Concerned, he cupped his hand over hers. “Libby, what’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, she spun away from him and faced the campus. “I changed my mind. I . . . I don’t think I could eat a bite. I’m going to take a walk instead.” She started off in a determined gait, her arms pumping.
“Wait!” Pete trotted after her, hopping twice on his good leg for every one time on his peg leg. Even after years of using the wooden replacement for flesh and bone, it still jolted his hip when he moved too fast. He grimaced, but he caught up to her. Taking hold of her arm, he brought her to a halt. “What’s the matter? Tell me.” Over the years, he’d been privy to her secrets, her worries, her frustrations. He waited expectantly for a reply. But to his surprise, she turned stubborn.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to take a walk. Go eat.” She gave him a little push. “Bennett’s probably holding a spot for you. So go on.”
Even though his stomach murmured in desire, Pete shook his head. “Nah. You know when Bennett’s got food in front of him, nothing else matters. He won’t even miss me. I’ll walk with you instead.”
She pursed her lips, and for a moment Pete thought she’d send him away. But then she released another little huff. “Very well. Let’s go. That way.” Arms folded over her ribs and head low, Libby moved in the opposite direction of the path Jackson and Maelle had taken earlier. Occasionally, she kicked at a stone. Her movements seemed jerky, almost uncontrolled, so different from her usual grace. Although Pete wondered what had her in such a dither, he didn’t ask. He’d learned sometimes it was best to let Libby stew. Eventually, she’d let the steam out and he’d know what was wrong.
They walked down a tree-lined path that ended in a field of uncut grass dotted with patches of wild flowers. She stopped and looked right and left, as if deciding which way to go. He waited patiently for her to make up her mind, refusing to fidget even though standing still intensified the ache in his hip. Whichever direction she chose, he’d follow.
Her brow puckered, and she tipped her head, frowning. “What is that?” She moved forward, her feet crushing the foot-high grass. Pete followed, his gaze on the shining locks of black hair that flowed almost to her waist. She stopped so suddenly he almost collided with her.
She clasped her hands beneath her chin and released a delighted laugh. “We found it!”
He glanced around, noting nothing of significance. “What did we find?”
“The foundation.” Libby skipped forward and then crouched, skimming her hand over a rough rock wall only inches high. The free-growing grass and abundance of wild flowers had masked it from view. Pete propped his hands on his thighs and examined the gray weather-worn stones that formed a large rectangle.
“Remember what Mrs. Rowley said?” Libby’s voice held excitement. “The original academic building burned to the ground in the late 1870s, and they chose to build a new one closer to the road rather than rebuild on the old foundation.” Her gaze followed the line of the stones, her full lips forming a soft smile of wonder. “But it’s still here, hunkering down low like a secret fortress for chipmunks or squirrels.” Her voice took on a whimsical quality, and Petey knew she was drifting into one of her make-believe worlds.
With a little giggle, she stepped onto the foundation and extended her arms. Pete automatically caught one of her hands, and her dimples flashed with her smile. Holding the tips of his fingers, she put one foot in front of the other and walked the length of the little wall, her chin high and expression serious. Watching her, Pete couldn’t help smiling. Libby had a way of making ordinary moments seem special.
She reached the corner and leapt off, landing in an exaggerated curtsy. She laughed, then spun to face the foundation again. Sobering, she tapped her chin with one finger. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it, to think of such a grand building all burnt up and gone, only these few stones remaining? I wish I could have seen it when it was still here.” Her gaze lifted slowly upward, and Petey knew she was trying to picture the building in her mind. He remained silent, allowing her the moments of silent introspection. When she’d had her fill of whimsy, she’d move on, and he’d tag along. Like always.
After several long seconds, she released a deep sigh and turned to face the opposite direction. Her eyes flew wide, and she let out a gasp. “Petey!” She ran to the opening between the trees.
“What?” He limped up beside her and peered into her astonished face.
“Oh . . . look.” She pointed down the lane they’d taken. Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere. “The trees, the way they form a canopy over the walkway. See how the sun sneaks between the leaves and dapples the path? Why, it’s simply laden with splashes of sunshine and shadow. How enchanting!” She laughed, clapping her hands once. “Doesn’t it look like a fairy road?”
