He abandoned the door and backed away. He got just far enough that she could get some real speed up when she swung at him. So unexpected was it, Grant stood and took the full force of the slap without even ducking. The sound echoed in the hallway. She hit him so hard he staggered back into the wall, dazed and barely registering Shirt Lady’s words.
“You promised,” she yelled so loud a little dust sifted down from the rafters. “You lied to me.”
Trying to make sense of her words, Grant shook his head as she launched herself into his arms. A thundering sound that Grant thought at first was from the blow he’d taken was a room full of people rushing into the little entry all at once.
“You said you loved me.”
Grant looked down, trying to figure out what was going on. She caught him in a near stranglehold, and this time he wasn’t quick enough. She landed her fishy lips right square on his. He tried to lift his head, but her grip was like iron. He did look up though. Straight into Hannah’s horrified eyes.
Grant pulled at Shirt Lady’s arms and tore her loose. Freeing her lying lips only gave her back the ability to speak her awful words. “You said we’d be married, or I’d have never let you be with me as only a married couple should be. I might even now be carrying your child.”
The crowd gasped. Hannah’s face went pure white.
Grant saw Marilyn and Sadie cover their mouths, but their expressions were of shock, aimed at Shirt Lady. They didn’t have a single spark of doubt in their eyes.
Joshua pushed into the room and shook his head, scowling. “Pa wouldn’t do that.”
Shirt Lady broke into desperate sobs.
Grant saw the trust of his children solid in their expressions. He knew they believed him. But the rest of the town—the folks who barely tolerated him and his family to begin with—looked shocked.
He tugged on the little leech still clinging to him but without being rough with her, not wanting to be seen abusing a woman on top of everything else. He couldn’t get her loose.
Gladys Harrison’s eyes grew stone cold as she crossed her arms. “What’s the meaning of this?” Gladys said. “If you made this poor girl promises, then you’ll stand by them.”
Quincy shook his head, thinly veiled contempt on his face.
Then Grant saw Hannah. The color had faded from her face until Grant thought she might faint. And it wasn’t contempt or shock or anger he saw there. It was pain. He’d hurt her. Again.
“This isn’t true.” Grant nearly choked on the words. The humiliation made his face heat up until his ears burned. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
The crowd kept filling up the little entry.
People he respected, people he thought respected him, glared at him. Harold, Mabel, Doc Morgan, the parson. Mixed in were others who looked at Shirt Lady with disgust. Will, Ian, and Megan. His own younger children looked confused. It couldn’t get any worse.
Then Festus Brewster shouldered his way into the entry. “Startin’ a whole new generation of orphans, huh?” Brewster’s pockmarked face, wrinkled from years of grim anger, settled into creases of derision.
“No, I’ve never told her I was interested in marriage.”
“Just playing around?” Brewster shoved Grant’s shoulder, pushing him hard against the outside door. Shirt Lady held tight and staggered back with Grant. “Foolin’ with a woman just like the trash you came from and all the rest of this riffraff.”
“Don’t deny our love, Grant.” The crying rose to a wail. “Anything but that.”
Parson Babbitt stepped just behind Brewster. He didn’t shout, but that only gave his words more power. “This can’t be allowed, Grant. You know you’ve got to do right by this woman.”
“But I didn’t do this.”
The parson shook his head, his eyes burning.
Grant felt guilty even though he’d done nothing. Nothing except possibly lead her on by agreeing to that ride. He’d known she was interested in him. Would she disgrace herself in front of the whole town like this because she was so desperate to marry him? What woman would behave like this? Could she really love him this much?
His guilt must have shown on his face, and everyone interpreted it as an admission that the liar’s words were true because he saw the doubt on many faces shift to anger.
“You’ll do right by that girl, or I’ll see you run out of this whole county,” Gladys said.
“You and your young’uns should never have been allowed in this school.” Festus’s hand came down hard on Grant’s shoulder until Grant had to lock his knees to keep from being pushed to the ground. “You’re like a disease this whole town’ll catch if we let you get close.”
