A Little Bit Country: A Little Bit Country / Blackberry Summer

Kate shook her head. “But I feel as if I should apologize. I’m not going to be the kind of wife Clay wants if I can’t trust him around a pretty girl once in a while.”

Had the earth cracked open just then, Rorie would gladly have fallen in. That had to be preferable to looking at Kate and feeling the things she did about Clay Franklin.

“Don’t have any worries about me,” she said, dismissing the issue as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a day or two.”

“Oh, Rorie, please, I don’t want you to rush off because I had a silly attack of jealousy. Now I feel terrible.”

“Don’t, please. I have to leave... I want to leave. My vacation’s on hold until I can get my car repaired and there’s so much I’d planned to see and do.” She dug in her bag for a brochure. “Have you ever been up to Victoria on Vancouver Island?”

“Once, but I was only five, too young to remember much of anything,” Kate told her, scanning the pamphlet. “This does sound like fun. Maybe this is where Clay and I should have our honeymoon.”

“It’d be perfect for that,” Rorie murmured. Her heart constricted with a sudden flash of pain, but she ruthlessly forced down her emotions, praying Kate hadn’t noticed. “I’m looking forward to visiting Canada. By the way, Mary’s driving to Riversdale to visit her sister later in the week. She’s asked me to take charge of cooking dinner if I’m still here. Would you like to help? We could have a good time and really get to know each other.”

“Oh, that would be great.” Kate slipped her arm around Rorie’s waist and gave her an enthusiastic squeeze. “Thank you, Rorie. I know you’re trying to reassure me, and I appreciate it.”

That had been exactly Rorie’s intent.

“It probably sounds selfish,” Kate continued, “but I’m glad your car broke down when it did. Without any difficulty at all, I can see us becoming the best of friends.”

Rorie could, too, but that only added to her growing sense of uneasiness.

* * *

Nightingale was a sleepy kind of town. Businesses lined both sides of Main Street, with a beauty shop, an insurance agency, Nellie’s Café and a service station on one side, a grocery store, pharmacy and five-and-dime on the other. Rorie had the impression that things happened in their own time in Nightingale, Oregon. Few places could have been more unlike San Francisco, where people always seemed to be rushing. Here, no one seemed to feel any need to hurry. It was as though this town, with its population of fifteen hundred, existed in a time warp. Rorie found the relaxed pace unexpectedly pleasant.

“The library is across from the high school on Maple Street,” Kate explained as she parked her Ford on Main. “That way, students have easy access.”

Rorie climbed out of the car, automatically pressing down the door lock.

“You don’t have to do that here. There hasn’t been a vehicle stolen in...oh, at least twenty years.”

Rorie’s eyes must have revealed her surprise, because Kate went on, “Actually, we had trouble passing our last bond issue for a new patrol car. People couldn’t see the need since there hasn’t been a felony committed in over two years. About the worst thing that goes on is when Harry Ackerman gets drunk. That happens once or twice a year and he’s arrested for disturbing the peace.” She grinned sheepishly. “He sings old love songs to Nellie at the top of his lungs in front of the café. They were apparently sweet on each other a long time back. Nellie married someone else and Harry never got over the loss of his one true love.”

Looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Rorie looked around the quiet streets.

“The fire and police station are in the same building,” Kate pointed out next. “And there’s a really nice restaurant on Oak. If you want, we could have lunch there.”

“Only if you let me treat.”

“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Kate said with a shake of her head that sent her braids flying. “You’re my guest.”

Rorie decided not to argue, asking another question instead. “Where do the ranchers get their supplies?” It seemed to her that type of store would do a thriving business, yet she hadn’t seen one.

“At Garner’s Feed and Supply. It’s on the outskirts of town—I’ll take you past on the way out. In fact, we should take a driving tour so you can see a little more of Nightingale. Main Street is only a small part of it.”

By the time Kate and Rorie walked over to Maple and the library, Rorie’s head was swimming with the names of all the people Kate had insisted on introducing. It seemed everyone had heard about her car problems and was eager to talk to her. Several mentioned the Grange dance that night and said they’d be looking for her there.