Pete tapped his peg leg against the ground, his means of battling the feeling of numbness in his missing limb. “A fairy road?”
She bopped his shoulder, just the way she had when they were younger and he irritated her. But she grinned at him. “Don’t make fun.”
He held up both hands. “I’m not making fun. You’re right. It’s . . . enchanting.” But he kept his eyes glued to her face. Fingers of sunlight crept through the tree branches overhead, bringing a sheen to her dark hair and making her eyes shimmer. At least the tears had disappeared from her eyes.
He frowned. “Libby? You were ready to cry earlier. Why?”
The delight immediately faded from her expression. “I don’t cry.”
“I know you don’t. That’s why you have me worried.”
She gave him a puzzled look “You really worry about me?”
He shrugged. “Sure I do. We’re . . . we’re friends, aren’t we?” Lately, he’d found it hard to be just friends with Libby. A part of him—the larger part, he realized—longed to protect her, to shower her with little gifts and words of devotion, to tell her he thought she was the most intriguing female God had ever placed on the earth. But he held those words inside. Libby was so independent, with such lofty plans for success. He couldn’t begin to compete with her dreams of traveling to big cities and writing stories that would capture the attention of a major newspaper publisher. He’d been saved to serve God. Why should she give up the chance for accolades to become the wife of a one-legged minister?
She placed her hand on his sleeve. “You don’t need to worry about me. I had a momentary attack of melancholy. I wasn’t ready for Maelle to leave.” Her chin quivered briefly, but she set her jaw, and her brown eyes snapped with determination. “I’m fine now, as you can see, and we should probably return to our dormitories. Being late for curfew our very first day on campus won’t bode well with the teachers.”
Pete held out his elbow. With a little giggle, Libby caught hold, and he escorted her down the tree-lined walkway back toward the main part of campus. They walked in silence, which didn’t bother Pete. Unlike many of the other girls at the orphans’ school, Libby didn’t seem to need to chatter constantly to be happy. He appreciated that about her. A fellow could just be and not worry about impressing her.
He swallowed a chuckle when he thought about how he’d once viewed her as just one of the boys. Isabelle Rowley, the most prim and proper woman he knew, had never allowed Libby to don boy’s trousers, no matter how often she begged. But even wearing a dress, and even carrying a grace no boy could master, Libby had never seemed girlish. Her thick black braids flying, she’d kept up step-for-step in races, climbed just as high in trees, and nailed her target in mumblety-peg with amazing accuracy.
And then one day, shortly after their sixteenth birthdays, he’d looked at her and realized she was beautiful. He’d told her so, too. His arm had ached for two days where she’d punched him. He wouldn’t tell her again. But she couldn’t keep him from thinking it.
“Well, look at this, Claude. We’ve caught us a couple of lovebirds.”
Pete instinctively tucked his arm hard to his side, trapping Libby’s hand between his
elbow and ribcage. He hoped the pressure would keep her silent. Two young men swaggered toward them, cocky grins on their faces. Pete knew they were college students by their matching fraternity jackets. His stomach tightened in apprehension. Jackson had warned him about freshman hazing. He had no plans to join a fraternity, so he’d hoped to avoid the tradition, but he surmised from the looks on the men’s faces that they were determined to make sport with him.
The pair stopped directly in Pete’s path, fists on hips and feet widespread, trapping him and Libby in place. “So am I right?” the taller of the pair drawled. “Are you two lovebirds?”
Libby bristled. “Certainly not! We’re—”
Pete jerked his arm, and to his relief she hushed. “I’m escorting Miss Conley to her dormitory so she doesn’t miss curfew. If you’ll excuse us.”
“Miss Conley, huh?” The one who’d done the talking so far stepped forward, leaning close to Libby. She pressed her cheek to Pete’s shoulder, puckering her face in distaste. The man laughed and slapped his leg. “You’ve got time yet for curfew. I’d like to get a better look at this little darlin’. She’s quite the looker, huh, Claude?”
