CHAPTER 3
Later that evening, Bertram walked Jeanine home. He was pushing her bicycle for her, and there were eggs, milk and some extra biscuits in the basket.
"I'm real glad that you're going to let me paint your house, Jeanine. I'll do a real good job," Bertram said, nodding and smiling at her.
"I know you will, Bertram," she answered. "But I do wish you'd let me pay you."
"Oh, no. Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "I told you, I want to do something special for your birthday, and this is it."
She linked her arm in his and laid her head on his shoulder as they strolled slowly down the road. "Well, that's just the sweetest thing you could do," she said.
Bertram had a hard time not leaning down and kissing the top of her head. He did inhale deeply, though. "You used that lavender sachet again, didn't you? The one you got from the mail-order catalog?" he asked. "You sure do smell good."
Jeanine chuckled. "Yes, I did. I'm pleased that you noticed."
"Oh, I always notice you, Jeanine," he replied shyly. He stopped walking and turned toward her. "Jeanine, can I tell you something?"
"Of course, Bertram. We're friends . . . you can say anything to me," she answered, intrigued by what he might come out with.
"Today was the best day I ever had. Just - just sittin' in the barn with you and the dogs, and then pickin' vegetables in the garden . . . and then showing you the inventions in my workshop. I sure did like today."
"I had a lovely day, too, Bertram," Jeanine answered. It seemed like he had more he wanted to say, but then he saw that they were already in front of Jeanine's house. They walked quietly up the front walkway. Jeanine took her things out of the basket while Bertram went up and opened the door for her.
As she started to go in, Bertram said, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Jeanine - right after lunch. I think I can finish by Saturday."
Jeanine looked up at him in the darkness. The sun had gone down and the moon was peeking over the treetops. She couldn't explain why her heart was racing. "Okay, Bertram. That sounds wonderful. Thank you again."
Bertram backed up a couple of steps. He was dangerously close to going off the edge of the steps. His foot stepped back a bit and he could feel that there was nothing there. Grabbing the railing to keep from falling, he looked back. "Ooh, that was close," he said, chuckling. "I'll be more careful when I'm up on the ladder, I promise."
"Good night, Bertram. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her head leaning against the door.
Bertram sighed. "Good night, Jeanine." Then he smiled and turned and tripped down the steps. "I'm okay. I'm . . . uh, okay." Getting up, he brushed himself off and strolled nonchalantly up the walkway with his hands in his pockets. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that she was still in the doorway watching him go.
He raised his hand to wave once more and walked into the gate. "Umph," he uttered.
Jeanine's laughter carried across the yard. "Good night, Bertram," she called out.
Wednesday morning dawned, promising to be as hot, if not hotter, than Tuesday had been. After tending to Shelley and her pup, Bertram was finally able to get the wood burner running again. He had been up for hours in anticipation of spending the whole day at Jeanine's, so he figured he might as well be productive and fix it. After replacing a couple of parts and making a few adjustments, he had it going.
"Bertram," Ma called. "I have some muffins and coffee ready. Come in and eat before you go."
"Thanks, Ma," he answered. "I'll be right there."
After eating with his parents, Bertram headed to town. He was feeling almost giddy. Smiling brightly, sitting atop the wood burner, he pulled down his goggles and slipped it into gear. The engine roared, and he took off down the street.
As Bertram pulled into town, he parked in front of the general store. Going in, he greeted Mrs. Campbell. "Good Morning, Mrs. Campbell. I'm here to get some supplies. I'm going to be painting Jeanine's house for her this week. I don't need too much, though . . . just maybe two more buckets of white and a new brush."
"Well, that's wonderful, Bertram," she answered. "I'll go out back and get Freddy to bring the paint out to you."
"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied with a grin.
While he waited, he was browsing around the store. He saw some decorative molding sitting on a back shelf. They were rather dusty, but looked like they could be cleaned up nicely and painted.
"Hey, Mrs. Campbell," he called out. "Could I get this molding? This would look real nice around her porch."
"Oh, those old things? Why they've been there for the longest time. I'd love to get rid of them," she said. "I'll give them to you at a sale price."
"Thanks," he said, smiling. "She's gonna love it. But don't tell her, okay. I want to surprise her."
Mrs. Campbell smiled at Bertram. It was no secret in town that he had a crush on the girl. A loud engine rumbled by outside. Mrs. Campbell frowned, recognizing it as Lyle Chatterton's motorcar.
Bertram heard the car, too. He sauntered over to the window and looked out, standing there with his hands in his pockets. He watched as Lyle parked in front of the bank and went inside.
By this time, Freddy had come out with the paint. Bertram paid for his purchases and brought everything out and loaded it onto his wood burner. Then he headed over to the new sheet metal shop that had opened next to the hardware store.
When he came out a half hour later, his arms piled high with supplies, he bumped into someone as he headed towards the wood burner.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, lowering the pile in his arms to better see where he was going. It was Lyle Chatterton standing in front of him.
"Webb, what are you up to?" he asked, with a sneer on his face and his hands on his hips.
"I'm just buying stuff for a new invention that I'm working on," Bertram said with a shrug and a frown.
"No. I mean Jeanine. What are you up to with Jeanine?" He sounded quite angry. "Freddy said you bought a bunch of paint and that you were going to paint her house."
"Yeah, that's right," Bertram answered. "I wanted to do something special for her birthday."
"Well, she's my girl, and I don't like the idea of it. Just bring that stuff back. I'm going to hire someone to do it properly," Lyle said with authority.
Bertram put his supplies onto the back of the wood burner and looked back at Lyle. He was scowling. "It's Jeanine's house, not yours. I'll do a fine job for her." He stepped back up onto the boardwalk. "And besides, as far as her being your girl . . ."
Both men were glaring at each other, and they had their fists clenched. Lyle started to raise his in boxing fashion. It was drawing attention.
"Bertram, Lyle, you two just get where you're going." It was the constable. He had just walked out of his office and witnessed the angry exchange. He put his hand out and separated the two men. "Now it's hot and sticky, and people in this town are short-tempered. I don't want any trouble out of you two."
"Sure thing, Constable," Bertram said, backing away. He wiped the sweat off his brow and glared at Lyle again. "I'm headin' to Jeanine's, and you ain't got no call to say different."
Lyle stood on the boardwalk and watched Bertram climb up onto the wood burner and take off down the street. He was conflicted. He wanted to take off after him and continue this discussion at Jeanine's, but his father was expecting him at the office in the Sawmill.
With a foot-stomp and a growl, he turned on his heel and headed off to meet his father.
Peeking out from the doorway of the Primrose Junction Hotel, was Anita Banks. She had also watched the argument and couldn't wait to get over to Jeanine's house and tell her about it. Anita had been Jeanine's best friend for the past few years, ever since she moved to Primrose Junction, and she had no love for Lyle Chatterton. She hurried over to the livery stable, got her buggy hitched and headed out of town as quickly as she could get her old nag to go.
