Royal had been through that before with women who wanted to be with her, but only until they met the right man. Then they were off to start a family of their own. They were always nice about breaking things off. Mostly, they just didn’t take a relationship with a woman seriously. It seemed that it was a placeholder until they found something real. The thought of those old hurts gave Royal’s stomach a sour turn.
She snapped the last handful of string beans and stirred the large bowl to make sure she’d gotten them all. Then she carried them to the kitchen where her mother was boiling glass jars for canning.
“I’m thinkin’ of going into town after I clean up.” Royal leaned against the kitchen sink, watching her mother work. “Do you need anything?”
“Check with your grandfather. We might be low on sugar.” Even though her mother was rarely directly involved with the still, she did manage to keep abreast of the raw ingredients distilling required.
“Okay, I’ll check with him. Is he feeling better? He seemed a little under the weather on Saturday.” Royal headed toward the bath at the back of the house.
“I haven’t seen him today so I guess when you see him you’ll know more than I do.” She didn’t look up from her task at the stove.
❖
It was well after lunch before Royal made it to the general mercantile in town. Dawsonville was a sleepy town in the summertime. Folks moved slowly in the heat and humidity, not wanting to overexert and ruin their fresh shirts by breaking a sweat rushing about. Ladies fanned themselves as they chatted together on shady benches. Gentlemen gathered on the sheltered porch of the long, low building, smoking and talking. Overalls and white shirts turned up to the elbow were the usual attire. Royal nodded hello as she walked past a small group of men. She knew most of them from her nighttime deliveries.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior space. The general store stocked almost every item you could think of. Shoes, hats, fishing poles, baskets, and bolts of cloth sat along shelves that ran down the length of the far wall. There was a long counter, part of which was a glass case containing all manner of smaller items. There was a colorful assortment of penny candies, pocketknives, matches, and other sundries. Royal headed toward the back counter, past more shelves stacked with canned goods.
“Hiya, Royal.” A stout older fellow behind the counter spoke to Royal as she walked up.
“Hey, Smiley. Could I get two ten-pound bags of sugar and one of those bottled Cokes?” Doug “Smiley” Sims’s nickname suited him as he grinned at Royal over the glass case while she fished in her pocket for some cash.
“Comin’ right up.” He popped the top on the cola he’d lifted out of a cooling bin with ice, and handed it across the counter. “Gonna be a warm one today.”
“Yep, matter of fact, it already is.” Royal sipped the soda and looked around the expansive, cluttered interior space. It took a minute before she saw Lovey, peeking around a magazine rack at the other side of the store. The bags of sugar forgotten, she headed over.
Once she was within a few feet of Lovey, nerves got the best of her. She shoved her free hand deep into her trouser pocket and rocked back on her heels. “Hey,” was all she could manage.
“Hey, yourself.” Lovey smiled. Royal couldn’t tell if Lovey was the least bit nervous, which only added to her discomfort.
“I was hoping I’d run into you.” Royal kept her voice low.
“So was I.” Lovey flipped the pages of the magazine in her hand absently. Was she trying to seem nonchalant? Or was she actually that calm? Royal wasn’t sure.
“I didn’t know how to reach you,” Lovey said.
“Yeah, we need to sort that out.” Royal offered the cola to Lovey. “Would you like a sip?”
“Sure.” Lovey took a long draw from the bottle, never breaking eye contact with Royal as her mouth touched the glass lip. Butterflies the size of hummingbirds were crowding Royal’s stomach. Just the sight of Lovey and any attention paid to her red lips was more than Royal’s nervous system could apparently tolerate. She needed to figure out a way to get Lovey alone and away from nosy bystanders.
“Here’s your sugar, Royal,” said Smiley.
“Thank you!” Royal turned back to Lovey. “Can I offer you a ride home?”
Lovey nodded, smiling. She handed the soda back to Royal, but just as she did, something caught her eye over Royal’s shoulder. Royal turned and followed Lovey’s gaze. Joe Dawson had just stepped through the front door of the shop.
“That’s Joe. Do you know him?”
“Yes, my father and I had lunch with his family yesterday after the Sunday service. I should say hello.” Lovey gave Joe a small wave.
“I’ll pay for the sugar, then we can go if you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Lovey moved toward the door. She thought she might get outside with just a friendly wave to Joe when she knew he’d noticed her, but he met up with her halfway across the room. She checked to see that Royal was still at the back counter settling up for the sugar before refocusing her attention on Joe.
“Hi, Lovey. What a nice surprise.”
“Hello, Joe. It was nice to eat lunch with your family yesterday. And thank you for the walk after.” Joe and Lovey had strolled all around the Dawson farm. Joe had talked nonstop about his plans for the place, which he would inherit at some point as the only son. They had quite a spread. Lovey had learned the county was even named after a Dawson ancestor. He’d stopped and introduced her to each of his quarter horses. He’d been interesting enough, and she’d enjoyed his company, although on
