"Maureen-how can you ask me that? You mean more to me than I can ever explain."

"Will you visit me sometimes?"

"Often, unless it poses some problem we can't solve."

She clung closely to him. "We can find a way. People can solve a problem if they want to. It's only when they pose greater problems in trying to solve a lesser one that they blunder."

It was a long time before Cy realized fully what she meant.

"I suppose," he said, "that you're trying to tell me it will be better this way than if we marry."

"Much better, dear Cy. You can marry that white woman-that Grace of yours. She's pretty. She'll give you fine children, and you can hold up your head."

Cy was astounded.

"Then you know!"

"Of course I know. The bushes have ears. And field hands have eyes. You palefaces can't get away with a thing around here-" Her silvery laugh was merry enough, yet undertoned with a sadness that cut Cy Scott to the heart.

"But you still want to see me, Maureen?"

"Why not?"

"Suppose you meet another man? Suppose you find a husband of your own? You should, you know-"

"I have nothing like that in mind," Maureen assured him, compressing her beautifully chiseled lips until they formed a grim line. "I intend to concentrate on my art. If I don't make the grade as an artist, then I'll teach."

Cy clutched her tenderly to him, kissed her fragrant hair. Guilt and conscience were flagellating him. This wonderful girl, this Maureen ... Was she less entitled to love and marriage than Grace? How could he wed either one and leave the other without a husband?

Lying in his compassionate arms, Maureen sighed. Unbidden, the image of that handsome Buck Farrell had come into her mind. He seemed to be sneering at her. She wondered what he would think of all this.

Cy Scott was sitting on the veranda with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. At his elbow sat Buck Farrell, similarly armed. Steven Scott had had his last drink and gone to bed.

"Man," observed Buck at length, "you're awfully quiet tonight."

Cy nodded in the dark, feeling closer than ever to his companion. "I've got a man-sized job on my hands, Buck. It will take plenty of this, that and the other to make it work."

"Cy, I've known you a long time. I daresay that whatever it takes to do a job, you've got it, I can't remember ever having seen you fail."

"Just hearing you talk makes me feel better."

Buck chuckled. "That's the way it goes. When's the event?"

"Soon ... No hurry."

"That's the wisest attitude to take. We'll all be around a long time, God willing."

Cy shook the empty bottle critically. "Think you could rustle up some more drinking materials?"

"Sure, if you can switch to local corn. I fetched a couple of jugs yesterday. Out here on the veranda?"

"Yes. I don't want to move for a long time."

Buck brought ice, mixers, and a glass fruit jar full of com lightning.

Cy made a drink for himself and one for Buck. "Maureen's going to college."

If there existed a subject Buck did not particularly care to discuss, here it was. He tried to keep his voice from shaking. "I heard tell," he said shortly.

"Yeah ... Well, I want you to do me a favor."

"I aim to please."

"She'll need someone to go down to Lakeland and get her set up. If she can't find a place to stay ... I mean, if the dormitories are all full, you could help her find an apartment."

Buck was silent for a long moment. "I suppose I could do that."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic."

"Do I have to?"

"Have to what?"

"Talk about it?"

"Why not?"

"I'm just not feelin' up to it tonight," said Buck. Jumping up, he walked through the door leading to the kitchen. Cy's amazed eyes followed the big Negro. Well, I'll be damned, Cy thought. What the hell is bugging that guy?

Buck went to bed in the small cottage behind the house and for a long time he wrestled with his problem. It had been hard to swallow Maureen's affair with Cy, but at least he had been able to clap eyes on her now and then, exchange a few words. And if harm had threatened he had been around to protect her. But now she would be gone-perhaps forever, who knew? How would he be able to stand it?

Buck could not discuss the matter with Cy; neither could Buck get it out of his bursting heart. He slipped out of bed, woke his mother and poured his troubles into her wise ears.

When he had finished, she slowly stoked her pipe. Then she spoke.

