Tears stung her eyes, blurring her view of the cherished room. What would happen to her? To the children?
And what about Laura? She’d sacrificed the possibility of having her own family in order to care for their students.
Crossing her arms tight around her, she rocked back and forth. She had nowhere else in the whole world to go. This town was her home, and every single person believed her to be blind. No one would take her in if they knew the truth. No one would hire her to work. What would she do?
One thing was certain—she’d never return to her old ways. She could never again be a pickpocket, even if she faced starvation. She wadded up the paper and tossed it across the room, then hurried downstairs to find Laura.
Riley guided the wagon across the dry creek bed and onto his family’s property. He had to admit that he was thankful to not be returning home alone this time. Instead, a wagonload of giddy children sang a jaunty song about butterflies and bumblebees, while Miss Annie sat beside him, uncharacteristically quiet. Her shoulder bumped his as the wagon dipped into a deep rut and scrambled back out, but she made no effort to slide over on the seat.
He hadn’t seen much of her after the raiders’ attack yesterday, except at supper, and she’d seemed in fine spirits then. Miss Laura, though, who’d recruited him to escort her and the children on an outing, had deserted them, saying she had important business in town.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The morning sun warmed his face, but did little to remove the apprehension he felt at seeing his home in disarray again. When he’d requested off to return home for the day, Miss Laura had asked if they could use his land for an outing. Had she known it would make things easier on him to not return alone? And with the children being sightless, they wouldn’t be upset by the looks of the place.
He glanced sideways at Miss Annie. She sat with her arms crossed, and every so often she’d sigh without realizing it. A light-green gingham sunbonnet that matched her dress shielded her pretty face from view, but he was sure he’d find a scowl there if he could see it. He wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him that something was wrong, but he couldn’t. “You care to say why you’re so quiet?”
Her head jerked toward him. “What?”
“I can tell something’s upset you. Don’t try to deny it.”
She shrugged and turned her ear toward the children. “Are you-all sitting down?”
“Yes, Miss Annie,” they responded in unison.
“Anybody hanging over the side of the wagon?”
“No, Miss Annie.”
“That’s good, because it’s a long walk back if one of you should fall out.”
“Not too far for me,” Rusty shouted. “Hey, let’s sing ‘John Brown’s Body’ next.”
“No, let’s not,” Miss Annie said. “Sing the Bingo song.”
Cheers rang out, then young voices filled the air.
Riley enjoyed sitting close to Miss Annie. He leaned toward her to be heard over the din. “They sing real nice.”
She nodded. “Music is one way they can express themselves. Many blind people are especially talented in playing an instrument or singing.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” She gave him a small smile and shook her head. “Can’t carry a tune. Miss Laura is the one with the musical talent. She can sing like a songbird.”
“I bet you could do about anything you set your mind to.”
Her face turned toward him but he leaned his elbows on his knees, holding the reins loosely between his fingers, and watched a fly buzzing around one of the horses’ ears. He felt as if she were studying him, but that was nonsense.
“Why would you say such a thing? You hardly know me.”
He shrugged. “I figure any blind person who can find a rock and conk a raider on the head with it, can do about anything.” She could also milk a cow, hang laundry, and scurry around the yard better than most people he knew.
Her cheeks reddened. “That was rather impulsive of me.”
“Don’t know how you avoided hitting Miss Laura with that rock. I’d sure hate to rile you. Could be dangerous.”
She was quiet for a moment, and then a sweet sound poured from her—a giggle. She shook her head. “I don’t know what got into me—and I certainly don’t know how I hit that awful man. It was probably stupid of me, but I just had to try to do something to help Miss Laura.”
Riley grinned. “And what was that howl you bellowed? It would rival any Confederate soldier’s.”
Her cheeks flamed, making her even prettier. “I was angry.”
“See, I knew that was a dangerous thing.” He chuckled, enjoying bantering with her.
“I imagine you must have looked like a warrior charging down the road on your trusty steed. You certainly sounded like one. You’re lucky I didn’t throw that rock at you.”
He leaned back in the seat, liking the image she portrayed of him as a warrior instead of a battered soldier. He was getting used to coming to her rescue, whether she liked it or not. During the war, he’d known many men who thought themselves invincible, and most were now dead. Miss Annie needed to learn she had limitations that a person with sight didn’t, whether she believed it or not. He didn’t want her getting hurt.
Riley took slow breaths, bracing himself as they crested the hill and his family home came into view. At least this time he didn’t have to deal with the shock of the unknown, although the sight still created a twisting ache in his gut. What was he going to do? How could he ever live here again?
CHAPTER NINE
Annie sat on a blanket under the shade of a huge pecan tree, packing up the last of their picnic. Camilla and Lissa lay fast asleep at her feet, exhausted and red-cheeked from playing in the sunny field and frolicking in the shallow creek. Tess and Becky sat quietly chatting on the far corner of the blanket, attempting to string together chains from the daisies they had picked earlier with Mr. Morgan’s help. While Rusty wriggled at the edge of the creek, allowing the water to soothe a bee sting, Mr. Morgan and Henry waded nearby, collecting rocks.
