by Pam Hillman
“Yes, sir.”
The boss reined his horse around and rode away. The swish, swish, swish of the horse’s hooves through the snow faded, and the girl’s harsh breathing was all that remained.
Butch plucked the child from the girl’s arms and held her under one arm like a sack of potatoes. Silent tears ran down the older girl’s cheeks. “Please, mister. Don’t take my sister. She won’t be any trouble—I promise.”
“Shut up, kid. I got my orders, see?”
Luke’s heart ached for her, but there was nothing he could do.
Grady herded the three children through the door into the factory, dragging the girl who’d given up her sister. Luke caught a final glimpse of her face, white as death. He swallowed the helplessness that rose in his throat. He knew the feeling of being separated from his only kin, of not knowing if Mark was dead or alive.
Grady left the door open.
A surge of hope coursed through Luke. He glanced toward Butch, but the hulking man’s attention stayed focused on the toddler he carried. He lumbered off, a scowl on his face.
Luke crouched in the bushes next to the building, torn between slipping inside the factory and following Butch. This might be his only chance to get inside. But what about the little girl? Would Butch kill her?
Tearing himself away from the building, he followed Butch, staying far enough behind not to get caught but close enough not to lose him.
For a big man, Butch moved awful fast. He looked back, and Luke ducked behind a broken-down wagon covered in snow. When he looked again, Butch and the child were nowhere to be seen.
Where had they gone? Taking a chance, Luke ran toward the street, heart pounding. He’d missed his chance at getting to Mark, and now he’d lost Butch and the little girl. He couldn’t do anything right.
He caught a glimpse of movement two blocks over. Butch? He darted down a parallel alley, then another, before he saw him again.
Empty-handed.
Butch hurried off into the night.
Luke stood still, gulping in air.
Horror crawled across his skin and down his throat, spread through his chest, and settled like a raging inferno in his belly. He wanted to walk away, run. Go to the small, safe place he and the others had carved out of a burned-out shack and pretend this had never happened. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her, even if Butch had killed her.
He moved forward, unable to feel his legs. He’d gone numb.
He found the small form tucked under a stack of crates in the alley. With shaking fingers, he reached out and touched her, only to find her alive and breathing. He took off his thin coat and wrapped her in it, hoping to bring warmth to the tiny child left to die in the freezing cold.
Tears he’d held back ever since he and his brother had found themselves alone on the streets of Chicago gathered in his eyes.
Clutching the small child to his chest, he wept.
Chapter Nine
What now?
Livy clutched the slip of paper in her gloved hand and hurried across town. Miss MacKinnion’s scrawled note requested a meeting with her as soon as school let out. She’d left Seth and Georgie at the orphanage, one with a split lip, the other sporting a black eye.
Seth had looked scared to death when he’d handed her the note. But try as she might, she couldn’t get a word out of either of them. And when tears welled up in Georgie’s eyes and spilled over, she’d simply hugged him. Livy quickened her steps, anxious to find out what the boys had done but afraid at the same time.
She stepped inside the church that doubled as a schoolhouse and paused to peel off her gloves. Miss MacKinnion stood at her desk, flanked by Mrs. Johansen and another woman.
Livy started to back out. “I’m sorry, Miss MacKinnion. I’ll come back later.”
“No, that’s all right, Miss O’Brien.” Miss MacKinnion stepped toward her, expression solemn. “You’ve met my sister, Martha Johansen, and Mrs. Benson, haven’t you? They’re here to talk about what happened today as well.”
“Mrs. Johansen. Mrs. Benson.” Livy hadn’t talked much with Mrs. Benson, but she recognized the woman from church. She focused on Miss MacKinnion. “May I ask what this is all about?”
“Of course.” Miss MacKinnion looked down her nose, her hawkish expression and somber manner giving her the appearance of a vulture.
Mrs. Johansen moved forward, her tall, sparse form a slightly older version of her sister’s. “I’ll tell you what happened. Those two little hoodlums attacked my Billy today. They aren’t fit to associate with decent children.”
