IS THIS WHAT LOVE FEELS LIKE?
Against his better judgment, Zac led Bessie to the gypsy camp. It was closer to the dance hall than Bessie's house was in the immediate moment and it was easily the safest place he could take her. He didn't necessarily like taking her to the camp, even though she'd been there before, as it still made him feel uneasy for her to see the way he lived.
"Zac, they know where you live," she objected as they finally slowed to a stop closer to the camp. "What's going to stop them from coming here?"
"Nobody's gonna come here," he replied. "People are scared of this place. Nobody comes out here."
"There's nothing to be afraid of out here--"
"They don't know that. They think the gypsies are dangerous savages and that we're not much better for living among them."
Bessie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. "Zac," she whispered. "That's horrible, that's not true at all. Everyone is so lovely here--"
Zac smiled, touched by her acceptance of him and the community he lived in. He longed so much to see the world through Bessie's eyes. He longed to see the good in everything and everyone. He longed to trust openly and freely and he longed to wear his heart and his emotions on his sleeve. But most of all, he longed to be a better man--and she was becoming his inspiration.
"I like it that way, though," he replied. "Nobody bothers us. It's peaceful here. It's safe."
"It's home," she finished.
His smile widened. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."
She flashed a bright grin across her innocent face and Zac melted in an instant. "I like it here. I feel safe here."
"Do you?" He asked in awe.
Bessie nodded. Then her smile faded. "But it won't stop those guys from finding you elsewhere."
In the dark of the trees at the edge of the camp's clearing, under the bright moonlight, Zac took his sweetheart gently by the waist and pulled her close to him. "Bessie, baby," he said softly. "You don't have to worry about me. That guy's not gonna tell anyone that a gypsy put him on the ground like that. Men have too much pride for that sort of thing."
"Yeah, but--"
"No buts. If anyone's gonna pummel me, it's gonna be your father. If they haven't already, someone's going to find Billy on the ground and discover you missing."
She shook her head, her eyes wide. "Zac, no--no, I don't want to--"
"I know," he whispered. "But I have to take you home."
She shook her head again, more rapidly this time, and gripped his arms above his elbows. "No," she objected. "No, I only just got to see you again. I missed you so much."
"I know," he said again. "But they'll be looking for you soon--"
"Let them look," she replied anxiously. "I'm an adult, I can do as I please."
Zac looked at her face as she ripped his heart out of his chest. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had gotten loose during their run from the dance hall. "Bess," he whispered. "I missed you, too. I don't want to take you home. But I have to. I have to do the right thing."
Her face fell in disappointment, though he could tell that she understood. However, in the faintest of whispers, she said, "I don't want to go."
Lifting her chin with his knuckle, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Meet me at our tree tomorrow after church if you think you can get away."
"That's so far away," she whispered. "I don't want to miss you again."
He took her face with his hand and swept his thumb gently across her soft cheek. "This isn't easy for me, either," he said softly. "But it'll go by so fast. When you close your eyes tonight, I'll come to you in your dreams, just like you come to me in mine. And when you say your prayers in church in the morning, I'll be saying the same prayers. And when our prayers are answered, we'll be together again at our tree--faster than you can open your eyes. Okay?"
Bessie nodded, gently sniffing back her tears. "Okay," she whispered.
And then he took her breath when he kissed her. He inhaled her, needing her warmth and her spirit and the goodness of her soul. At this time, a week ago, he had spoken to her for the first time. Now he couldn't live without her.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Around nine o'clock Saturday evening, Judge Jim Harlow answered the telephone as it rang. "Harlow Residence."
"Judge Harlow, this is Deputy Carroll," the voice came through on the other end.
"Well, hello, deputy," the judge replied cheerfully. "What can I do you for?"
"I, uh, I thought I should call and let you know that some people found the Connors boy beaten up on the ground outside the social tonight. He's got a busted nose and they think maybe a couple of broken ribs, too."
Jim's heart sank into his stomach. "Where's my daughter?"
The deputy sighed. "Nobody knows where she is, your honor."
Jim fell silent in thought. He didn't know if he should have been angry or concerned, though he was almost completely sure that he knew exactly where she was. Every single bit of this story reeked of Zac Hanson somehow. It made way too much sense. Unhappy with Bessie's date, he comes to the dance, beats up the date, and takes his girl. And the judge was willing to bet that Bessie went right along with him.
"Your honor," the deputy's voice came through again, interrupting Jim's thoughts. "Do you want to, uh, you know, file a missing persons--?"
"No," Jim answered abruptly.
"But, Judge--"
"I said it wasn't necessary," he snapped. "Thank you for phoning me. Goodnight."
Hanging the receiver back on the hook, he turned around and was startled to find his wife standing behind him. "Jim?" She asked, her face filled with fear. "What's the matter? Where's Bessie?"
Looking at his wife's fearful eyes made the judge even angrier at the situation. "There was an incident at the dance--"
"Jim--"
"She's with that gypsy."
The fear left Catherine's eyes, a notion that made Jim slightly disdainful, and now she appeared more confused than anything. "What? But--but how do you know that?"
"Because I know. And you know it, too."
She furrowed her brow in confusion and shook her head. "She left the house with Billy..."
"Oh, come now, Cathy, it's really not that hard to figure out. They found Billy beaten up outside the dance and Bessie was nowhere in sight. Think about it."
"You think--? You think Zac did it?"
"I think it's pretty obvious."
"No," Catherine said, shaking her head. "No. I don't care what you think of him or whether you think he's good for our daughter or not, but he's a nice boy and he wouldn't do anything to hurt a hair on our daughter's head. Jim, that's not right. We have to find our daughter."