“That she is, Roy.” Claude waggled his eyebrows, leering at Libby. “I like a girl with some color in her face. And all that loose black hair. Reminds me of the picture on a calendar my pop had hidden in the back of his workshop where Ma wouldn’t see.”
Fury rose from Pete’s gut at the man’s brazenness. Upper classmen or not, they had no right to insult Libby. “Gentlemen,” Pete said through clenched teeth, “you’ve had your fun. Now let us pass.”
“Oh, our fun’s just beginning, sonny boy.” The one named Roy gave Pete’s shoulder a smack with the butt of his hand.
Pete planted his peg leg and managed to keep his balance despite the other’s man’s rough treatment.
“You’re new, aren’tcha?”
With a quick glance at Libby, Pete offered a hesitant nod.
“Thought so. That means we’ve got seniority. And that means you’ve gotta do what we say. Huh, Claude?”
Claude grinned. “That’s right, Roy.”
“So for starters . . .” Roy took a menacing step forward, stopping mere inches in front of Pete. “Let go of this sweet little thing’s hand.”
Libby sucked in a sharp breath. Pete shook his head. “No, sir.”
Roy’s thick eyebrows rose. “Did you say no to me?”
Lord, help me. I don’t want this to turn ugly. Libby could be hurt. Pete sucked in a lungful of air and looked directly into the face of his tormenter. “Yes, I did. I’m not going to release my friend’s hand, and I’m not going to allow you to harass her any further. Now, step aside and let us pass.”
Roy stared at Pete in open-mouthed amazement before hooting in laughter. He grabbed Claude’s arm and shook it. “Did you hear him, Claude? The pretty boy here just said he wouldn’t allow me to bother his little lovebird.” The laughter ended, and Roy’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m curious, pretty boy, how you plan to keep me from bothering her?”
Aaron Rowley, Pete’s foster father for most of his life, had taught him to use his head instead of his fists in disagreements. Aaron’s advice made sense—violence rarely provided a permanent solution; and with his peg leg, Pete had the disadvantage in any physical altercation. So he’d followed Aaron’s instruction. But from the look on Roy’s face, Pete sensed talking wouldn’t diffuse this situation. To rid himself of this man’s company, he’d have to use his fists. He took hold of Libby’s shoulders and set her aside.
Her eyes grew huge as realization dawned. “Petey, no!”
“Petey?” Roy blasted another laugh. “Oh, Claude, did’ja hear that? His name is Petey!”
Libby whirled on the men. “You stop laughing at him!” She plunked her fists on her hips, and fire sparked from her eyes. Pete cringed, recognizing the signs of Libby gearing up for a fight.
“Oh, how brave you are—two against one,” she continued. “But look at him standing up to you! He’s twice the man either of you are!” Her face blazed red with indignation, and her volume increased with the color in her face. Other students, milling outside the dining hall, turned in their direction.
Pete sent Libby a pleading look, but she waved her fists. “You get away! How dare you attack a woman and a crippled man!”
Shame washed over Pete. She thought of him as crippled? “Libby, enough.”
But she cupped her hands beside her mouth and yelled to the approaching students. “Everyone look at the big men! Harassing a woman and a man with a peg leg. Will any of you stand up to them?”
Suddenly one man broke free of the crowd and charged across the grounds. Pete groaned when he recognized Bennett’s fiery red hair. Hadn’t he been humiliated enough by Libby’s shouts? Now his childhood buddy had to come rescue him?
“Bennett, stay out of this,” Pete growled as soon as Bennett reached them.
But Bennett grinned. “Don’t you worry, Pete. I’ll take ’em down a notch or two. I got no bum leg holdin’ me back.” Bennett raised his fists and went into a fighter’s crouch. “All right, fellas, all I ask is you come at me one at a time. That’s only fair, right?”
“Sure, that’s fair,” Roy agreed, waving his arm. A half dozen young men, all attired in dark blue jackets with a gold emblem on the left shoulder, trotted across the lawn and joined Roy and Claude. “We’ll even let you decide which one of us you want to take first.”
