Long Trail Home Page 16

  Another loud clap reverberated across the yard as he slapped the mattress against the rail. Letting her touch him had been a stupid mistake—one he couldn’t repeat. He’d be leaving here soon, and there was no point in giving Annie false hopes that something might develop between them. He had to do a better job of keeping his distance.

  “Hey! Hey! Stop that. Can’t you see we’re hanging laundry?” Annie marched toward him, a deep scowl puckering her brow.

  He hadn’t seen her since last night. He waved his hand in the air, trying to disperse the dust. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

  “Good thing for you there’s not a gusty breeze—or you just might find yourself rewashing sheets.” She hiked her pert nose in the air, her hands on her shapely hips, every part of her body aimed toward him except her eyes.

  Riley grinned. “I said I was sorry.”

  “Oh, fine then.” She stood there, as if she didn’t want to leave, and toed the dirt with the tip of her shoe. “What are you doing, anyway?”

  “Cleaning out the tack room, at Miss Laura’s request. She thought there might be some things in there worth selling.”

  Annie frowned. “I hate to think we’re so hard up that we have to resort to selling things. It’s a cryin’ shame that skunk of a man can just waltz in and take our home.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Suddenly her expression softened. “That didn’t sound very Christian. Sorry.”

  Riley couldn’t help it when his brows shot up. He was pretty sure this was the first time she’d ever apologized or talked about her new faith, for that matter.

  “You’re taking us to the service again tonight, aren’t you?” She cocked her head.

  Just once, he’d like to see a spark of interest ignite in her pretty, brown eyes. He kicked up a clod of dirt, sending it sailing toward the house. It slowed to a stop in the grass that needed trimming. “Yes, I will be. Miss Laura already asked me to drive all you-all.” He leaned on the fence rail and stared out at the pasture, where Gypsy grazed peacefully beside Bertha, the two having become fast friends. He had a fleeting thought to buy her, but then he had little money at the moment and no idea where he’d be in a month.

  “That Reverend James sure knows how to preach a good sermon. What did you think of it?”

  Riley grunted. Next to thoughts of Annie, the preacher’s message had been foremost on his mind. Both had kept him awake last night until the wee hours. He didn’t want to admit that the man’s message had flamed to life a hope he’d long ago stomped out. He’d never understand why God took his young brother, and although the pain had dulled over the years, he’d never forget Timothy. But why had God let his parents die? Why were their lives cut short? Why weren’t they there when he needed their love? How would he ever forget the things he had seen men do in the name of war? And why wouldn’t God protect a house full of blind children from a money-hungry villain? For a long time, he’d hardened his heart—didn’t want to believe in a God who tolerated such deeds, but just as good manners had been instilled in him when he was young, so had the Christian faith. He couldn’t understand why good people suffered so much, but the truth was, he was as tired of fighting God as he was the war.

  “That was a rather personal question I asked. You don’t have to answer me.” Annie spun around and started back toward her laundry. “I should finish my chores anyway. It’s not right that I make Tess hang all the laundry by herself.”

  “Annie, wait.” He reached out and grasped hold of her arm, gently pulling her to a stop. “I didn’t mean to not respond. It’s just that …” He released her and stared up at the sky. “I’ve had to face a lot of hard things the past few years—my brother’s sudden death, the war, and now my parents’ murders—and it all made me angry at God. I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth. Reverend James’s message hit the target more than I care to admit.”

  Her cautious expression exploded into delight. “Me too. I’ve been to church services the seven years that I’ve lived here and heard the similar words many times, but last night they finally pricked my heart. I just had to make things right with God, and if someone with a past like mine can, I know you can.” She smiled up at him, and he saw her useless eyes alight with her newfound faith. “Just don’t close off your heart. You’re a good man, Riley Morgan.”

  He watched her go, and he longed to follow after her, to pull her into his arms and tell her he’d take care of her. She’d stirred up feelings he thought had died with Miranda’s betrayal. But what was the point?