"Trust me, Cathy, if my gut told me she was in danger, I'd be up and down the streets with my shotgun right now."
"Oh," Catherine suddenly snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "So you don't like the idea of our daughter spending time with Zac, but the idea that she might be with him somewhere right now isn't sending you running out the door? Honestly, Jim, I just don't know what to do with you anymore."
"I never said the guy was dangerous, Catherine, I just said he can't give her a future!"
"Then let her be happy right now!"
Jim let out a breath of exasperation and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "If you need me, I'll be on the front porch, waiting for our daughter to come home."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then I'll be at that gypsy camp first thing in the morning."
Making his way across the room and to the door, he stopped short at the storm door when he saw the two silhouettes standing at the road under the moonlight. They held hands as they spoke to each other and then he watched his daughter throw her arms tightly around his neck. They lingered for a moment before he gently kissed his daughter, and then he stood at the top of the road and watched Bessie bound toward the front porch--and face-to-face with the judge.
Bessie's eyes widened and a gasp caught in her throat as she stopped in her tracks on the porch. Wordlessly, Jim opened the door and stood back to let her in. Meekly, Bessie walked past him and straight into her mother's arms.
Letting out a breath in an attempt to calm himself before he spoke, he looked at Bessie and said to her, "I just got a phone call. Billy Connors has a busted nose and two broken ribs and you came home with another man. Care to explain how you've been just randomly running amuck all over Tulsa tonight?"
"I haven't been running amuck all over anywhere," Bessie objected quietly. Then she lifted her chin in defiant confidence. "Zac brought me home."
"Zac," Jim repeated quietly. "So we're still on that."
Bessie narrowed her eyes at her father. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I think it would be best if you stopped seeing him. He's trouble."
Devastation washed over his daughter's face and her jaw dropped. "He is not trouble--!"
"He is trouble and no daughter of mine will be associated with gypsies and hooligans!"
"He's not a gypsy, Daddy, he makes an honest living!"
"You think pick-pocketing and conning people out of their hard-earned money is honest?"
"It's not his fault if they're willing to spend it!"
Jim paused and let out a sigh as he looked at his daughter. He didn't want her to know she'd stumped him with the point she made. The fact of the matter was, he knew the boy wasn't a bad guy and he couldn't very well use it in an argument. To make his case weaker, his daughter spoke again. "Billy was mean to me, Daddy. I told you I didn't want to go out with him and you made me anyway, and he was mean to me!"
"Mean?" Jim argued. "That's the story you're going to tell? You're going to pretend like you and Zac didn't plan this whole thing, regardless of who I sent you out with?"
"We didn't plan to meet there, he just showed up! And it's a good thing, too, because I was having a positively horrible time. Billy didn't pay a bit of attention to me all night long because he was more interested in goofing off with his friends. So when Zac showed up, I went out to dance with him. And then Billy called me a dumb broad and Zac gave him what he deserved. And that's what happened. We ran so that the rest of Billy's friends wouldn't gang up on him. I like Zac, Daddy. He asked me to go steady with him and I said yes! Zac is my beau and there's nothing that you, or anyone else, can do about it!"
With that, Bessie tore past her father and stormed up the staircase, the slamming of her bedroom door as the grand finale.
Jim was livid. He face burned with rage and his fist balled up tight before he pounded it against the railing of the staircase and snapped at his wife, "What is wrong with our daughter?"
"There is nothing wrong with her," Catherine sneered. "But I warned you before and I'll say it again. If you don't fix your relationship with her, we'll lose her forever. She will run right out of this house and straight into his arms and we'll never see her again. She will grow up to resent you and we will never meet our grandchildren. Maybe you need to focus more on her future with you rather than her future with him."
As if on cue, Bessie came flying back down the stairs, her arms filled with linens and pillows. Catherine looked on in horror as Jim's eyes widened. "Beatrice, what is the meaning of this?"
"I am not spending the night in this house," she snapped through her tears. "I'm going to find Scout outside and I'm taking him camping."
"You will do no such thing--!"
"I AM AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME!" Bessie's voice carried shrill through the house and she made a spectacle of slamming the door.
Jim was speechless and he knew his daughter was right. He couldn't stop her. He was losing all control of his household and he felt like his world was crumbling down around him. He was losing his daughter and his wife was against him.
His feelings now more hurt than anything, he turned around and faced his wife, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's starting now," her voice cracked. "I understand how you feel about him. I get it. But our daughter doesn't see life the same way we do. She sees people, she doesn't see class or dollar signs. She lives her life the way she feels it. And right now she wants to spend it with him. I, personally, can't see anything wrong with it. You can't walk around here pretending she's going to marry the first man she falls in love with--"
"Catherine--"
"I understand that you're her father and it's hard to let her go. But she is an adult now. And she's going to be leaving the house for school soon and then what are we going to do without her? Don't let her leave here resenting you--or the both of us. You have to let her make her own decisions. You have to trust her. It's part of raising children."
"Cathy, I just--I just want what's best for her. I want you and--and I want her to understand that. But can't you see she's changing? He's changing her, she's becoming bitter and--"
"You're changing her, Jim. Your differences with her are finally coming to light and neither of you have learned how to deal with them yet. She's getting her first taste of real freedom, she has her first crush--these are milestones she should have come to a long time ago. But she's reaching them now and now she's not so easy to control because she is an adult. You can't control her anymore, Jim. You can only accept her and love her. It's why she and I are so close."
"But now she's--now she's out there alone, outside--"
"She's probably in the barn. This wouldn't be the first time she's ever spent the night in the barn. She has the dog with her, she'll come back inside in the morning in time for breakfast."
