“What white folk?” Sean cocked back his head.
Mr. Barnsdall’s ears turned red, and he glared at Sean. “I don’t know. We’ve got white men becomin’ raiders and stealing our horses and breakin’ into our homes. If those men had land, they wouldn’t be raiding.”
Sean took a step forward. “Those men raid because they’re too lazy to find work.”
Riley’s admiration for the blacksmith grew.
“Well …” Mr. Downy swatted his hand at Sean as if shooing away a pesky fly. “We’re just having a friendly conversation, Sean. Reginald Cooper and some of the other cotton farmers came to see me today. They don’t intend to release their slaves unless they are forced to.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what this county will do without the income from selling cotton. We’re already scraping the bottom of the barrel with all the money we’ve had to pay out to help fund the war. Who’s going to harvest the cotton if all the slaves are gone?”
“Maybe it’s time the big plantation owners try a new crop.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Mr. Barnsdall pointed his index finger at the sky. “Cattle, that’s the future of Texas.”
“Bah! Cattle.” Mr. Downy shook his head. “Cotton has always been king in Texas and always will be.” He looked at Riley, crinkled his forehead, and his fuzzy eyebrows merged into one. “Who’d you say you were?”
“Riley Morgan.”
“Morgan?” The dentist stroked his chin then his eyes widened. “Not Calder and Emily’s son?”
He nodded, preparing himself once again, but the consoling words didn’t come.
“You got taller, boy.” Mr. Downy wagged his finger at Riley’s belly. “And you’ve lost weight, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I reckon most every man who fought in the war is thinner than he was when he left home, maybe except for some of the officers.”
Mr. Barnsdall shook his head. “That war was somethin’ awful. We’re mighty lucky we didn’t have any skirmishes around Waco.”
All four men nodded. Sean looked down the street and stiffened. Riley glanced past the other two men and down the road that headed out of town to see what had caught Sean’s attention, and his gut clenched. Miss Laura and Annie were walking home, and it looked as if they might be headed straight into a passel of trouble.
Annie watched a russet-colored rabbit hop onto the road in front of her. It froze, only its nose twitching, then darted off into the brush as if just realizing people were around. Up ahead near the school, three men on horses rode in their direction, but she didn’t recognize any of them. She lowered her head and sighed as she walked beside Laura on the road leading home.
Though she’d never had a strong desire to own fancy doodads, she took pleasure in looking at the new things that passed through the store. She longed to pick up a lace handkerchief or a new bonnet and really look at how it was made, but the most she could do without making someone suspicious was to run her fingers over them.
Pretending to be blind had ceased being interesting a long time ago. Maybe one day she could visit another town, where people didn’t know her, and she would be free to walk the streets at a regular pace and watch all the goings-on without worrying about anyone noticing. Maybe then folks would treat her as if she were normal and not cast pitying looks in her direction and shake their heads. She’d overheard, “Poor thing” and “She’s so pretty. If only she wasn’t blind …” more often than Mrs. Petree dabbed on perfume.
“I declare, that Alvia Petree could talk the ears off an elephant.” Laura fanned her face with her hand. “Pardon me for being so blunt, but that woman sure tries my nerves.”
“At least she smells like a flower.” Annie gently nudged Laura’s side with her elbow and snickered.
“You mean a whole flower garden, don’t you?”
Annie laughed out loud, and Laura did too. At least she had one friend who knew her as she truly was. Keeping her head down and holding on to Laura’s arm, Annie peered out from under the brim of her bonnet as the three men stopped their horses in the road, blocking their path. She felt Laura stiffen.
“Well, now, if that ain’t the prettiest sight I’ve seen in a coon’s age,” one of the men said.
