What to wear? Elizabeth considered her wardrobe. After all, this wasn’t a prelude to wooing. She didn’t even like the man. However, being handsome, strong, lean with a chiseled jaw couldn’t be completely ignored, but she couldn’t forget he was a Honeycutt either. Somehow she had to find out what the Honeycutts had to do with her family in the past. Perhaps she would ask him a few questions of her own.
She pulled an ivory blouse of soft batiste, complete with lace, from the clothespress. Pairing the blouse with a dark blue cambric skirt, she laid both articles on the bed brushing out the wrinkles. Yes, her choice would do, nice but not overly fine. Draping the clothing on back of a chair, she sank on the side of the bed.
What questions should she ask JP? How much interest should she show in the burned-out homestead? Did he have even a whiff of information she wanted? After all, he’d been a young boy at the time.
Her curiosity might rouse his suspicions about her. He might discover she’d applied for the teacher’s position under a false name. The last time her papa spoke of Bittersweep, he’d informed her folks in the community didn’t want the likes of the Clarke family back in town. Only trouble would come of it. He’d never mentioned Bittersweep or her mother again. The subject was forbidden. No, she couldn’t chance JP discovering her true identity. She needed this job. If she could slip in a question, she would, otherwise she’d leave it alone.
With her decision made, she dressed for bed and slipped under the cool sheets, smooth against her skin. As she drifted off, a summer storm released a downpour on the tin roof, soothing, comforting to have shelter from the rain.
The night and rain slipped away leaving a little more humidity in its wake. The early light of dawn crept beneath the edge of the thin curtains pooling on the floor below the window. Elizabeth rolled over and snuggled down embraced in comfort. She yawned behind her hand. It was Saturday, with no need to hurry, no need to rise. She gave a small gasp. Saturday. This evening she had promised to dine with JP. Not that she wanted to see him again—she didn’t—but the opportunity to possibly discover something about her past pulled her completely awake.
Throwing the covers back, she slipped to the edge of her mattress and settled into the dip, familiar now, and brushed her hands down her cheeks. She pulled her hair back away from her face for a moment before rising, her feet on the cool, wooden planks. The start of a new day.
All day long, she worried about dining with him and smoothed her garments again and again. Her stomach churned with apprehension, disquiet eating at her. The information she needed to relay to JP seemed unreasonable or had until yesterday. Could she afford to push her own agenda ahead of that solemn young girl’s? No, her opportunity would come. Amy needed assistance now. Elizabeth wanted done with the entire situation and laying the problem before JP would certainly accomplish that. She brushed her skirt again, glancing at her clock. Would the time ever pass?
Butterflies took up permanent residence in Elizabeth’s stomach. In a little while, JP would arrive to escort her to dinner. Contemplating the evening star twinkling so far away while day faded into twilight, she deplored the fact she was no longer young and foolish enough to wish on a star. She pushed away from the window. Clouds were smothering the last orange glow of the sun while crickets began to sing outside her window. She’d better make haste.
Managing a quick wash in the bowl of tepid water Betty had delivered to her room, Elizabeth slipped into her clothes, smoothing the cambric skirt over her hips. She pulled her hair away from her face and allowed curls to drift down her back. Studying her appearance in the long looking-glass, she turned from side to side. Not plain, but not overly done for a schoolmarm either. She nodded to her mirrored image and made her way to the sitting room to wait for JP.
The gentle glow of the lamp softened the room, inviting, welcoming, with the aroma of freshly baked cookies drifting in from the kitchen. She sank onto the sofa, pleating her skirt with nervous fingers.
The rattle of a harness and wheels crunching gravel announced JP’s arrival. She could hear the timbre of his voice calling to his team. Elizabeth wiped her palms down the sides of her skirt and stepped out into the hall. Suppressing a nervous laugh, she watched Betty race down the corridor. Elizabeth sympathized with Betty’s eagerness to impress JP. The young lady had arranged her hair and put on a fancy frock for the occasion.