Livy went on the defensive, hackles rising. “Georgie and Seth are not hoodlums, ma’am, and I’m sure they didn’t attack anyone.”
The color in Mrs. Benson’s plump cheeks rose. “Now, Martha, don’t you think attacked is too harsh a word to use?”
Mrs. Johansen shot her friend a sharp glance. “No, I don’t. That’s exactly what happened.”
Hogwash.
Five or six years older than Seth, Billy could pound the smaller boy into the ground if he wanted to. He’d make two of Seth any day. Mrs. Johansen had an ax to grind, but for the life of her, Livy couldn’t figure out what the woman was after. “I can’t imagine a five-year-old and an eight-year-old getting the best of Billy.”
“That’s neither here nor there, Miss O’Brien. The fact remains that they bloodied his nose and that littlest one, what’s his name? George? He bit Billy!”
Georgie wouldn’t have latched his teeth onto the older boy without a good reason. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johansen, I’ll see what I can do to keep Georgie from biting Billy in the future.”
Mrs. Johansen crossed her arms at her waist. “Well, it shouldn’t be too hard seeing as he won’t be attending school in the foreseeable future.”
Livy stiffened, her gaze riveted on Miss MacKinnion. “I beg your pardon?”
Miss MacKinnion plucked a piece of paper from her desk and held it out. “Under the circumstances, Miss O’Brien, I’ve taken the liberty of suspending both Georgie and Seth from school for the rest of the term.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will.” The teacher’s tone brooked no argument.
Livy glared at the teacher, who gave her a tight smile that smacked of triumph. Mrs. Johansen gloated while Mrs. Benson looked on, eyes as big as a lump of coal.
Miss MacKinnion edged closer. “We don’t want you and your kind here, Miss O’Brien.”
Livy’s gut twisted. So that’s what this was all about. They felt threatened by the orphanage, as if those defenseless children could do them any harm. Livy tried to think what would be best for the children, for Mrs. Brooks. Bewildered, she stood there. She’d never faced an adversary like this. If the woman hit or threatened her, she could show her a thing or two that would make Billy’s bloody nose seem like a scratch. But this verbal assault out of nowhere took her completely off guard.
“Those orphans aren’t fit to associate with our children. And that Mary, batting her eyes at the boys. Why, it’s a crying shame the way she carries on!” Miss MacKinnion exchanged a glance with her sister, then slid her gaze back to rake over Livy. “I do wonder where she gets it from.”
Livy clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and stepped forward, crowding the teacher. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but Mary’s one of the sweetest, most pure girls I know, and I won’t have you casting slurs on her.”
She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, contrasting the pounding of her heart. “And if I hear one word about her character from anyone else in this town, I’ll know exactly where it started.”
Miss MacKinnion’s eyes widened before she regained her haughty composure. “Are you threatening me, Miss O’Brien?”
Livy plucked the suspension slip from the teacher’s fingers. “Only so far as you’ve threatened me, Miss MacKinnion.”
* * *
Livy stomped into the kitchen, resisting the urge to slam the door behind her.
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Mrs. Brooks and Mary stood in the center of the room, the older woman’s arms wrapped around the girl. As soon as Mary saw Livy, fresh tears tracked the girl’s cheeks. “It’s all my fault, Livy. I’m sorry.”
Livy’s heart sank. Surely Miss MacKinnion hadn’t been right about Mary. Not dear, sweet Mary. Livy smoothed the girl’s hair back from her forehead. “Mary, I want you to tell me what happened.”
“Billy asked me to walk with him, but I told him no, and he got mad.” Mary sniffed, a tinge of red creeping into her cheeks. “He called me some names, and Seth and Georgie heard him.” Her tear-filled eyes met Livy’s. “I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen. Before I knew it, Billy, Seth, and Georgie were fighting. Billy’s a big old bully!”