  He was selling his ranch and had no idea where he’d end up. Even if they could have a future together, did he want to marry a woman who was blind?

  And that was the crux of the matter.

  There was little doubt he liked Annie and was growing to care for her far more quickly and in a deeper way than he had Miranda. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she needed his protection more than a woman who could see and take care of herself.

  He exhaled a laugh. Who was he kidding? Annie didn’t need him. She was as independent as any woman he knew. She’d be fine, no matter where life took her, and that road most likely would not veer in the same direction as the one he’d soon travel down.

  As he walked back into the barn, he realized he’d created a dangerous hazard for Annie and the children by tossing all those things out of the tack room as he’d done. He started sorting out the trash from the useful items. The boys could polish the bridles and halters that he’d found, and then they’d be worth a bit of coin. He’d fixed a broken holster that was more suitable for the trash heap than useful, but Miss Laura said he could keep it since he didn’t have one.

  He dragged a moldy, half rat-eaten horse blanket behind the barn. Later, he’d move the pile away from the building and bury or burn the unwanted items. Back in the barn, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to decide what to do next. He hoisted the saddle block and moved it back into the tack room. Tonight, he needed to give his saddle a good polishing. He ran his hand over the fine leather. It was very generous of his uncle to give him something so valuable as a horse and saddle.

  A sudden thought nearly buckled his knees. He needed to write to his relatives and let them know about his parents’ deaths. He hadn’t even considered that before. Maybe Annie or Miss Laura had some paper he could use.

  He looked around the dim tack room to see if there was anything else that needed tending. High up on the far wall sat a small window that someone had boarded over from the outside. If he removed the boards, the room would air out and be a bit cooler, and he could build a new shutter for it in a day or two. He looked around for something to break the boards, but the room was near empty. Looking up, he spied a sturdy rafter, and jumped up, grabbing hold of it. He tucked up his legs and kicked at the boards. The first kick loosened them, and the second and third knocked them free, sending fresh air and sunlight streaming into the dim room.

  Outside, a feminine screech set his feet in action. Fearing he’d hit one of the children, he raced out the barn and around the side, where he spied a phaeton with a colored man driving and a female passenger sitting beside him. The falling boards must have spooked the horse that was still prancing sideways, nostrils flared. The driver was working the reins and cooing to the frightened animal.

  Riley slowly approached, his hands held out. “Whoa, there. You’re all right.” The black horse bobbed its head and began to settle. Riley grabbed hold of both reins in one hand, just below the horse’s chin, then he placed his other hand above the horse’s nostrils until the animal calmed. The driver set the brake and relaxed. Riley’s gaze shifted to the woman, and he sucked in a breath.

  Miranda.

  Annie helped Mrs. Alton finish up the last of the lunch dishes while Tess and Henry put the younger children down for their afternoon rest. Riley hadn’t come in to eat—again. His plate still sat beside the one Mrs. Alton would deliver to her husband. One of the children had mentioned hearing someone arrive just before they sat down, but
then Annie had gotten involved with the meal and forgotten about it until now.

  Curiosity drove her to the window. A fancy buggy sat in front of the barn, and a colored man stood beside it, looking as if he were talking to the horse. From where she stood, she couldn’t tell if Riley was on the other side of the animal or not.

  “What you looking at, child? I hope nobody sees you peeking out that window.”

  Annie drew back. “There’s a buggy out there with a colored man standing beside it.”

  “Guess he must have come to see Mr. Morgan, since nobody has knocked on the door.” Mrs. Alton looked around the clean room, a satisfied smile on her face. “I’ll mosey on home and give Chester his lunch. See you in a few hours.”

  Annie waved and checked the room again. What would happen to everything? The dishes and cooking pots would be sold with the house. Or perhaps there would be a sale to get rid of everything. She shuddered at the thought of the townsfolk haggling over their household items.