“You’re really going to be impressed with the library,” Kate promised as they walked the two streets over to Maple. “Dad and the others worked hard to get the levy passed so we could build it. People here tend to be tightfisted. Dad says they squeeze a nickel so hard, the buffalo belches.”

Rorie laughed outright at that.

The library was the largest building in town, a sprawling one-story structure with lots of windows. The hours were posted on the double glass doors, and Rorie noted that the library wouldn’t open until the middle of the afternoon, still several hours away.

“It doesn’t seem to be open,” she said, disappointed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got a key. All the volunteers do.” Kate rummaged in her bag and took out a large key ring. She opened the door, pushing it wide for Rorie to enter first.

“Mrs. Halldorfson retired last year, a month after the building was finished,” Kate told her, flipping on the lights, “and the town’s budget wouldn’t stretch to hire a new full-time librarian. So a number of parents and teachers are taking turns volunteering. We’ve got a workable schedule, unless someone goes on vacation, which, I hate to admit, has been happening all summer.”

“You don’t have a full-time librarian?” Rorie couldn’t disguise her astonishment. “Why go to all the trouble and expense of building a modern facility if you can’t afford a librarian?”

“You’ll have to ask Town Council that,” Kate returned, shrugging. “It doesn’t make much sense, does it? But you see, Mrs. Halldorfson was only part-time and the Council seems to think that’s what her replacement should be.”

“That doesn’t make sense, either.”

“Especially when you consider that the new library is twice the size of the old one.”

Rorie had to bite her tongue to keep from saying more. But she was appalled at the waste, the missed opportunities.

“We’ve been advertising for months for a part-time librarian, but so far we haven’t found anyone interested. Not that I blame them—one look at the size of the job and no one wants to tackle it alone.”

“A library is more than a place to check books in and out,” Rorie said, gesturing dramatically. Her voice rose despite herself. This was an issue close to her heart, and polite silence was practically impossible. “A library can be the heart of a community. It can be a place for classes, community services, all kinds of things. Don’t non-profit organizations use it for meetings?”

“I’m afraid not,” Kate answered. “Everyone gets together at Nellie’s when there’s any kind of meeting. Nellie serves great pies,” she added, as though that explained everything.

Realizing that she’d climbed onto her soapbox, Rorie dropped her hands and shrugged. “It’s a very nice building, Kate, and you have every reason to be proud. I didn’t mean to sound so righteous.”

“But you’re absolutely correct,” Kate said thoughtfully. “We’re not using the library to its full potential, are we? Volunteers can only do so much. As it is, the library’s only open three afternoons a week.” She sighed expressively. “To be honest, I think Dad and the other members of the Town Council are expecting Mrs. Halldorfson to come back in the fall, but that’s unfair to her. She’s served the community for over twenty years. She deserves to retire in peace without being blackmailed into coming back because we can’t find a replacement.”

“Well, I hope you find someone soon.”

“I hope so, too,” Kate murmured.

They ate a leisurely lunch, and as she’d promised, Kate gave Rorie a tour of the town. After showing her several churches, the elementary school where she taught second grade and some of the nicer homes on the hill, Kate ended the tour on the outskirts of town near Garner’s Feed and Supply.

“Luke’s here,” Kate said, easing into the parking place next to a dusty pickup truck.

“Luke?”

“Our foreman. I don’t know what Dad would do without him. He runs the ranch and has for years—ever since I was in high school. Dad’s retirement age now, and he’s more than willing to let Luke take charge.”

Kate got out of the car and leaned against the front fender, crossing her arms over her chest. Rorie joined her.

“He’ll be out in a minute,” Kate said.

True to her word, a tall, deeply tanned man appeared with a sack of grain slung over his shoulder. His eyes were so dark they gleamed like onyx, taking in everything around him, but revealing little of his own thoughts. His strong square chin was balanced by a high intelligent brow. He was lean and muscular and strikingly handsome.

“Need any help, stranger?” Kate asked with a laugh.