Truett finally broke away from Beulah Pettibone. He’d wanted to go over and talk to Celia ever since he saw them drive up, but Beulah had cornered him, wanting to talk about the cotillion her mama was giving for her eighteenth birthday. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings, but she could probably tell he was not interested in the details of the upcoming gathering.

He strode toward Celia Wilcox. She looked perturbed, maybe even angry.

He took her hand. “Miss Celia.” He bowed and kissed it lightly before letting go.

She frowned. He grinned. It amused him that she seemed so wholly unimpressed with him. But he’d promised himself he would make her repent of her low opinion of him, so he’d better make some progress today. After all, he didn’t know when he’d see her again. And it kept his mind off worrying about James and Almira—and the sheriff.

“Dr. Beverly, I’d like to speak with you.”

At that moment the people in the yard began moving toward the open door of the church. It was time for the church service to start.

“Of course, Miss Celia. If you don’t mind being late for church, I don’t mind either.”

“I don’t think this will take long. I couldn’t help but notice your, ah, encounter with your brother two days ago. Then this morning he was touching my little sister, Tempie.”

“Touching her?”

“He was tying the strings of her bonnet. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I was alarmed. After I saw what your brother is capable of, I don’t believe it’s safe . . .”

“Don’t believe what’s safe?” He probably shouldn’t goad her. Of course he knew exactly what she was getting at. She was afraid for Tempie’s safety around Griff. It was a legitimate concern, after what she’d witnessed.

Her eyes were so pretty. Framed by thick black lashes, they were a dark brown, almost black, that matched her thick hair, which fairly glowed in the morning sunlight. Too bad she kept it pulled back so tightly. No feminine tendrils to hang down by each cheek like the other girls.

“Dr. Beverly, are you listening?”

“Of course. You were talking about Griff being a danger to Tempie.”

She stared. “Well?”

“It is true, Griff is dangerous when provoked or when he thinks he’s being treated unfairly. He has the mind of a five-year-old, but the body and instincts of a man. Not a very good combination, I admit. But the community has adjusted to him. I am able to recognize when he’s becoming agitated, and so are many others. I don’t believe Griff would ever feel threatened by Tempie, and I assure you, none of the men here would allow anything to happen to your sister.”

During his discourse, she folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head to one side.

She finally smiled—a serious smile, but pleasant. “Thank you for explaining the situation, Dr. Beverly. I can’t help but wonder, though, if you’ve considered the other options for him.”

“You mean Bryce Hospital in Tuscaloosa?” The hospital for the insane was actually a very progressive and humane program. Truett had toured the facility once years before. The hospital was headed by Peter Bryce, the leader in the field of medicine for the mentally insane, and it had attracted doctors from all over the country—and even the world—who wished to study his revolutionary ideas, much gentler and kinder ways of treating them than were used anywhere else.

But no matter how progressive the hospital was, Truett didn’t like being told he should send his brother there. How would she feel if he suggested she do the same thing with her mother?

“I apologize, Dr. Beverly. I wouldn’t bring it up at all except that I’m concerned about my younger siblings.”

He tried not to be angry with her. After all, he might feel the same way if he were in her shoes. But she didn’t know Griff like he did. Griff had a big heart. He loved people with the intensity and trust of a child. But because of his brain injury, he sometimes got agitated and confused. He sometimes lost control.

Truett took a deep breath before he spoke. “We’ve actually considered it—at least, my father and I have. My mother won’t hear of it. She intends to take care of him as long as she lives. But as I said, your young siblings are safe. The other men of the community would intervene well before he could hurt anyone.”

“Thank you, Doctor, for explaining.” She pursed her lips as though she still wasn’t completely satisfied.

She’d only just arrived, but obviously she wasn’t afraid to share her opinion. Not only had she not been impressed by his poetry recitation, but she’d insinuated that he couldn’t keep his brother from being a danger to little children.

