Dunaway's Crossing Read Free Page B

approach and pull over next to them. Thaddeus Taylor, a bear of a man, pushed himself out of the driver’s seat and lumbered over to where Will and Terrence stood. “Whatcha know, Will?”
    “About ready for business, thanks to your son’s help.”
    “Glad he’s been some assistance to you.” Thaddeus nodded to his son with a look of pride and said, “I come by to offer you a ride home. You ready?”
    “Yes, sir,” Terrence replied.
    “Just a minute, Terrence,” Will interjected. “I’ll go inside and draft you a check.”
    Terrence shoved his toe into the red dirt. He eyed his father, as if for approval, before saying, “You ain’t got to pay me, Will. Instead, could I fish in your lake some time or another?”
    “Now, don’t be silly, Terrence.” With hands on hips, Will cocked his head at the boy and his father. “You worked too hard not to be paid. Besides, your land has almost a whole mile of lakefront. You have access to the water.”
    Terrence studied the ground again before glancing at Thaddeus. Putting two and two together, Will chastised his neighbor. “Did you put him up to this?”
    “You ain’t got to pay him, Will. We’re happy to help out, help you get back on your feet again.”
    Will sighed. Why did the Taylors feel guilty about taking over the Dunaway property? He’d much rather see them take the land than some stranger.
    “It was my father went broke before he died,” Will said, “not me. I have money. Now I’m paying the boy. He’s earned it.” To Terrence, he said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
    Inside, the empty store smelled of sawdust. Will stepped behind the front counter, opened the drawer underneath, and pulled out his check binder. He wrote a draft to Terrence Taylor, ripped out the check, and took it outside, where he tucked it into Terrence’s shirt pocket.
    “Thank you, Will,” Terrence said.
    “Why don’t you come to the house for dinner?” Thaddeus asked.
    “I appreciate it, but I’ve got a lot of work to do if I want to open shop Monday. I’ll eat a quick bite here.”
    “What, a can of sardines?”
    “Nothing wrong with that. They’re good for you,” Will argued.
    “Eliza’s right, Will,” Thaddeus chided. “You need to find yourself a good woman to take care of you.”
    Will bristled at the mention of marriage. People suggested that almost as much as purchasing a Model T. Amazing he didn’t have more time on his hands with so many people minding his business for him.
    “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he said. “Right now, I got my hands full with this store.” Although he received war benefits, that modest income could never support a business. He’d sunk his small inheritance into the store. He needed it to thrive.
    “If you’re opening Monday, you’ll need to give it a name,” Terrence said.
    Will lifted his eyebrows. He hadn’t thought of that. “You got any ideas?”
    Both Thaddeus and Terrence surveyed the building and grounds, as if the name would appear from behind a bush.
    “You’re at a corner,” Thaddeus said. “How ’bout Will’s Corner?”
    “Hmm.” Will shook his head with uncertainty. “That sounds more like a soda pop stand. What about something plain like Pineview General Store?”
    “Nope,” Terrence said. “You got to have your name in it somewhere.” He stared at the crossroads that lay just beyond the building. After a pause, his face lit up. “This here’s Dunaway’s Crossing.”

C hapter 3

    E ven as she kept to the shady side of Whitaker Street, sweat trickled between California’s braids and tickled her scalp. Why hadn’t Miss Bea Dot sent her to the stationer’s early in the day? Thanks to Miss Lavinia’s tongue, news of Miss Bea Dot’s miscarriage had raced over the telephone lines. Now, even though Dr. Arnold ordered peace and quiet, the Ferguson household had been flooded with visitors bringing flowers, food, and sympathy. Now Miss Bea Dot had run out of paper