"How can you be so calm about this?"
Catherine smiled gently. "Because I know Bessie. And I know the only danger she's in out there tonight is the possibility of being eaten by a coyote--and Scout will get to it first. Don't worry so much. Just come to bed and we'll try to sort this out tomorrow. Okay?"
Reluctantly, Jim helped his wife turn off the lights and followed her upstairs. He was almost certain of what was going to happen the moment they closed the bedroom door. But it didn't help the uneasy knot that sat deep in the pit of his stomach.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Bessie's angry tears had dried by the time she set off into the woods, balancing the linens on her bicycle's handlebars. Whistling and calling for Scout had been done half-heartedly as she didn't expect him to hear her from three miles away at the gypsy camp. However, she was pleasantly surprised when he came tearing out of the woods at full speed and jumped on her, his tail wagging a mile a minute. The kisses he left on her face made her giggle and it made her feel a little better and she set off into the woods with her adopted dog trailing happily behind her.
As she came to the clearing where she would find their tree, she hopped off of her bicycle, adjusted the linens that sat on the handlebars, and began to walk her bicycle through. Once she stepped out into the grass, she stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. There, under the moonlight, sitting against the tree as the trunk's roots enveloped him, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. And he grew more and more breathtaking every time she laid eyes on him.
"Zac?" She asked, surprised.
She had startled him. He jumped up and dusted off the back of his pants. "Bessie?" He replied, making his way toward her. "What are you doing here?"
As he closed the gap between them, she hooked her arm tightly around his shoulder and ran her other hand through the back of his hair as she kissed him with need and desperation. She couldn't stop kissing him and she didn't want to. For the rest of her life, all she ever wanted to do was hold him and kiss him and never let him go.
"Bessie," he whispered again as he broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. "What are you doing here?"
"I ran away," she whispered back. "Well. Maybe not exactly. I told them I was camping tonight."
"You walked out on your parents?"
"Yeah." Then she pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Zac, nobody's going to keep me away from you. And--and if you want me to leave you alone tonight, I'll go sleep in the barn, I've done it before, I just--I didn't know you were going to be here. And I came here to feel close to you."
"Oh, Bessie," he whispered, taking her face gently in his hands. "My sweet Bessie. I don't ever want you to leave me alone."
"Stay with me tonight. I mean, I've--well, I've never shared a bed with a boy--uh, a--a man before, but--"
"You can trust me," he smiled.
She returned his smile shyly, in no hurry to leave his embrace. "What are you doing here?"
"I, um, I stopped to spend a few minutes alone before I went home. It's Saturday night, so no doubt there's some kind of bonfire-type party going on at the camp tonight."
Bessie's smile turned into a grin. "That sounds like it might be fun."
"They can be. But tonight I needed the quiet."
"I'm sorry I interrupted you," she whispered.
"No. I wasn't doing anything more than what I always do lately--think of you and wish on stars. And now here you are. And I am so happy to see you. I didn't want this night to end."
Finally she did break away from him so that she could retrieve her bicycle and the linens she'd brought along to form her bed. She was extremely nervous, but comforted at the same time, that Zac would be staying the night with her. This would be the first time she'd ever shared any kind of bed with a man. And while he said she could trust him, and she did, she was still nervous, not knowing what to expect or if he expected anything, either.
Propping her bicycle up against the tree, Zac then helped her spread out the blankets she'd brought. Two on the bottom and one to cover up with and she felt embarrassed that she'd only brought one pillow, but Zac didn't seem to mind. As she would come to discover later, having only one pillow would work out just fine anyway.
Bessie kicked off her shoes and tucked her dress and her knees underneath her as she sat on the blanket under the moonlight. "I didn't even change into my night clothes," she said shyly. "I guess it's a good thing, though, because I would be embarrassed for you to see me in them."
Zac smiled as he made himself comfortable beside her. "Kinda like you saw me in mine unexpectedly the other morning?"
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have intruded--"
"I mean, I didn't mind. I'm pretty sure you wear more to bed than I do anyway."
Bessie's cheeks grew hot and she ducked her head, ashamed of the visual that formed in her head from the memory of him standing in his trailer doorway without a shirt on. As if reading her mind, he leaned over and nudged her shoulder and grinned. "Don't worry. I'll keep my clothes on tonight."
She found herself giggling, unable to help herself, and relieved that she didn't have to worry about any possible expectations. It was apparent that Zac didn't have any and she was glad for it.
Adjusting the pillows behind him, Zac leaned his back against the trunk of the tree and pulled Bessie between his legs and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She melted in an instant, the feeling of being in his arms instantly taking away anything negative that weighed heavy on her shoulders. His arms were her comfort, his warmth was her savior, and his embrace made it impossible for anything to hurt her.
As she rested the back of her head comfortably against him, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Bessie spoke up and said, "Zac? Tell me about your mother."
Zac was silent for a moment before she heard him clear his throat lightly. "Uh, my mother?"
"Yes. You haven't told me much of anything about your parents, but the little bit you have said, it seems like she was a lovely woman."
She felt his arms tighten around her and his lips pressed into the material of the dress on her shoulder as he delayed his response. Finally he replied, "My mother was beautiful. Inside and out. She was everything to me and I worshipped the ground she walked on. She had this--this long, blonde hair that cascaded down her back like--like a golden waterfall. I loved her hair. When I was a small boy she used to let me brush it and I would just sit and brush it for what felt like hours. Isaac made fun of me for it, but I didn't care. I cherished every moment I ever spent with her."
"If--if the tables were turned and it was...you know, if it was me in your position and you in mine--would your mother dislike you being with me?"
