“And just how much do children go for these days, Mr. Jenkins?”
“Tarah!” Anthony grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He eyed Jenkins. “Are you seriously suggesting we buy your children from you?”
“Iffen ya want ’em, I expect to be paid fair and square.”
Anthony’s voice rose considerably. “Laney and Ben are not animals to be sold off. They’re living human beings. How can you even suggest such a thing?”
“Take it or leave it, Preacher.” He slurred his words, and Tarah knew they didn’t have much time before he was too far gone to be reasonable.
Fists clenched, Anthony stepped forward. Tarah’s eyes widened. She couldn’t let the preacher get into a brawl with a drunken man. Even if Anthony could take him. She grabbed his arm to halt him.
“Will you excuse us for just a moment, Mr. Jenkins?”
“Take yer time,” he said and tipped the bottle again.
Tarah pulled Anthony back to the horses where they could speak in private.
His brown eyes blazed. “Forget it,” he said. “We are not buying those beautiful children from that skunk. I’ve half a mind to go to the sheriff and have him arrested.”
“He’d just deny it.” Tarah grabbed on to Anthony’s muscled arms. “Now you listen to me, Anthony Greene. As if he wasn’t despicable enough, now we see how horrid he really is.”
Anthony groaned. “Tarah. . .”
“He probably never thought of selling those children before. But we put the thought into his head by wanting to take them from him. What if he tries to sell them to someone else?” Tarah shuddered at the thought. “Someone who won’t love them?”
A flicker of doubt appeared in Anthony’s eyes, spurring Tarah to fight on. “Don’t you see? We have no choice. I won’t take a chance on losing them forever to who knows what kind of life.”
Nodding, Anthony grabbed one of her hands and pulled her back to the soddy. Mr. Jenkins tossed the now-empty bottle aside and folded his arms across his sunken chest. “Well?”
“What are your terms?” Anthony asked.
Jenkins scratched at the gray stubble on his chin. “Let’s see, here. A hunnerd a head oughtta do it.”
Tarah gasped, and her heart sank to her toes. “I only have fifty.”
“Well then, Girlie. Ya got yerself a problem, dontcha? Guess iffen’ ya really wanted ’em, ya could come up with the price.”
“The children are priceless, Mr. Jenkins, and I’d give my last cent to take them home with me. But I don’t have two hundred dollars.” Tarah caught Anthony’s gaze. The sickened expression clouding his face dashed her hopes.
“I’m afraid two hundred dollars is out of the question,” Anthony said. “I don’t have much cash money. No more than twenty dollars. Will you take seventy?”
“Well now, don’ see as how I could.” Mr. Jenkins scanned the horizon over Anthony and Tarah’s head. “Say, Preacher. That’s a mighty fine animal ya got there. Might be, we could work somethin’ out.”
“You want my horse?”
“I gotta have somethin’ to git me where I’m goin’. That ol’ nag up and died on me a couple weeks ago. ’Course, I’d-a be needin’ the saddle, too.”
Anthony swallowed hard and glanced at Dodger. He clenched his jaw and turned back to Jenkins. “That horse is easily worth two hundred dollars. We’ll make it an even swap. Tarah gets the children, and I throw in the saddle.”
Tears filled Tarah’s eyes at the thought of the treasure Anthony was willing to give up for the children’s sake. She wanted to protest, to tell him he couldn’t give the scoundrel his beloved Dodger, but her mouth refused to open. And one look into Anthony’s eyes confirmed her feelings. No price was too great.
“Do we have a deal, Jenkins?” Anthony asked, his voice curt, almost gruff.
“Well, I’m needin’ some cash money.”
Tarah dug quickly into her bag and pulled out ten dollars. “This is all I have with me. Ten dollars and the horse.”
His eyes lit with greed, and he reached out eagerly.
Tarah snatched her hand back. “Not until I see those children safely on my horse.”
A scowl darkened his features. “Ben! Laney! Git out here.”
Laney appeared. Then Ben. Tarah gasped at the sight of the boy. A bruise marred his eye, and he limped with greater care than normal, holding his side.
