“I don’t care if he does. It’s obvious that he means to sell the place. Didn’t you notice how he was gawking at everything?” Annie flung her arms in the air then dropped them to her side so hard they made a loud flap. “And can you believe he had the nerve to ask for petit fours? What are those, anyway?”
“Little cakes.”
Annie snorted. “Oh sure. We have plenty of those lying around.” She opened the breadbox and pulled out several pieces of cornbread leftover from last night’s dinner, and placed them on a plate. “Too bad we don’t have a whole sack of sugar in the pantry so I could whip up some frosting for these.”
Annie’s sarcasm brought a smile to Laura’s lips. “Be nice.”
“I think I’ll go outside with the children. Even Mr. Morgan’s company is preferable to that horrible man’s.” She turned as if to leave.
Laura quickly set down the teapot and clawed at Annie’s sleeve. “Oh, no … no, you don’t. You’re not leaving me alone with him.”
Annie’s shoulders dropped. “I know. I wouldn’t do that even though I’d like to. Besides, I can’t wait to see his expression when he sees the cornbread.” Both women snickered.
“Just don’t let him notice you watching.” Laura poured the tea then placed the saucers and plate of cornbread onto the tray. She place a tiny amount of sugar in a bowl normally used for salt then carried the tray to the parlor.
Mr. Ramsey frowned and waved his handkerchief in front of his nose. “This place reeks of children.”
Laura set the tray down a bit harder than normal, rattling the teacups. The man was insufferable. How could he possibly be related to kindhearted Mr. Morrow? She handed her guest a teacup then gave one to Annie before taking her seat.
As expected, Mr. Ramsey turned up his nose at the cornbread. Laura wished she had something better to serve her guest, but with the lack of money and many food items in short supply because of the war, this was the best she could do on short notice. Her Southern-born mother would cringe if she were still alive.
Mr. Ramsey sniffed his tea and looked up at her.
“I apologize for not having coffee to serve, sir.”
His brow puckered. “It’s in short supply everywhere, but I had hoped for a cup.” He sipped the tea and winced then added several of the tiny spoonfuls of their precious sugar to his cup. He downed the whole cupful in one long drink then set the teacup down with a loud clink. “I should get to the point of my visit.” The man, far closer to her age than Annie’s, gave her a passing glance then gawked at Annie.
Laura cleared her throat, drawing his gaze back to her. She’d been trying hard to remember if she’d ever heard mention of him before. He must be the son of Mr. Morrow’s sister since he had a different last name than their kind benefactor.
He leaned forward in his chair and whispered. “Why won’t that girl look at me?”
Laura tightened her grip on the chair’s arms. “This is a school for the blind, you know.”
Disgust replaced his appreciative gaze. “You mean a pretty thing like her can’t see?” He shook his head. “What a waste.”
Laura coughed a warning at Annie as the girl scowled. “You do realize she isn’t deaf, sir?”
He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “As I mentioned in my letter, my uncle, Charles Morrow has died. As I am his heir, this property now belongs to me, quaint as it is. I do believe I’m being quite generous in allowing you thirty days to vacate.” He puffed up like her old rooster.
The mangy polecat only cared about himself and padding his pocket, not the welfare of innocent, misfortunate children. It truly irked Laura to ask anything of him, but for her students’ sake, she must. She scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned toward the miserable excuse of a man, holding out her hands. “Please, sir, I implore you to give us more time. I will need to contact the parents of the children who have families in the area and have them come for their children. It will take time to find someone to deliver the letters. I also need time to figure out what to do with the orphans who have no other place to go. Surely you can understand that thirty days isn’t nearly enough time.”
Mr. Ramsey glanced at the cornbread, pinched off a corner and tasted it, then he lifted the square, dropping crumbs all over himself and the settee. He shoved the whole piece into his mouth. After a few quick chews, he stared at her and shook his head. “I apologize, but I need to be finished with this whole affair as soon as possible. Thirty days is the most I can allow.” Crumbs flew through the air like a dandelion puff.
