by Jade Laredo
Following the sermon, Parson Hanly dismissed the congregation. Arabella arose from her pew, and slowly followed her father as they filed down the aisle. Overwhelmed with curious attention somehow she managed to escape the onslaught of amiable well-wishers. Reaching the entrance, she hurried toward a secluded spot away from the fracas where she relaxed beneath the warm sunshine.
One by one, the congregation dispersed. With her father engrossed in conversation, Arabella turned her attention on Parson Hanly. She watched him saunter toward a lone tree where he met with the brooding latecomer she spotted earlier in church. The two men became engrossed in a serious conversation. She noted the way the Parson shook his head, while the younger man threw up his arms as if in exasperation. Curious, she wandered closer. So close, she could hear their intimate conversation. The Parson leaned forward as if to whisper, and then like lightening his brother withdrew his hand and clutched the minister by the shirt.
“You’re making a scene.” The Parson remarked.
“The Hell if I care about your virtuous flock!”
“Let go of my clothing.”
“If you so much as even think of touching this one I’ll break your pious neck.”
She watched as the minister smiled.
Very calmly, he pried the man’s fingers away from his vest. Suddenly, as if sensing her presence, the Parson turned around. Taken by surprise both men withdrew from their embattled stance. They both stared at her, one smiling politely while the other glowered. Embarrassed, she had not realized how close she had sidled up on them.
“I-I beg your pardon, Parson.” She stammered, averting her eyes from the hostile one. Forcing a tight smile, she cleared her throat. “I only wanted to thank you for allowing me to play the piano this afternoon.”
“Miss Gentry, you’re most welcome.” He returned, looking back at the fuming man standing next to him, he then brimmed with pleasure. “Perhaps then, even my brother might join us once again? I am truly a blessed parishioner. In walks, my wayward brother and once more an accomplished pianist straight from heaven. God has truly answered all my prayers.”
Arabella watched as the turbulent man forced a curt smile. The look in his eyes was anything but pleasure. If anything, he looked downright murderous. Stepping away from the tree, he forced a brusque smile and then turned his maelstrom gaze on her.
“Miss Gentry.” His voice was husky, and the least amused. Something flickered in his eyes, almost corporeal as he glanced over her. Without another word he walked away, leaving them standing there watching his departure.
“You must forgive my brother.” The Parson spoke with quiet reason. “Bray tussles with his demons.”
Arabella watched the Parson’s brother walk away.
She noted his powerful stride, like a dangerous cat he prowled with dead on purpose. Undoubtably, she knew nothing was going to get in the man’s way. Lifting a falsetto voice, she tried to mask her obscure thoughts by forcing a tremulous smile.
“I suppose we all have a demon or two tucked away?”
“My dear this is exactly why I’m the Parson.” He returned with a smile and chuckled. Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to follow. “Come now I see your father is waiting.”
“Sir, I’m afraid you’re most gravely mistaken. That man is not my father.” Arabella mused. “At the moment, he’s the Sheriff of Sundown.”
“Ever vigilant, is he?”
“Of late.”
“Well then, I fear he’s just cause with a band of outlaws on the loose and a lovely daughter to protect.”
Arabella blushed. She liked Parson Hanly though she could not think the same of his brother. She let her eyes fall on his retreating form as he jumped into a wagon with the rest of the family in tow.
“Well, I’m sorry for interrupting time spent with your brother.” Arabella grasped at his hand with an apology.
“No need to apologize, Miss Gentry.” The Parson smiled, squeezing her hand. “I usually see the family twice a week. They run a little ranch a few miles outside town.”
“Parson.” A Familiar voice interrupted.
They turned to find the Sheriff starring at them curiously. His watchful eyes lingered on their clasped hand. Arabella quickly pulled her hand away, noticing the tick, which plagued the corner of her father’s mouth.
“Sheriff Gentry.” He gave a decisive nod, and then wandered back toward the church.
