Morning Glory Read online

  A Drifters and Dreamers Romance

  Love Is

  A Falling Star

  All the Way from Texas

  The Yard Rose

  The Ivy Tree

  Lily's White Lace

  That Way Again

  The Wager

  Trouble in Paradise

  The PMS Club

  The Love's Valley Historical Romance Series:

  Redemption

  Choices

  Absolution

  Chances

  Promises

  The Promised Land Romance Series:

  Willow

  Velvet

  Gypsy

  Garnet

  Augusta

  The Land Rush Romance Series:

  Emma's Folly

  Violet's Wish

  Maggie's Mistake

  Just Grace

  Carolyn Brown

  This title was previously published by Avalon Books; this version has been reproduced from the Avalon book archive files.

  Clara eyed the suitcase beside the dresser in her bedroom. Most days she tried to ignore it, forgetting the lovely dresses folded neatly inside. Choosing not to remember why she'd packed her best that day more than ten years before. Everything as it was when she was ready to elope at nineteen. A full decade had passed and still the townsfolk thought she had been affected by the events of that spring tent revival. She really didn't care what they thought; not back then, not now. Someday Percy Miller would come back to Healdton, Oklahoma. The little double-barreled derringer in her purse would remedy the problem when the time arrived. No one, not even a so-called man of God, messed with an Anderson and got away with it forever.

  Clara went downstairs and called through the dining room, toward the open kitchen door. "I'm going to town now, Dulcie."

  "It's about that time." Dulcie dried her hands on the tail of her starched apron. It had to be nigh on to 3:00. That's when Miss Clara always left the house with her hat set just so, her white gloves buttoned at the wrist. All dressed up to go to the post office to collect the mail for everyone in the Inn and do whatever errands needed done.

  "You know we've got that extra room. If anyone comes askin' about it there's a contract right here" Clara pulled a single piece of paper from the drawer of the oak credenza and laid it beside fresh pink roses floating in a crystal bowl, then meticulously fastened the pearl buttons on her gloves and checked her reflection in the gold gilt mirror. Her hat was a masterpiece of feathers and ribbons on white straw perched on top of dark-slicked-back hair. She leaned in closer. A few crow's feet around big blue eyes, but then thirty loomed big in the near future. Wide mouth with no wrinkles. Not yet, anyway. How many years did she have left before she'd look like a dried up apple?

  Dulcie yelled from the kitchen and kept kneading bread. "I know. Rent is thirty dollars a month and that includes the breakfast. Supper is another fifty cents a day. Honey, why don't you find a nice man to step out with? Folks talk, you know. It's been ten years"

  "Of course I know that, but what on earth would the people talk about if I didn't provide them with a village idiot," Clara laughed. For a whole year, she'd gone to town every day at 3:00 to sit on the bench in front of the drug store. That's where Percy was supposed to come back for her a decade ago. He'd never shown his face back in Healdton, but she'd sure enough acquired a reputation for being a bit "touched" Even after she stopped waiting, the reputation stuck to her like wallpaper paste.

  She blinked away the memories and headed out the door. "And Dulcie, don't you go renting that room to just anyone. Another widow woman would be nice."

  Dulcie shook her head hard enough that all three chins wobbled. "Yes, Miss Clara. Sweet Jesus, why did you ever send that scoundrel of a preacher to town anyway?"

  Clara meandered four blocks down Main Street and sat for a while on the bench in front of the drug store. She smoothed the skirt of her wine-colored gabardine dress, adjusted her hat and folded her hands in her lap. A silly dreamer, that's what folks called Clara Anderson. Dreaming of the day when the love of her life would return and carry her away to live happily ever after.