Laura bit back the unladylike scolding she was tempted to give him. She glanced at Annie, knowing the worrisome thoughts that were surely running rampant across the girl’s active mind. Neither of them had anywhere else to go. She stared at Mr. Ramsey and stood. “Please, sir, I beg you to reconsider. Couldn’t you give us at least six weeks? There aren’t many places suitable for us. We may even have to move to another town.”
Mr. Ramsey shook his head. “I can’t take that much time away from my business. I’m being generous as it is, since it’s within my power to take possession immediately. But I understand your need to find another place.”
Laura’s mind raced. There had to be something she could do. “What about selling it to me? May I inquire how much you want for it?”
“I will need to get the place appraised, but I doubt you’d be able to afford it.”
“I see. Well, forgive me for being rude, but we have our work cut out for us. I must start looking for a new location right away, so if you’ll be on your way, we’d appreciate it.”
His chin hiked, but he had the courtesy to rise. He started for the door, then turned back and snatched up the last two squares of cornbread and plodded outside, without so much as tipping his hat.
“What a horrible man.” Annie hauled back as if to slam the door.
“Please don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he upset us,” Laura begged.
Annie’s lips twisted up on one side but she shut the door only a little bit harder than usual. “Fine. But what are we going to do?”
Laura took her hands. “I honestly don’t know, sweetie.” She pulled the girl into a hug and held her tight, not at all liking the look of their future.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Annie trudged outside, her heart dragging along with her feet. She’d promised to help keep an eye on the children so Laura could run into town to see if they had any other options and Mrs. Alton could return to her kitchen and prepare their noon meal. The older woman only needed to fix enough food for the children and Mr. Morgan, because Annie was certain she and Laura would have no appetite.
As she rounded the far corner of the barn, she noted the boys on the horse Mr. Morgan was leading toward the back of the property. Since his back was to her, she quickly surveyed the serene scene. Mrs. Alton was sitting on the picnic quilt, rolling a rag ball to Lissa and Camilla. Becky and Tess were several paces away, tossing clothespins into a bucket.
“Ah, good. Annie’s back. You two young’uns play ball with each other.” Mrs. Alton pushed up from the quilt and stood there for a minute. “Oh, my. I’m getting far too old to be sitting on the ground.”
Annie smiled, albeit a bit melancholy, and walked over to the cook. “You’re not getting old.”
Mrs. Alton swatted her hand in the air. “Annie Sheffield, now don’t you go telling fibs.”
“Annie, I rided a horsie.” Camilla rose up on her knees, her face turned upward. “It was fun. Mi padre lets me ride his caballo—his horsie, but Mama, she does not like it.”
“Go and talk with the girls.” Mrs. Alton patted Annie’s shoulder. “I’ll head back and get lunch started.”
Annie nodded and dropped down onto the quilt beside Camilla. She caressed the girl’s dark hair. “And just what did you like about it so much?”
“We went fast,” Lissa said.
“Fast?” Annie’s gaze shot to where Mr. Morgan had reached the far fence and was turning to head back th
is way. “How fast?”
“Bouncy fast.” Camilla sprang up and down on her knees.
“And you weren’t scared?” Annie focused her irritation with Mr. Ramsey on Mr. Morgan instead. He had no business trotting the horse while the girls were riding.
“It’s all right, Annie.” Tess turned away from the bucket, holding a fistful of clothespins she’d just collected from the ground. “Mr. Morgan had the person in front hold on to the saddle horn, and he held on to the one riding in back. He made sure we didn’t fall. I like him.”
“Thank you, Tess. That makes me feel better knowing you weren’t in any danger.” She turned her gaze back to Riley Morgan. He was clean shaven this morning, and he was wearing the clothes that he’d found in the cellar. She liked seeing him in something other than his army pants. Scowling, she turned away. What should it matter what he wore or if he had shaved? He would soon be gone too. At least he had a home to return to—if he didn’t sell it.
