Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family] Read Free Page B

one of my men, Del Grissom,” John explained, introducing Charlotte to the man who had followed him from the depot.
    “Nice to meet you,” Del offered with a tip of his dusty hat. He was much younger than his boss; his thick coal black hair
     fell from beneath the hat’s brim and framed a worn, narrow face. Occasionally, his left eye gave a sort of nervous tic, all
     of its own accord. Still, he looked to Charlotte to be a hardworking, pleasant man.
    “Your trip weren’t too hard, I hope,” John said.
    “Not at all,” she said. “It was wonderful to see a different landscape. It sure is a far cry from what we have in Minnesota.”
    “Even so, my thinkin’ is that people who spend too much time in one of them iron contraptions,” John said, nodding at the
     idling train, “find themselves needing a washbasin and a few hours of shut-eye. Once we’re back on the ranch, you’ll have
     a chance to have both.”
    When Charlotte’s heavy black trunk in which she’d packed away all of the life she had known was unloaded from the train with
     a heavy thud, John and Del each grabbed an end and hoisted it up as if it were lighter than a bale of hay, and headed for
     the end of the platform.
    Charlotte followed along behind, smiling with every step.
    John Grant drove the old truck from the station and headed down Sawyer’s main street with Charlotte in thepassenger’s seat. Del sat in the truck’s bed, riding alongside her baggage. Glancing back, she saw that he seemed content
     to travel in the back, one arm resting upon the truck’s railing as the afternoon sun shone brilliantly down.
    As they drove, John pointed out all of the sights in town; from the post office, to the grocer’s, and even to the theater,
     Charlotte felt dizzy with all of the information that was being sent her way. The streets were lively with people going into
     the stores and other places of business. John explained that they were trying to get their business done before the sun got
     to be too much to bear.
    “Folks in these parts ain’t too complicated, not like in a city,” John explained, giving a wave out the window. “They go to
     church, look after their loved ones, and say, ‘Howdy,’ to their neighbors. They like things to be simple, but that doesn’t
     mean they’re simple folks, if you know what I mean.”
    “I do.” Charlotte nodded. “Sawyer sounds a lot like where I come from.”
    “Good folks is good folks, no matter where they call home.”
    Occasionally, John would give the truck’s horn a brief tap and yell out the window at someone he knew.
    “There’s Carlton Timmons’ barber shop,” John told her, pointing out the business as they passed. “Known Carl ’bout all my
     life, and except for one reservation, I can say he’s as fine a man as this town’s ever produced.”
    “What’s that one thing?” Charlotte asked.
    “He’s one hell of a cheat at cards,” John answered. “You ain’t a fancier of poker, are you?”
    “No, I can’t say that I am. Are you?”
    “Used to be, but I ain’t no more on account of Carl!” John exclaimed.
    Soon, the truck passed by the last business that lined Sawyer’s Main Street and took a gentle turn alongside the dried-up
     remnants of a creek’s bed. In an instant, the sights of the town had vanished, replaced by the same kind of scrabbly earth
     as she had seen from the train.
    “Where’s the school?” Charlotte asked, looking around, wondering just where it was that she would be spending her days.
    “Back on the eastern side of town,” John explained, thumbing over his shoulder back toward where they had come. “Since it’s
     the opposite direction from the depot, I figured it’d be best to wait until the next visit into town ’fore givin’ you a chance
     to become acquainted with it. School won’t be startin’ for a few more weeks, so there’s plenty of time.”
    “Is the ranch far from Sawyer?” Even as she asked her questions, Charlotte