  Ten years ago she thought that was exactly what would happen. Percy promised he'd return in a week. Just a fast trip to Guthrie and then he'd come back for her. Three o'clock in the afternoon in front of the drug store the next Friday. They'd elope on their way to Louisiana, where he had a mansion and a whole staff of servants to wait on her hand and foot. She'd waited for him on Friday, her suitcase packed and ready, sitting beside her. She'd been all aglow with anticipation and aglitter with excitement. She took her baggage home at dark and the rumors began. She took the suitcase with her every day for another week, and the gossip raged. After seven days, she left the suitcase at home and carried a purse with revenge tucked neatly inside. Soon a whole month had passed and then a year and then she stopped going to the bench. But the local citizens had never stopped talking about the crazy woman who walked downtown every day at 3:00, come snow, rain, blistering sun, a tornado or even a red devil dust storm for a whole year. Everyone remembered that Clara had been jilted, and she'd been tagged the oddest one of the three Anderson cousins. And when someone new came through town, they told the story of the silly old maid who had waited on the bench in front of Healdton's only drug store for a whole year, expecting a traveling preacher to come back and marry her.

  "Clara, darlin', how're you today?" Matilda sat down beside her cousin on the bench.

  "Doin' fine," Clara nodded. "You?"

  "Been busy. Business is good," Matilda told her. "I went over to Ardmore yesterday and ordered a brand new automobile. It'll be here next week. Could have brought one home with me, but I wanted some writin' done on the front. A heavy metal plate with fancy gold lettering. That kind of fancy script, all twirly and pretty like Cletus has got on his safe at the bank"

  "Tilly, you didn't?" Clara laughed. Not a giggle, but a full-fledged laugh that echoed up and down the dusty dirt streets of Healdton, Oklahoma.

  "I sure enough did. A brand new one. Nineteen seventeen model. Won't even have a mile on it when I drive it home. The old used car I got from Tilman is starting to be more trouble than it's worth. Lights don't work half the time, and I'm left drivin' in the middle of the night with only the moon to guide me. I either had to go back to driving a wagon like Granny did or get something better. And honey, business is too far-flung now to be depending on a wagon. So the words "Sweet Tilly" will be all scripted out there for the whole world to see just like it was on Granny's wagon. If those old mules were important enough for Momma to let Granny Anderson name me after them, then I'll have the name on my brand new Model T Ford" Tilly's crystal clear blue eyes twinkled.

  "And everyone will think it's just because you are so vain that you put your name on the front of your car," Clara said.

  "Mornin', Clara and Tilly." Tucker Anderson tipped his hat at his lady cousins. "Hot enough for you today?"

  "Why, honey, it'd scorch the hair off a frog's tongue. Looks like we're in for a long, hot summer," Clara said. "Come and sit with us. I haven't seen you in town since last week sometime. Why haven't you been by for supper? Dulcie's missing you and you know the ladies all get plumb flitty when you're around."

  Tucker, a tall, lanky man with a crop of black hair and deep-set blue eyes that could pierce pure steel, eased down on the bench, leaving no room for anyone else. "That's why I haven't been by and you tell Dulcie that. Wouldn't hurt her feelings for nothing, but that Olivia gives me the hives. She acts like she'd like to break every rule in your momma's house and you know what I mean. You won't be thinking about renting your spare room to another one like her, will you?"

  "I would just to watch you squirm when you come to supper." Clara smiled up at her c
ousin. "But no one's come asking for it yet. Could rent it tomorrow to oil well riffraff, but I'm not having one of them in my house. They've ruined everything, Tucker. Life will never be the same in Healdton. All those bawdy houses in Ragtown, barely three miles away. I swear on a still night you can hear those fools throwing their hardearned money away in the most sinful ways," Clara told him.

  "They call it progress," Tucker said.

  "I call it a pure abomination unto the Lord," Clara said.

  Matilda clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Clara Anderson, you ain't seen the inside of a church building in ten years. Not since that hellfire and damnation preacher man fed you those lies and made a big fool out of you. So don't you be calling the wrath of God down on those people who are just trying to make a dollar."