If not for having to remember all day that she was supposed to be blind and being careful to not slip up, things would have been perfect. She’d never spent so much time in a man’s company and hadn’t known it could be enjoyable. Riley Morgan was gentle and patient with all of the children, and his smiles for them told her he was enjoying their company. But she hadn’t missed the sideways glances he’d shot toward his house and how it saddened him to see it in such a state of disrepair.
How dreadful it must be to know his parents perished there, fighting for their lives. She was glad that he hadn’t had to return alone. She and the children weren’t much comfort, but she hoped they were a little.
She lifted her hair off her neck, allowing the breeze to cool it. What would it have been like to grow up in such a peaceful place? To have a father and mother who loved you and doted on you? She could barely remember her mother. They hadn’t had much back then, but at least she didn’t have to run the streets, stealing from good, law-abiding citizens.
Sounds of laughter emanated from the creek as Henry and Riley held a splashing contest. She admired the way Riley stood still, taking the brunt of the splashes and allowing the boy to be the victor. Rusty hollered to join in, and then the three were splattering each other.
Finally, Henry plopped down beside the younger boy, and Riley walked toward her, carrying his lithe, muscled physique on his long legs. He raised his hand, smoothing his hair, a satisfied smile replacing the lost look that so often encompassed his expression. He was a fine-looking man, even while hobbling on his tender bare feet over the rocky bank. She swallowed hard, and forced herself to look away before he caught her staring.
He stopped right beside her, and she could feel his eyes on her. She focused on his pale feet—so white compared to his tanned face and hands that they looked as if they could belong to another person. Her gaze traveled to his long toes. She was barely able to contai
n her giggle at seeing the tuft of dark hair on the three biggest ones. Who knew men had hairy toes?
“Looks like you could do with a cooling off, Miss Annie.”
She lifted her head so that her gaze landed on the creek without moving her eyes. A dip in the water would feel wonderful, but it would most improper to have her dress clinging to her as Mr. Morgan’s shirt was stuck to him like a second skin. “I … uh … no, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“No, I don’t think you are.” He bent down, and the next thing she knew, he shook his head like a dog, sprinkling drops of water on her.
She squealed but quickly lowered her voice so as not to awaken the girls. “You beast,” she hissed teasingly, even though the water felt refreshing. “Be careful, or I’ll lob a rock at you.”
He chuckled then dropped down beside her. “After living in a world filled with tension for so long, I can’t tell you how good it feels to relax and play with those young’uns.”
“Was it horrible? The war, I mean?”
He stared off in the distance. “Yeah. Most times it was.”
“I’m so glad the war didn’t reach Waco. I don’t know what we would have done.”
He gazed off and sighed before turning his eyes toward his house. A different kind of war had played out here. She’d have to be more careful of the things she said. The last thing she wanted was to cause him more pain.
Becky yawned and leaned her head on Tess’s shoulder.
“Girls, go ahead and lie down and rest for a bit. Being out in the sun tires out a body.”
“Aw, do we have ta?” Lissa yawned again, her eyes drooping.
“Yes. You’ll feel much better for taking a short nap,” Annie said.
Lissa slipped down like melted butter, but Tess, being older, wasn’t so ready to give in. Annie recognized the defiant set to the nine-year-old’s mouth.
“If you’re not sleepy, Tess, why don’t you lie down and just rest and see how many different birds you can hear?”
“All right, Miss Annie.” The girl lay down, her feet hanging off the end of the blanket and her hands behind her head.
“Can you see the boys?” she asked Riley. “Are they all right?”
“They’re fine. Just sitting at the edge of the water.”
“Thank you for spending time with them. They need a man’s influence, but rarely get it.”
“What about their fathers? Do they ever come to see them?”
Annie shook her head. “Both boys are orphans.” And she didn’t know what would happen to them if the school closed.
They sat there in silence for a while, the children’s soft sleeping sounds rising up around them. Riley squeezed the water from the ends of his untucked shirt. Annie almost suggested he take it off so that it would dry quicker, but then she realized how improper such a suggestion was. There’d been a time not so long ago that she’d have just spouted out the first thing that came to her mind, but she was finally learning to think before she spoke.
“A wagon’s coming.” He stood, reached up into the tree where he’d hung his gun belt before going in the water, then strapped it on.
Annie stood too, making sure she stayed behind Riley. She cast a quick glance toward the wagon that held two people then looked back to check on the boys. Henry had already heard the wagon because he stood and turned toward the sound of jingling harness.
Riley stepped back and patted Annie’s shoulder, his hand lingering for a moment. “It’s all right. Just Miss Laura and Sean Murphy.”
She exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath. She hadn’t really expected trouble from someone moseying along in a wagon, but after yesterday, her nerves were coiled tighter than Alvia Petree’s bun. And if something were to happen, there was no place close for the children to hide.
“The boys are doing fine. Just sitting in the shallow water,” Riley said. “Let’s walk out and meet the wagon, so we don’t wake the girls.”