"No. No, she wasn't like that. My mother was accepting of everyone and all she wanted was for me and my brothers to be happy. She taught us a lot, she taught us about life and love...and acceptance. My mother was my inspiration. She still is."
"She must be the reason why you're such a good person."
"I try to be a good person. If she was alive right now, I'd want her to be proud of me."
"I'm sure she's proud of you even now. She's smiling down right now, proud of the man you grew up to be. She was a very lucky woman to have been your mother."
"Except I haven't done anything worth being proud of," he said quietly. "I haven't made anything of myself. I have nothing going for me. I failed her, Bessie. I failed her and I can't take it back."
"Oh, Zac," she whispered. "I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself. I wish you could see what I see--"
"I couldn't save her," he continued. "Or my father. I mean, I could have, but I didn't. If--if Ike and Tay and I hadn't been traveling the country, following what would prove to be...stupid, empty dreams and just stayed home, then that damn sick banker wouldn't have ever had to come to the house and they'd have never gotten sick and--and I loved having our act, but I would gladly have lived the rest of my life with a shovel and a pick in my hand if that meant saving my parents' lives. I failed them, Bessie. I feel like--I feel like I killed them." She felt his breath stagger against her all of a sudden and his voice began to crack. "I did it. I--I left them and I failed them and I killed them. And I can't take any of it back."
And with that, she felt his body shake with the heart-wrenching sobs that escaped his throat and the hurt she felt for him was overwhelming. The tears sprang to her eyes as she climbed to her knees and turned around to face him, taking him in her arms and letting him cling to her as if his life depended on her. She stroked his long hair as he sobbed into her shoulder and she allowed him to cry. It was obvious that he needed to let it out and she was honored that he felt comfortable enough to express himself in front of her.
She didn't attempt to quiet him, but she did attempt to soothe him. She remembered what her mother had said to her, about how he and his brothers had nobody to reassure them at the time of their parents' death and her heart had broken for them then, just as it did now. "It's okay," she whispered to him softly as she stroked his hair and felt the death grip his arms had around her body. "Everything is okay."
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
She didn't respond. She suspected his apology hadn't exactly been directed at her, so she let him continue to pour himself out. Instead, she wrapped her arms tighter around him and let her fingers trail gently through his hair.
After a minute or two, his sobs began to subside and he loosened his grip on her. He lifted his head and his tear-streaked face glistened in the moonlight. "That feels good," he whispered, his voice weak and vulnerable. It was like looking back in time, at Zac as a small boy, and her heart went out to him.
"What does?" She asked gently.
"What you were just doing with my hair."
She looked at him for a moment longer and then she wiped the tears from his face for him. Then she backed up off of him and she whispered gently, "Come here."
Sitting back on the blanket, she tucked her dress around her legs and sat Indian-style as she pulled Zac close to her. Following her lead, he lay down on his back and she positioned his head in her lap, pulling his hair out from underneath his neck and splaying it across her lap. "Sometimes when I'm upset, my mama does this with me. She plays with my hair until I calm down." She began to brush her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes against the night sky. "Sometimes she braids it or twists it, but mostly she just runs her fingers through it. It works every time."
He took in a breath through his nose and he let out a content sigh. "Bessie," he whispered. "I wish I knew how to tell you how you make me feel. I've just--nobody's ever made me feel the way you do. I've never...felt like I mattered before...well, before you came along."
"You always mattered, Zac. You mattered before me, you matter now. You're everything to me. Always know that."
"That's good enough for me."
Bessie smiled as she continued to play with his hair. She brushed and she braided and she twisted and she listened to Zac give her an astronomy lesson as he stared up at the stars from her lap. He drew out constellations for her and taught her the history of their names. He taught her how the stars were a source of navigation and then he pointed out the North Star. "That one is called Polaris, even though we know it as the North Star."
"The Wise Men followed that star to Jesus's manger when he was born," Bessie said, proud of herself that she could contribute to his impromptu lesson.
"That, they did," he smiled. "It's the biggest and brightest star in the sky. It belongs to you."
Bessie furrowed her brow in confusion and looked up at the sky. "What?"
"It's my star for you. When I wish for you, I wish on that one. If I could take a star from the sky and give it to you, it would be that one. Because it's the most beautiful. Just like you."
"Oh, Zac," she whispered, her heart melting.
He lifted his head and he turned to look up at her. "Are you ready to sleep now? Because I need to hold you."
Bessie nodded, taken aback by his words as she always was. Following his lead, they moved to the top of the makeshift bed and he tucked them under the blanket she'd brought along. The ground beneath them was hard, despite doubling up on the material, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the way Zac held her close against him and softly kissed her lips. He smiled at her, their noses nearly touching, and she felt his fingers mindlessly scratching her back. "I think I'm spoiled," he said quietly. "I don't think I could ever sleep alone after tonight."
"I don't think I want to," she replied.
"What's happening to us, Bess? I've never fallen for anyone so fast in my life."
"I don't know. I've never fallen for anyone before, ever. I--I don't know anything about anything."
"Just know that I'm the luckiest man in the world. And you made it so."
"Zac? Is this--is this what love feels like?"
He stared at her for a moment and she wished she'd never asked such a forward question. She was immediately mortified. "I've never been in love before," he whispered.
"Neither have I."
Running the backs of his fingers along her cheek, he trailed his hand underneath her hair and entangled his fingers in it as he took her mouth again. Rolling over onto his back, she lay her chest over his as he held her face in his hands and continued to kiss her deeply, with purpose. That night she kissed him until they fell asleep, her first night sleeping in the open, under the stars, as magical as anything she'd ever experienced.
