As she entered the peaceful town, she drew to the far side of the road and slowed her pace, going from hitching post to hitching post, keeping one hand touching the rough wood, in case anyone was watching. It seem that everyone was taking an afternoon siesta from the hot summer sun. Several businesses had their doors open, and not a single person stood out on the boardwalk talking. There was just one horse—a black with four white stockings—tethered straight ahead in front of the bathhouse.
Turning, she hurried down a side street until she reached the town square. The empty area looked so different from when it had been filled with people. A layer of dust coated the many wooden benches sitting in haphazard rows. Hmmm. Where could the minister be? Keeping her eyes trained on the courthouse, she felt her way along the benches and she meandered to the front, sitting down in the shade of a pecan tree. The minister wasn’t there, but she could still sense God’s presence.
“Lord, what should I do? Should I tell everyone the truth—that I faked being blind—and have them hate me, or make things easy on myself and the children, and just go away and start over someplace new?”
The idea of leaving Waco left her shivering in spite of the heat. This place had become her haven of rescue. The only place she’d ever had true friends. And yet, she stood to lose them if they knew the truth. There was no easy answer.
“Well, howdy, miss.” Reverend James strolled across the square, holding something in one hand. He touched the tip of his hat in greeting, his wide smile chasing away any apprehension Annie had about coming to see him. She guessed the man to be in his late forties, probably about the same age as her daddy, if he was still alive.
“Good afternoon, Reverend.” Annie stood. “I was wondering if I could speak to you about something.”
He glanced around. “I reckon so.” He set down the plate that covered what Annie guessed was a slice of pie then pulled another bench over a respectable distance in front of hers. He held out his hand. “Please—Miss Sheffleld, isn’t it?”
Annie nodded.
“Have a seat, miss.”
Annie obliged and straightened her skirts before looking up. “Please don’t let me keep you from eating.”
He glanced at his plate then his puzzled gaze shot back to hers. “How did you know I had something to eat?”
She ducked her head, uncomfortable with his stare. “Well, I smell something sweet, and it thumped when you set it down.”
“Ah, of course.” He visibly relaxed.
He so easily believed her deception, and tricking him made her feel as low as a wagon without wheels. Tears filled Annie’s eyes, and the years of lying and deception overcame her.
The reverend leaned toward her. “What’s the matter, child? Are you doubting your conversion?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It isn’t that, Reverend. I know I’m different, I can tell, but … but … I’ve—” She shook her head, unable to voice the hideous words. She couldn’t bear to see the grimace of disgust that would surely form on his face when he learned the truth.
He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. “I know it can be difficult to speak of some things, and if you’d prefer to confide in a woman, I’m sure I could find one who would be happy to listen.” He sat up and looked around, but not seeing a woman he thought might help, resumed his position. “Or, if you’re comfortable, I’m a good listener. Baring one’s soul can make a person feel better. Freer.”
She had to tell him, but she hadn’t expected confessing to be so hard. She steadied herself and took a deep breath. Long ago, she’d learned that if you had something unpleasant to do, it was best to do it quickly and get it over with. Glancing up, she dared to look into his eyes. “I’ve been living a lie for the past seven years, sir, and before that, I was a thief.”
His brow crinkled, as if he were struggling with a thought. A faint, indulgent smile twittered on his lips. “Everyone lies at one time or another, even me, although I try very hard not to.”
“But I bet you’ve never stolen anything.”
He looked off to his left, staring across the square. “Not since I was a child, and my father took a switch to my hind end and made me return the items to the mercantile.” He grinned. “I had to work a week to repay ol’ Mr. Thatch, even though I only snitched a few lemon drops. But I learned my lesson.”
Annie twisted her hands. She’d known stealing was wrong, but the only consequences she’d faced, other than having to outrun the person she’d robbed, were those she suffered when she returned empty-handed. If her father had found a place to sleep inside, he would make her stay out in the cold or the rain and go without dinner. She learned to steal to survive, but she’d never liked it. If only she could pay back all those people, but their money and their valuables were long gone—all except for the one watch she’d buried.
“When you repented of your sins last night, God forgave them, Miss Sheffield. He takes a dirty vessel—us—and when we repent, He washes us clean by the blood of His Son, Jesus, who died on the cross to set us free. Do you understand?” His kind eyes gazed upon her face, as if begging her to believe him.
She nodded. “Yes, but what if I’ve sinned today?”
He smiled. “We all sin every day, whether in a lustful thought, or gossiping, or hating a neighbor whose cow destroyed part of our garden. We’re human, and humans sin. Just continue to ask God’s forgiveness.”
She took a deep breath. It sounded so simple. “But what if everyone believes a lie about you? How do I go about fixing that?” She stared into his eyes and didn’t look away. It had been so long since she’d done that with anyone but Miss Laura and Mrs. Alton that she squirmed on the bench.
The minister stared at her for a long moment then his brows lifted. “You can see?”
Annie broke his gaze and stared at the grass smashed down from yesterday’s crowd. She nodded.
“Praise the Lord.”
Her gaze jerked up. What an odd reaction.
