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CHAPTER 1
Jenny Bentley looked up from the pair of blue denim overalls that she was patching for her husband Jed. She pushed back a wisp of red hair streaked with gray that had fallen across her forehead. With a sweaty hand, she touched her cheek that showed traces of faded freckles. It was hot. So hot that the overalls felt clammy as she held them up to inspect the patch on the knee.
"There," she said out loud. "That ought to last for at least one more wearin'."
She was sitting in a rocking chair on the wide front porch of the big old white framed house. It was the house in which Jed had been born. The bedroom they shared had been Jed's parents' room.
She got up and walked to the edge of the porch. A big yellow cat came up the steps and began to wind himself around her bare legs.
"Quincy, stop that touchin' me. It's too hot to have you rubbin' all over me. You lazy good for nothin' cat, get out yonder to the barn and catch those mice that keep cuttin' our feed bags. I'll find myself patchin' them like I've been patchin' Jed's overalls."
As if he understood her every word, the cat slowly went down the steps, stretching his long body, and wandered lazily around the corner of the house.
Jenny looked across the grassy front yard toward the dirt road that ran in front of the house. She could see a cloud of dust in the distance.
"Must be the mailman," she thought. "He's late today. I do hope we'll get a letter from Jason. That boy hasn't written since he went to South America."
Jenny started down the steps toward the mailbox at the side of the road. She realized that the approaching automobile was not Mr. Weathers, the mailman. It was a blue car pulling a U-Haul-It trailer. The car turned in the driveway and came to a halt. Jenny could see that it was occupied by two people, or was it three? The driver stopped the noisy engine and stepped from the car. A short heavy set man in a dingy white shirt and floppy brown necktie walked toward Jenny. He was smiling and Jenny sensed there was nothing to be alarmed about.
"Hello," the stranger said in a cheerful voice. "Is this the Jed Bentley place?"
"Yes," answered Jenny.
The man stuck out his right hand. "You must be Mrs. Bentley. I'm Thomas Wilson and this is my wife Cybele," indicating toward the car. "I'm the new pastor at your church."
"Mr. Wilson," Jenny replied, pumping his hand. "How nice to meet you. Get out Mrs. Wilson and come on in out of this heat."
The car door opened with a loud squawk as if it had been a long time without oil. The paint on the car was faded and scratched. The left back fender was dented and the side that Jenny saw was caked with dried mud. Mrs. Wilson stepped out and stretched her long arms high above her head. She was tall and slim. Long blond straight hair, parted in the middle fell around her shoulders and clung to the blue shirt that she was wearing. It was as faded as the blue jeans that dragged the ground around her bare feet.
A large black dog bounded over the front seat and dashed into the yard. It ran between Jenny and Mr. Wilson.
Jenny thought she had never seen such a big dog in all her life!
"Czar, get back in the car," Mr. Wilson commanded. "Cybele, keep the door open so he can get back in."
The dog did not obey. He spied Quincy, the cat, and took off after him. He began to bark with a loud throaty sound that made Jenny shiver.
"Mr. Wilson, is your dog friendly?" she stammered.
"You don't have a thing to worry about. This is one Doberman Pincher that is as friendly as can be."
"You all come on in," Jenny said. "I suppose when he gets done chasin' our cat, he'll come back."
In the meantime, Quincy had run up the nearest oak tree and was sitting on a limb looking down at the noisy creature below.
The dog jumped onto the far end of the porch. As Jenny held the door open, he squeezed in front of Mrs. Wilson and ran into the house. Both Mr. and Mrs. Wilson went in after him, shouting his name and telling him to come back. He ran down the hall, through the dining room and into the kitchen. With a loud crash, he knocked the back door screen open. Master and mistress followed the same trail.
Jenny went to the kitchen and watched from the doorway as they pursued the fast moving black object all over the backyard. Finally, the dog lay down flat on his belly, paws out front with his head resting on them as if he was ashamed of his performance.
"Cybele, go get his chain," Mr. Wilson said. "I'll hold him here. Czar, you aren't behaving very well. I guess you are tired of riding. You need to stretch your legs. Mrs. Bentley, do you mind if I tie him to your clothes line? That way he can get some exercise without disturbing anything."
"That will be fine, Mr. Wilson." Jenny thought that she was glad she had done her Monday morning wash early and had it back in the house.
Mrs. Wilson returned with the chain and with much urging they were able to tie the reluctant Czar to the clothes line.
"Mrs. Bentley, may I have a pan of water for him?" Mr. Wilson asked.
"Certainly," Jenny replied. "Look there at the well house and you'll find a pan. Fill it at the spigot. And you two come in and I'll fix you a glass of ice tea. I know you are about to perish after that chase."
Jenny went to the refrigerator, filled three glasses with ice and poured in sparkling tea from a pitcher. Ice tea could always be found in Jenny's refrigerator in the summer. She made a fresh gallon every morning.
The three of them sat down at Jenny's yellow topped dinette table.