Annie’s heart skipped a beat. While there had been on occasion adolescent boys who poked fun at the blind children and her, most men they encountered were polite and respectful, but this man’s tone left no doubt that he had tomfoolery on his mind. She lifted her head a smidgen, being careful that her bonnet brim shielded her eyes from the men’s view. All three wore the faded and raggedy gray trousers of the Confederate army and rode horses as thin as Mr. Morgan’s. She tightened her grasp on Laura’s arm. Could they be in any danger this close to town?
“Just go on your way, gentlemen. You’ve no business with us.” A person unfamiliar with Laura’s voice probably wouldn’t have noticed the slight warble that Annie detected. “I’m the administrator of the Wilcox School for Blind Children, and we must be getting back. The children will be waking from their naps soon.”
One man dismounted, dropped his reins, and walked toward them. “Them kids won’t even know you’re not there. Now us … well … we haven’t been in the company of two such lovely womenfolk in a long while. What say we all go somewhere and have some fun?”
Miss Laura gasped and backed up, dragging Annie with her. “We’re not that kind of women. I am offended at your insinuation, sir.”
“My what?”
“Your suggestion, Garth.” Another man dismounted and stopped in front of Annie. “You smell like a bouquet of flowers. How come you’re so quiet, missy?” The man stank like rotten eggs and tugged on the brim of her bonnet. Annie made her eyes go blank and slightly cross-eyed. The raucous smile fled his unshaven face, and he stepped back as if he had encountered someone with smallpox.
“She’s a purty thang, ain’t she?” a younger man, still on horseback, said.
“What’s wrong with her?” Stinky backed up all the way to his horse and smacked into it. The animal jerked its head and side-stepped, as if it, too, was repulsed by the man’s stench. Did soldiers never wash?
A memory slithered through her mind—of the dirty, young pickpocket who longed to be clean.
The leader of the group waved his hand in front of Annie’s face, and she tried not to blink. He muttered a curse. “She cain’t see nothin’.”
The man on horseback chuckled. “Maybe that’s a good thang. Then she cain’t see how ugly you are.”
Garth’s hand went to his gun. Laura sucked in a breath, and grabbed Annie’s arm so tight it pinched her skin. She pulled her back two paces. Annie stepped on the edge of her skirt, flailed her arm loose from Laura’s hand, and fell hard on her backside. The men roared with laughter. Laura bent to help her up, and while her friend’s body shielded her view from the men, Annie grabbed a large rock off the ground and held it behind her dress.
“Pray,” Laura whispered as she helped her up.
“Just take the old one,” Stinky said over his shoulder, as he chased after his horse.
A huge fist gripped Annie’s heart. No!
She wrapped her arms around Laura and held her tight. She had listened some in church, but mostly spent her time shushing wiggly children. Could a God so far away really care about her—about Laura? Would He even hear her if she cried out to Him?
Garth pried at Annie’s hand—the one without the rock. Laura’s whimpers sounded in her ear. God, if You’re up there, please don’t let these men take Laura. Do something!
Garth grabbed Annie’s wrist, digging his fingers into the tender underside. A sharp pain forced her to loosen her hold. She couldn’t overpower the man’s strength, and he pulled her arm away from Laura’s waist, giving her a shove backwards. He yanked Laura to his side, a leering grin spreading across his pockmarked face.
“Let’s go,” he said, dragging Laura beside him, her fists pounding his chest and back.
Stinky caught his horse but s
till hadn’t mounted. The younger man had already turned his horse in the other direction and glanced back to watch the events, his eyes gleaming.
Annie couldn’t stand by and do nothing. It didn’t matter if they figured out she could see. She wouldn’t let Laura be taken without a fight.
She let out a war cry that would frighten a Comanche and charged forward, lifting the rock as she ran. Garth spun around, dragging Laura with him, and his gray eyes widened as Annie lobbed the weapon at him.
He jerked back, but the rock smacked into his cheek. He howled, pressing his hand to his face, and when he pulled his hand away, his fingers were covered in blood. He growled, his lips pulling up in a wolflike snarl, then hauled back his arm. Annie closed her eyes and swerved, bracing for his fist.