Before she could object, he gently took her hand and looped it around his arm. Shivers coursed through her, but not from the dampness of his shirt. She had never understood the lure of a woman to a man, but there was a security she’d never before experienced in walking at a kind man’s side, knowing he’d protect her. Hadn’t he proven that yesterday? And yet, how could she trust this man she’d only known a week when her own father hadn’t protected her?
As they drew near the wagon, she tugged her arm free. She glanced at Laura, hoping to see her looking happy and successful in her attempt to secure another location for the school. Instead, she looked resigned. Sad.
Mr. Murphy stopped the wagon and set the brake then assisted Laura down. She glanced past Annie to where the children rested then she turned her gaze on Riley. “I know you wanted to spend some time at your home, Mr. Morgan, and I do thank you for indulging me this day and helping Annie oversee the children.”
He touched the brim of his hat. “It was my pleasure, ma’am.”
“Why don’t you go on up to your home now—and take Annie along with you? It would be good for her to get away from the children for a while. Sean and I can watch them.”
Annie had a hard time not looking at Riley. She was sure he wouldn’t want her tagging along, and when he didn’t respond, she offered the excuse he probably wanted. “I’m fine. I don’t need a break.”
“No, you go on.” Miss Laura waved her hand, fingers down, shooing her off like she was a pesky gnat.
“It’s fine if you want to come,” Riley said, although his tone didn’t sound all that convincing.
She was curious about him and his family, and she really wanted a peek inside his home. Every so often, while he’d been engaged with the children, she’d cast a look over at the house, but it was too far away to tell much about it. She’d never seen a place that Indians had attacked before, but she didn’t want to intrude. And why was Miss Laura pushing her to go? Did she just want to be alone with Sean for a while longer? She turned back to Mr. Morgan. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“It’s fine. Here, take my arm.” He took her hand, his fingers warm against hers, and once again wrapped her arm around his. “It’s not far, but the ground is rocky and dips in places.”
Sean was checking his horses and had his back turned, so she flashed Laura an irritated look. Laura ignored her and started walking toward the children.
As they strolled the short way to Riley’s house, Annie kept her head tilted away from him so that he wouldn’t notice her staring at their surroundings. Her dress swished through the foot-tall grass and wildflowers, sending a disturbed grasshopper leaping away to a quieter spot. Bald cypress and live oaks hugged the creek bank, offering cherished shade from the hot Texas sun, but few stood in the fields where she could imagine cattle and horses grazing in the wide valley. “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “Even though we live a bit outside of town, sometimes we can hear the noise from one of the saloons or even Sean’s hammering. It just depends on which way the wind is blowing.”
He gave off a snort. “I used to hate this place because of the quiet. I was miserable when we first moved here.”
“Why? I think I would love living someplace like this.” Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw him glance at her, his surprise evident.
“Well, because I missed my friends mostly. And I knew ma didn’t want to move any farther from her family, so I suppose I was angry at my pa for not listening and upsetting her.”
“I can understand that. Laura is the only friend I’ve ever had. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if she moved away.”
Riley stared at the pretty, young woman at his side. How was it that she’d only ever had one close friend? Had she been locked away all her life, separated from others because of her blindness? How sad that she’d never known the friendship of girls her own age.
But then hadn’t his life been much the same? He’d not made many close friends after his family had moved to the Waco area, but at least he had more than one. He’d been busy
working, helping his pa get this place established, and had been afraid that if he formed close relationships, his father would pack the family up and move them again. Still, he had some friends—and local acquaintances. “Where is your family?”
Annie bent her face toward the ground, but not before he noticed her wincing.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. She’d left her bonnet on the quilt where the girls slept, and her light-brown hair gleamed in the afternoon sun, looking almost blonde. “I have no family. My mother died when I was young, and—” her voice caught, and she turned her face away. “I don’t know where my father is—or if he’s even alive.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”
She glanced back and offered a timid smile. “Don’t feel bad. It was all a long time ago, and I don’t regret coming to Miss Laura’s school for one moment. It’s really the only home I’ve ever had.”
His brows pinched together. He couldn’t help wondering where she’d lived before coming to Waco, but he wouldn’t ask, knowing it bothered her to talk about her past. He stopped a few paces in front of his old home, and the muscles in his body tensed, as if he were headed into battle. He didn’t want to go in there again. To see his mother’s always tidy house in such disarray. But he needed to see what else there was of his past that he could salvage.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Morgan?”
Riley didn’t know what to say. How could he explain his hesitancy to go into his own home when he didn’t fully understand it himself? He was thankful that Annie couldn’t see what the Comanche had done. He grabbed one of the arrows sticking in the side of the house and rocked it back and forth until he could pull it free, then he bent the despised weapon, snapping it in two.
Annie’s head jerked toward him. “What was that?”
“Um … nothing much. Just an old stick I broke.” And it was—a potentially lethal stick.
“If it bothers you to have me here, I can go back.” She hiked her pert chin. “I don’t need any help.”
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