“It’s getting better. I’m glad to be here rather than on any chore team. And this cave is a nifty spot.”
Now it was Holly’s turn to scowl. “Is Sheriff Wright teaching you new places to hide?”
“No,” Mason countered, looking straight at her. “But someone else seems to have learned how to sneak around.”
“Did you follow us here?” Liam asked with a smirk Holly didn’t like.
“I expect I was here before you,” Holly was glad to report. “I heard you on my way back into town.” She gave Mason her strongest glare. “I couldn’t for the life of me figure out who it was I heard laughing.”
“Very funny,” Mason said, his voice pitched low in annoyance as he turned to pack up the fishing gear.
“She’s right. You hardly ever laugh.” Liam settled his hat back onto his head. “I reckon today’s the first time I heard you, now that I think about it.” He winked at Holly. “It’s an odd laugh, don’t you think?”
“Liam...” Mason growled as he reached down to retrieve the empty fishing bucket.
“Not at all.” Holly found herself winking back. “Startling maybe, but not odd.”
Liam took two steps back and hurled himself over the creek toward town. “Why don’t you two talk about it while I head back,” he called as he pulled out of the sloshing water. “I’m done here.”
Both she and Mason began to yell after the boy, but he was long gone. Mason said a handful of choice words as he snatched up the remaining gear. “Sorry,” he apologized, “that boy gets the best of me sometimes.”
Holly picked up a bandanna that must have fallen out of Liam’s pocket. “He gets the best of all of us, I think.” She handed the bandanna to Mason. “You were kind to take him up here.”
“The boys have been rough on him.” He caught her eyes for a moment. “He cut his hand on purpose to get out of the crews. You know that.”
“I do,” she said quietly. It had been bothering her since the “accident.” “All this seems especially hard on him, but I can’t work out why.”
He balked at her. “You can’t see why?” Holly didn’t like the way he made her feel as if she were missing the obvious.
“No. He wasn’t even in the clearing when Mr. Arlington was shot.”
Mason pushed his hat back on his head. She’d come to realize he did that when he was about to launch into a lecture, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for one. “That’s exactly it. He wasn’t there to prevent it.”
“That’s absurd. He was the one who ran for help. We might all be dead if he hadn’t....if you hadn’t...” The shivers still hadn’t stopped coming whenever she dared to think about that day. “He saved us as much as you did.”
Something went through Mason’s eyes—a shimmer or a shadow, it was hard to say which—at her mention of his saving them. “Not all of you.”
“How can that be his fault? My goodness, he’s a boy. He didn’t hesitate when I sent him off the tracks, even though it was dangerous. He was brave. He couldn’t have stopped Mr. Arlington’s death. He can’t think it’s his fault. It makes no sense.”
“You think this is supposed to make sense? That any of this will ever make sense?” Mason put down the fishing gear. “Liam is clever and he’s been looking out for that group since the beginning. Those other boys, they have no idea how many times Liam’s connived their way out of trouble or hardship. They may be bigger or older, but Liam’s been the leader all along. You saw how he marshaled them back from the clearing, kept everyone moving and calm.”
“I did. He was wonderful.”
“He was making up for the fact that he wasn’t there when it really counted. It’s not math, Holly. It won’t add up in nice little rows. The fact that he was out getting help won’t ever erase the fact that he wasn’t there when the shot was fired. Ever.”
“But...” It was dawning on Holly that Mason wasn’t just talking about Liam. He carried the same burden—only twice as fierce—for what had happened to his wife. She took a step toward him, her heart twisted in compassion. “Mason...”
He backed up. “So now every time those other boys make a jab, he feels it twice as hard. Is it any wonder he did whatever it took to get away from them? Foolish as it was, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same at his age. Maybe worse.”
He was so terribly hard on himself. “Well, then I’m grateful he has you to turn to. He needs an understanding ear.”
Mason just harrumphed—the way he always did when she tried to compliment him—and picked the fishing gear back up.
She wasn’t going to let this go. “You understand him in a way no one else does. I think God knew just what He was doing when He sent you into Liam’s life. You said some wonderful things to him just now.”
He grunted again, pushing his hat brim back down to hide.
“You’re important to him. He looks up to you so much. You’re a hero to him, you know that?”
“I’m no hero. I’m just doing my job.”
She smiled. “Sheriff-Deputy fishing trips are part of your job?” Why was it so hard for him to admit he enjoyed spending time with the boy?
He looked around the small spot. “I thought I’d made it clear we ought not to spend time together.”
“But Liam enjoys—”
“I meant you and me,” he cut in. Holly could almost feel that wall he’d built around himself thrusting up between them, choking out every connection they managed to make with each other.
It wasn’t fair how easily his eyes could hurt her. “I didn’t come looking for you.”
“No, you only hid in the bushes and eavesdropped.”
His tone made her feel like some schoolgirl being scolded for peeking. But he was right. She could have easily walked on by. “Why must you be so mean?”
Mason never answered. He simply growled and pushed past her to walk straight into the creek, as if the cold water on his boots was preferable to one more minute in her presence.