“You want us, Pa?”
“Nah, I don’ wantcha. The teacher here does.” His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “I don’ know why she’d want a couple a worthless young’uns like you two. But yer hers now.”
“You mean yer givin’ us away? Just like that?” Laney’s brow furrowed, her eyes filled with confusion.
“Go on. Git outta here,” Jenkins bellowed. “An’ don’ bother to come back, ’cause I won’ be here.”
Hurt and anger flashed in Laney’s eyes. She placed an arm around Ben’s shoulder. “Come on, Ben. We don’t stay where we ain’t wanted.”
Ben shrugged off her arm. “I don’t need yer help.”
“Fine,” she shot back. “Fall on yer face, and see if I care!” But Tarah observed that she didn’t leave his side.
Anthony strode to his horse. His hand curled around the leather reins, and he patted the black neck, whispering into Dodger’s ear. Tarah watched as he gathered in a slow breath and handed over the reins.
“Laney, go climb up onto Abby.” She slid her gaze to Ben. “Can you make it up, or should Anthony help you?”
Ben’s soulful eyes stared back at her. “What about you? It’s a good five miles to the ranch.”
Tarah gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “The walk will do me good. I’ve grown soft sitting in that schoolroom all day for the last two months. Come on, now. Let’s hurry.” Before he changes his mind. “Can you make it up on your own?”
Ben nodded, seeming to understand.
When the children’s backs were turned, Tarah hurriedly slipped Jenkins the ten dollars and spun around to join Laney and Ben.
Jenkins chuckled to himself, but no further words were spoken.
Squaring his shoulders, Anthony fell into step beside Tarah, and with the children on Abby, they headed for the St. John ranch.
In a bold move, Tarah grabbed Anthony’s hand to comfort him. He laced his fingers with hers and held tightly, as though drawing on her for strength.
“I cain’t believe Pa just up and gave us away,” Laney said hotly.
The relief Tarah had expected from the children was replaced by the reality of indignation and hurt. Emotions she had never expected from them.
“He ain’t givin’ us away, Laney,” Ben said with a scowl.
“Do ya think I’m dumb? I got ears. Pa said we was Tarah’s now. If that ain’t givin’ a person away, I don’t rightly know what is.”
“Pa sold us,” he said curtly.
“Yer crazy,” Laney retorted.
“Why do ya think Anthony and Tarah’s walkin’? Pa got ol’ Dodger, and I seen Tarah give ’im some cash money, too.”
Laney’s mouth dropped, and she regarded Tarah and Anthony with disbelief. “You mean, you bought me and Ben like we was slaves?”
“No, Sweetie,” Tarah said. “We did what we had to do so you don’t have to go back to your pa.”
“Ya said we was like family,” Laney said bitterly. “But we ain’t. We’re just slaves, bought and paid fer.”
Tarah grabbed the reins and halted Abby. She laid her palm on Laney’s jean-clad knee and met her accusing glare.
“You know Cassidy isn’t my blood ma, right? And Emily isn’t my blood sister?”
Laney nodded.
“But I love them as dearly as if they were blood kin. And Hope and Will are no less my brother and sister than Luke and Sam and Jack and Emily,” she said, giving Laney a gentle smile. “It doesn’t matter how you become a family. All that matters is that you love one another.”
To Tarah’s relief, Laney’s face softened refl
ectively.
“And you really can keep us always?”
“Always.”
Laney inclined her head. “Then I reckon we oughtta be gettin’ home b’fore yer ma starts worryin’.”
❧
Anthony’s wide smile greeted Tarah as she dismounted Abby two days later. He strode toward her from the front porch of his house, curiosity filling his brown eyes.
He gestured toward the other horse she led. “What’s this?”
Tarah sent him a cheeky grin. “This, Anthony, is what is commonly referred to as a horse.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled, patting the mare’s chestnut neck. “She’s a beauty.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Tarah could barely contain her excitement as she presented the gift to Anthony. “She’s yours.”
Accepting the reins with reluctance, Anthony’s brow furrowed. “Mine?”