So Livy had been right to assume there was more to the story. Billy didn’t look like the type to let two little kids get the best of him. “Shh, it’s all right, Mary. You didn’t do anything wrong. And the boys were just trying to defend your honor. That was mighty sweet of them, don’t you think?”
Mary sniffed one last time and smiled. “For a little squirt, Georgie fights like a wildcat.”
“I imagine he’s been forced to. Now, go get cleaned up. Supper’ll be ready in no time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Brooks turned to stir the brown gravy on the stove. “Well, I’m glad that’s all cleared up. The poor girl has been beside herself with worry.”
Livy fingered the note in her pocket from Miss MacKinnion. “I’m afraid it’s not that easily cleared up.”
* * *
Jake ducked into the back of the jail the moment he saw Lavinia’s sparse frame sweeping toward the door, a basket under one arm. “Tell her I’m not here.”
“Tell her yourself.” Sheriff Carter leaned back in his chair, a grin on his face.
“Good morning, Sheriff. Is Jake here?”
“He sure is.” Sheriff Carter laughed, and Jake wanted to strangle the man. “Jake, get out here. Miss Lavinia’s here to see you.”
With no way out of the situation, Jake sauntered into the office, feeling foolish for trying to avoid her in the first place. “Morning, Lavinia.”
Lavinia pulled a cake out of her basket. “Jake, I brought you a brown sugar cake since you missed Sunday dinner.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, but we appreciate it, don’t we, Sheriff Carter?” Lavinia was a passable cook, but he didn’t want to encourage her. Including the sheriff just might get him off the hook.
“We sure do, Miss Lavinia.” Sheriff Carter bent down and sniffed the cake. “Hmm-mmm. That sure does smell good. Thank you kindly, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gaze swung between the two of them, then settled on Jake like a hawk eyeing its prey. “I’d better run. I’ll drop by later and pick up the plate.”
She left, closing the door with a firm click.
“That woman’s sweet on you.”
Jake cringed and tossed an out-of-date wanted poster into the potbellied stove.
“That’s why she turned those orphans out of school. And the fact that Billy’s her nephew and her sister ain’t got the sense God gave a goat is beside the point.”
If Sheriff Carter didn’t shut his trap, he’d have the whole town convinced Lavinia MacKinnion wanted to marry Jake. Jake shuddered. He’d gone to school with her, and no way on God’s green earth would he be saddled with that woman. Half the time she looked like a mule eating persimmons. She wasn’t plain-out unattractive, but the way she acted made her seem that way.
“I’m telling you, she wants to get her hooks into you like nobody’s business. She’s got her eye on your farm, especially since Johansen’s land butts up against yours. That would make her and Martha neighbors, and nothing would suit her better.”
Jake groaned. Bad enough he knew Lavinia’s intentions, but for Sheriff Carter to put into words what Jake had only suspected turned his stomach, souring the coffee he’d been choking down all morning.
“What I can’t figure out is why she became a schoolteacher.” Sheriff Carter grabbed a mop and a bucket and headed to the jail cells. “She don’t even like young’uns, near’s I can tell.”
Jake wadded another poster and tossed it into the stove. “I’m sure she enjoys teaching a lot better than you realize, Sheriff. She’s been at it three years now.”
“Well, it’s still a mystery to me.”
The door opened, and a blast of cold air swept into the room. Mrs. Brooks, bundled head to foot in scarves and a woolen cloak, hurried in. Snow flurries followed in her wake.
“Morning, ma’am.”
“Good morning, Deputy.”
“Call me Jake.” He pulled up a chair for her. “Would you like a seat?”
“Thank you.”
Sheriff Carter bumbled out of the back, a once-white apron tied around his waist. His eyes widened. “Mrs. Brooks. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I just arrived.”
The sheriff turned red as a beet, then made an about-face, retreating. Jake frowned in the man’s direction, hoping he didn’t have another weak spell coming on. He glanced at Mrs. Brooks. “Uh, ma’am, would you like some coffee?”