  Pushing open the back door, she stepped outside into the afternoon sunlight. She probably ought to weed the garden, but she was afraid to do that chore with Riley around. She feared having to explain how she managed to do such a task if she couldn’t see.

  Now that she’d given her heart to God, her lying bothered her even more. But how was she going to get out of the mess she’d created without hurting people?

  She plopped down on the back step. What was she going to do?

  Until she came to the Wilcox School, she’d never had anyone look at her with anything but contempt. She’d been a street urchin. A guttersnipe. Most people didn’t even waste the time of day to glance at her, which had made picking their pockets easier and more rewarding. The ones who had looked down had usually sneered and gone out of their way to walk around her. It wasn’t until she came to Waco that folks treated her like a real person, even though many still cast her odd looks because they thought her to be blind.

  If she told them that she’d tricked them all these years, they would hate her. The easiest thing would be to just leave town and go somewhere else. But that felt like the coward’s way out. What would God expect of her? She knew the Ten Commandments prohibited stealing, but she hadn’t read anything in the Bible about lying. Still, she knew it was wrong, but she had no idea what to do to remedy the situation.

  A woman’s raised voice pulled Annie to her feet. She stared at the barn. Why would a woman be in there talking to Riley?

  She longed to sneak over there and listen, but that was hardly proper behavior for a woman—especially a newly professing Christian. And besides, the driver was still standing by the buggy and would see her. Wandering alongside the house, she wandered toward the servant. The horse lifted its head, ears flicked forward, and watched her. The man turned around also, and his eyes widened for a moment then he ducked his head.

  “Afternoon.” Annie turned her body so she could view the barn without the man noticing, but all she could see was the back of the woman’s pink bell-shaped dress. A silk dress, if she wasn’t mistaken. With spiraling black trim all around the bottom. A matching bonnet covered her head, but the edge of her curled dark hair peeked out below it. Lest she appear interested, Annie forced her attention back to the servant. “Would you or your horse care for some water?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, miss, but thank you kindly. I just watered Jasper when we passed through town.”

  Annie noticed he didn’t mention being thirsty himself, but she let it slide. “All right then. I should probably head back inside. Good day.”

  The man nodded. As she turned, her gaze was drawn back to the barn. She could hear the trill of the woman’s voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. The woman backed up a few steps, and Annie hurried to get around the side of the house before being seen. She hoped Riley had been so taken up in his conversation that he hadn’t noticed her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she clung to the side of the house like a tree frog, and peeked toward the barn.

  The woman backed up several more steps, bringing her outside and into clear view. “Well, I certainly never—” She spun around and marched toward the buggy, her lips pulled tight as if she’d sucked on a lemon.

  Annie shrank back and hurried up the porch steps and into the house. She scurried to the window and peered out. Riley stood in the yard, arms crossed, staring at the buggy.

  Riley stomped out of the barn. “I came home expecting to marry you.”

  She paused beside her buggy, looking more angry than sad. “I’m sorry, Riley. I tried waiting, but I was wasting the best years of my life. You could at least try to understand.”

  “I was busy trying to stay alive, Miranda. Men were shooting loaded guns at me.” He yanked off his hat and smacked it against his leg. Why couldn’t she think of someone other than herself? “I wrote you as often as I could. I can’t help it if you didn’t receive all of my letters.”

  Miranda’s lips pinched tight, an expression Riley remembered well. “I can see now that coming here was a mistake. I just felt I owed you an apology for not trying harder to notify you about my marriage. It all happened rather suddenly.” She waved her gloved hand in the air. “I felt bad when Mother told me that you had showed up at the door expecting to find me at home.” Miranda turned her back to him, and her driver offered his hand to assist her. She hiked up her nose and her skirt, climbed in the phaeton, and turned back to him. “I just arrived at Mother’s yesterday and was too exhausted to attend the revival, but Mother did, and she told me you showed up at the revival last night with a pretty blonde on your arm. You can’t be too heartbroken if you’ve already replaced me.” She swiped her hand at the driver, who hurried around to the other side of the buggy and climbed in.