Against his better judgment, Zac led Bessie to the gypsy camp. It was closer to the dance hall than Bessie's house was in the immediate moment and it was easily the safest place he could take her. He didn't necessarily like taking her to the camp, even though she'd been there before, as it still made him feel uneasy for her to see the way he lived.
"Zac, they know where you live," she objected as they finally slowed to a stop closer to the camp. "What's going to stop them from coming here?"
"Nobody's gonna come here," he replied. "People are scared of this place. Nobody comes out here."
"There's nothing to be afraid of out here--"
"They don't know that. They think the gypsies are dangerous savages and that we're not much better for living among them."
Bessie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. "Zac," she whispered. "That's horrible, that's not true at all. Everyone is so lovely here--"
Zac smiled, touched by her acceptance of him and the community he lived in. He longed so much to see the world through Bessie's eyes. He longed to see the good in everything and everyone. He longed to trust openly and freely and he longed to wear his heart and his emotions on his sleeve. But most of all, he longed to be a better man--and she was becoming his inspiration.
"I like it that way, though," he replied. "Nobody bothers us. It's peaceful here. It's safe."
"It's home," she finished.
His smile widened. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."
She flashed a bright grin across her innocent face and Zac melted in an instant. "I like it here. I feel safe here."
"Do you?" He asked in awe.
Bessie nodded. Then her smile faded. "But it won't stop those guys from finding you elsewhere."
In the dark of the trees at the edge of the camp's clearing, under the bright moonlight, Zac took his sweetheart gently by the waist and pulled her close to him. "Bessie, baby," he said softly. "You don't have to worry about me. That guy's not gonna tell anyone that a gypsy put him on the ground like that. Men have too much pride for that sort of thing."
"Yeah, but--"
"No buts. If anyone's gonna pummel me, it's gonna be your father. If they haven't already, someone's going to find Billy on the ground and discover you missing."
She shook her head, her eyes wide. "Zac, no--no, I don't want to--"
"I know," he whispered. "But I have to take you home."
She shook her head again, more rapidly this time, and gripped his arms above his elbows. "No," she objected. "No, I only just got to see you again. I missed you so much."
"I know," he said again. "But they'll be looking for you soon--"
"Let them look," she replied anxiously. "I'm an adult, I can do as I please."
Zac looked at her face as she ripped his heart out of his chest. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had gotten loose during their run from the dance hall. "Bess," he whispered. "I missed you, too. I don't want to take you home. But I have to. I have to do the right thing."
Her face fell in disappointment, though he could tell that she understood. However, in the faintest of whispers, she said, "I don't want to go."
Lifting her chin with his knuckle, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Meet me at our tree tomorrow after church if you think you can get away."
"That's so far away," she whispered. "I don't want to miss you again."
He took her face with his hand and swept his thumb gently across her soft cheek. "This isn't easy for me, either," he said softly. "But it'll go by so fast. When you close your eyes tonight, I'll come to you in your dreams, just like you come to me in mine. And when you say your prayers in church in the morning, I'll be saying the same prayers. And when our prayers are answered, we'll be together again at our tree--faster than you can open your eyes. Okay?"
Bessie nodded, gently sniffing back her tears. "Okay," she whispered.
And then he took her breath when he kissed her. He inhaled her, needing her warmth and her spirit and the goodness of her soul. At this time, a week ago, he had spoken to her for the first time. Now he couldn't live without her.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Around nine o'clock Saturday evening, Judge Jim Harlow answered the telephone as it rang. "Harlow Residence."
"Judge Harlow, this is Deputy Carroll," the voice came through on the other end.
"Well, hello, deputy," the judge replied cheerfully. "What can I do you for?"
"I, uh, I thought I should call and let you know that some people found the Connors boy beaten up on the ground outside the social tonight. He's got a busted nose and they think maybe a couple of broken ribs, too."
Jim's heart sank into his stomach. "Where's my daughter?"
The deputy sighed. "Nobody knows where she is, your honor."
Jim fell silent in thought. He didn't know if he should have been angry or concerned, though he was almost completely sure that he knew exactly where she was. Every single bit of this story reeked of Zac Hanson somehow. It made way too much sense. Unhappy with Bessie's date, he comes to the dance, beats up the date, and takes his girl. And the judge was willing to bet that Bessie went right along with him.
"Your honor," the deputy's voice came through again, interrupting Jim's thoughts. "Do you want to, uh, you know, file a missing persons--?"
"No," Jim answered abruptly.
"But, Judge--"
"I said it wasn't necessary," he snapped. "Thank you for phoning me. Goodnight."
Hanging the receiver back on the hook, he turned around and was startled to find his wife standing behind him. "Jim?" She asked, her face filled with fear. "What's the matter? Where's Bessie?"
Looking at his wife's fearful eyes made the judge even angrier at the situation. "There was an incident at the dance--"
"Jim--"
"She's with that gypsy."
The fear left Catherine's eyes, a notion that made Jim slightly disdainful, and now she appeared more confused than anything. "What? But--but how do you know that?"
"Because I know. And you know it, too."
She furrowed her brow in confusion and shook her head. "She left the house with Billy..."
"Oh, come now, Cathy, it's really not that hard to figure out. They found Billy beaten up outside the dance and Bessie was nowhere in sight. Think about it."
"You think--? You think Zac did it?"
"I think it's pretty obvious."
"No," Catherine said, shaking her head. "No. I don't care what you think of him or whether you think he's good for our daughter or not, but he's a nice boy and he wouldn't do anything to hurt a hair on our daughter's head. Jim, that's not right. We have to find our daughter."
