Patricia Kay – The Millionaire and the Mum (страница 8)

“Yes, that’s true, but in order to run a farm like this, you also have to know how to read and write. You have to know math and computers and all kinds of things.”

“Are we gonna get a computer?” Matthew asked excitedly, zeroing in on the most important point just the way kids always seemed to.

“A ’puter!” Amy exclaimed. “Brittany has a ’puter, and they have the Rugrats game. When I go to her house, I gets to play it.” Brittany was her best friend Dee Ann’s daughter—three years older and Amy’s idol.

Beth tried to make her voice upbeat, even though it broke her heart to constantly disappoint her children. “We can’t get a computer right away, but I promise, we will get one.” She’d been wanting a computer for the business, too, but it was way down on her list of priorities, because you had to have something to sell before you needed to keep records, and the way things had been going the past couple of years, all her financial resources were needed just to keep her head above water. Still…she could buy a secondhand computer for the kids. Oh, yeah, sure. If she could find a secondhand computer for sale for ten dollars, then maybe she could afford it. Fat chance.

“It’s okay, Mama,” Matthew said, reaching out to touch her hand. “I don’t need a computer.”

“Yeah,” Amy said loyally. “We don’t need one.”

Beth swallowed against the lump in her throat. Getting up, she kissed them both in turn, saying softly, “What did I ever do to deserve two kids as wonderful as you?”

Jack got back to the motel after nine. As he drove past the office, he saw a woman inside. Mr. Temple was obviously gone for the day. Jack parked outside Unit Seven, noticing as he did that there were only two other cars in the parking lot. If that’s all the business they did, he wondered how they stayed afloat. Of course, this was a weeknight. Maybe they did better on weekends, although it wasn’t like this place was on a major highway. He couldn’t imagine that anyone coming through Rose Hill would go anywhere else. Rose Hill would pretty much have to be your destination.

He locked his truck and walked over to his room. Just as he inserted his key into his door, a voice said, “You been gone a long time. You must have got to see some farms today.”

Jack whirled around, automatically falling into a crouch and reaching for his gun. It took a moment before he realized where he was and that he had no gun. All his guns were safely locked up back at the mansion. Alarmed by his lapse, he hoped the old man—whom he belatedly realized was sitting in the shadows outside Unit Five—hadn’t noticed his odd reaction.

“I didn’t see you sitting there,” Jack said, walking over to where the motel owner sat.

“Not many people do. That’s why I like settin’ here. I can see ever’thing goin’ on, but nobody can see me. It’s in’erestin’.”

From what Jack could tell, there wasn’t anything going on. Unless you count the fact you tried to shoot Mr. Temple when he spoke to you.

“So did you get to see some farms?” the old man repeated curiously.

“Yes, I’ve been out at the Johnson place.” And then, because he knew the motel owner would find out about him working for Beth, anyway, Jack decided he might as well tell him. “I’m going to be working there for a while.”

“Is that a fact? I guess Bethie must have scrounged up some money from somewhere, then, ’cause she was sayin’ just last week how she didn’t know what she was gonna do this season. I told her she could try and get a loan from the First National, but she said her granny would roll over in her grave if she mortgaged the farm. Her granny didn’t believe in bein’ beholden to anyone. Course, most folks in these parts feel that way, leastwise the older folks, like me. We was growin’ up durin’ the Depression, and we remember how so many folks lost ever’thin’ to those banks, many of our parents included.”

He kept on in this vein for a good ten minutes. When he wound down, Jack used the opportunity to change the subject a bit, because something had him curious. “How long has Mrs. Johnson been on her own out there? You mentioned her cousin who quit, but what about her husband?”

“That good-for-nothin’! He’s long gone, and good riddance, I say. Eben died a year ago June when he had a losin’ argument with an eighteen-wheeler. Drunk as a skunk, he was. Course that wasn’t nothin’ new. Eben, he liked the bottle more ’n just about anything.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, folks around here, we were sure sorry for Bethie. Her granny, one of the most sensible women you’d ever meet, tried to warn her about him, but you know how young folks are. They gotta learn ever’thin’ the hard way.”

Now Mr. Temple was off on another tangent, which kept him going five more minutes. Jack finally managed to find a way to say good-night without seeming impolite.

“Guess I’ll turn in now, too,” Mr. Temple said. “It’s been kinda borin’ out here tonight.” He got up slowly and opened the door to Unit Five.

“You live here?” Jack said.

“Yep. Ever since my wife, God rest her soul, died, I been livin’ right here on the property. When Alma, that’s my sister, two years older ’n me and thinks she’s my keeper, asked why was I sellin’ the house, I told her ’cause I wanted to, that’s why, and I didn’t need no other reason. That shut her up. First time in memory!” He laughed, delighted with his own wit. Then, maybe feeling guilty about bad-mouthing his sister, he added, “Alma, she’s okay. She’s got a big mouth, but she’s also got a big heart.”

Later, as Jack lay in the unfamiliar, faintly uncomfortable bed and listened to the chorus of cicadas outside his window, he thought about Beth and her kids and wondered about what old man Temple had told him. Could he have exaggerated? Maybe Eben Johnson hadn’t been as bad as Mr. Temple had painted him, because Beth sure didn’t seem like the type of woman who would put up with that kind of behavior for very long. And she’d obviously been married to Eben awhile if Matthew was seven years old and Eben had only been dead a little over a year. Usually, if a woman stayed with a man like that, she did so because she was scared to be on her own. Weak, in other words.

Beth was not weak. Just the opposite, in fact. She was strong—a fighter, just like Jack. But fighter or not, right now she needed help. Suddenly he was very glad circumstances had sent him her way, because he was going to enjoy helping her.

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