"Well, let me have a look at you two," Jenny said. "Things have been happenin' so fast since you arrived, I really haven't seen you."
What Jenny saw was two people that looked as if they did not belong together. Mrs. Wilson was very pretty in a plain sort of way. Her long straight blond hair framed an oval shaped face. Her eyes were light blue with blond lashes. Fair skin held no sign of makeup and her lips, though pink, were their natural color. A wide mouth showed even white teeth when she smiled. Mr. Wilson was short and rather on the stocky side. Dark hair showing flecks of gray was very thin on the top of his head. Long sideburns grew down the ruddy sunburned face. His eyes were deep blue with thick dark brows.
Jenny spoke, "We were not expectin' you until next week. I'm afraid you'll find your house is a mess. Some of the ladies from the church and I planned to clean it later in the week. It has been some time since anyone lived there. Mr. and Mrs. Jones moved in April. Or I should say Mr. Jones moved. Poor old Mrs. Jones took sick and in four months she went to be with the Lord. Bless her heart, she had cancer."
"Mr. Jones was your former pastor?" Mr. Wilson asked.
"That's right, and a good one too," Jenny replied. "His health was failin', so he decided to go to Florida to live with one of their daughters. The house is all furnished, except for linens and dishes and of course groceries. Did you ride past it on your way here?"
"No," replied Mr. Wilson. "We stopped in Langdon and asked how to find your place. Your husband said in one of his letters that he kept the key to the parsonage and the church at your house."
"Yes," Jenny answered. Before she could say any more, a big man dressed in blue overalls and a checked shirt stepped through the kitchen door. Jed Bentley stood six feet four in his stocking feet and weighed at least 235 pounds. Beads of sweat stood on his sunburned face and trickled into the corners of his dark twinkling eyes.
Mr. Wilson stood up as Jed came in. They shook hands, exchanging names before Jenny could introduce them. Cybele quietly remained seated, but held out a dainty hand for Jed to squeeze in his big rough one.
"Let me get you same tea, honey," Jenny drawled.
"Thanks, I sure could use some. It is awfully hot for June.
Wonder what July will be like," Jed said, wiping his forehead with a red-bandana handkerchief. He sat down with the others around the table.
"Welcome to our home and community," Jed continued.
"Thank you," Mr. Wilson replied, smiling.
"That your dog tied to our clothesline?" Jed asked.
"Sure is," said Mr. Wilson. "I'm afraid he made a grand entrance into your home, and I must apologize for it. He ran through the house as if he owned it. Do you have a dog?"
"Yes, our Lady has been with us for seven years. Raised her from a pup. She is a full blooded collie and helps keep our cows in line. You know, I can trust that dog to drive all thirty-six cows from one pasture to another," Jed said with a faint brag in his voice.
"Thirty-six cows!" Mr. Wilson exclaimed, licking his lips. "That's a lot of steak!"
"They aren't beef cattle," Jed answered. "They are dairy cows."
"Anyway, that's a lot of milk and butter," laughed Mr. Wilson. "How do you manage all this, you must have some help?"
"Sure do," said Jed. "Ike Wade and his two sons are my main help. Ike lives in our tenant house. They are waitin' for me down in the south pasture. I came up here to get some staples and a new roll of wire. We have a fence down near the creek that needs repairin'. Come on and go with me and you can meet them and see a little of this land. But first, get shut of that necktie! Jenny, have you got some of that ice tea that you can send Ike and the boys?"
Jenny hurried to fix the tea. Mr. Wilson took off his tie and tossed it to Cybele.
"I'm going to call you Jed, and please call me Thomas. And that goes for you too, Jenny. No more of this Mr. Wilson. See you later, hon," Thomas called over his shoulder as the two men went out the door.
CHAPTER 2
Ike Wade leaned on the post hole diggers he was using. He removed his dirty cap from his sweaty head. He wiped his brown face with the sleeve of his shirt.
"This ground sure is hard," he commented.
"Don't know why this fence had to be fixed today. It's too hot to work," Sam Wade said lazily. He rolled from his back to his stomach in the cool green grass of the pasture. He had removed his shirt and the muscles in his chocolate colored arms and back glistened with beads of perspiration.
"You can say that while you loll around," Ike answered, lifting more dirt. "You don't even know what a day's work is."
"I'll never find out, if I can help it," Sam laughed. "Playing football is hard enough work."
"Don't let football go to your head, boy," his father answered. "You'd better get an education and maybe you won't have to work as hard as me and my pappy has."
Sam got up and lifted a new creosote coated post into the hole his father had finished. "All your work for Jed Bentley hasn't got you anywhere."
"You watch what you say. There isn't no better friend to me on this earth than Jed," Ike replied. "We grew up together. We used to swim and fish in that very creek." He pointed toward the creek that lazily made its way between banks lined with dark green bushes.
"Yeah" Sam retorted. "I've heard you tell all those tales before. I guess when I get older I'll recall all those times that Jason Bentley and I had fights. That sissy thinks he can play football, but he wasn't a drop in the bucket at Langdon High School compared to me. I'm glad that he was two years ahead of me. I really would have hated makin' him look bad." He laughed loudly.
