Barrie attempted to back away, her expression filled with fear. She tried to loosen George’s grip on her hand at the same time, but he wasn’t letting go. She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t utter a word, obviously too frightened.
Barrie was the sweetest and kindest and would never purposely hurt anyone. Anger churned in Sheridan’s belly on Barrie’s behalf.
“Mother, stop! We’re just skating.” George insisted, his face, too, reddening. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“You’re touching her! That’s enough! She’s…she’s…” Samantha stammered and finally uttered, “Dirty.” She yanked on her son’s arm, trying to dislodge his hold on Barrie. “You’re coming home with me right now! You will not associate with…with filthy whores!”
Sheridan gasped. Unable to stand still another moment, she skated as best she could toward them, her anger making her movements awkward. She situated herself between Barrie, George and Samantha. She took a breath, looking for calmness to address the situation without making it worse. Before she could say a word though, Samantha turned on her. “And you! You should go back to where you belong.”
Sheridan straightened, standing up tall. “I will not.” She kept her voice quiet, restrained, but still full of conviction. “And you have no right to tell me so, nor do you have the right to be so cruel.” She nodded toward Barrie and George. “They weren’t doing anything wrong.”
Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “I will do whatever I have to do in order to protect my son from the likes of you…and your whores!” She reached around her and attempted to yank on her son’s arm once more, but it didn’t look like George was willing tolet go of Barrie’s hand, though it was evident Barrie wanted him to. Actually, it looked like she was ready to cry. George, though, looked furious. Samantha stepped closer.
“No one wants you here. You’re just like your mother,” Samantha snapped, her entire being stiff and uncompromising, her eyes narrowing.
“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.” Where her bravado came from, she didn’t know. And at this moment, she didn’t care. “My mother was a fine woman. A good woman. And I’m proud to be her daughter.”
A ripple of gasps from the growing crowd surrounded her.
Samantha’s mouth opened and closed several times, even as the redness on her cheeks spread outward to encompass her entire face.
Not unhappy about the pause in pure, unadulterated hatred, Sheridan turned around and gently removed George’s hand from Barrie’s. “I think it would be wise to take your mother home now.”
The boy’s cheeks turned a brighter shade of red, apparently appalled by his mother’s behavior and embarrassed by all of the attention. “We was only skatin’.”
“I know, but that is obviously upsetting your mother.”
The young man hung his head for a moment, then did as he was asked, reluctantly. He stepped forward and attempted to grasp his mother’s hand. “Come on, Mother. Let’s go home.”
Samantha pulled away as her gaze swept over her son, as if seeing him for the first time as young man and not a boy, able and willing to make his own decisions. She looked at his outstretched hand and shook her head. She didn’t say a word as she turned and pushed her way through the crowd, to the edge of the ice.
George gave Sheridan and Barrie a quick, apologetic nod then followed his mother.
Sheridan watched them leave the ice, then turned to Barrie and reached for her hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, but there was a catch in her voice.
Sheridan glanced around and spotted Lily. “Will you help Barrie?”
“Yes, of course.” Lily gathered the young woman close and escorted her off the ice to the murmurs of the small crowd, which was dispersing now that the confrontation had ended, except for Susannah and Valentine, who stood staring at her as if she were their hero. The look gave her pause.
“Well done,” Wyatt whispered close to her ear.
She jumped, startled, having forgotten that he’d been beside her this whole time, but thankful that he had.
“I’m proud of you for standing up for Barrie.”
“I had to.” She looked at him, her gaze searching his face, surprised at her own behavior. Never, in all her twenty-six years, had she disregarded her own rule of not drawing attention to herself, and here she’d done so in defense of someone else. A month ago, even a week ago, she wouldn’t have.
He reached for her hand. “You’re shaking.”
“I’ve never done something like that before, but I couldn’t just let someone—anyone—criticize another person like that, especially someone as kind and sweet as Barrie.” Sheridan’s gaze moved to where George and his mother stopped to take off their skates, then she searched for Barrie and Lily, who were doing the same. “She’s one of the sweetest women I know. She didn’t deserve Samantha’s anger or the terrible things she said.”
“There are some minds you’ll never be able to change, Sherry. People will think what they want.”
“I know, but still…she did not have to attack Barrie. She could have asked nicely. She could have spoken to her son, privately, and avoided that—that public spectacle.” She drew inher breath, her anger still seething. “I will not have anyone saying a disparaging word against my girls.”
She stilled. Not only had she confronted a bully—and Samantha was a bully—but when had she come to think of Barrie, Lily, Susannah and Valentine as her girls? It seemed, the longer she stayed in Serenity, and at Josie’s house, the more she was changing, and she liked that change. For the first time in her life, she was starting to feel like she belonged. Tonight, she had smiled and laughed and even become angry, not in defense of herself, but of someone else and it felt good. Was she slowly becoming like her mother, who, by all accounts, had been kindness itself?
