AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So what? He’s a Chinaman!” another voice responded.
“What you really mean,” Leah challenged in a voice she didn’t know she possessed, “is that Charlie doesn’t look like everyone else in Smoke River?”
“Yeah, he’s got slanty eyes.” This came from one of Ellie’s students.
“And he ain’t white, like the rest of us.” This came from the back of the room.
Old Mrs. Bolan next to Ellie banged her cane on the floor. “Well, what of it?”
“By golly,” a bent, gray-bearded man spluttered. “I dunno as it makes a lot of diff’rence what color his skin is. He makes the best blackberry pie I ever tasted!”
The opposing sides of the room began slinging comments back and forth.
“No damn Chinaman’s gonna show his face in our town!”
“Why not? He’s got as much right as anybody.”
“Oh, yeah? Prove it!”
“Don’t have to,” a schoolmate of Teddy’s screamed. “It’s in the Constitution.”
“Sez who?”
“Sez Miz Johnson, that’s who.”
“No woman speaks for me, you son of a gun!”
“She’s the schoolteacher. She oughtta know! She oughtta speak for all of us.”
At that point, Marshal Johnson rose to his feet. “Folks, I’m reminding you again that having freedom of speech means everyone can say whatever crazy thing they want, but there’s to be no violence.”
Leah sank onto the fruit crate. She had said what she had to; now she could only watch and listen.
The heated shouting match went on for another half hour. In the middle of the uproar the Williams family and red-bearded Mr. O’Brian stalked deliberately over to Leah’s side of the room.
Finally Carl Ness, his narrow face splotchy with rage, jumped to his feet and banged down his gavel so hard the cedar head flew off and clattered onto the floor. A man grabbed it and raised his arm to throw it into the opposite crowd.
Marshal Johnson heaved his tall frame upright and in an instant complete quiet settled over the room. “Let’s keep it peaceful, folks.”
Colonel Wash Halliday, Jeanne’s husband, rose immediately and raised one hand. “I move we vote on it.”
“I second the motion,” the marshal said quietly. “That’s democratic as hell. Vote no, and Uncle Charlie’s bakery goes. Vote yes, and it stays.”
“But either way,” Colonel Halliday added, “Charlie has a right to live in Smoke River. Right, Marshal?”
Johnson gave a decisive nod. “Absolutely damn right.”
Colonel Halliday pinned the mercantile owner with a look that could wither cornstalks. “Right, Carl?”
“Hell, no!” Carl yelled. “I’m never gonna agree to—”
His wife jabbed him in the ribs and he shifted uneasily. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled. “When ya put it that way, I guess he’s got a right.”
“That’s real smart of you, Carl,” the marshal said with a grin. “I’ll set up a ballot box at the mercantile. We’ll vote on Tuesday about whether Charlie’s bakery stays. That’s all. Have a peaceful night, folks.”
Thad and Leah mounted their horses in silence and headed back to the ranch. Teddy rode in front of Thad, talking excitedly about the evening’s event. Leah, still shaking from her speech-making ordeal, could not say a word.
They rode side by side for a mile without speaking, and then, where the town road split, Thad caught her bridle and leaned his large frame close to hers.
“I’m proud of you, Leah.”
A warm flush washed through her. He was really proud of her? For some reason she wanted to cry.
He said nothing more, just rode on. Teddy’s chatter brought only an occasional noncommittal grunt from his father.
Leah tightened her hands on the reins. Sharp darts of anxiety were beginning to jump in her stomach. What was Thad really thinking? Finally she could not stand his silence one more minute.
She cleared her throat. “Where did you take Uncle Charlie during the meeting?”
Thad snorted. “You mean where’d I hide him from the tar and feathers? I took him up to Verena’s.”
“Verena’s! Verena’s? Verena’s apartment is right above the meeting hall!” Angry words bubbled up, but Leah forced them back.
“Thought he’d be safest in the bosom of his enemies, so to speak. Verena never knew he was there. She’d already gone down to the meeting.”
Disbelief welled inside Leah. “Thad, how could you?”
“Why the hell not? Charlie loved it. He made tea in her fancy flowered teapot and even scrubbed off her stovetop.”