“Really Father, must you try and intimidate the Parson?”
“M-hmm.”
Arabella hid a knowing smile. Her father was a man of little words. He always had an uncanny way of mumbling what he felt when he thought someone refused to take him serious. She watched the corner of his lip curl, boring his taciturn gaze on her as he ushered her forward.
“He’s harmless and quite civil compared to some of the men I’ve encountered thus far.” Arabella countered.
“Just looking out for your best interest, that’s all.”
“Surely you don’t think the Parson has any thoughts less than virtuous towards me?”
“Adam fell for Eve.” Wyeth suggested. “Even the bible tells of Godly men who have fallen from grace.”
Arabella smiled.
“I believe God created sin so we might learn from our mistakes. Besides, I think Parson Hanly has already had his fill.”
“Why would you say this?”
“Intuition.” Arabella replied smartly, crinkling her nose at her father.
CHAPTER FOUR
In the days following the town council meeting, news of Sundown’s new schoolmistress spread like wildfire. Despite Mamie Hartley’s desperate insistence, the Sheriff of Sundown’s daughter was not respectable enough to hold a position of trust, the rest of the council had voted her in.
Arabella waited patiently, staring out the window, feeling the first sign of dejection. Not even one single pupil. Releasing a sigh, she wandered toward her makeshift desk.
How could she blame the townspeople for their indifference? She realized a female alone with an outlaw did not sit well with most folks in Sundown. Reasoning with herself, she finally decided the town’s dismissal was a small price to pay, considering her own culpability. A sudden creak at the door diverted her thoughts.
Whirling around, she felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. There in the doorway stood the last person on earth she expected to see. Though his blue eyes had not sought hers yet, she could tell by the turbulent set of his jaw his gaze already simmered.
“Mr. Hanly.” Arabella respired. Her voice grew still when he finally looked at her. For a moment, all she could do was stare. Nervous, she shook her head and forced a polite smile. “What brings you here?”
Bray Hanly removed his hat.
He did not answer.
Instead, he stepped aside, revealing the adorable little boy she had seen at Sunday service the day before. Holding a lunch tin, the youngster smiled, showing gaped teeth and a wealth of freckles showered his pert nose. Arabella could not help but smile.
“And who are you?”
“Sam.”
“Just Sam?” Arabella laughed.
In return, the boy giggled. Like a playful sprite, he set his lunch tin down aside the wall and escaped through the front door, leaving them alone.
“Sam is my nephew.”
Arabella decided his voice sounded sinuous, almost engaging. Try as hard as she might, she could not ignore the fact the man was incredibly gorgeous. She liked the way the sunlight magnified his dark mane, and how the golden aura set off his swarthy face. She found herself ensnared by his puzzling gaze.
“Sam’s father, he couldn’t make it?”
Arabella immediately sensed her mistake.
She noticed the way he flexed his jaw when cornered with such an intrusive question. Looking away, he shook his head with a muted reply.
“My brother’s passed on.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Bray muttered. “You didn’t k
now him.”
“I only meant I’m sorry for raising the issue.”
Miffed by his abrasive behavior, she felt her lips tighten. “School lets out at three o’clock.”
Ignoring her subtle discharge, he narrowed his gaze with speculation. “Where’s the rest of your class?”
“Sam is the rest of my class.” She responded, somewhat dejected. “I guess most folks around here don’t want their children educated by a tarnished woman.”
“Tarnished?”
Arabella stared back at her desk. Flustered, she realized she had spoken in haste. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile she almost laughed at her own suggestion.
“Forgive me. I should not hamper you with errant hearsay, but being a fair person, I think I should forewarn you. The reason none of the other children showed up today is because their parents fear I’ve consorted with an outlaw.”
“Have you?”