Chapter Seventeen
Rebecca’s smile at the Selection Committee meeting the next day could have lit up the county. “I’m delighted to say the chore team idea has been successful. This afternoon, Margaret and David Holland have asked for Friedrich to be placed in their home.”
“Margaret heard Friedrich sing on Sunday while she played piano for the choir, and David became fond of the boy when they fixed the Hollands’ back steps,” Reverend Turner added. “With their son now off to school in Colorado, it was a perfect match.”
“Well, why didn’t they step up earlier?” Beatrice seemed eager to pull down the buoyancy of the moment.
Holly wouldn’t let that happen. “He’ll be so happy,” she said, picturing the grin that would be plastered on the boy’s face. “When can we tell him?”
Rebecca held a pen over the papers that formalized the agreement. “If the committee approves, we can tell him right away.”
“We approve!” Holly exclaimed, then looked around the table, “Don’t we?”
Curtis Brooks and Mayor Evans said “Of course!” at the same time, which made everyone laugh. Even Beatrice gave her consent. Holly felt sure an essential corner had been turned.
The only person not beaming was Mason. Since the day at the creek, he’d become even more sour and withdrawn—at least, around her—and Holly hadn’t thought that possible. Liam never stopped talking about how much he was enjoying his “deputy” duties. It seemed impossible to her that the frowning man before her who’d scowled at her whenever they met could be the same man who meant so much to Liam. She looked square at him. “You don’t agree?”
“Oh, no, I think the Hollands are a fine spot for Friedrich.” He sat back in his chair. “I’m just wondering how to break it to the boys that are still left. And Heidi. How do we tell them no one’s stepped up on their behalf?”
“I’ve thought about that,” Rebecca replied. “I’ve asked Charlotte Miller if she’d be willing to host the remaining children for a picnic dinner while Fr
iedrich settles into his new home tonight. The boys have been fascinated by Mr. Miller’s shop, and it will give them and Heidi something fun to do away from the schoolhouse.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” Pauline said. “Do you need the committee’s help?”
“Actually, I was hoping you and Mr. Brooks would come as well. Reverend Turner has offered to see to gathering Friedrich’s things and we’ll need some extra hands if the boys get rambunctious. For the most part, we’ve been able to tire them out between school and chores, but you never know what a little cake can do.”
Did Mason notice that he and Holly had been excluded from this event? Beatrice, even though she hated to be excluded from anything, seemed genuinely relieved not to be involved, but Holly couldn’t help feeling hurt. She bumbled her way through the rest of the meeting, which was mercifully short, until Mason cleared his throat.
“I’d like to bring something before this group.” He looked uncomfortable, shifting in his chair.
“Have you caught one of those boys committing a crime?” Beatrice looked far too pleased.
“No, and I continue to believe they aren’t involved.”
“Well, then, who is taking things?” Beatrice’s eyes narrowed as if the whole thing were Mason’s fault.
“I don’t know yet, Miss Ward, but I assure you, when I find out, you’ll be the first to know.”
Mr. Brooks cleared his throat and leaned in between them as they eyed each other fiercely. “Sheriff, you said you had something to discuss with the committee?”
“You all know I went to Greenville earlier to testify against the train bandits. Well, I received a wire from Greenville today. Three of the men have been found guilty of felony theft and accessory to murder. I doubt it will surprise any of you that these were men wanted for a collection of other crimes as well. As for the leader, Arlington wasn’t his first murder. So as it stands, three of them will go to jail downstate and the leader will hang.”
A silence fell over the room. “When?” Rebecca asked, her face pale.
“Tomorrow.”
Holly felt the familiar chill of fear that stole down her spine whenever she remembered that day. That man had shot Mr. Arlington as if it meant nothing. He’d pulled the trigger as easily as swatting a fly. The memory of the callous look in his eye still made her shiver.
“I was wondering,” Mason continued, “what you wanted to tell the children.”
Beatrice sniffed as if this required no consideration. “We tell them what the scripture says: That the wages of sin are death and that justice always prevails.”
Reverend Turner held out a hand. “I think we ought to be a mite kinder than that.”
“To children who may be committing crimes of their own?”
Rebecca squinted her eyes shut, Mason sat back in his chair and Holly groaned. “Especially,” Holly emphasized, taxed to her limit to be civil to this cruel old woman, “to children who have witnessed a terrible crime.”
“What these youngsters need is a sharp warning,” Beatrice countered.
“What these youngsters need is someone not thinking the worst of them at every moment.” Mason stood up from the table, towering over the group until he pushed back and walked over to face the windows. He was fuming. So was she, for that matter, but she’d managed to contain her anger whereas Mason looked as if he’d boil over any minute. This man was capable of a fierce loyalty, and it was clear Liam—and perhaps all of the children—had come under that protection. She’d felt that loyalty for a moment at the tracks and then again in brief glimpses since then. Its fierceness had grasped some part of her that wasn’t ready to let go of Mason, no matter how mean he’d been.
“Seems to me,” Curtis Brooks said in a conciliatory tone, “the children need to know they can count on justice doing its job. They should know the men were punished, but perhaps we can spare them the crueler details. And they should be reminded that in these parts, we don’t condemn someone until we have proof they are guilty.”