Betty hurried forward at a near run and flung the door back. “Hello, JP.”
Elizabeth entered the hallway in time to witness JP doffing his hat. “Evening. Will you tell Elizabeth I’m here?”
“Elizabeth?” Betty stammered. “Valeria won’t like that. Not one little bit.”
Very softly, he said, “My dear Betty, I don’t answer to Valeria for any of my actions.” Turning his head, he looked straight at Elizabeth. “I see you’re ready. Great. Being kept waiting is a tedious female wile.” He motioned to the door. “Shall we?”
He took her elbow, escorting her to his surrey and offered his hand. “Allow me to assist you.”
Elizabeth took his hand and climbed aboard. The warm touch of his fingers, work roughened and strong, prickled her with awareness all the way to her toes. She found the sensation alarming after vowing she wasn’t attracted to him. She edged to the far corner of the seat.
A cool breeze, stirred by the moving surrey, helped calm her nerves. Aware of the quiet moan of the wooden joints straining with every dip in the lane, and the leather harness with a barely discernable squeak, she swallowed.
Keyed up with the necessity to inform him of Amy’s troubles threw her into a quagmire of conflicting thoughts. What should she relate first? Missing school, her mistreatment at the hands of the Blakes, or the incident with the mad dog? His venture in chasing rabid wolves seemed a likely place to bring up Amy’s brush with the dog.
Elizabeth twisted her fingers together in her lap and cleared her throat. “Were you successful with your hunt today?”
“We were able to eliminate the pack that had been harassing our cattle, but we didn’t run across any that displayed symptoms of rabies. Not that we could tell. Hope that settles the problem.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, the spread of hydrophobia hasn’t been stopped.” She couldn’t keep bitterness from entering her voice. “Like the yellow fever, it spreads regardless of the actions taken to prevent the sweep of the disease.”
He raised his brows and narrowed his lids, his gaze suspicious, hard, searching. “What are you getting at?”
She caught her breath. My mistake. I must harness my emotions, my attitudes. I must not reveal my truth, not yet. Have my questions jeopardized my job?
Elizabeth cut her eyes at JP. “Mrs. Ledbetter told me about the fever sweeping the land, but burning one homestead didn’t stop the spread, did it? And destroying one pack hasn’t fixed the problem of rabies either. Amy said she saw a mad dog the other day.”
He pinned her with his gaze. Finally, Elizabeth managed to glance away. She swallowed before catching his gaze again. “There’s more. I didn’t set much store by Amy’s story until my encounter with the wolf. She told me Mrs. Blake made her carry water out to a dog to see if it had rabies. The poor creature was mad and fell down with convulsions. Mrs. Blake and her children stayed in the house and watched out the window.”
He clenched his jaw, discernable in the first dim rays of the moon. His hands tightened on the reins and he gave a savage shake of his head. She was glad she couldn’t hear the words he held back.
“That woman needs to be horsewhipped. I can’t wait to pay the Blakes a little visit. Then, I’ll see for myself.”
Although she couldn’t agree more, she was loathed to say so. This was exactly what she’d hoped for, JP in charge.
He pulled up in front of the inn. “I don’t have much appetite left, but let’s eat.”
This time, he offered his hand in assi
stance and escorted her into the Silver Slipper Inn. Long windows allowed a view of the rising moon and a few stars. Briefly, Elizabeth gazed around absorbing the sounds and smells of the room. Silver clattered against china, chatter hummed through the room, and subdued laughter rang out washing away the more serious concerns of the day. As he guided her through the tables ringed with patrons, candlelight spilled across the linen covered tops. Soft yellow walls added to the cheerful atmosphere. She caught a whiff of the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat. Delicious.
JP guided her toward a table, briefly hesitating as he frowned at someone in the back of the building. She followed his stare directed at a gentleman and lady seated by the wall. Dressed in a perfectly cut suit with a snowy collar under the jacket, the man had dark hair, almost as dark as her own. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his sharply chiseled chin reminded her of a wanted poster she’d seen in the post office back in Madisonville. Ruthless, but this one was disguised as a gentleman.