"You're the only son I got and Lord knows you're the only one I ever wanted. That's why I hate to see you troubled. I realize how that gal feels about Cy, because I felt the same way about his daddy-and I still do. But I had sense enough to get a man of my own. You see, son, the colored always try to reach high. A white man sometimes can seem plenty high-leastways, to young Negro girls. They're full of ginger and hot blood. Think you can turn the tide around? Get Maureen to look at you?"

"No," said Buck somberly. "If I thought so, I wouldn't have awakened you."

"Now, there's one person who might help you through to daylight. Maybe it won't do no good, but it sure won't do no harm. Go see Lady Bergstrom. She's seen everything, knows everything. And she's a friend to all."

Buck patted Violet's amply fleshed shoulder. "I've been thinking just that," he said softly. "I bet she could give me some advice."

"You bet your sweet life," said Violet.

Lady Bergstrom was eating breakfast the next morning when Lula came in with a fresh pot of coffee. "Buck Farrell wants to see you," she said.

Lady looked up with a quick, darting motion. "Buck? Well, dammit, bring him in!"

"In here?" asked Lula, who plainly did not approve.

"What's the matter? Aren't workingmen elegant enough for you? He can have coffee with me. You stay the hell out. If Buck wants to see me, he must have something weighty on his mind."

A few moments later, Buck came in by way of the kitchen door, his face sheened with sweat his hands mauling his big hat.

"Sit down and have a cup of coffee, Buck."

"Mornin', Mrs. Bergstrom. No coffee, thank you, ma'am. I reckon I should be shot for bustin' in on you like this."

Lady's sharp eyes softened. "You're perfectly welcome here, Buck. Any hour of the day or night. Sit down, won't you?"

Buck perched himself on the edge of a chair.

"I got a thing I'd like to tell you, ma'am." Buck gulped. "I-I find it hard to talk about...."

"Maybe I can help. Does it have to do with Cy?"

Buck started. "Did my mother call you?"

"No. Should she have?"

Buck mopped the sweat from his face. "It would be just like her to advise me to tell you something, then call and tell first."

"Then it is about Cy. Have he and Grace had a falling-out?"

"No'm. Nothing like that." Buck sighed gustily.

Lady, with a shrewd guess, abruptly brought matters to a head. "Does it concern Maureen? Maureen and Cy?"

Buck's eyes popped, and he gulped for air like a windblown horse.

"Are you in love with Maureen?"

At this, Buck hung his head and sweat poured from the back of his neck. After a while, he answered, "Yes'm, I guess you could say I am."

Lady sat back and stared at the big man for a long moment. "When did it happen, Buck?"

"Not too long ago. She just grew up on me overnight." He raised his head. "You see, I came upon her swimming one day...." He stopped, his face full of embarrassment.

"That must have been a sight," said Lady with conviction. "I'm with you so far. Go ahead."

"I fell in love with her right there and then."

Lady nodded. "What man wouldn't?"

"Yes-but before I could get around to telling her how I felt, someone else stepped in and took right over." Buck stopped and mopped his face.

"I see," Lady said. "And you couldn't tell Cy about it because he's your friend, practically your brother."

"That's right, ma'am. And now Maureen is going away."

Lady frowned and thrust a long, dark cigarette into a holder. "It appears that all your concern is for him. What about her?"

Buck shrugged. "Suppose Cy did step out of the picture? Why would Maureen fall for me? I'm just a farm boy, even if I did go to college. A black farm boy, at that," he finished bitterly.

"Maureen is too fine not to know fineness in another. Suppose we talked to Cy, got him to give her up. That would at least give you a chance to learn whether or not she could love you."

"I don't know," Buck objected. "If she knew I asked Cy to back off, she would always hold it against me."

"No reason on earth she should find out."

"I don't want to trick Maureen," Buck said, "and I don't want to cut Cy out of anything."

