Confessions to Mr. Roosevelt Page 21

  Ellen waited, wondering what those two ladies were up to now.

  “After a few pleasantries, they asked me to hire you. No, that’s not right . . . they demanded. It was all very polite, of course, but there was no misunderstanding they expected me to do what they asked. They even offered to pool their resources and pay half your salary.”

  “You didn’t agree!” Ellen was appalled at the thought of taking the women’s money.

  “Of course, I refused. But it’s downright difficult to say no to those two, so we compromised.” He patted his jacket pocket for a cigar, then thought better of it. “We agreed that since Jess is going, there will be times when Arnie Stanhope will have to cover sports, not his usual beat of city council meetings and general news around the county. When someone is needed, you get the assignment with the understanding you get paid by the story, not a fixed salary, and that the Chicago job comes first.”

  Ellen stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal. And I’m not going to say I’m grateful, although I am.”

  They were interrupted by the strum of a guitar that caught everyone’s attention. Cowboy Joe stood and made a brief speech, wishing Jess well. To punctuate his remarks, Joe began to play “So Long, It’s Been Good to Know You.” The tune began softly, slowly building to an upbeat rendition. As he sang, Joe made his way to the gate leading into the side yard. Ending the song with a flourish, he bowed to the applause, and then he was gone.

  As she watched Joe’s retreating back, Ellen caught a glimpse of a figure stepping back to let Joe pass. Excusing herself from Calley, she wove her way through the partygoers until she was past the open gate.

  “Jason,” she let out the name with a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your landlady told me where you were. She even drew me a map so I wouldn’t get lost.” His irresistible smile dimmed when her frown didn’t turn into a look of delighted surprise. “You look great, by the way.”

  “I mean, what are you doing in Opal’s Grove?” She didn’t add she’d given up seeing him again.

  He reached out and took her hand. “I told you I’d be back. Everything just took longer than I expected. Lawyers in Tulsa. Lawyers in Oklahoma City. A disgruntled and, as it turned out, petty criminal of a station manager trying to sabotage the whole deal. Thought I’d never get things finished.”

  Ellen pulled back her hand, speechless.

  Jason glanced at the gathering in the backyard. “Miss Jewell told me about the party. Aren’t you going to introduce me to the honoree? I’d like to meet your friends.”

  “No.” She could think of any number of reasons not to take him around. At the top of her list was someone—probably Mr. Calley or Audrey—mentioning Ellen’s plans to stay in Opal’s Grove. She wanted to tell him herself, and in her own way.

  Ellen lightened her tone. “Let’s go somewhere quiet where we can talk. Just let me thank the Smiths for the party and say goodbye to Jess.”

  Ellen quickly found Jess. Just as she finished wishing him good luck, Audrey was at her side, tugging at an arm.

  “Is that him?” She nodded in Jason’s direction. “Not what I expected. Too good-looking, and I bet he’s got loads of personality. I figured you went for those scrawny, intellectual types with spectacles.”

  Ellen couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you just described the bookkeeper Mother had lined up for me, although I’m not sure about the intellectual part.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Audrey waggled her eyebrows.

  “No. Absolutely not.” Ellen dug into the small shoulder bag that had replaced her satchel for the evening. Pulling out her car key, she handed it to Audrey. “Here, take my car when you leave. Jason will bring me home.”

  “You aren’t going to do something foolish, are you?”

  Ellen shook her head. Audrey was trying to nudge her again. “What did you have in mind?” she asked.

  “It would be foolish to tell that man to get lost. He looks like somebody you might like to keep around. But don’t go to extremes and run off and marry him.”

  Laughing, Ellen turned on her heel and walked to where Jason stood smiling and nodding to anyone who happened to look in his direction.

  Ellen took Jason by the arm and steered him toward the street. Another spectacular sunset filled the western sky, but Ellen had other things on her mind.

  “Where are we going?” Jason allowed himself to be led. “Back to the boardinghouse?”

  Ellen shook her head. “I thought you’d drive us over to the city park. There will be a few people there, out for an evening stroll, but we won’t have Miss Jewell or Audrey hovering around the windows pretending not to be interested in us.”

  Jason heartily approved, and within a few minutes, following Ellen’s directions, they turned onto the street bordering the south end of the park. Ellen pointed toward a parking area near the bandstand. “I was at a concert there the first time you came to Opal’s Grove,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Seems like ages.”

  She gave Jason a sideways glance. “Yes, it does.”

  He parked and helped Ellen out the car. With the exception of two women strolling in the rose garden and a man walking his dog along a path on the opposite end of the park, they were alone.

  Jason glanced around. “Pretty place. I’m surprised that those flowers—are they daisies?—look so good. You’d think the heat and drought would have killed them.”

  “Dishwater. Buckets of dishwater.” Seeing his confusion, she repeated what Ivy had told her about Constance’s committee to water the plants with dirty dishwater. “At least some of the ladies are following up on the plan.” She took the arm Jason offered, and they walked to a path bordering the concert grounds.

  “You got the inside scoop, huh? Know all the secrets of the beautification committee?” Jason teased. “You sound like a girl who’s gotten to know this little town pretty well. All settled in, just like home.”