Arabella did not miss the way his voice nearly cracked. Struggling to meet his pensive gaze, she withheld a shaky breath. She avoided him by peering out the window. Outside Sam pumped his legs beneath a swing. Like any adventurous child, the boy flew higher and higher until finally, he jumped from the swing. Landing flat on his stomach the boy yelped, knocking the wind from his gullet. The sound, which followed, was nothing less than frightening.
Arabella screamed. “Sam!”
Rushing from the schoolhouse, she could hear his uncle’s heavy footsteps close behind her. She found the child rolling around in the dirt, gasping for breath. Tears streamed down his face while he grabbed at his belly. After a long episode of groans and twisted contortions, the boy finally managed to speak. “Hurts.”
“Suck it up, little man.” Bray scolded. Patting the boy on his back, she watched him slip his hand beneath the child’s rib cage, checking for damage. Satisfied his nephew had not broken any bones he reached down, and grabbed the child by the cuff.
“Son, if she bucks you off, you’d better find a way to get back on her.” His uncle challenged. With a playful shove, he sent the child back to the swing. She did not miss the tenderness in his amused gaze.
“He’s a boy, no harm done.”
“Thank God, he’s all right.”
Bray nodded his head and replied. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You don’t waste much time, do you?” She answered. Crossing her arms, she felt her mouth suddenly set in a tight moue. “And I daresay it’s appropriate.”
“You’re the one who brought it up first.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Arabella had to smile. Throwing him an offhanded look, she shrugged her shoulders. She was keenly aware of his scrutiny when she answered. “All right then, if you must know I did whatever I had to do to survive.”
“I see.” The timbre in his voice sounded hollow, almost distant. She noted the strange set of his face, clamped mouth and fixed eyes. Surely, she did not see regret spreading across his handsome face. Feeling confused and somewhat indignant, Arabella looked away not wanting to take a guess at what he thought. Swallowing hard, she shook her shoulders, and cleared her throat.
“Mr. Hanly.” She paused, closing her eyes for a moment, she felt unsure with herself. “I’ll understand if you want to take Samuel home.”
“Why?”
“I think you know the answer to the question.”
“Sam needs an education.” Bray clipped, his eyes roved over her icily. “What you did or did not do with an outlaw, are really none of my concern.”
He had nothing else to say. The man turned on his heel, while she stood admiring his fluid stride as he walked away.
Later in the afternoon, Arabella found out Sam Hanly was a delightful pupil. Bright and inquisitive, he had an exceptional aptitude for learning. Each time he pronounced a letter, Arabella rewarded the child with dramatic praise. Nodding her head, she went with the boy’s rhythm as he zipped through the alphabet. Finishing off with the letter Z, he cocked his head and gave her a toothless grin.
“Very good, Sam!”
“Momma says I’m excellent!”
“Did she teach you letters?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well your Momma’s right.” Arabella praised. “You’re so very clever and she must be proud of you.”
“Momma’s gonna have a baby!”
“She is?”
“Mm-hmm.” Sam nodded his head. “We’re gonna name the baby after my Poppa.”
“Poppa?” Arabella asked, feeling her heart give way.
“He’s dead.” Sam whispered. With an edge of sadness, he blinked, looking back at her. “Uncle shot him.”
“Uncle Bray?”
“Mm-hmm.” Sam returned. “Momma said it was an accident, he didn’t mean it.”
Arabella closed her eyes. The child’s heartbreaking confession was more than she sought to know. However, the boy’s little insight helped her paint a larger picture of Bray Hanly. How it must be to carry such a heavy load. Feeling her throat constrict, she turned away not wanting the boy to see her tears.
In the distance, she heard the church bell ring, signaling three o’clock. The clamoring sound somehow soothed her frayed nerves. Releasing a shaken breath, she swiped at her wet eyes and set a children’s book down on the boy’s desk.
“Sam.” Arabella said. “I’d like you to take this home so you can read to your Momma.”
“Momma loves books!” Sam jumped up from his desk excited, hugging on to her skirt.
“I sure do.” A woman’s pleasant voice interrupted the happy scene. “Especially when she gets to hear how well her boy is reading them.”