Lady snorted. "Loyalty is fine, but there is such a thing as being loyal to oneself as well as to others-on that you can rely. I think that you should speak for yourself, Buck. Tell Maureen that you love her. Far from being a handicap, your Negro blood will be a big advantage. You and she will think it over, settle on a course of action and proceed from there. And if it doesn't work, you're no worse off than before. Cy mentioned he was thinking of asking you to take Maureen to Lakeland to get her settled. Has he spoken to you about that?"

"That's what brought this all on. He told me last night"

"Good. You take her. Something tells me that you'll have the opportunity to talk to her. It's a hundred-and-fifty-mile drive and you'll be there for a few days."

"Suppose then that I...." Buck shook his head. "Mrs. Bergstrom, what chance do I stand? She's not only a beauty, but a gifted artist. Prominent men, rich men, handsome men-of all colors-will fall all over themselves for her favors."

"You'll never really know, Buck, until you try."

"No'm, I sure won't. Well, maybe I'll give it a riffle. But I hardly know where or how to start."

"That will come to you. Now, there's just one thing. If you do work anything out, please call me, long-distance, collect. I'll want to know all about it"

"What good would that do?"

"It would satisfy my curiosity. And I'll be able to prepare Cy for what's to come."

"I think I'd rather do that myself."

"You think it will be easy?"

Buck shook his big head. "No'm. It might be hard."

"Call me, anyway."

"Surely, ma'am."

Lady glared at him. "You've always done well by people, Buck."

"I've tried," the big Negro said.

"All right, then. Do well by yourself."

Buck's eyes grew misty. "My mother told me you would help me."

"Violet's a smart woman, Buck," Lady said severely, honking her nose into a lacy handkerchief. "You won't forget"

Buck might have enjoyed the ride in the big Thunderbird, had Maureen not looked so lovely in her brown cotton dress. Her very presence made his throat knot. She had been sitting silent for a long half-hour, when finally she glanced at Buck. "You don't like me, do you?"

"What makes you say that?" Buck responded roughly.

"You haven't spoken once since we've started. Before we left, you were abrupt-quite rude, actually. I don't understand. Have I ever done anything to offend you? Or is your attitude based on some things you may happen to know that are none of your business?"

"What things?"

"Things about Cy and me."

Buck was silent, trying to order his thoughts. "I have nothing against you. What's between you and Cy is, as you so clearly put it, your own business."

"Maybe you don't like me because you caught me naked in the creek that time. That wasn't my idea, you know."

"It wasn't mine either," Buck said, clearing his throat. "I heard something splashing, and went to see what it was. I didn't mean to spy on you. You were a sight I hadn't expected. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I couldn't help that."

Maureen smiled slowly. "Then I didn't exactly leave you cold?"

Buck managed a return grin. "You affected me the way a match does kerosene. The only chill I've felt since was when I learned about your carryings-on with Cy."

"You object?"

"What objections I might have are of no concern. Cy's my best friend."

"Ah-then that's what's troubling you."

"That and a few other things." Buck stared grimly through the windshield. It was now or never, he knew. He swallowed and blurted, "You see, the day I saw you something happened to me that I'll never get over. There-now I've said it. I won't try to take it back."

Showing totally unexpected diffidence, the beautiful and gifted Maureen hung her head. Buck felt fear freeze his vitals. Had he gone too far? Had he insulted her? This could be the moment, the big test.

When Maureen replied, her voice was low. "I felt it too-that day at the creek. Ever since, you've been popping in and out of my mind even though Cy has made me quite happy. You know, sometimes I have a feeling of inferiority-a feeling that I'm not measuring up to his standards."

"That's your idea, not Cy's," said Buck gallantly.

"I know it ... Just as it's his idea that he's not being fair to me." Maureen sighed. "I'm really glad to be getting away. I need time to think."

"What's this business about me jumping in and out of your mind?"

"That's what you do." Maureen sat demurely, her eyes shy and lowered. "I don't suppose you're ignorant of it, but-but you're so handsome, so strong-"

Buck could not have been more astonished. "Me?"