Gladys and Quincy Harrison nodded; Agnes and others joined in. Muttering voices rose to a low roar.
The parson looked tired, but his voice was firm. “You will do the right thing by this girl, Grant.”
“No, I. . .”
“I love you, Grant. Don’t leave me in shame. I’m ruined if you don’t marry me. Ruined!” She looked up, her eyes swollen nearly shut with tears. Her nose ran. Her skin was mottled red and white. Grant couldn’t remember ever seeing a more repulsive sight.
“You’ll ruin every good woman in this town, you and the rubbish you’ve taken in.” Festus was three inches shorter but twice as wide, and he outweighed Grant by fifty pounds. Festus had been harassing him ever since Grant was a teenage boy, taken off an orphan train here in Sour Springs by the Coopers. Festus, sixteen at the time, had made school a nightmare for Grant. And Festus’s children had tormented Grant’s children from the beginning. He knew the Brewsters’d come back to town and he’d been expecting trouble. The trouble had never come.
Until now.
“My young’uns come home from this school every day wearing a stench from sittin’ next to the dung heap of your family. I’ve been busy gettin’ settled’r I’d’a been in here afore now to clear out this rat’s nest.”
Shirt Lady wept and pleaded.
The parson frowned.
Brewster pushed and goaded.
Grant’s fists clenched.
He saw Hannah and knew he’d ruined this play that had meant so much to her. He’d somehow allowed this scene and shamed his children, undone all the hard work that had allowed them to be accepted in the school.
“You will do right by this girl, Grant.” The parson had always been a supporter of Grant’s. Now he looked so disappointed. Grant felt his will being crushed. The guilt and the trapped-rat feeling choked off any more self-defense.”
“Many of us in town saw you courting her.” Harold looked between the crying woman and Grant. “You can’t walk away from this responsibility.”
Mabel nodded.
Charlie slipped up to Grant’s right side. “He’s not going to marry you,” Charlie shouted in his childlike voice, high enough to carry over the madness.
“You stay out of this, boy.” Festus Brewster put his hands on Charlie, and Grant saw red.
Charlie was tough, a fighter, but he had taken on too big a target with the likes of Festus Brewster.
Festus was diverted from hassling Grant. He looked down at Charlie with a sneer on his whiskered face. “You’re another one’a them orphans. Stay out’a this. I don’t need to hear nothin’ from the trash they sweep up off’a the alleys in the city and dump on us.”
“You get away from Pa, and you. . .” Charlie jabbed this woman who had turned herself into Grant’s noose.
Grant noticed the little cry-baby, frowning in anger, in contrast to the tears that kept falling. He had the first inkling that, whatever her motives for crying and shouting lies, Shirt Lady wasn’t all that upset. Just determined.
His humiliation faded, and his head worked for about two seconds before Festus grabbed Charlie by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground to eye level. With a vicious shake, Festus said, “I told you to stay out’a this.”
“Get your hands off him.” Grant caught Festus by the
wrist. The night, so hopeful, so full of the Lord and the joy of the season of resurrection, was ruined and Grant was in the center of the whole mess. Everything was ruined for his children, for all of the other pupils and parents, and for Hannah. It was supposed to be a night of joy; instead it was going to be a brawl. The match was lit by Shirt Lady’s accusations, the crisis deepened by Festus, but the situation was pushed into a free-for-all by Grant-the-orphan, the one who brought all of these unwanted children into their midst. Because Grant wasn’t going to stand by and watch Charlie take a beating at Brewster’s hands.
Just as Festus appeared ready to toss Charlie to the floor and turn on Grant, Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is a marriage license. The lady who threw herself at Pa is married. Her husband has been hiding out in her house all this time.”
The whole crowd froze. Eyes blinking, the parson reached between Charlie and Brewster’s burly stomach and took the paper.
Shirt Lady grabbed at the document.