"Trust me, Cathy, if my gut told me she was in danger, I'd be up and down the streets with my shotgun right now."
"Oh," Catherine suddenly snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "So you don't like the idea of our daughter spending time with Zac, but the idea that she might be with him somewhere right now isn't sending you running out the door? Honestly, Jim, I just don't know what to do with you anymore."
"I never said the guy was dangerous, Catherine, I just said he can't give her a future!"
"Then let her be happy right now!"
Jim let out a breath of exasperation and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "If you need me, I'll be on the front porch, waiting for our daughter to come home."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then I'll be at that gypsy camp first thing in the morning."
Making his way across the room and to the door, he stopped short at the storm door when he saw the two silhouettes standing at the road under the moonlight. They held hands as they spoke to each other and then he watched his daughter throw her arms tightly around his neck. They lingered for a moment before he gently kissed his daughter, and then he stood at the top of the road and watched Bessie bound toward the front porch--and face-to-face with the judge.
Bessie's eyes widened and a gasp caught in her throat as she stopped in her tracks on the porch. Wordlessly, Jim opened the door and stood back to let her in. Meekly, Bessie walked past him and straight into her mother's arms.
Letting out a breath in an attempt to calm himself before he spoke, he looked at Bessie and said to her, "I just got a phone call. Billy Connors has a busted nose and two broken ribs and you came home with another man. Care to explain how you've been just randomly running amuck all over Tulsa tonight?"
"I haven't been running amuck all over anywhere," Bessie objected quietly. Then she lifted her chin in defiant confidence. "Zac brought me home."
"Zac," Jim repeated quietly. "So we're still on that."
Bessie narrowed her eyes at her father. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I think it would be best if you stopped seeing him. He's trouble."
Devastation washed over his daughter's face and her jaw dropped. "He is not trouble--!"
"He is trouble and no daughter of mine will be associated with gypsies and hooligans!"
"He's not a gypsy, Daddy, he makes an honest living!"
"You think pick-pocketing and conning people out of their hard-earned money is honest?"
"It's not his fault if they're willing to spend it!"
Jim paused and let out a sigh as he looked at his daughter. He didn't want her to know she'd stumped him with the point she made. The fact of the matter was, he knew the boy wasn't a bad guy and he couldn't very well use it in an argument. To make his case weaker, his daughter spoke again. "Billy was mean to me, Daddy. I told you I didn't want to go out with him and you made me anyway, and he was mean to me!"
"Mean?" Jim argued. "That's the story you're going to tell? You're going to pretend like you and Zac didn't plan this whole thing, regardless of who I sent you out with?"
"We didn't plan to meet there, he just showed up! And it's a good thing, too, because I was having a positively horrible time. Billy didn't pay a bit of attention to me all night long because he was more interested in goofing off with his friends. So when Zac showed up, I went out to dance with him. And then Billy called me a dumb broad and Zac gave him what he deserved. And that's what happened. We ran so that the rest of Billy's friends wouldn't gang up on him. I like Zac, Daddy. He asked me to go steady with him and I said yes! Zac is my beau and there's nothing that you, or anyone else, can do about it!"
With that, Bessie tore past her father and stormed up the staircase, the slamming of her bedroom door as the grand finale.
Jim was livid. He face burned with rage and his fist balled up tight before he pounded it against the railing of the staircase and snapped at his wife, "What is wrong with our daughter?"
"There is nothing wrong with her," Catherine sneered. "But I warned you before and I'll say it again. If you don't fix your relationship with her, we'll lose her forever. She will run right out of this house and straight into his arms and we'll never see her again. She will grow up to resent you and we will never meet our grandchildren. Maybe you need to focus more on her future with you rather than her future with him."
As if on cue, Bessie came flying back down the stairs, her arms filled with linens and pillows. Catherine looked on in horror as Jim's eyes widened. "Beatrice, what is the meaning of this?"
"I am not spending the night in this house," she snapped through her tears. "I'm going to find Scout outside and I'm taking him camping."
"You will do no such thing--!"
"I AM AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME!" Bessie's voice carried shrill through the house and she made a spectacle of slamming the door.
Jim was speechless and he knew his daughter was right. He couldn't stop her. He was losing all control of his household and he felt like his world was crumbling down around him. He was losing his daughter and his wife was against him.
His feelings now more hurt than anything, he turned around and faced his wife, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's starting now," her voice cracked. "I understand how you feel about him. I get it. But our daughter doesn't see life the same way we do. She sees people, she doesn't see class or dollar signs. She lives her life the way she feels it. And right now she wants to spend it with him. I, personally, can't see anything wrong with it. You can't walk around here pretending she's going to marry the first man she falls in love with--"
"Catherine--"
"I understand that you're her father and it's hard to let her go. But she is an adult now. And she's going to be leaving the house for school soon and then what are we going to do without her? Don't let her leave here resenting you--or the both of us. You have to let her make her own decisions. You have to trust her. It's part of raising children."
"Cathy, I just--I just want what's best for her. I want you and--and I want her to understand that. But can't you see she's changing? He's changing her, she's becoming bitter and--"
"You're changing her, Jim. Your differences with her are finally coming to light and neither of you have learned how to deal with them yet. She's getting her first taste of real freedom, she has her first crush--these are milestones she should have come to a long time ago. But she's reaching them now and now she's not so easy to control because she is an adult. You can't control her anymore, Jim. You can only accept her and love her. It's why she and I are so close."
"But now she's--now she's out there alone, outside--"
"She's probably in the barn. This wouldn't be the first time she's ever spent the night in the barn. She has the dog with her, she'll come back inside in the morning in time for breakfast."