He was in danger of losing his wager with himself. Perhaps more than ever, he wanted to change her opinion of him. He would win her over yet.

Everyone else had already entered the church. Truett held out his arm to Celia, knowing she would bristle at having to walk into the church on his arm. Sure enough, the slight scowl on her face showed that she didn’t want to allow him the liberty.

Still, she accepted his arm, placing her small gloved hand inside the crook of his elbow. And he liked the gentle warmth of it.

Celia walked into the church on Truett Beverly’s arm just as the song leader was clearing his throat. The whole church stood, holding hymnals. Several people turned to see who was walking in late. Their eyes grew big as they watched Celia enter on Truett’s arm. The blond woman who had been talking with Truett narrowed her eyes and her cheeks turned red.

She searched for Lizzie and finally saw her standing with Will and the twins—in the same pew with Truett’s mother and Griff. Lizzie scooted over and left enough room for two people by the inside aisle. Truett led her straight there, and Celia stood beside her sister. Truett picked up the hymnal in the back of the pew in front of them and held it between him and Celia.

Dozens of eyes burned into the back of her head. As well as a few in front that were rudely turned in her direction.

Since there weren’t any other hymnals, Celia had no choice but to share with Truett.

She could certainly see where everyone’s thoughts had gone. But Truett Beverly was safe from her. If it were proper to do so, she’d announce it to all the unmarried women of the county.

After singing one song, they all sat down and sang two more. Celia was careful to keep her left arm close to her side so as not to come in contact with Truett Beverly’s arm, or even his sleeve. When the preacher stood up to speak, she held her black leather Bible on her lap and got ready to turn to whatever chapter and verse he dictated.

The man spoke slowly and precisely. He called out a Scripture verse, then rattled it off from memory before Celia was able to turn to it in her Bible. His message was good, full of admonitions to live a life worthy of the gospel, though his grammar was somewhat wanting. He called out several other verses, but again, he quoted them before she could even find the correct book.

Truett Beverly sat perfectly still, the small Bible he’d pulled from his pocket cradled in his hands, but when she glanced at his face, he appeared to be reading the Bible instead of listening to the preacher. Why? At the end of the sermon, they sang one more song and someone spoke a collective prayer.

When the service was over, Celia engaged Lizzie in a conversation about the final preparations for dinner, making sure Truett Beverly couldn’t talk to her without interrupting.

Finally, when most of the people sitting in front of them had made their way toward the back of the building, Celia stood. Dr. Beverly was nowhere in sight. She set her jaw and lifted her chin. Good, he’s gone.

She wasn’t sure why her eyes kept darting around the churchyard looking for him.

“You must be Lizzie Wilcox’s sister.”

Celia turned to see a pretty girl with a pale complexion, brown hair, and a shy smile. “I am. Call me Celia.”

The girl held out a slim, fragile-looking hand. “I wanted to welcome you to Bethel Springs. I’m Almira Suggs.”

Truett stood outside with the rest of men, pretending to listen to their conversation about fishing in the creek. Instead, he was thinking how Celia had turned her back on him. Apparently she wasn’t interested in him, and that was for the best. Even though he still wanted to make her admit he was much more refined and intelligent than she had believed him to be, he needed to remember that he had little to offer Celia, or any woman. He would be quite ungallant if he caused her to think well of him, only to hurt her when she discovered he had no intention of marrying. Because if Sheriff Suggs ever found out he was the hooded horseman who had rescued James Burwell from his noose, Truett wouldn’t live long enough to make a woman a widow, much less a wife.

And women generally liked their husbands living.

Truett shoved his hands in his pockets, wandering over to wait in the shade of the trees until his mother and Griff were ready to go, but Sheriff Suggs’s wide shoulders caught his eye. Four other men were crowded around him. His head and eyes were lowered, as well as his voice, as he spoke to the men.

Truett started walking in their direction but kept his eyes focused away from them, pretending not to notice the gathering.