“My pa sent her over—our way of saying thanks for what you did for Ben and Laney.”
“This isn’t necessary, Tarah. I figure after next harvest I can get another riding horse. In the meantime, there’s always the wagon horses.”
“You don’t like her?” Tarah asked, disappointment reaching to her toes. “Pa said you can pick out another one if you prefer, but I thought you’d like this one the best. I know she can’t replace Dodger. . . .”
The gentle caress of Anthony’s finger upon her lips silenced her. “I didn’t say I don’t like her.”
Trying to calm her racing pulse at Anthony’s touch, Tarah stepped back, causing his hand to drop. “Then why not take her?”
“Would it mean so much to you?” he asked, his gaze searching her face.
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
A gentle smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Then tell your pa I accept.”
“Wonderful. He’ll be pleased.”
“How are Ben and Laney getting along?” Anthony asked, tethering the new mare to the rail spanning the length of the porch.
Tarah wrapped Abby’s reins around the porch railing as well, then turned to Anthony. “They’re doing wonderfully. Though Luke and Laney fight like a couple of wild dogs over a piece of meat.” Tarah shook her head. “Honestly, Anthony. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. And Luke is acting up in school again, too. I was afraid the reprieve was too good to last.”
“And Jo?” He leaned against the rail and folded his arms across his broad chest.
Tarah hated to be a tattletale, but neither could she look Anthony in the face and lie. “Well, they aren’t as bad as they used to be,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I suppose I can put up with them for a couple more weeks.”
“I can speak to her ma about her.”
Tarah shook her head. “Don’t, Anthony. Your sister doesn’t need to be upset in her delicate. . .well, you know.”
A flush reddened Anthony’s neck and cheeks, and he reached out, absently patting his new horse. Silence loomed between them momentarily until Anthony spoke. “Have you decided whether or not to accept the teaching position in Starling?”
Studying his face for any signs that he might want her to stay, Tarah felt her stomach drop as his eyes reflected only interest. No worry, no dread. Just interest.
She shrugged. “I haven’t replied just yet. I have a few more weeks, but I suppose I’ll go. The town council in Harper offered me another certificate for next term. So teaching in Starling will pass the time.”
A heavy sigh escaped Anthony’s lips. “So you won’t be gone for good.”
Tarah frowned, not sure if Anthony’s sigh meant he was glad or disappointed that she’d be back. “No. Pa said the council is close to approving a full school term like in the cities, so once I’m back, I suppose I’ll teach for as long as they’ll have me.”
“How do you think Laney’s going to take the news you’re going to Starling for five months?” Anthony sent her a crooked grin.
“I’ll take Laney and Ben with me, of course,” Tarah replied without hesitation.
Anthony’s eyes widened. “You will?”
“I’ve already spoken to Pa and Ma about it. Laney and Ben are my responsibility, and I love them dearly. I want to take care of them.” Tarah shifted her weight and regarded Anthony frankly. “I’ve spoken to Pa and asked him to consider building a small teacherage in town where the three of us could live once we return to Harper.”
“And he agreed to that?” Anthony asked incredulously.
“He’s agreed to speak with the council about it.” Tarah’s eyes narrowed. “Why shouldn’t he?”
A shrug lifted Anthony’s shoulders. “You’re mighty young and, well, small to be taking on a ready-made family, don’t you think?”
Tarah bristled and folded her arms across her chest. “If I thought so, I wouldn’t be doing it. And what does being small have to do with raising a couple of kids?”
“I don’t know.” Anthony raked his fingers through his thick hair and scowled. “Why do you have to get so riled up about things?”
“I don’t know!” Tarah stomped to the railing and untied Abby just as the door swung open.
Anthony’s gray-haired mother appeared at the threshold. “Where are you going, Tarah?”
“I was about to go home.”
“Her pa sent me a horse,” Anthony said sheepishly.
“How kind of him.” A broad smile split her plump face, and she gave a cursory nod toward the new animal. “It’s lovely. Anthony, have you forgotten we have a guest for dinner?”
Anthony’s ears turned red. “I suppose I did.”