"How can you be so calm about this?"
Catherine smiled gently. "Because I know Bessie. And I know the only danger she's in out there tonight is the possibility of being eaten by a coyote--and Scout will get to it first. Don't worry so much. Just come to bed and we'll try to sort this out tomorrow. Okay?"
Reluctantly, Jim helped his wife turn off the lights and followed her upstairs. He was almost certain of what was going to happen the moment they closed the bedroom door. But it didn't help the uneasy knot that sat deep in the pit of his stomach.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Bessie's angry tears had dried by the time she set off into the woods, balancing the linens on her bicycle's handlebars. Whistling and calling for Scout had been done half-heartedly as she didn't expect him to hear her from three miles away at the gypsy camp. However, she was pleasantly surprised when he came tearing out of the woods at full speed and jumped on her, his tail wagging a mile a minute. The kisses he left on her face made her giggle and it made her feel a little better and she set off into the woods with her adopted dog trailing happily behind her.
As she came to the clearing where she would find their tree, she hopped off of her bicycle, adjusted the linens that sat on the handlebars, and began to walk her bicycle through. Once she stepped out into the grass, she stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. There, under the moonlight, sitting against the tree as the trunk's roots enveloped him, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. And he grew more and more breathtaking every time she laid eyes on him.
"Zac?" She asked, surprised.
She had startled him. He jumped up and dusted off the back of his pants. "Bessie?" He replied, making his way toward her. "What are you doing here?"
As he closed the gap between them, she hooked her arm tightly around his shoulder and ran her other hand through the back of his hair as she kissed him with need and desperation. She couldn't stop kissing him and she didn't want to. For the rest of her life, all she ever wanted to do was hold him and kiss him and never let him go.
"Bessie," he whispered again as he broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. "What are you doing here?"
"I ran away," she whispered back. "Well. Maybe not exactly. I told them I was camping tonight."
"You walked out on your parents?"
"Yeah." Then she pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Zac, nobody's going to keep me away from you. And--and if you want me to leave you alone tonight, I'll go sleep in the barn, I've done it before, I just--I didn't know you were going to be here. And I came here to feel close to you."
"Oh, Bessie," he whispered, taking her face gently in his hands. "My sweet Bessie. I don't ever want you to leave me alone."
"Stay with me tonight. I mean, I've--well, I've never shared a bed with a boy--uh, a--a man before, but--"
"You can trust me," he smiled.
She returned his smile shyly, in no hurry to leave his embrace. "What are you doing here?"
"I, um, I stopped to spend a few minutes alone before I went home. It's Saturday night, so no doubt there's some kind of bonfire-type party going on at the camp tonight."
Bessie's smile turned into a grin. "That sounds like it might be fun."
"They can be. But tonight I needed the quiet."
"I'm sorry I interrupted you," she whispered.
"No. I wasn't doing anything more than what I always do lately--think of you and wish on stars. And now here you are. And I am so happy to see you. I didn't want this night to end."
Finally she did break away from him so that she could retrieve her bicycle and the linens she'd brought along to form her bed. She was extremely nervous, but comforted at the same time, that Zac would be staying the night with her. This would be the first time she'd ever shared any kind of bed with a man. And while he said she could trust him, and she did, she was still nervous, not knowing what to expect or if he expected anything, either.
Propping her bicycle up against the tree, Zac then helped her spread out the blankets she'd brought. Two on the bottom and one to cover up with and she felt embarrassed that she'd only brought one pillow, but Zac didn't seem to mind. As she would come to discover later, having only one pillow would work out just fine anyway.
Bessie kicked off her shoes and tucked her dress and her knees underneath her as she sat on the blanket under the moonlight. "I didn't even change into my night clothes," she said shyly. "I guess it's a good thing, though, because I would be embarrassed for you to see me in them."
Zac smiled as he made himself comfortable beside her. "Kinda like you saw me in mine unexpectedly the other morning?"
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have intruded--"
"I mean, I didn't mind. I'm pretty sure you wear more to bed than I do anyway."
Bessie's cheeks grew hot and she ducked her head, ashamed of the visual that formed in her head from the memory of him standing in his trailer doorway without a shirt on. As if reading her mind, he leaned over and nudged her shoulder and grinned. "Don't worry. I'll keep my clothes on tonight."
She found herself giggling, unable to help herself, and relieved that she didn't have to worry about any possible expectations. It was apparent that Zac didn't have any and she was glad for it.
Adjusting the pillows behind him, Zac leaned his back against the trunk of the tree and pulled Bessie between his legs and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She melted in an instant, the feeling of being in his arms instantly taking away anything negative that weighed heavy on her shoulders. His arms were her comfort, his warmth was her savior, and his embrace made it impossible for anything to hurt her.
As she rested the back of her head comfortably against him, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Bessie spoke up and said, "Zac? Tell me about your mother."
Zac was silent for a moment before she heard him clear his throat lightly. "Uh, my mother?"
"Yes. You haven't told me much of anything about your parents, but the little bit you have said, it seems like she was a lovely woman."
She felt his arms tighten around her and his lips pressed into the material of the dress on her shoulder as he delayed his response. Finally he replied, "My mother was beautiful. Inside and out. She was everything to me and I worshipped the ground she walked on. She had this--this long, blonde hair that cascaded down her back like--like a golden waterfall. I loved her hair. When I was a small boy she used to let me brush it and I would just sit and brush it for what felt like hours. Isaac made fun of me for it, but I didn't care. I cherished every moment I ever spent with her."
"If--if the tables were turned and it was...you know, if it was me in your position and you in mine--would your mother dislike you being with me?"