  "Afternoon" George, the drug store owner, stepped outside and looked at the sky. "Don't look like rain today"

  The Anderson female cousins stopped arguing the minute they heard George open the door. Andersons might fight within the family, but no one in town was going to hear it. Granny Anderson had instilled that into them the whole time they were growing up. "Bicker and fight among the three of you, but if you ever let anyone outside the family see such a thing, I'll take a pecan switch to the lot of you. You can argue and squabble, but you'd best put up a united Anderson front when you deal with the rest of the world. Don't you come running to me when you begin to lose, neither. If you ain't got blood or broken bones, I don't want to hear your whinin'," she'd preached to them on more than one occasion.

  All three were remembering her words when George stared up at the cloudless sky again and made the same comment.

  "No, and we could sure use some," Tucker said.

  "Well, good to see you all" George disappeared back into the store.

  "They still out there?" his wife, Inez, asked from behind the soda counter.

  George nodded. "Yep, all three of them"

  She wiped the already clean countertop with a wet rag and whispered to her friend from Ardmore who'd dropped by for cold lemonade. "Guess they don't hurt nothing. Just sittin' on the bench and all. Even if they are a mite odd. That Clara is more than odd. She's downright crazy, if you ask me, but don't no one ever want my opinion on anything. Pretty as a picture, that girl is. Make any man turn and take a second look at her even though she is past marrying age. And she runs the Morning Glory with a solid hand. Don't let just anyone board there. Her mother was the same way, God rest her soul. A woman with sense and she passed it right on to Clara.

  "Then there's her cousin, Matilda Anderson. Even prettier than Clara. All that black hair like them Andersons have and pale blue eyes. I know for a fact that there was a line of men a mile long after her hand back when before she turned twenty. Not to mention she's rich as Midas. I heard she went to Ardmore and bought a brand new automobile. Paid cash for it."

  Her friend gasped. "Women don't do that without a man with them. My stars! To think she just went in and bought it. Do you think the rumors are true about her? We've heard about her. She's never worked a day in her life. Just stays out to that farm her daddy left her and spends money like it grew on trees in that high-dollar dress shop over there. I heard tell that the oil men offered her more'n a hundred dollars an acre to lease that farm to drill on it and she just laughed at them"

  "Is that a fact? Well, I heard Tucker won't let them on his farm neither. Wonder what it is they've got against the oil business. It's puttin' Healdton on the map. Don't they know that, Minnie?" Inez sniffed loudly.

  "I heard that they're against the oil business because they want things back like they were before the oil boom. Before that gusher went up four years ago. Well, they can just dream on, Inez. The world don't stand still for them, just because they're Andersons and their folks were big old cotton farmers. Oil makes more money than cotton and, honey, it don't-" Minnie wasn't whispering anymore.

  "Shhhhh," Inez hissed. "Good evening, Miss Clara and Miss Matilda. Y'all want a glass of lemonade to chase away some of this heat. Guess we're in for a long hot summer."

  "That would be nice." Clara removed her gloves as she sat down at one of the two small tables at the back of the store. "With lots of ice, please."

  "They were talking about us." Tilly winked. "They're blushing red as the devil's pitchfork."

  "So what else is new?" Clara asked.

  They both giggled so hard that Inez and Minnie gave each other a know-it-all nod.

  Briar Nelson stepped out of the Hotel Ardmore that bright, sunny afternoon. He adjusted his hat to shade his eyes and was already in his car, the engine running, when a man approached him from the sidewalk.

  "Hey, would you be going west toward Healdton or Hewitt?" he asked.

  "Going to Healdton," Briar answered.

  "There's five of us just signed on with Crystal Oil. We could sure use a ride."

  "Be glad to take you if you can manage the squeeze," Briar told him.

  "Thanks. Come on guys. I'm Cletus, the tall one over there is Jack, the short one is Henry, the red-haired one is Andy and the one left is Danny." he motioned to the other four sitting on top of well-worn suitcases.

  Talk went to the weather as they rode along the dirt road, dust boiling up as thick as a Kentucky mountain fog from the tires of the automobile. It was too dry. It was too hot. What would July and August be like if it kept on like this? Yet, if it rained, what would it do to the roads, which were already near impassable with ruts and gullies big enough to hide a rig inside? Fill all that up with water and there'd be no way to get from Healdton to Ardmore.