Gunfire pierced the air, and she jumped. Garth sobered and lowered his arm. He released Laura, spun around, and ran for his horse. A rider whizzed past her and chased the men past the school, then swung back around and galloped toward them. Riley! He pulled to a stop so fast his horse nearly sat down. He dismounted, his concerned gaze going straight to hers.
It took every ounce of her control not to stare into his beautiful eyes. She forced her head down, blocking her view of him. Another horse pounded toward them from town, but she stood still. Laura, she noted, had mostly regained her composure though her hands still trembled.
“Are you two all right?” Riley stepped toward them but then dropped his hands to his side, the right one still holding his gun.
“Yes. I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue, Mr. Morgan. I don’t know what would have hap—”
“Laura!”
Annie knew without turning that Sean Murphy had arrived. No other man in town had ever called the school’s director by her first name.
“Sean.” Laura turned and disappeared from Annie’s view. She heard them walk away as Laura recounted what happened.
Mr. Morgan cleared his throat. “Uh … did I see you throw a rock at one of those men?”
She lifted her hand to her chest, hoping he couldn’t hear how hard her heart was pounding. What could she say that wouldn’t be another lie? “Did I hit him?”
“Sure did, but how could you know you wouldn’t hit Miss Laura?”
“I … uh … did you know that blind people have an abnormally sharp sense of hearing?”
“No, I don’t guess so, but it does make sense. Soldiers wounded in the war learned to adapt when they lost an eye or a limb. I reckon it makes sense that people who can’t see would depend on their other senses more.”
Annie exhaled a loud breath, grateful that the conversation had steered away from the rock throwing. She stared forward, her gaze resting at his top button and realized he wore a different shirt. Not new, by any means, but at least it was clean and didn’t smell like rotten onions. He smelled nice, in fact. Like bay rum.
She hadn’t noticed during the hubbub if he’d shaved or not and tilted her head just enough to see his tanned chin, free of whiskers. She longed to glance up and see if he was as handsome as she suspected, but she didn’t dare. Surely he was suspicious of her after seeing her lob that rock at the horrible man.
“You mind if I walk you home, Miss Sheffield?”
Annie shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll walk with Miss Laura.”
“Guess you weren’t listening. She and Sean are halfway back to the school already. She must know that you’re safe with me.” He picked up Gypsy’s reins and stuck out his elbow toward Annie.
She was so flustered that Laura had gone on without her that she started to lift her hand. When he halted suddenly, she bypassed his arm and raised her hand to her cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
His hand gently latched on to her wrist then placed it around his arm. She held still, unsure if allowing him to escort her was proper or not. She could have done fine without him, but she relaxed. The muscle in his upper arm tightened, and she realized that though thin from his army diet, he was a man used to hard work.
And he’d saved her from a bashing by that vermin. And saved Miss Laura from being kidnapped and much worse.
Maybe she needed to treat Riley Morgan a bit nicer in the future.
CHAPTER EIGHT
With her arms crossed over her chest, Laura stared out her bedroom window, watching the deep navy sky fade to black. Stars flickered overhead, as numerous as bluebonnets in spring. She rested her head against the window frame and thought about how close she had come to being taken captive by those heinous men. If Mr. Morgan and Sean hadn’t come along … She shivered just thinking about the awful things she might be enduring this night if not for them. Never had she felt so vulnerable.
Sean had done a lot to alleviate her fears. He’d been so courteous and truly seemed worried about her. He had insisted on walking her home after the horrifying incident and even sat on the porch with her until she’d stopped shaking. She hadn’t seen him up close for so long other than at church and an occasional town gathering, and then she was always busy keeping an eye on the children. In his work clothes he looked so … manly. He’d been so attentive and concerned that she could almost pretend he still cared.
Too bad he had never married and had a family. She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t but couldn’t bring herself to do so.
What if she was the reason?