"Yes. I'd love you to model for me. And your smile, the way you walk and talk-" She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know ... I just don't know. Every time I see you in my mind's eye, I feel so disloyal to Cy."

"Do you feel disloyal to me?"

"Oh, no. Why should I?"

"Because I'm the man who wants to marry you," Buck said. "Better think about that some time."

They both thought about it, all through the rest of the ride.

Arrived in Lakeland, they found that the dormitories were filled to capacity. This was to be expected, since registration week was nearly over and most students were already on hand. Maureen would have to find some place off-campus in which to live. Luckily, as she and Buck combed the streets, they discovered a small but neat apartment not too far from the main drag.

"This costs too much," protested Maureen, horrified when she learned the rent

"I'm following orders," said Buck. "And if Lady can't afford to keep you here, I'll work day and night to kick in."

Maureen looked at him for a long time, her mind churning furiously. Then with a peculiar note in her voice, she said. "Buck, come here."

He moved closer to her, warily watching her face.

He stood as calm and straight as a tree when she threw her arms around him. "I've been thinking...." she said, her words muffled against his broad chest.

"You have plenty more to do yet," he assured her. "Now, get your books straight, your clothes arranged. I'll run find a place to sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'll put in a stock of cereals for you to breakfast on. You can get your hot meals at the student union." He moved as if to break away from her.

Maureen clung to him, would not let go. "You'll have to stay," she cried desperately. "I need you to help me think."

"If I stay here," Buck said, stroking her satiny shoulder, "neither of us will do any thinking."

Maureen's eyes were wet as she raised them to his. "Buck, maybe I've been thinking too much."

"That could be-or not enough."

She was warm against him, and her allure was too much for any male to resist. It was inevitable that their lips should meet.

The kiss sent a wild tide of unleashed passion ripping through her. The smooth serpentine movement of her body revealed that the time for thought was past....

The hours passed swiftly and sweetly.

At midnight, the moon cast a beam of mellow gold across Maureen's nude body as she lay beside Buck. This night she had been loved and she knew now that she could love Buck-f or whom she had proved it.

Lady Bergstrom, cross-eyed with sleep, sat up in bed. The phone at her side was ringing furiously. She stared at it with resentment. "Ring, you brass-gutted son of a bitch," she said muzzily. "Be damned if I'D answer you." But since it would not desist, she reached for the instrument, still cursing a blue streak. "Whoever you are, you piebald son of a sea-cook, I'll deball you for waking me at this hour. Oh, hello, Buck-that you?"

"Ma'am, I've heard some language in my life," Buck said soothingly, "but that-"

"You didn't call me up to discuss my cussin'," Lady bawled. "What gives at that end?"

"Things proceed apace, as it were," Buck said cautiously.

"Ain't that just like you? You get around a university and you start talking like one. Next thing I know, you'll be calling me "chick" and refusing me my proper respect."

"No, ma'am," Buck insisted. "I'll never refuse you anything."

"All right ... What gives down there?"

"Cy will have to worry about only one woman," Buck said.

"That's good. You don't want me to say anything to him?"

"After extensive cogitation, I have arrived at the conclusion that perhaps you should be the one to approach him."

"Huh? What language are you talkin'? Anyway, don't worry, I'll fix it at this end."

"Mrs. Bergstrom, in case I forget to tell you later, you're one of the Lord's finer creatures."

"You're damn right I am," Lady bellowed. "And you'd better tell me every time you see me. By the way, where are you?"

"I'm in Maureen's apartment."

Lady chuckled. "I can't think of a better place to be at midnight."

"Maureen's asleep. I want her to be fresh for the morning."

"Sure. Well, have fun, you-all." Lady hung up and flopped back on her pillow. She turned and tossed and cursed and grumbled. Later she got up, found a bottle of brandy, and toasted Romance. Feeling revived, she toasted it again. When at last she felt sleepy, she tumbled tipsily into bed.

• 12 of 12
• «
• 1
• 2
• ...
• 10
• 11
• 12