  "So you signed on with anyone yet, or are you not an oil man at all?" Cletus asked.

  "I'm working for Rose Oil," Briar said.

  "Never heard of it," Danny said. "Mustn't be very big."

  "Just a small independent company," Briar said.

  "Well, Crystal is still hiring. They said they were looking for tool pushers and drillers this morning when they took us on. We come up from Beaumont, Texas. Plenty of work there, but we wanted a change of scenery," Danny told him.

  "Danny's already seen all the loose women down in that part of the world and wanted to take a peek at a new bunch," Andy said, poking him in the ribs.

  "Ah, y'all are just jealous because I got the good looks and the brains," Danny teased.

  "One of these days there's going to be a filly that's going to catch him," Andy chuckled.

  "This Rose Oil? They working out of the Hotel Ardmore?" Cletus asked.

  "They were. Had a room rented, but they gave it up," Briar said.

  "Smart thing would've been to keep it. I understand that's the hotbed in the whole area for trading and buying other company's leases," Cletus said seriously. "You get tired of working for a little company like that though, you come on over to where we're roughneckin' and I'll put in a word for you in appreciation for this ride."

  "Thank you, but I'm pretty happy where I am. You get tired of Crystal, you come on over to Rose and tell Cecil I sent you. Where are y' all staying tonight?" Briar changed the subject.

  "Hotel, I hope, but I bet it's full to the brim. Someone told me it was a couple of doors down from the pool hall. Guess if there ain't room in Healdton we can walk out to Ragtown before supper time and see if there's room to pitch another tent. The man who hired us said everybody still calls it that that even though the post office went in under the name of Wirt. We'll be working out there starting tomorrow morning. Crystal's sending in a truck to haul us to whatever site they want us at," Cletus said.

  "Here we are." Briar passed a sign welcoming them to Healdton, Oklahoma. Main Street ran east and west. The hotel was still unpainted, a sure sign that it had been hastily thrown up to accommodate the sudden influx of oil field work. Nothing fancy. Just a twostorey frame building with a wooden sidewalk in front. A simple wooden sign with HOTEL written in red lettering was tacked up above the front door. A sign propped up in the window said there were vacancies.

  "Thanks
for the ride and remember what I said. You get a notion to move up to a bigger company, we'll see what we can do to get you a job," Danny said.

  "You are quite welcome," Briar said. "And if you aren't happy at Crystal, come talk to Cecil at Rose Oil."

  All five of them nodded and hauled their baggage through the hotel's front door.

  Briar got out of the car, stretched his six feet plus lanky frame and looked up and down the street. Off to his right, about three doors down, was a swinging sign with POOL HALL on it. He passed a place with DRUG STORE written on a sign in the window. Evidently, there was only one person in town who made signs and he had little imagination. Three people occupied the bench outside the drug store. Two very pretty women and a man who looked like he might be their brother. Briar tipped his hat toward them and kept walking.

  He swung open the pool hall door, let his eyes adjust to the stale darkness, listened to the chatter of a few men shooting a game and made his way to the back. A big, burly man with a cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth stood behind a short makeshift bar of unfinished rough lumber laid across two barrels.

  "What can I get you? You a gov'ment man?" the man asked around the cigar. His tone was high and squeaky and didn't go with the close-cropped hair or the width of his shoulders.

  Briar wasn't about to grin at the big man's feminine voice but it took a concentrated effort to keep his face passive. "No, don't reckon I am"

  "Well then I got some really good hooch under the counter or there's Coca Cola. Mix 'em up if you want. Not bad served that way and if the feds or the preacher either one comes in, it looks like you're drinking Coke" He smiled at his own joke. "You new in town? Comin' in to find a job on the oil wells?"

  "I'll just have a cup of coffee," Briar said. "And yes, I'm new in town. Working for Rose Oil. Lookin' for a place to stay. Got any good boarding houses?"

  "Couple. But the hotel still has rooms. Just built it a few months ago. Ain't even had time to get its fair share of roaches and rats." The man set a cup of tarry substance on the bar.