But he hadn’t looked at her as if he blamed her for his solitary life. In fact, she thought she’d seen interest in his green eyes, but she was afraid to believe it. Could he possibly still have feelings for her?
Regardless, she’d chosen a different path years ago, and there was no going back.
“What was that sigh for?” Annie asked.
Turning, Laura wondered how much to say. The young woman had become her best friend, but nearly fifteen years separated them in age. In truth, she was almost old enough to be Annie’s mother, but their relationship was more like sisters than parent and child. She watched as her friend, seated at the small desk in her chemise and drawers, applied blacking to her Balmoral boots. Though Annie had grown up street-tough, she was ignorant about men and their desire for power and women, but today she’d had a rough glimpse of what self-centered men could do. “Are you all right?” she asked, ignoring Annie’s question.
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.” She glanced up, a boot on one hand and a blacking rag in the other. “I was so scared those men would take you. What would happen to the children if anything ever happened to you?”
Laura crossed the small room and sat on the edge of her bed. “I suppose we should make plans in case that should ever happen.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue what to do, other than watching over the children. I suppose I’d need to write to their parents and Mr. Morrow.” Annie straightened and looked past Laura. “Speaking of him, Mrs. Alton made up a list of supplies we need, now that we have received his draft for the month. The list is over there in my apron pocket.” She nudged her chin toward the back of their door, where her apron hung on a peg.
Laura stiffened. “I completely forgot about the letter after nearly getting abducted.” And spending a glorious time—albeit too short of a time—with Sean. She opened the dresser drawer that held her handbag and fished out the missive. She hesitated opening it, hoping it didn’t contain bad news, but she feared it must. Why else would someone other than Mr. Morrow or his agent be writing her?
Carrying the letter back to her bed, she sat and broke the seal. The strong odor of smoke made her wrinkle her nose.
Miss Wilcox,
I regret to inform you that my uncle, Charles Morrow, has died.
Oh, no. Kind Mr. Morrow was gone? She glanced at Annie, glad she was still engrossed in her polishing, then continued to read.
As I am his only living heir, the Waco property in which the blind school resides now belongs to me. I will be arriving on or near July 23rd to view the property and arrange with an agent to sell it.
“No!” Laura jerked, as if
someone had stabbed her. Pain squeezed her heart. July 23rd was just four days away.
Annie’s gaze shot straight to hers and she straightened. “What is it?”
Shaking her head, Laura scanned the rest of the short but devastating note.
Please make plans to vacate the school within thirty days from the date of this letter.
Otis Ramsey
Her hands dropped to her lap, as she no longer had the strength to lift them. Tears burned her eyes. Losing the school was too much to face in light of how her nerves were still pulled taut after the day’s events. She swiped at her cheek, afraid that any second she would start blubbering.
What would they do? How could she continue the school without a building or finances?
She tossed the letter on the floor and hurried to the door. She couldn’t let Annie see her fall apart.
What in the world? Annie stared out the empty doorway after Laura. Her friend was normally stalwart and not easily shaken. She wasn’t one to fall apart easily, but then today had been out of the ordinary.
The letter Laura had tossed aside beckoned her. Dare she read it? If it had been all that private, wouldn’t Laura have tucked it away somewhere?
She slipped out of the chair and tiptoed to the door, looking out into the sitting room, half expecting to find Laura in one of the upholstered wingback chairs or the rocking chair where she enjoyed reading after the children were in bed. But there was no sign of her. Annie quietly shut the door then hurried across the room and stared at the note on the floor, her heart pummeling her chest as if it sought to escape.
Before she could change her mind, she bent and scooped up the letter. The blacking from her fingertips marred the edges of the fancy paper, leaving clear evidence of her snooping, just as the shocking words she read tainted her security.
They were losing the house?
Her gaze roamed the bedroom she’d painted herself with milk paint, the only room she’d ever had. She loved this house—this room. This home.
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