  Riley moved toward her, not wanting to holler the thoughts on his mind. “That was Annie, and she’s blind. I was helping her.”

  “That’s not what Mother said.” She faced the front, and the driver clucked to the horse. The buggy—a brand-new one if he wasn’t mistaken—rolled forward without so much as a squeak. The driver made a wide turn, and Riley heard the back door bang. It was just as well that Miranda left before he had to explain her presence. He watched her ride away, nose stuck up in the air. She was a pretty thing with her dark hair and fiery blue eyes, but she was as spoiled as three-day-old fish. He didn’t need her. Was probably better off without her. But the fact that she’d chosen someone over him still rankled him.

  He saw it clearly now; she would never have been happy married to him. He came from a family who had a decent home and land, but they weren’t wealthy, by any means. Miranda was better off with a man who apparently could give her the things she was accustomed to.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and stared down the road at the buggy as it grew smaller. Truth be told, he was glad she’d come. Now he’d not have to wonder about her. She seemed happy enough with her decision, not that there was much to be done now.

  He walked back to the barn, relieved to have that chapter of his life over. Maybe one day he’d find another woman that he’d want to marry.

  He snatched up a pitchfork and began tossing down clumps of hay into a stall. He tried thinking of the ranch and how he needed to find a buyer—of how he still needed to write that letter to his uncle and other relatives—even thought of his parents, but after a moment, Annie appeared in his mind.

  Somehow he had to find a way to remedy that. He couldn’t fall in love with Annie. She wasn’t the kind of woman he ever thought he’d be interested in.

  No, she was spunky, a hard worker, sassy at times. He leaned on the handle of the pitchfork and grinned. Oh, yeah, she was sassy.

  But she was also loving and kind—at least to the children.

  He set the pitchfork in the corner and climbed down to the ground floor. Maybe staying here until the school closed wasn’t the best of ideas.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  With clean sheets on all the beds, the children resting, and Laura upstairs in their ro
om writing the first of the letters to the parents about the school closing, Annie needed something to do. She wandered the house, memorizing each and every item—the way the chairs were neatly tucked under the table, the way the blue gingham curtains were pulled back and fluttering in the warm afternoon breeze. Trying not to think of the woman who had visited Riley, she walked out onto the front porch and sat down. But questions battered her mind.

  Who was that woman in the fancy clothes with that nice buggy? Why had she come to see him?

  Jumping restlessly to her feet, she paced the porch. Why did that woman have to show up just when Annie realized how much she was starting to like Riley?

  She leaned against a post and stared up at the blue-gray sky. She hoped the clouds would fill with rain and dump their load, cooling things down, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath. “Father God, it sure would be nice to have some rain.”

  She cleared her throat. Talking to God, especially out loud, felt strange—awkward. But maybe with practice it would get easier. “God, I sure hope You’ve got a plan for me. I have no idea what to do when the school closes. If it pleases You, Lord, would You work a miracle and keep it open?”

  The town drew her gaze. She ached to go talk to Reverend James to share her dilemma and seek his wise advice. Talking to him after the service was difficult. Others vied for his attention, and she and Laura needed to get the children home and to bed, and she had to have someone escort her back if she stayed.

  Ambling across the porch, she glanced over at the barn. Loud hammering emanated from inside, but she couldn’t see Riley. She glanced over her shoulder at the empty road. If she hurried to town, maybe she could see the reverend and get back before anyone missed her.

  Before she could change her mind, she pushed her feet into motion, hurried down the steps, and out the front gate. She kept an eye out for travelers, but not a soul was on the road midafternoon. Holding her hand over her eyes to shade them from the hot sun, she bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t taken time to get her straw hat. But it was upstairs in her room, and if she went to retrieve it, Laura would pelt her with questions.