The lady wore a silk frock of blue shot through with ivory. A charming bonnet graced her lovely, golden brown locks, styled in the latest fashion.
The man glanced at JP and allowed his gaze to take in Elizabeth. He said something to his companion and rose, slowly making his way toward them with a slight limp. “JP, how are you? Please join my sister and me. I insist.”
With a polite smile not reaching his eyes, JP said, “That’s mighty generous of you, Rupert. Still, as the chairman of the schoolboard, I have several boring items to discuss with the new teacher.”
“Perhaps coffee then, while you wait for your meal. I’d like to get better acquainted with the teacher. Valeria would as well.”
JP’s jaw flexed, but he nodded a trifle stiffly and turned to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth Campbell, meet Rupert Landow. He’s the local money grubber.”
Rupert cast JP a hard look from under his brows. “I’m pleased to meet such a lovely lady. Pay JP no heed. He’s full of himself. I own the local bank, but I do not grub money. I have financed a few grubstakes in my time. All legal and aboveboard.” He turned and led the way.
As the group approached, the lady greeted JP with a smile. “JP, how lovely. I didn’t expect to see you again before the dance.”
JP returned the smile as he pulled out a chair for Elizabeth, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Your brother invited us to join you. Valeria Landow, I’d like to introduce Elizabeth Campbell, the new teacher.”
Rupert took his chair and exclaimed, “I declare, I never had a teacher so lovely or young. What is this world coming to when the men folk allow such a charmer to escape unwed?”
With a forced laugh making a hard riff of sound, Valeria fixed her gaze on Elizabeth. “Pay no mind to these two. Don’t take either man seriously. They are rivals in everything they do including vying for the attention of the latest female to arrive in town. Roosters ruffling neck feathers at each other.” With a stiff smile, Valeria spoke slowly as if to drive home the message. “JP beat Rupert to the punch by bringing you here first. A statement of sorts.”
Valeria seemed a trifle proprietary. Perhaps that’s what Betty meant by Valeria not liking the situation. Slightly offended at the other woman’s attitude, Elizabeth cast her glance downward to hide the rolling of her eyes. She carefully picked up a menu and studied the fare offered. If the other woman only knew, she had no intentions of becoming a bone of contention between these two men.
JP ordered steak, potatoes and pecan pie for himself and Elizabeth as well. He smiled at Valeria before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. Dining became unnerving with Rupert and JP both vying for her attention. Valeria had the right of it. They were competing with each other to be cock of the walk. Elizabeth found the entire situation somewhat daunting. Still, she found the unrelenting courtesy and playful flirting amusing.
When the meal arrived, Rupert and his sister rose to leave. Frankly, Elizabeth was glad the awkward meeting had ended.
“We’ll let you get to it before your food turns cold.” Rupert faced Elizabeth. “It’s been a real pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand, bowed at the waist, and kissed her fingers. Valeria merely nodded, smiled at JP and slowly followed her brother to the door.
JP seemed annoyed, and he lowered his brows. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind, but no harm done.” He leaned back in his chair and cut into his steak. “Besides her bout with a mad dog, how is Amy progressing?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I thought to wait another week or so before reporting how often she misses class. Out of every five days, she has missed two, sometimes three days. I understood the entire idea of boarding her with the Blakes was to allow her to attend school.”
“That was her father’s intentions, or so I was told.”
Elizabeth picked at the pecans on her pie with her fork before glancing at him. “Mrs. Blake keeps Amy home on wash day every week. She’s required to cook for that entire family and mind the smallest children. I know she must help with the chores, but Mrs. Blake seems to think of her as her personal slave.”
JP stiffened. “If it wasn’t for the kids, I’d pull both of the Blakes out of their warm, soft bed tonight and tell ’em a thing or two. Still, to be fair to the Blakes, I need to make certain Amy hasn’t carried tales simply to gain attention. Losing her papa and brother could have her acting out. They won’t expect me for a couple of weeks yet. I’ll make a surprise visit.”