  “Not like home.” Ellen didn’t add “thank goodness.” “But I am settled in, as you say, and I’m going to be here for longer than planned.” She pointed to a bench sheltered beneath a bur oak tree.

  When they were both seated, Jason’s body angled toward her with an arm draped across the back of the bench, Ellen told him about the Chicago newspaper, the articles she was already planning, and the occasional assignments from Grover Calley for the local paper.

  Jason dropped a hand to her shoulder, leaned closer, and hugged her to him. “Good for you! I mean it. I know this didn’t just fall into your lap. You worked for it.”

  “You bet I did. But if it hadn’t been for that skeleton, I might not have made an impression on Calley. Oh, he liked the article I did about the pioneer interviews, but it was the way I handled the skeleton story that caught his attention.”

  Jason withdrew his arm to hold up both hands. “Whoa! Back up and explain.”

  Ellen poked him in the chest. “You’ve been busy. I’ve been busy.” She launched into the story of the skeleton’s discovery. Taking a breath, she thought she might as well tell him about Nettie Vine barging into Agatha’s kitchen.

  “Then, the sheriff came, and there was Mrs. Bright’s son, and a doctor for Miss Vine,” she finished. “And that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Jason’s voice rose. “What more could there be, unless she actually shot somebody?”

  “Well, nobody was shot, and Miss Vine is being looked after in a special hospital.” Ellen kept the end of the story to herself. It wasn’t hers to tell. It never would be.

  Jason sat back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re going to write about this for the Chicago paper, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Ellen said more stridently than she intended and then tempered her tone. “I won’t take advantage of a confused old woman. As for the skeleton, there’s no conclusion. The remains haven’t been identified, and it’s unlikely that will happen. And the last thing this town needs is a bunch of outsiders pouring in
trying to solve the case, or worse, digging around on private property hunting for an Indian village that could be anywhere along the river. Before you know it, there will be a rumor of a hidden treasure.”

  “Fortune hunters and a treasure map. Has all the makings of a radio play; don’t you think?”

  “I believe that’s been done more than once.” Ellen smiled.

  “Yes, but you could put a new angle on it.” Jason shifted, his arm once again encircling Ellen across the back of the bench. “Driving up here, I thought I had a great job to offer you. The radio station in Oklahoma broadcasts a radio play once a week. They’re rotten. The station manager, whom I personally had the pleasure of firing for general laziness, drunkenness, and stealing from petty cash, was using a thirty-year-old book of plays meant for high-school performances. That got me to thinking. Those stories you write for the magazines are similar to radio plays. So, why not hire you to write plays for the station? But you’ve made other plans.”

  Ellen was flattered he thought of her and saw any value in her writing, but her focus had to be the newspapers. He’d expected as much.

  “While I was in Oklahoma, I thought about you.”

  Ellen raised an eyebrow, wondering at the shift in conversation. “I imagined you sitting in the backyard at the boardinghouse, and I wondered how things were going with the interviews. Sometimes, I’d ask myself what you would do if you were in some of the situations I got into.”

  Ellen tensed. “Jason . . .”

  He reached for her hand. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel.” Ellen was suddenly reminded of Ivy saying how grateful she was that Wheat never said flowery, romantic things to her. Some people had to hear the words, but Ellen realized she wasn’t one of them.

  “Don’t look so anxious. I’m not leading up to a proposal of marriage.”

  Seconds ticked by as they stared at one another. Suddenly, they both burst out laughing.

  “I admit it; I did think that’s what you were about to do. It was a little frightening.”

  “I thought about it driving up here. But these last couple of weeks taught me a few lessons. The first being that I’m not as smart as I thought I was. I have a lot to learn if I’m going to run Dad’s business someday. It wouldn’t be fair to leave my wife alone while I work long hours and spend a great deal of time at our new station in Oklahoma.”

  “And I’d like to see what happens with the newspapers.” Ellen stopped. “You’re going to Oklahoma? I plan to do some stories from Oklahoma.”

  “Just what I was thinking. Lots of things to write about there.”

  Jason hugged Ellen to him. “We might figure this thing out yet.”

  “We might.” Ellen pictured herself stepping off a cliff, but she didn’t mind the sensation. With a start, she realized she didn’t mind that she would never be like Nancy, with plans laid out like stepping-stones into the future.

  Jason kissed the top of her head. “I can stay around for a couple of days. Have any plans?”

  Ellen situated herself to look at Jason. “As a matter of fact, after tomorrow morning I am no longer being watched by Iris Hewitt and the WPA, so I would like to go to the Hurley-Burley and see what all the fuss is about. And, Saturday night—how would you like to go for a little ride in the country?”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  M. J. Holt is the author of seven books on historical subjects that include studies of children’s Western experiences in the 1800s and the changing lives of farm women at the turn of the 19th century. She has been a research consultant for PBS documentaries, including “The American Experience,” and for Kansas PBS stations’ programming on local history. She appeared on C-Span’s “First Ladies Series” in connection with her biography of Mamie Eisenhower. Her books have been recognized by the Illinois, Kansas, and Oklahoma Centers for the Book, and her book Indian Orphanages received the Oklahoma Historical Society’s Book of the Year Award. A native of Illinois, she has lived in Kansas for the last thirty-plus years.

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