He drew closer and was able to make out the mumble of the Sheriff’s deep voice. He picked a leaf from the pecan tree he was passing and pretended to study it.

“We’ll go over tonight, after dark, and scare him good,” went Sheriff Suggs’s voice. “He knows where his boy went to, and we’ll force it out of him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Truett saw a couple of nods. But he kept his face directed down at his leaf. How many times had he seen James studying a leaf or a flower in exactly the same way? Always curious about everything, the quintessential scientist.

“I won’t need more than one or two men. Shouldn’t have any trouble with old Cato Burwell.”

The men chuckled, a cruel sound.

Slowly Truett moved away from the huddle of men and let the leaf drop from his hand. He knew where and when the sheriff planned to strike next, and he would be waiting.

His blood boiled at what they intended to do to James’s father, who had been blinded in an accident when James was a little boy.

Well, Truett had a plan of his own.

Celia smiled at Almira. She must be around Celia’s age or a bit younger, and she spoke in a soft, intelligent voice.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Almira.”

“I’m the teacher for the school here in Bethel Springs. Your sister Lizzie is bright and a fast learner. Will is too, though not as eager as Lizzie. Boys generally aren’t. Most boys, that is.” She got a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was thinking of someone else, even though she was still looking at Celia.

“Thank you. Yes, they’re both good readers, and Will is especially good at math.”

“I sure was sorry about your father’s accident, and sorry Lizzie and Will had to quit school. Of course, I understood about them having to take care of your mama and the little ones.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“I hear from Lizzie that you’re a dressmaker and hope to open your own shop.” Almira smiled, and it was as though the sun had popped out from behind a cloud.

“I do hope.” The words argued against her rising fear. Would she ever achieve her dream? After all, their family’s tragedy had already prevented Lizzie and Will from attending school. But if Celia could earn the family’s living, they could go back.

. “Good morning, Miss Suggs.” Lizzie said as she joined them, offering her teacher a smile just before she squeezed Celia’s arm. “You won’t believe what everybody is talking about! Some men tried to lynch a man—I’m not sure who he was—but then another man, wearing a hood to cover his face, saved him right as they were about to put his head through the noose!”

Celia’s free hand fluttered to her neck. “My goodness.” One rarely thought of such things occurring in one’s own town. They always seemed to happen in some far off, backward place.

Almira’s eyelids flickered and her face went white.

Lizzie took a step forward. “Are you well, Miss Suggs?”

“Oh, of course. I just hate to hear of such goings on, that’s all.” She lifted a paper fan and started swishing it so vigorously that stray strands of hair blew wildly around her face.

“I think I’m the last person to hear of it,” Lizzie went on. “You’ve heard about it, haven’t you Miss Suggs?”

“Well, yes, I did hear something.” Almira’s face had gone from white to showing a bright spot of red in the middle of each pale cheek.

“Who was the man getting lynched, Miss Suggs? Do you know?”

Celia was alarmed at the obvious discomfort Almira was suffering. The schoolteacher swallowed hard and fluttered her fan even faster, but she couldn’t seem to focus on either of them.

“I—I—someone else here could probably tell you.” Her voice trailed off.

“Do you know who was doing the lynching?”

“Lizzie, that’s enough.” Celia rested her hand on her sister’s arm. “Well-bred ladies shouldn’t speak of such things.”

Lizzie glanced at Miss Suggs and ducked her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Suggs.”

“That’s all right.” Almira’s mouth opened again, but she remained quiet.

Celia wasn’t sure what to say to the schoolteacher, and the silence soon grew awkward. Finally, Lizzie left to join friends who beckoned her to join their huddled whispers beneath a nearby shade trees.

Almira took out her handkerchief and dabbed at her lips.

It seemed best to change the subject. “I hope my mother will be herself again soon and Will and Lizzie will be able to get back to school.”