Elizabeth didn’t like to think of the child enduring treatment from folks who only accepted her for gain. How sad.
“Would you like something more?” He laid his fork aside and studied her face in a leisurely fashion, his gaze softened.
“No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another bite.” She offered an amused quirk of her brows. “Unless I sneak one of Mrs. Ledbetter’s cookies. Before we left the boardinghouse, she put some in the oven.”
He scraped back his chair. “If you’re finished then, I’ll take you home.”
“Yes, thank you. I do have an early day tomorrow.” She stood and glanced up at him. “And I want to thank you for taking the time to care about Amy.”
He left money on the table and escorted her out. “You may safely leave the problem in my hands. I’ll take care of it.”
Allowing him to help her into the buckboard, she settled against the bench. She could leave Amy’s situation up to JP. He’d handle it. A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. Another crumbling barrier she’d tried to erect against his attraction had fallen. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
Chapter 8
The full moon drifted in a cloudless, starlit sky, washing all below in a bright silver glow. Crickets chirped without pause in the cooling night breeze. JP halted his horse a good half mile from the Blake’s dwelling, dismounted, and tied the reins to a yaupon bush. After giving the sorrel’s neck a pat in passing, he strode toward the Blake’s place, careful to stay in the shadows of the trees hovering over the path. He wanted a good look around before he forced a showdown with those two.
A quick stride brought him to the holdings and he circled around to the back of the barn. The building tilted slightly to the left and boasted a small pen at the rear. Pigs squealed. Pigpen stench drifted on the wind, foul and recognizable with another faint odor following, maybe blood from butchered meat. JP edged closer and discovered a fresh cowhide clearly marked with the Rocking H brand hung up to dry. Rage consumed him.
A thief. Blake was a blasted thief. He couldn’t stand a thief or a liar. He trembled with the longing to thrash Blake within an inch of his sorry life. JP shook his head and clenched his fist. Keep it cool. Don’t charge in there half-cocked.
Cautiously placing each boot forward wary of the twig-strewn ground, JP made his way to the back of the house. He peered into the only slightly grimy window on this side of the dwelling, without a curtain. Lit by a coal-oil lamp,
the room was less than cheerful. Both of the Blakes sat at the faded, red-checkered oil-clothed table eating steak, the toddler perched on her mother’s knee. The two older children occupied the other chairs and were shoveling down the meal.
Be damned. That’s my steak. JP clenched his teeth, his rage growing. He swept the room with a glance and found Amy sitting on the floor in the corner, her food in a wooden bowl. He had a hard time controlling his fury. He’d bet she didn’t have meat in hers. That cooked it as far as he was concerned. She’d be leaving with him tonight.
JP pounded on the door. “Blake, Honeycutt calling. Get out here.”
Noise ceased. Every rattle of a spoon, tinkle of a glass, or movement of any sort stilled into tension filled silence. The crickets chirped even louder in the quiet.
JP didn’t want to frighten the children, but he instilled every ounce of threat he could muster into his tone and raised his voice, “I’m waiting. My patience is wearing thin.”
The slow scrape of a chair sounded followed by the shuffling of boots crossing the room. The noise halted behind the wooden panel before the door opened a crack and Blake peeked out. “What you want?” He glared and grumbled, “Come hollering around here, disturbing honest folks.”
Heat from flames of anger roiling in JP’s chest crawled up his throat to his hairline. “Get your sorry butt out here. Now.”
Blake stepped out, closing the door behind him. His brown hair, straggly, overlong, and thin on top, ruffled in the wind. He puffed out his narrow chest, resembling a strutting pigeon, and sneered, “Yes, sir, Mr. Honeycutt, sir.” He spit on the ground. “You and your filthy money don’t cut no ice ’round here.”
“You didn’t seem to mind lining your pockets when I offered to pay Amy’s way.”
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