She plopped down beside the younger girls on the quilt, folded her legs in an unladylike manner, and rested her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. Her world was turning upside down, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
How could that odious Mr. Ramsey be so selfish that he would turn out blind children? He mentioned having a home in St. Louis, and he must have also inherited Mr. Morrow’s home, which means he owned three houses. She shook her head, hardly able to comprehend such a thing. Did the man not have a heart? A conscience?
All the girls had family to return to, but what would happen to sweet Rusty and quiet Henry? Who would want to care for two blind orphan boys? Sure, they could help some family out, but they would never be able to do as many things as a boy who could see. And how would they continue their education? So many people were struggling to get by after supporting the war efforts and having difficulties getting their crops to market the past few years. And with the slaves set free, who would pick all the cotton grown in the area? Nobody would want to care for boys like Rusty and Henry.
Her heart ached, not just for herself but for them all. Change for their children came a lot harder than it did for other children. A fly landed on her hand, and she swatted it away. It buzzed her face, and she jerked back, waving her hand around her head.
“Are you all right?”
Annie froze. “I’m fine. A fly pestering me, is all.” She kept her back to him, but she heard him set Rusty on the ground. The saddle creaked as Henry climbed down. The pungent scent of horse wafted toward her. She wasn’t fond of the smell of cattle and sheep, but for some reason, the smell of horses never bothered her.
“I rode Mr. Morgan’s horse, Miss Annie. Could you hear me?”
Annie smiled. “Yes, Rusty, I always hear you.”
The boy grinned so wide his freckles almost sparkled. He trotted over to Tess. “I rode Gypsy. I was way up high.”
“We rode her first,” Becky said.
Henry followed the younger boy, but had a proud look on his face that Annie rarely saw there.
“It’s your turn now,” Mr. Morgan said.
Rusty spun around and hurried back. “Can I have another ride? Huh, Mr. Morgan? That Gypsy is the finest horse I ever rode.”
Mr. Morgan tousled the boy’s hair. “You’re right. She’s a good horse. But as for the ride, it’s Miss Sheffield’s turn.” He took hold of Rusty’s hand and guided him to the quilt. “Have a seat, and you can continue your game of ball with the girls.”
Annie jerked her head in his direction, his words just soaking into her mind. “My turn?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have orders from the boss lady to see that you get a ride, too.” He bent down and claimed her hand. “C’mon along.”
Though she had no plans to climb aboard his horse, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. It wouldn’t do for the children to think she was afraid. Right off, she noticed Mr. Morgan’s fresh scent. Had he actually bathed in the middle of the week? Her cheeks warmed at such a thought.
“It’s perfectly safe, I assure you.”
Annie could hear the humor in his voice. Did he think she was frightened? “It’s not that. I can’t leave the children alone.”
“They’re not alone.” He tugged her hand, and she allowed him to lead her off the quilt. “We won’t go far, and I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, go on, Miss Annie.” Tess smiled. “It’s a lot of fun.”
“And you feel so high up,” Becky said.
Annie dipped her head, focusing on her hand resting in Riley’s. Highly inappropriate, but she rather enjoyed the feel of his hand wrapped around hers.
“But you’d better hold on to the saddle horn or Mr. Morgan will hold your leg.” Lissa rolled the ball to Camilla, unaware of how her words affected Annie.
The thought of a man holding her leg, even through the padding of her skirt and petticoats, made blood rush to her cheeks.
Mr. Morgan leaned in toward her ear, chuckling. “Have no fear. You’re perfectly safe with me. I won’t let you fall off.”
Even though she believed him, she longed to look into his eyes, to see his assurance. He’d proven to be gentle with the children and he treated the women with respect, but why was he teasing? Had he sensed her embarrassment?
Turning toward the horse, she reached out her hand and walked forward until she touched Gypsy’s side. The mare’s skin quivered, and she turned her head back to look at Annie. Could the horse tell she was nervous? The few times she had ridden, she had always sat in front of or behind her daddy—on a stolen horse.