The parson evaded her and stepped out of her reach. Then he looked at her, fire and brimstone in his eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”
She let go of Grant’s neck to wrestle the parson for the paper, but the parson blocked her. “I don’t know where the boy got that.”
Grant saw the cold, calculating look harden her features. He saw something close to pure evil as she dove for that paper.
Grant stopped her.
Charlie spoke into the stunned silence. “I deliver parcels all over town. The day Pa came to tell Prudence he couldn’t go riding with her, after she tricked him into asking her, I looked in her window after Pa told her he wasn’t interested in seeing her ever. I saw her with a man. A man standing with his gun drawn, held backward like he was going to hit someone with it.
“You, Pa, if you’d have gone inside. While you were talking to Miss Cartwright, I sneaked inside and hunted around. It didn’t take long to find that paper. I knew she was up to something, with all her lies and the way she chased after you. So I kept it.”
The parson held up the document for all to see. “That’s what this says. She’s married. It’s dated ten years ago.”
Hannah spoke up. “I saw a man in her room the first night I was here. The night of the blizzard. Then again one other time. I didn’t know her well enough to wonder who was there, and then I forgot all about it.”
Grant looked up to see Hannah pushing her way through the crowd, closer to him.
“And then, when I was delivering to the sheriff’s office, I found this.” Charlie held up a wanted poster with Prudence’s picture and a man’s, wanted for pulling cons up and down the Mississippi River.
Prudence slid quickly sideways and reached for the doorknob.
Grant slammed a flat hand against the door to keep it closed. The sheriff fought his way from the back of the crowd and grabbed Shirt Lady’s arm. “Let’s go across to the jail and talk about this.” He looked down at Charlie and studied the wanted poster. “There’s a good reward for these two. It looks like that’s yours if we can round her husband up.”
Charlie said, “Give it to Pa.”
“No,” Prudence screamed. “It wasn’t me. It was my husband, Horace. He’s hiding in my shop right now. I’ll help you catch him.” Prudence’s voice rose until it was a wonder she didn’t shatter the schoolhouse windows. “He forced me to do this. He beats me. I didn’t want to hurt anybody.”
Joshua looked more closely at the wanted poster, and his eyes sharpened as he rubbed his head. The stitches were gone, but he’d carry the mark all his days. “That’s him. I remember now. That’s the man who hit me with his gun butt and knocked me off that cliff.”
“We’ll want your testimony if it comes to a trial, Josh.” The sheriff tucked the poster in his shirt pocket.
“If?” Grant asked. “Why do you say if?”
“These two are wanted for a whole slew of crimes, and they’ve hurt some powerful people with their cons. That’s why the reward is so high. They’ll probably want to take them to trial in Mississippi. Here we can charge them with assault and attempted murder, but the charges back East would lock them up for the rest of their lives. I’d as soon see them found guilty back there and be done with them.”
The sheriff pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it in Prudence’s mouth. “We want to keep her quiet so we can snag her husband.”
“I’ll help you bring him in, Ned.” Harold went out. Several other men followed.
The door closed.
Parson Babbitt came to Grant’s side. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Grant. I know you well enough that I should have taken your side from the first second. It’s just”—the parson shook his head—“I’ve never seen a woman do something like that before. I can’t fathom that kind of public humiliation, and to force a marriage.”
“But why?” Gladys asked. “Why would she want Grant so bad?”
“Oil.” Charlie held up one more piece of paper. Grant really should scold the boy for all his sneaking around.
“What about oil?” the parson asked.
“I found this paper right by the marriage license. Her husband’s been digging at the spring. Buckets of oil are worth money if you ship it out of LaMont. He wanted to own Pa’s land. She’d have married Pa. Then she’d be part owner.”
“B–but how would her being part owner do her husband any good?” Grant was still too befuddled to make sense out of any of this.
“She wouldn’t be part owner if you were dead, Pa.” Charlie scooted closer to Grant. It chilled Grant to realize the vicious plans Prudence and her husband had in store for him. But that chill was swept away as Grant realized his most recent problem child had finally truly joined the family.