"No. No, she wasn't like that. My mother was accepting of everyone and all she wanted was for me and my brothers to be happy. She taught us a lot, she taught us about life and love...and acceptance. My mother was my inspiration. She still is."
"She must be the reason why you're such a good person."
"I try to be a good person. If she was alive right now, I'd want her to be proud of me."
"I'm sure she's proud of you even now. She's smiling down right now, proud of the man you grew up to be. She was a very lucky woman to have been your mother."
"Except I haven't done anything worth being proud of," he said quietly. "I haven't made anything of myself. I have nothing going for me. I failed her, Bessie. I failed her and I can't take it back."
"Oh, Zac," she whispered. "I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself. I wish you could see what I see--"
"I couldn't save her," he continued. "Or my father. I mean, I could have, but I didn't. If--if Ike and Tay and I hadn't been traveling the country, following what would prove to be...stupid, empty dreams and just stayed home, then that damn sick banker wouldn't have ever had to come to the house and they'd have never gotten sick and--and I loved having our act, but I would gladly have lived the rest of my life with a shovel and a pick in my hand if that meant saving my parents' lives. I failed them, Bessie. I feel like--I feel like I killed them." She felt his breath stagger against her all of a sudden and his voice began to crack. "I did it. I--I left them and I failed them and I killed them. And I can't take any of it back."
And with that, she felt his body shake with the heart-wrenching sobs that escaped his throat and the hurt she felt for him was overwhelming. The tears sprang to her eyes as she climbed to her knees and turned around to face him, taking him in her arms and letting him cling to her as if his life depended on her. She stroked his long hair as he sobbed into her shoulder and she allowed him to cry. It was obvious that he needed to let it out and she was honored that he felt comfortable enough to express himself in front of her.
She didn't attempt to quiet him, but she did attempt to soothe him. She remembered what her mother had said to her, about how he and his brothers had nobody to reassure them at the time of their parents' death and her heart had broken for them then, just as it did now. "It's okay," she whispered to him softly as she stroked his hair and felt the death grip his arms had around her body. "Everything is okay."
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
She didn't respond. She suspected his apology hadn't exactly been directed at her, so she let him continue to pour himself out. Instead, she wrapped her arms tighter around him and let her fingers trail gently through his hair.
After a minute or two, his sobs began to subside and he loosened his grip on her. He lifted his head and his tear-streaked face glistened in the moonlight. "That feels good," he whispered, his voice weak and vulnerable. It was like looking back in time, at Zac as a small boy, and her heart went out to him.
"What does?" She asked gently.
"What you were just doing with my hair."
She looked at him for a moment longer and then she wiped the tears from his face for him. Then she backed up off of him and she whispered gently, "Come here."
Sitting back on the blanket, she tucked her dress around her legs and sat Indian-style as she pulled Zac close to her. Following her lead, he lay down on his back and she positioned his head in her lap, pulling his hair out from underneath his neck and splaying it across her lap. "Sometimes when I'm upset, my mama does this with me. She plays with my hair until I calm down." She began to brush her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes against the night sky. "Sometimes she braids it or twists it, but mostly she just runs her fingers through it. It works every time."
He took in a breath through his nose and he let out a content sigh. "Bessie," he whispered. "I wish I knew how to tell you how you make me feel. I've just--nobody's ever made me feel the way you do. I've never...felt like I mattered before...well, before you came along."
"You always mattered, Zac. You mattered before me, you matter now. You're everything to me. Always know that."
"That's good enough for me."
Bessie smiled as she continued to play with his hair. She brushed and she braided and she twisted and she listened to Zac give her an astronomy lesson as he stared up at the stars from her lap. He drew out constellations for her and taught her the history of their names. He taught her how the stars were a source of navigation and then he pointed out the North Star. "That one is called Polaris, even though we know it as the North Star."
"The Wise Men followed that star to Jesus's manger when he was born," Bessie said, proud of herself that she could contribute to his impromptu lesson.
"That, they did," he smiled. "It's the biggest and brightest star in the sky. It belongs to you."
Bessie furrowed her brow in confusion and looked up at the sky. "What?"
"It's my star for you. When I wish for you, I wish on that one. If I could take a star from the sky and give it to you, it would be that one. Because it's the most beautiful. Just like you."
"Oh, Zac," she whispered, her heart melting.
He lifted his head and he turned to look up at her. "Are you ready to sleep now? Because I need to hold you."
Bessie nodded, taken aback by his words as she always was. Following his lead, they moved to the top of the makeshift bed and he tucked them under the blanket she'd brought along. The ground beneath them was hard, despite doubling up on the material, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the way Zac held her close against him and softly kissed her lips. He smiled at her, their noses nearly touching, and she felt his fingers mindlessly scratching her back. "I think I'm spoiled," he said quietly. "I don't think I could ever sleep alone after tonight."
"I don't think I want to," she replied.
"What's happening to us, Bess? I've never fallen for anyone so fast in my life."
"I don't know. I've never fallen for anyone before, ever. I--I don't know anything about anything."
"Just know that I'm the luckiest man in the world. And you made it so."
"Zac? Is this--is this what love feels like?"
He stared at her for a moment and she wished she'd never asked such a forward question. She was immediately mortified. "I've never been in love before," he whispered.
"Neither have I."
Running the backs of his fingers along her cheek, he trailed his hand underneath her hair and entangled his fingers in it as he took her mouth again. Rolling over onto his back, she lay her chest over his as he held her face in his hands and continued to kiss her deeply, with purpose. That night she kissed him until they fell asleep, her first night sleeping in the open, under the stars, as magical as anything she'd ever experienced.