“I felt so bad that you couldn’t see after talking with you, that I prayed half the night for a miracle for you, now we have it. You’re such a young, pret—uh, never mind.” He lifted his head toward heaven, as if praying. “I see your dilemma. Everyone in this town thinks you’re blind?”
She nodded. “Everyone, that is, except Miss Laura and Mrs. Alton, our cook. You see, I was just thirteen years old when my father abandoned me in Waco.” Even after so long, saying the words pricked her heart. A wagon pulled by two bays drove down the street with a thin man guiding them. “After three days, I was starving and filthy. I found the Wilcox School for Blind Children, and Miss Laura didn’t have the heart to turn me out, even though she knew I was just pretending to be blind.” Her eyes stung again. “You see, I’d never had a home before. Hadn’t worn a dress, been clean, or had a full stomach in years. Everything I wanted was at that school—but I wasn’t blind. And Mr. Morrow insisted that only blind children could live there.”
The reverend sat back, hands in his lap. “That is quite a quandary.”
“I know. For a long while I’ve wanted to end the charade, but I didn’t want Miss Laura to get into trouble. And what will the children think?” She blinked her eyes and wiped her cheek when a tear trickled down. “I don’t want them to hate me. I—I couldn’t bear it.”
“They won’t.” He shook his head. “Children are sympathetic and resilient. Once they learn why you did what you did, well, I think you’ll be surprised. Most will probably be happy that you aren’t blind.”
His words soothed her worry. “But what about the townsfolk?”
“Well, you’ll face a harder road there. Adults are far less forgiving than young’uns. Still, I think you need to come clean, for your own sake. You won’t have peace in your heart as long as you continue to deceive people.”
Annie watched a blue jay soar toward them then land on the stage. She’d always admired the pretty birds even though they often bullied smaller
creatures.
He caught her gaze. “What about that young man who escorted you last night? Does he know the truth?”
She nibbled her lower lip and shook her head. “No, and I have no idea how to tell him. He’ll hate me for deceiving him.”
“I’m sorry I don’t know the man, but if he cares for you as I suspect he does, once he gets over the shock, I imagine he’ll be delighted.”
“Why?” Annie couldn’t hide her surprise at his comment.
The man smiled. “What if you learned one of those children you love so much wasn’t really blind? Wouldn’t you be happy for them?”
“Of course, but this is different. I’ve tried very hard not to lie to him, but I’ve still had to pretend not to see when I’ve been around Riley.” She shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll hate me for tricking him.”
“Then he doesn’t care about you as much as I think he does.”
She stared into his eyes and saw nothing but seriousness there. Dare she hope he could be right?
“Now, how do you intend to tell the town? Would you like to come up front tonight and get it over with all at once?”
Annie gasped and shook her head. “No. No, I’m not ready yet. And I feel I need to tell the children—and Riley—first.”
The reverend’s moustache wiggled while he worked his mouth, thinking. He nodded. “That would be the wise thing. I’ll be here tomorrow night also. If you’re ready by then, just let me know. I’m happy to stand up beside you and offer my support.”
Annie smiled. “Thank you, Reverend James. I appreciate your offer, but I do hope you won’t be disappointed if I need more time to prepare myself.”
“Not at all. I’ll keep you in my prayers. God will tell you when the time is right, as you continue to seek Him.”
She stood, feeling better. If she didn’t get back soon, she’d be missed. “I’m much obliged to you, sir. Your visit has changed my life.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your telling me.” He smiled. “See you tonight?”
Annie nodded, her burden feeling lighter than it had in a long time.
“I’ll be praying for you—and your young man.”
She opened her mouth to explain that Riley was just a friend, but decided she rather liked the idea of him as her young man. She smiled. “Thank you.”
A few people were around—a couple strolling on the west side of the square, the man who drove the wagon had stopped in front of the feed store, and two children played tag up the street. Annie really needed to hurry before someone she knew stopped her or Riley came looking. It would be hard to explain being in town alone.
Taking a shortcut, she dodged down an alley, quickening her pace as she all but ran past the rear of a saloon. Empty bottles dried on the back porch, awaiting refilling. The place reeked like an outhouse, and she didn’t stop to consider why. Two buildings down sat another saloon, an even more dilapidated one. Something flapping out an upstairs window drew her attention, and she glanced up. Her mouth dropped open. Waving like a flag was a frilly, red corset. All she could do was stare. She didn’t even know they came in red—with black lace.
As she started to cross an alley, she noticed two men standing in the front of the alley, next to the saloon. She ducked back, and peeked around the corner, holding her breath and hoping they hadn’t seen her. She shuddered, realizing how precarious a position she was in. If a man were to discover her alone, hiding behind a saloon—fingers of fear clawed their way down her spine. Protect me, Father, please.
She weighed her options. Run across the alley and hope they didn’t see her? Wait until they left and hope someone didn’t come out of the saloon and find her? But she needed to get back as soon as possible. Laura would worry if she went looking and couldn’t find her, especially since she hadn’t left a note. Peering around the corner again, her breath lodged in her throat, as if she’d sucked a piece of food down her windpipe. One of the men was the odious Otis Ramsey.