“And even if they are guilty,” Reverend Turner added, “good Christians are commanded to show mercy.”
Mason made a loud hrumph from over by the window.
“I think we all have things to do before this evening’s dinner,” Mayor Evans said, closing the little gray notebook she used at every official meeting. “Rebecca, why don’t you and I walk over to the schoolhouse? I’ve some more ideas for chore teams and we can talk about which families might still be convinced to take the remaining children.”
As the meeting ended, Holly broke a promise to herself and went over to stand beside Mason. His grip on the window frame was white-knuckled, the panes reflecting his deep scowl. “Thank you for defending the children.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “They’ve suffered enough. I’ve no mind to let Beatrice add to it with her rushes to judgment.”
“Do you think the boys are taking things?”
He turned, his shoulders falling in resignation. “I can’t rightly say. Liam swears to me he’s not taken anything, and I believe him. But he has been sneaking out, and who knows what the other boys have done.” He leaned against the wall, his expression falling into a pained reluctance. After a glance around the room to ensure it was empty, he continued. “He was out on Victory Street that night.”
“What night?” Then Holly suddenly swallowed, grasping his meaning. She felt herself glancing around, not wanting another soul to hear this conversation. “Oh.”
“He saw us.”
“Oh.” Holly couldn’t quite fathom what to do with that information.
“So did Miss Sterling. You know that, don’t you? She shut the door just as I...left.”
In that moment, Holly decided no matter how much it hurt, she needed one question answered. “Why did you kiss me?” She’d been stunned that night, and then wounded, and then angry and then confused. And now? Now she didn’t know what she was except that it was driving her plum mad how facts wouldn’t line up. It hardly seemed to matter that it was a mortifying question. He’d already hurt her and embarrassed her and a dozen other things besides, so what was one mortifying question if it gave her some peace?
He turned, eyes wide. “Why?”
“Yes, why did you ever kiss me in the first place?” He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. He was the only one with an answer to that question. She certainly didn’t know why he’d kissed her the way he did when she’d barely been able to get the time of day from him. “It can’t have been my gift. You returned it. Worse than returned it, you ripped it. You ripped a book. You had to know how offensive I would find that.” She’d spent so long being hurt about it that now she found herself demanding an explanation. She lowered her voice and was surprised to find herself glaring at him. “You kissed me, and then deliberately hurt me. You’ve been nothing but mean to me since. And I want to know why.”
He shifted his weight, scratched his chin even, but did not speak.
Holly planted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. “I believe I’m entitled to an explanation.”
He made a noise like a laugh, only deeper.
“Well, I do.” Her voice pitched too loud, and she clamped her mouth shut but narrowed her eyes at him.
He practically growled. “You never stop, do you?”
That wasn’t much of an answer. “What kind of a question is that?”
“I could say the same of you.” He lowered his voice. “What kind of a question is ‘why did you kiss me?’” He nearly hissed it, as if he didn’t even like repeating the words.
She was not leaving until she had an explanation sufficient to quiet the storm in her head. She hadn’t any dignity left to lose. “I admit it’s unconventional, but in my experience men do not kiss women...that way—” she was flushing just thinking about the intensity she’d felt when he held her “—and then be so hurtful and dismissive.”
He turned away from her, pacing the room. “‘In your experience.’” His parroting held ju
st enough befuddlement to keep from being cruel, but it stung nonetheless.
How like him to hit the exact point of her weakness. She hadn’t much experience at all—almost none. The last man—boy, actually—to kiss her had done it on the worst kind of dare. One of those hideously mean classmates at Miss Ogilvie’s School for Girls had promised Matthew Batten a kiss if he persuaded Holly to kiss him first. She could still hear the snickering of their amusement as they ducked from behind the tree where the boy had given Holly her first true kiss. Her “experience” was as a pawn in some girl’s grand mean game of hard-to-get.
Holly felt her confidence sinking fast, forcing her straight to the point. “Evidently, I made some error in trying to be kind to you, to show you God’s mercy. That mercy which you seem to find so...” she couldn’t think of the word, but settled for “...intolerable. Because you’ve gone out of your way since then to make it clear that you don’t wish to be anywhere near me, I need to know—why did you kiss me?”
Mason ran his hands through his hair. At least with his hat off, she could see his eyes. “Hang it all, you really want me to answer that, don’t you?”
He seemed so tall, glaring down at her. “I’m not in the habit of asking idle questions. I can’t make sense of what you did, so I have no choice but to ask you to explain yourself.”
“It’s not something I thought out.” Mason squared off at her. “Look, this is exactly why you and I should stay away from each other. You drive me to fool notions, Holly Sanders. You are the most...confounded woman!” A door shut somewhere in the church and he brought his voice down to a whisper again. “I kissed you because...you were looking at me with those big eyes, saying dreamy things, all sweet and...” One hand went to the back of his neck, and his expression changed completely. “You have no idea what you did, do you? You really don’t have the slightest notion.” He turned away, pacing. “This is exactly why I can’t be around you.”
He saw this as her fault? “I was trying to be kind.”
“Kind? You could kill a man with that sort of kindness. All high hopes and soft words.”
Family Lessons Page 18