Grant rested his hand on the young shoulders. All of the boy’s wiliness had paid off for Grant. All the sneaking and lying and stealing had saved the day. Grant knew he had to have a serious talk with the boy.
But maybe not tonight.
Brewster grabbed Charlie by the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet. “I want you and all of yours out of this school.”
Grant’s stomach sank, and his eyes flickered to Hannah’s face. He was still going to ruin this night she and his children had worked so hard on. But he couldn’t let Brewster hurt Charlie. He reached for Brewster.
“You let Charlie go!” The tiny voice brought dead silence to the room.
Grant, along with everyone else, turned toward that voice.
Hannah gasped. “Libby!”
Everyone in town knew about the little girl who never spoke. She charged straight up to Brewster and stood side-by-side with Charlie, her little fists clenched, her jaw tight and angry. Her tiny anger even stopped Brewster in mid-rant.
Grant couldn’t hold back a smile as he reached down and picked Libby up. “You spoke. Libby, honey—” Grant wanted to laugh and dance and spin the little girl around, but he didn’t want to scare her back into her shell of silence.
Charlie looked up at the little sister he’d ridden into town with. “Hey, Lib. You’ve got a pretty voice.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” Libby’s sweet smile bloomed.
Hannah came to Grant’s side and grabbed Libby out of his arms. “Oh, Libby, honey, honey, you talked!” She looked to be planning on the dance Grant had thought better of. He smiled as Hannah gave Libby a kiss on the cheek.
Grant saw the love and joy shining in Hannah’s eyes.
When Hannah glanced at him, her cheeks flushed a bit and she whispered, “Libby is my little sister.”
“Your sister?” Grant tried to add and subtract all that Hannah was telling him. “That’s why you tried to mess things up at the train station? You wanted her to come with you?”
“Not really. I mean, we had a plan that she’d just duck away from the train and get herself left behind. Then the two of us would hide. We knew no one would let me keep her if we asked permission, but we pulled the same trick in Omaha and it
worked. Of course we were supposed to be in a big anonymous city. Not tiny Sour Springs.”
Hannah caught Grant’s arm, her touch gentle, her eyes warm. “We never dreamed anyone would adopt a little girl with a limp. When you took her, I could only think of Parrish, my adoptive father, and how cruel he was, how he made us work in the carpet mill then took all our money and barely fed us. I didn’t know a man could ever be so kind.”
Hannah’s hand settled on Libby’s back. “And now she finally feels safe. Safe enough to speak. Safe enough to fight a bully to protect her big brother.”
Grant took Libby back and was honored that Hannah let him have his daughter.
Libby twisted in Grant’s arms, glared at Brewster, and jabbed a finger right at his nose. “I’m not going to let you hurt my brother.”
“We’re not going to let it happen either, little gal.”
Grant looked past Libby and saw the parson, determined and focused right on Brewster.
The parson, a man of peace, took hold of the town bully. All of a sudden ten sets of hands were laid firmly on the bully’s arms and shoulders.
Will, Ian, Joshua, Doc Morgan, Zeb, Quincy, more and more people throwing into this fight on Grant’s side. He’d learned to expect the worst from this town, but now they were standing with him.
Festus’s hands were wrenched loose from Charlie’s shirt without any blows being landed. Charlie slipped away and the crowd closed around Festus.
The parson spoke for all of them. “God says to turn the other cheek, but tonight I think He’s on our side. He doesn’t expect good people to quietly stand by while a bully abuses a child. We won’t let you hurt one of God’s precious children.”
Festus wrenched against the hands restraining him.
“And they’re all his children, Festus,” Quincy Harrison added. “Wherever they were born and however they came to be in our lives.”
“Harrison, you’ve always been on my side.” Festus raised his glowering eyebrows at Quincy.
“And I’ve always been wrong,” Quincy replied. “I’ve seen the error of my ways, and I’ll not side with you while you harm these youngsters. I’ll not stand by while you hurt this fine young boy or Grant or anyone else in this town.”
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