“Yes, that would be good. I hope so too.” Almira nodded, gratitude in her smile. “Education is so important.” Again, her eyes took on a faraway look.

“So many people feel women should be confined to household chores and shouldn’t pursue education—or business. I’m an oddity, I suppose, since I don’t intend to be imprisoned in such a way.”

Almira’s eyes sparkled. “Amen and pass the gumption.”

They both laughed. Celia was going to like Almira.

Truett’s heart beat fast as he crouched behind a bush in James’s father’s back yard. Through the darkness, Truett could just make out the little wooden shack Cato Burwell shared with his brother Ben. The structure leaned to one side and smoke rose from a crooked chimney. A lamp shone through the curtainless window.

About a hundred yards from the house, his black gelding Colonel waited in the woods. Truett couldn’t risk him being closer, lest someone recognize his horse.

He didn’t have to wait long. Sheriff Suggs rode up with another man, possibly his son, Curtis. He couldn’t see their faces, but he recognized the sheriff by his rotund shape. Since there were only two of them, he could handle those odds.

Suggs banged twice on the back door, then flung it open. They stepped inside.

Truett drew his two Colt revolvers and made his way across the back yard, past the hen house and the garden, past the outhouse, the clothesline, and the root cellar. The back door was open. He eased inside without making a sound.

The smoky kitchen was empty, but male voices drifted from the next room.

Truett sneaked through the open passageway, then stopped and stood against the wall just outside the living room.

Curtis was holding the two black men down on two straight back chairs, one hand on Cato’s neck, the other squeezing his brother Ben’s. Fear widened Cato’s clouded gray eyes as he faced toward Truett, unseeing.

“Where is he?” the sheriff demanded, bending from his six-foot height to glare at Cato.

“He’s gone.”

“I know he’s gone. Tell me where, or you’ll get the worst beating of your life.” The sheriff lifted his fist over James’s father’s head.

Truett’s blood thumped in his temples. He stepped forward, pointing a revolver at Curtis, who was facing him, and stuck the barrel of the other Colt against Sheriff Suggs’s back.

“Hands in the air,” Truett said, his voice lowered to a gruff rasp.

Truett tucked one revolver under his arm. He reached over Suggs’s shoulder and took the gun from his hand. He set it on the floor and kicked it to Ben, who bent and snatched it up.

“Who are you?” Suggs growled.

“Get out,” Truett rasped. “If you ever touch these men again, you’ll get worse than a beating.”

He shoved the sheriff toward the back door. Curtis closed his mouth and glared. He began walking toward the back of the house. Truett followed, his gun at Sheriff Sugg’s back. He noted the bulge of a pistol at Curtis’s right side.

“Hands in the air.” Truett pressed his gun harder into the sheriff’s back while keeping his eye on Curtis. Finally, they reached the back door. Curtis pushed it open and stepped onto the top step.

“You won’t get away with this. The sheriff is the law here, and—”

“Shut up, boy,” Sheriff Suggs grunted at Curtis.

“Keep walking, unless you want me to blow your sheriff into the next county.”

They kept walking across the yard toward the horses. Truett veered to the left, still keeping his guns trained on the two men. He made it to the pen where Cato and Ben kept their hunting dogs as Ben came out the back door.

Ben gave a shrill whistle. The dogs became frenzied. Truett unlatched the gate to the pen and opened it wide.

“Sic ’em!”

The dogs threw themselves into the open, charging toward Suggs and Curtis. The hounds bayed and snarled as they ran. Sheriff Suggs and Curtis raced for their horses. They flung themselves into their saddles a bare moment before the dogs reached them. The animals snapped ferociously at the men’s ankles. The Suggs men lit out at a full gallop toward the road and didn’t stop once they got there.

Truett shoved his guns into his hip holsters and took off at a fast trot through the woods to find Colonel. Ben and Cato shouted after him, “Hey! Hey!” But Truett didn’t look back, not even when Cato Burwell shouted after him, “Much obliged to you!”