“No thank you. I’m here to see Sheriff Carter. I’ll wait.” She sat ramrod straight, her gloves clasped in her ample lap, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Sheriff Carter returned, minus the apron and looking more composed than moments before. “Mrs. Brooks. What can I do for you?”
She held up a slip of paper. “Miss MacKinnion has suspended Georgie and Seth for fighting and suspended the rest of the children ‘by association.’ My boys didn’t do anything but defend Mary’s good name, and I demand they all be allowed back in school.”
Sheriff Carter rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Brooks. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
“You are on the school board, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jake lifted his coffee cup to hide the grin spreading across his face. The woman had the sheriff dancing faster than a drunk outlaw with a six-shooter full of bullets.
“Then I suggest the school board have a meeting and resolve this immediately, or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”
“Drastic measures, ma’am?”
“If the board doesn’t reinstate the children’s rights to attend school, I’ll bring them here to the jail for instruction every day. If they’re unfit for public school, maybe tutelage at the hand of the law will teach them some manners.”
The color drained from Sheriff Carter’s face. “Ma’am, you can’t do that.”
“I can and I will.” Mrs. Brooks stood and looked him right in the eye. “I’ll expect a verdict from the school board by the end of the week.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brooks, but that’s impossible. Two of the five board members live out of town, and with the snow and all, there’s no way we can set up a meeting that quickly. As soon as the snow melts . . .”
“Very well, then. I’m willing to wait a few more days under the circumstances.” She nodded at Jake. “Good day, gentlemen.”
Mrs. Brooks swept out of the office as fast as her girth would allow.
Sheriff Carter sank into the chair behind his desk, his gaze glued to the door.
Jake picked up his whittling knife. “Do you think she means it?”
“Oh, she means it all right.”
Chapter Ten
“Of course I didn’t mean it.”
Livy breathed a sigh. She’d worried over nothing.
Mrs. Brooks bustled about the kitchen, her movements quick and efficient. Livy finished cutting the potatoes, scooped them up, and dumped them in the soup pot. Next she gathered the fixings for two pans of corn bread. The aroma of vegetable soup filled the kitchen, making her mouth water.
“Unless he doesn’t get the children admitted back in school.”
Livy gasped. The older woman’s eyes twinkled, an
d she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, the threat worked. Let’s hope the board can get something done. That woman doesn’t have the right to turn our children out of school. Her nephew should be punished if anyone should.”
“You and I know that, but since we’re new in town, I imagine folks won’t believe us over Mrs. Johansen.” She reached for the empty coal bucket. “Be right back.”
Mrs. Brooks eyed the pail. “The coal bin was almost empty last night. We’ll have to see Mr. McIver about buying some on credit.”
Livy’s gaze met the older woman’s. “Unless our guardian angel fills it up again.”
“I wish I knew who’s been providing us with coal. I’ve been so grateful, but I don’t like not being able to thank someone for their kindness.”
“Maybe they have a good reason for not wanting us to know.”
“Maybe so.”
Livy trudged outside to the small porch and grabbed the shovel. When she opened the lid, a full load of coal lay nestled inside. Thank You, Lord, and bless the generous person who sees to our needs.
Shivering in the bitter cold, Livy hurried to fill the container. Before she could head back inside, a sound came from around the corner of the house.
Then whispers. And giggles.
Livy frowned. Seth and Georgie were up to something. Again. She set the bucket down and hurried to the edge of the porch. Leaning over the railing, she caught a glimpse of the two boys huddled against the side of the house. “Seth, what are you doing?”
Seth’s wide-eyed stare met hers. Georgie’s eyes grew round. Seth cradled something inside his coat. Livy crossed her arms. “Seth? What have you got there?”
“Please, Miss Livy, can we keep her? Please? She’s cold and hungry.”
“Please,” Georgie echoed.
“Keep who?”
Seth tugged the flap of his coat back, and out popped the bewhiskered face of a scrawny cat.
“Seth—”
“She won’t eat much, Miss Livy. I’ll share my biscuit with her. Pleeeaaasse.”