There in the doorway stood Jenny Hanly.
Like a porcelain doll, a wealth of blonde curls escaped her bonnet, and her powder blue eyes smiled back at them.
“Momma!” Samuel shouted.
“Mrs. Hanly.” Arabella walked away from the child’s desk to greet the woman. “Sam and I were just finishing his letters and I must say he has quite a knack for learning. You should be very proud of him.”
“I am, Miss Gentry.” Jenny beamed, resting a hand on her protruding belly. “I want to thank you for taking your time with him.”
“You really don’t have to thank me at all.” Arabella smiled as Sam maneuvered around her to hug his mother by the skirts.
“Momma!” Sam piped. Releasing his mother’s skirts, he scampered toward the door. “Watch me on the swing!”
“Sam!” Jenny tossed her head aside while still smiling at the other woman. “Be careful! I don’t want to patch up another knee!”
Both women strolled toward the front door, pausing to watch young Sam, who already on the swing pumped his legs back and forth. Nervous, Arabella pressed her lips together. Watching the child climb higher and higher, she glanced over at Jenny Hanly, but refrained from telling her about the accident on the swing just this morning when her brother-in-law had dropped the child off.
“Since Sam’s father passed, Sam’s not been quite the same. I thought by sending him to school it would give him a change he needs.”
Arabella nodded her head.
“Perhaps, but then time has its own special way of healing. It took my father many years to get over my mother’s passing. The pain he felt was so immense one day he got up and left me with my aunt and uncle, and went west. I never saw him again until twelve years later.”
“Sheriff Gentry abandoned you?”
“Do you blame him?” Arabella turned away.
“No.” Jenny replied her voice solemn as her gaze fell on her son churning his legs beneath the swing. “It’s just he’s such a well-respected man in these parts. I never thought him the kind of man to wander off and leave his daughter behind.”
“No one knows our plight.” Arabella smiled at the woman. “We’ve been making up for lost time.”
“Have no fear. I will keep this between us.” Jenny replied, nodding her head. With a sad smile, she looked away. “I would give anything to have my husband back.”<
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“I couldn’t imagine.” Arabella tried to hide the tension in her voice. “Your brothers-in-law must be a huge help now you’re on your own.”
“Yes.” Jenny’s smile turned strained, a bit nervous.
“Especially Bray. He works very hard to see to our needs.”
Arabella felt her heart constrict. Bray Hanly worked hard to provide for Sam and Jenny. The act in itself was selfless. She instinctively surmised either he was a good man, or he lived with an immeasurable amount of guilt. Lifting her chin, Arabella drew a deep breath, and sighed. Who was she to judge Bray Hanly? She hardly knew the man, and preferred it this way.
“Mrs. Hanly, I do so apologize.” Arabella murmured, locking the door behind her. “It’s getting late, and I must get to the post office before closing.”
“No trouble at all.” Jenny smiled. “Miss Gentry, you must come to the ranch some time. Perhaps you could visit next Sunday after church?”
“What a lovely idea.” Arabella smiled back. “I’d enjoy that very much.”
Jenny beamed with pleasure. “We shall see you next Sunday.”
After Jenny and Sam departed, Arabella locked up the schoolhouse and walked toward the town post office. She paused just outside the establishment door, and reached into her reticule, withdrawing an envelope, a letter to her Aunt and Uncle Claymore with news from Sundown. Opening the front door, she ushered herself into the one room structure with the rattling of a bell and greeted the postal clerk.
“Good day, Mr. Hauffmeyer.”
An old man, no more than seventy stood behind the counter, operating a telegraph machine. As she surveyed the tiny room, she recalled Lena’s pennywise account of Sundown. It came as no surprise the post office and telegraph office were the same. Crossing the room, she stood before the counter, and waited patiently as the old codger deciphered his message. When he finished, he slowly turned and smiled at her apologetically.