Ike sat down on the grass, stretching his long legs. "I just never will understand you guys."
"Not much to understand." Sam replied. He took out a comb from his pocket and began picking his afro-hair-do that was getting limp from the heat. "I just plain do not like the Bentleys. That stuck up JoAnna makes me want to puke. I asked her to dance with me at our graduation ball. She turned me down flat. Man, those other girls thought it a pleasure to dance with the star football player."
"Sam, you have no cause to dislike the Bentleys. They've been good to us. They furnish the house we live in. They pay our salary and we're treated fair and square by them. You've eat a many a T-bone steak from the beef that Jed butchers and gives us every year. And whose land do the vegetables grow on that you put in your belly?"
"I still don't have to like them," Sam replied.
Junie Wade came up from the creek where he had been wading. He was three years younger than Sam. He was tall like Sam, but somewhat thinner.
"Still, I don't understand you either," Junie said, sitting down to put on his worn tennis shoes. "JoAnna never has treated me wrong. She and I have long talks about school and her horse."
"That's because you are younger than she is, little brother," Sam replied. "Come August and I'll be long gone from this place. If I had my way, I'd have gone to New York to stay with Uncle James and worked this summer. But no, you had to go and promise Jed Bentley that I'd stay here and work in this milk factory."
"You'd better be glad that you are here where you got some clean air to breath," his father said. "All that stuff that your Uncle James brags about ain't so. You think he owns that Cadillac he was drivin' the last time he came down here. Well, his new wife that he brought along told your mother that it was her car and she only lets him drive it." Ike let out a long laugh that echoed through the green pasture.
Junie spoke seriously, "Dad I been aimin' to bring somethin' up to you. It's about Aunt Tempie."
"What you talkin' about son?" his father asked.
"Well, last night after everybody was in bed, I wasn't sleepy, so I was lookin' out the window. The moon was shinin' and I saw somebody walkin' toward the old spring house. I was about to come in and wake you up, when I saw that it was Aunt Tempie."
"Where was she goin' at that time of night? She knows we have indoor plumbin'." Sam snickered.
"I don't know," answered Junie. "I watched a while longer and she came back and went into her room. I've seen her go out at night before."
"You and Mama are goin' to have to put that old crazy woman in an insane asylum," Sam declared. "I've known she was peculiar for a long time. Kids at school tease me about havin' a witch for an aunt. One of my dates one night asked me if my aunt made me any love potions.
I told her I didn't need any potions to make me know how to love!"
Ike scratched his head. "She always has made up herb medicines and give them to folks. I ain't never thought of her as no witch. Witches are mean and Aunt Tempie ain't got a mean bone in her old skinny body."
"Next time I see her go out at night, I'm goin' to follow her," Junie said.
"Better not Junie-boy, she might cast a spell on you and you'd turn into a frog," Sam teased.
"Hush such talk:" Ike said. "Here comes Jed with the wire. Looks like he's got somebody with him."
Jed introduced Mr. Wilson to the three Wades. He gave them the ice tea.
"Mighty nice of Miss Jenny," Ike said drinking his tea. "So you are the new preacher Jed's been telling us was comin' in."
"Jed tells me that you are a Christian," Mr. Wilson addressed Ike.
"That's right, sir." He rolled his big brown eyes. "I have loved and served the Lord for nigh onto twenty-five years," Ike replied humbly. "My pappy was a preacher and he wanted me to be one. The nearest I've got is bein' a deacon in my church."
"All do not receive the same spiritual gifts," Mr. Wilson said. Looking at Sam, "I hear you are a football player and have a scholarship."
"Yeah. I'll be going to the University in August. Junie is a good player, too."
"I like basketball better," Junie replied shyly.
"All this fresh air and sunshine is good for everybody," Mr. Wilson said. He breathed deeply and looked around him. "Where I've been living is full of smog."
"Would that have been California?" Sam asked.
"Yes, and I'm glad to be away from there."
"I've always wanted to go to California," Sam said dreamily.
"Perhaps you will one day," Mr. Wilson replied.
"One thing for certain, I'm not goin' to spend the rest of my life in this God forsaken place." Sam retorted.
Mr. Wilson hesitated a moment before speaking. "Sam, why do you call this place God forsaken? Look all around you-everywhere--you see God's creation. These rolling green hills, the willows along the creek, the tall majestic pine trees in the distance-no indeed this place isn't God forsaken! Remember the Psalm, 'I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.'"
"No sermons, please Preacher. I get enough of that from my Dad I just can't see spendin' all my life on a dairy farm. Especially one that belongs to somebody else." He jammed the post hole digger into the hard earth and came up with a scoop of red clay.
"What about you?" Mr. Wilson addressed Junie. "Do you share your brother's feelings?'"
"No, sir. I want to be a veterinarian and practice right here in my own county. I love animals."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Depart from Evil"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Joan Fields Long.
Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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