Why was Ramsey still in town? She thought he had slithered back to wherever he’d come from by now. She couldn’t let him of all people find her in town alone. The way he’d looked at her back at the school made her want to run to the Brazos, jump in, and scrub herself clean. Looking back the way she’d come, she contemplated making a wide arc, doubling back, and then going the long way home, but that would take more time, and she would surely run into people who knew her.
Mr. Ramsey bellowed a laugh. “It won’t be long before that property is mine, as it rightfully should be. I sure outsmarted those dimwitted females.”
Annie silenced her gasp with a hand over her mouth. The hair on her arms stood on end. Was he talking about her and Laura, or some other women? Fred Barker, the man talking to Mr. Ramsey, was known around town as a troublemaker. Annie’s curiosity soared. Why would Ramsey be talking to him?
Turning away from the saloon, Mr. Ramsey stepped up onto the boardwalk. He muttered something about a buyer then disappeared from her view. Mr. Barker turned her way. She gulped and shrank back, plastering herself against the wall of the saloon. Rank smells rose up around her, and through the wall, she heard a deep laugh. The man’s footsteps grew closer.
Annie’s gaze darted left and right, but there was no place to hide. She slid toward the back door of the saloon, a door propped open with a small barrel, holding sand and cigar stubs. Without taking time to think what she was doing, she dashed inside, and placed her hand over her pounding heart. Please don’t let him come in here.
Just to her right was a closed door, and behind it the person who’d been laughing. She could hear the shuffle of feet from inside the room. If anyone opened that door, she’d be found. Across the entryway was a room with a lock on the door—the liquor room, she surmised. Sweat trickled down her back, and she felt as if insects were crawling up and down her arms, and she rubbed them. She never dreamed she’d ever be in a saloon. If she wasn’t so nervous about what could happen and wasn’t so pressed for time, she just might tiptoe to the front and see what the inside of a saloon actually looked like. But even though Mrs. Alton wasn’t there, Annie could hear her scolding. “Girl, have you taken leave of your sense?”
Peering out the door, Annie released her breath. If Mr. Barker was coming in the back entrance of the saloon, he would have been there by now.
With no one in sight, she rushed out the door and quickened her pace as she passed a pair of rickety privies. Something thudded against the side of one, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. A loud keening rose up. Annie skidded to a stop. Had someone locked up a dog? Other than mistreating children, the thing she despised most was people mistreating animals. Besides the foul stench, a privy was dreadfully hot on a day like today, even one with so many cracks in it. “Anybody there?” She waited a moment and glanced around, reached for the door, then gave it a yank. It stuck.
The whimpering inside silenced, as if the creature was holding its breath, awaiting escape.
With two hands on the handle and one foot braced again the doorframe, she wrenched the door open on a loud creak. Her fingers flew to her mouth, as she stared inside, unable to believe what she saw.
A small, filthy child let out a screech and cowered down, looking at her with wide blue eyes.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As you can see, the land is good and fertile, but the house needs some work,” Riley said to the land agent as they walked around the house he’d grown up in. For the ninetieth time, he wondered if he was doing the right thing in selling the place. A shaft of sunlight reflected off a piece of broken glass, making him squint. He should have returned home, picked up all the shards, and fixed the place up like he’d planned, but something kept holding him back.
“It does need some work, but at least it’s not a sod house or a dugout. Whoever buys the place won’t have to build from scratch. That’s generally a plus.” Mr. Johnson pushed on the side wall. “The chinking needs patching, but the wood is sturdy, and the windows need to be replaced. ’Course, there are st
ill plenty of people who prefer not to have glass in their windows since it’s expensive and breaks easily and it blocks the flow of air. That’s an important thing to consider here where it gets so hot.”
Riley nodded, remembering the day his pa had surprised his ma with the new glass. She’d been prouder than a hen that had laid her first egg. The first few days after his pa had put in the windows, she’d insisted on keeping them shut—to keep the dust out. He grinned. The temperature in the house had risen so high by evening supper, they’d all been nearly as roasted as the prairie chickens they’d eaten. His pa had grumbled about returning the windows and had taken his plate outside to finish eating where it was cooler.
“I doubt I’ll have any trouble selling your property, Mr. Morgan.”
Riley wasn’t sure if that was good news or not. “With the war just being over and people so strapped for cash—not to mention what happened here—well … I figured it might take a while to sell the ranch.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “Things with the Indians are settling down and will even more with all our men coming back, and that’s true about cash being tight. But there are many folks leaving the South and coming to Texas where the war was kinder. And they’re not all poor folks.” The land agent rubbed his index finger over his thin mustache. “I feel certain I can get the price we discussed and maybe even more.”
Nodding, Riley scanned the familiar dips in the land, the trees, and the picket enclosure up on the hill. He felt like a traitor selling off the land his father had loved and the house his ma had made into a home, but he needed a fresh start. He needed a place where the memories didn’t haunt him, and if he got the price he was asking, he could do just that. Start over somewhere else.
“Mind if I go inside?” Mr. Johnson asked.
“No, go ahead and have a look around, though things are still a bit of a mess. I’ll just walk up the hill until you’re done.”
Long Trail Home Page 17