“Well, you’ve left her to us long enough. You’d better get back inside.” She turned to Tarah. “Honey, tie that horse back up and come on in. Your ma will know you’re taking supper with us.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t intrude. Really. Especially if you have a guest.” And especially if that guest was who Tarah had a feeling it might be. The thought of watching Louisa Thomas fawn all over Anthony through dinner not only robbed Tarah of her appetite; the unwelcome image made her positively ill.
Mrs. Greene waved away her protest. “Nonsense. There’s always plenty in this house,” she insisted. “And you haven’t been out here since Anthony and Ella came back from the East. Anthony, tie up Tarah’s horse, and both of you come in to supper.” With that, she returned inside and let the door swing shut behind her, leaving no room for more argument.
Tarah glanced helplessly at Anthony.
“Ma doesn’t take no for an answer,” he said with an uneasy grin. “You’d better do as she says.”
“Oh, all right.”
Anthony cleared his throat as they walked together up the steps. “Tarah, there’s something you should know about our dinner guest.”
“Louisa?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as it always did when he was nervous, a habit Tarah found endearing, even now. He nodded. “I’m sorry. She just dropped by to bring Ma some quilting patches. And you know Ma. . . .”
“She can’t help but take in wandering females?” Tarah gave him her best forced smile. “Don’t worry, Anthony. I can be civil to your young lady for a couple of hours if I have to.” She brushed past him and, without waiting for him to open the door, slipped inside, trying to choke back her humiliation.
Louisa’s icy smile greeted them. “Why, Tarah, how lovely you dropped by—just at suppertime.”
Heat rose to Tarah’s cheeks at the implication.
“Tarah knows she’s always a more-than-welcome guest in this house,” Mrs. Greene said, giving Tarah a pat on the arm.
Louisa’s nervous laughter filled the air, ringing Tarah’s ears. “Well, of course she is. In every town the schoolteacher and the preacher are fixtures at one table or another, aren’t they?”
“And even more so when they happen to be cherished friends,” Mrs. Greene shot back.
Tarah looked between the two women, wondering if either realized what the exchange sounded like. From the embarrassed look on Ella�
��s and Anthony’s faces, she had a feeling she wasn’t the only person in the room who recognized Anthony’s mother as her champion. Unbidden sympathy welled within her at Louisa’s red face.
Anthony held out Tarah’s chair for her, and she sat gratefully, knowing her trembling legs would give out at any moment if forced to continue standing.
Rounding the table, Anthony took a seat next to Louisa. The smug smile curving Louisa’s mouth said clearly, I belong here and you don’t.
Tarah kept silent during the meal, speaking only when spoken to. She fought to maintain her composure amid the humiliating experience and longed for the last bite of dessert when she could be on her way.
Louisa’s incessant chatter grated on Tarah’s already taut nerves until she wanted to cover her ears and scream.
“Tarah brought Anthony a beautiful mare from her pa,” Mrs. Greene said during a pause in Louisa’s prattle.
“Oh, you’re buying a horse from the St. Johns, Anthony?” Louisa asked, a frown creasing her otherwise flawless skin. “I’m sure you could have gotten a better price in Abilene.”
What does Louisa Thomas know about the price of horses? Tarah thought, defenses rising at the possible slight to her father’s pricing of their animals.
“The St. John ranch has the finest reputation for quality stock around,” Anthony said, his voice tense. “At an auction I wouldn’t know what I was getting. Besides, I couldn’t have asked for a better price. The horse was a gift.”
“A gift?” Louisa’s gaze riveted on Tarah, her eyes narrowing to two green slits, reminding Tarah of blades of grass peeking through the slats in the outhouse wall.
“My pa gave him the horse because of—”
“Because I lost Dodger,” Anthony broke in.
Eyes widening, Tarah stared at Anthony. He hadn’t told Louisa about Mr. Jenkins?
Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, Louisa pressed on. “Oh, well, Anthony. I’m sure my father would be more than happy to buy you the finest horse in the state. Do be sensible and tell Mr. St. John you can’t accept his gift.”
Tarah's Lessons Page 15