She was tempted to go ahead and take Mr. Morgan up on his offer, but what about her skirts? Would they cover her legs properly? This was one time she wouldn’t mind donning her old trousers. She lifted her hands to her cheeks at the thought of Riley Morgan seeing her in men’s pants. She could feel herself blush. It was something she hardly ever did.
“If you’re ready, I can lift you up. You could sit sideways in the saddle, if you would prefer.”
“That would be the wise thing, I suppose. You promise to keep an eye on the children?” Not that she wouldn’t do so herself.
“I promise. Now, turn around, please.”
She did as requested, and her heart caught in her throat. He stood so close that if she even hardly moved she would touch him.
He took hold of her wrists and lifted them. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She paused a moment then did as bid. His shoulders were so solid—broad—not at all like her slight ones. His hands wrapped around her waist, and she shot up into the air like a cannonball. A squeal slipped out, but in the next instant, she was plopped onto the saddle. If her hips had been any wider, she would not have been able to sit sideways, but it wasn’t altogether uncomfortable. She grasped hold of the saddle horn on her right and the back of the saddle with her other hand and held her breath. If she fell, it certainly was a long way down. Clenching her teeth, she scolded herself. She never used to worry about such things when she lived on the streets.
Mr. Morgan held out his hand as if to catch her if she fell. His eyes gazed up at her, his face tan from the many hours he spent outside as a soldier. She could even see his long, dark lashes, as she made a passing glance. The hollowness in his cheeks was disappearing, and he was beginning to look healthier, thanks to their cook’s wholesome meals. “Are you settled, Miss Sheffield?”
She was anything but settled. She slowly took a deep breath and nodded. The light breeze tickled her sweaty neck, and her heart pounded. Being nervous wasn’t a feeling she’d experienced for a long while—and she didn’t like it. But riding the horse was fun, as Tess had said, although she would prefer riding astride. Too bad that was socially unacceptable for a woman.
He walked her around the field three times, and she marveled at his patience. How many times had he gone in the same circle, escorting the children on their rides? The grass was smashed down and a trail was forming already. She peeked at the children, glad to see they were all keeping bus
y with their games.
Tears pricked her eyes at the thought of being separated from them. Of never seeing them again. They were her family. She would miss them far more than they would ever miss her.
“You’re awful quiet today. Got something on your mind?” He peered back over his shoulder.
He had no idea. And she sure wasn’t going to divulge any information. “I suppose I do.”
“Whoa, girl.” He pulled the horse to a stop beside the children, dropped the reins, then held up his arms to her.
Annie released her tight grip on the saddle horn and placed her hands in her lap, pretending that she hadn’t seen his. The thought that he would hate her if he ever learned the truth of how she had deceived him ate at her nearly as much as the prospect of the school closing down.
He cleared his throat. “Uh … I can help you down now, if you’ll hold out your hands.”
She complied, and he stepped close, his chest bumping the toes of her shoes. He took her hands and guided them to his shoulders. His breath caressed her cheeks, making her breath catch in her throat. His hands connected with her waist, and he lifted her down to the ground as if it were no effort at all. His hands remained at her sides for a moment longer than proper, and she ached to glance up and read his eyes, but didn’t. Maybe he was just waiting to see if she lost her balance.
For all practical purposes, they were alone. The children could hear them, but it was obvious they were engaged in their own activities and paying them no mind. “I … um … thank you, Mr. Morgan, for that ride on your horse. I actually enjoyed it.”
He stepped back and nodded. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out and smacked him on the arm. “I told you not to call me ma’am. My name is Annie. Just call me that.”
“It would be my pleasure, Miss Annie.”
“Just plain Annie is fine.” She tilted her head up high enough to see the lower half of his face.
“Then you must call me Riley—or Raleigh—if you’d rather. It’s my actual Christian name.”
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