Bennett rubbed his thumb on the side of his nose and swept his gaze across the circle of men. Before he could point at any of them as his first contender, Pete jolted forward.
“This is ridiculous!” On his second step, Pete’s peg leg slid in the grass. He flailed.
Bennett caught Pete’s arm, preventing him from falling. “Get back, buddy. I’ll handle this.”
“But it isn’t necessary.” Pete grabbed for Bennett’s elbow, but his friend danced sideways, evading his grasp.
Bennett rotated his fists, drawing small circles in the air. “Come on. I’m ready. Who wants to start?”
The crowd grew, made up of men and women both. By their curious gawks and eager grins, it appeared all were keen to witness a melee. Pete looked around in frustration. Wasn’t it enough that the newspaper headlines were filled with stories about the war waging in Europe? There was no need for a scrape right here on the University of Southern Missouri campus.
“Bennett, stop showing off. Let me handle this on my own.” Pete managed to grab Bennett’s arm, but his friend shook loose.
“I can take ’em.” Bennett’s narrowed eyes bounced from one adversary to another. “Just get out of my way.”
Two of Roy’s friends tugged off their jackets and stomped up to within a few feet of Bennett. One pointed at Pete. “Let’s go.”
Bennett bolted upright. “Wait a minute. Pete’s not fighting.”
“He started it,” Roy called from the sidelines, “so he’s gonna help finish it.”
The man who’d pointed at Pete advanced.
Libby flew across the grass and flung herself in front of Pete. “Don’t you dare touch him!”
The man came to a startled halt. Laughter broke out across the crowd.
Pete groaned. Less than an hour ago, Jackson had chided him to keep Libby from mischief. And look at what he’d done—inspired a riot with her at the very center. He curled his hand over her shoulder. “Libby, please . . .”
“No!” She batted his hand away, her hair swinging wildly around her face. She held her arms out and blocked Pete with her body. “If you think you have to fight someone, you’re going to have to fight me.”
The man looked past Libby to Pete. Disdain curled his lips. “You’re gonna let this girl fight your battle for you?”
“No.” Pete grabbed Libby around the waist and lifted her. She squawked, slapping at his hands. Pain shot from his stump to his hip, and it took every ounce of effort he possessed to keep his footing, but to his relief he remaine
d upright and set her aside.
But the moment he released her, she darted back in front of him. She shot him a furious look before whirling on the other man. “If you want to fight, you’ll fight me. You won’t lay a finger on Petey.”
Pete wished the ground would rise up and swallow him whole.
CHAPTER THREE
Bennett eyed the tall, curly-haired man at the front of the crowd. Arms folded over his chest, laughing. He was enjoying Libby’s exhibition. Good ol’ Lib, always in the middle of a fracas. Her antics were buying him the time he needed to size up the situation.
Running wild on the streets of Shay’s Ford, Missouri, he’d learned a thing or two about survival, and one of the most important lessons was recognizing the leader of packs. All Bennett had to do was take down the leader, and the pack would scatter. Worked every time.
“Hey! You there!” Bennett took one step toward the curly-haired man laughing at Libby.
The man swung his face in Bennett’s direction, his smile changing to a sneer.
Bennett bounced, his knees loose. “You said I could choose who I wanted to fight first, right?” Bennett aimed his trigger finger directly at the man’s nose. “I choose you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pete whisk Libby away from the action. Good. Now he’d be able to focus on his target instead of worrying about one of his pals getting hurt.
Bennett crouched again, his fists ready. “So c’mon.”
For a moment, the man looked uncertain. Bennett didn’t bother to hide his smirk. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to see the bully turn and run now that he’d been confronted. But then the man yanked off his coat. He handed it to one of his friends and began rolling up his sleeves with slow, deliberate movements. His buddies shouted encouragement.
Elation zinged through Bennett’s frame, powerful as a lightning bolt. So the man would fight! Besting him would be even better than seeing him run. Bennett danced in place, waiting for the taller man to finish readying himself. “C’mon, man, hurry up. You’re as slow as my grandmaw.” Bennett didn’t even know his grandmother, but the taunt hit its mark.
Kim Sawyer Page 2
