Page 1 of Magnolia Summer

Chapter 1

June, 1880, Bethel Springs, Alabama

Truett Beverly aimed his rifle at the noose above James’s head. He would only get one shot to sever the rope, but that wasn’t what bothered him. How to get away from the half dozen men, all armed and standing near their able-bodied horses after he fired the shot—that was what bothered him.

Even as the sun sank low, the summer heat sent sweat trickling down his neck and over his collarbone. The dark hood concealed Truett’s face. Strands of hair clung to his sweaty temples. The long cape hid everything except his boots, but his black gelding was more likely to be recognized than his boots. He could only hope the descending darkness would prevent that.

Sheriff Suggs took the noose from a low, thick branch of the white oak tree and placed it around James’s neck. The pale rope stood out against his friend’s dark brown skin. In the light of the torches the small lynch mob was holding, Truett imagined he could see James swallow, his throat bobbing against the stiff noose.

Heat boiled up from Truett’s gut.

The sheriff’s beefy jowls shook at his own words, something about protection of women. He was lynching James for trying to rape his daughter. But it was a lie. James would never do such a thing, not to Almira Suggs nor anyone else. Sheriff Suggs would jump at any excuse, rumor, or made-up story to lynch a black man—especially the one his daughter was in love with.

Truett forced himself not to blink or even breathe as he curled his finger around the trigger. He must do it now, before Sheriff Suggs ended his rant, turned, and sent James’s horse charging out from under him.

Truett squeezed the trigger.

The cracking boom of the gun echoed through the woods. The sheriff and his men pivoted, searching the semi-darkness of the woods for the source of the gunshot. After a moment of stunned silence, they called out to each other, struggling to catch their skittish horses’ reins and mount them.

Truett had already shoved his gun into the holster on his saddle. He urged his horse into a gallop.

He kept his eyes on James, who leaned forward over his horse’s neck. He clutched the pommel of the saddle with his bound hands and hung on, pressing his heels into the horse’s sides to move her into the trees, away from the sheriff and his men.

“There he is!”

A glance over his shoulder showed the six men kicking their horses in pursuit. They pointed, cursing and shouting, “Get him!”

Truett hunkered low over Colonel’s neck, anticipating the shots that would be fired at him. His heart thundered against his ribs, and he stifled the whoop of triumph that rose into his throat.

As the men closed in on them, Truett caught up with James and the brown mare, and they crashed through the brush.

The whites showed all around the mare’s eyes. If only she would keep running, following the lead of Truett’s black gelding.

The shouting continued behind them. James turned his head toward Truett.

“We’ll never outrun them.” James said.

Truett sent his horse tearing down the side of a tree-covered embankment. At the bottom, in the dark and dense foliage, the trail was barely discernable. Truett followed it until he saw a half-fallen tree and turned Colonel sharply to the right.

James’s horse followed him. Truett drew to a stop and slid from the saddle. He grabbed both horses’ reins and led them into the mouth of the cave. James dismounted as well.

Truett cocked his head toward the cave entrance, listening. His heart beat so hard it vibrated his chest.

The seconds dragged on. Where was Sheriff Suggs and the other men? Had they gone another way? Or were they waiting outside to pounce on them when they ventured out? Truett laid his hand on his gun, straining his eyes toward the entrance of the cave.

Hoof beats approached. The sound grew louder and louder until they were right outside. He pulled his gun out of its holster and braced his feet apart.

The sound gradually grew softer, until Truett once again heard only silence.

The cave was so dark, he could barely make out James’s form and couldn’t see his face at all. They both just stood there, not moving or making a sound. The quiet was almost a palpable presence in his ears. After almost a full minute, Truett finally took a deep breath.

“Is that you, Truett?” James whispered.

“Who else?” Truett stepped into the half-light at the entrance of the cave and flipped the hood off his head. He grinned at his best friend.

James shook his head. He whispered, his words barely audible, “Truett Beverly, you’re the beatinest sight I ever did see. You saved my life.” His voice hitched at the last word.

Truett swallowed past the lump in his throat. Sheriff Suggs would’ve taken James’s life and never felt a moment’s remorse. He took a step toward James and enveloped him in a bear hug. James didn’t hug him back. Then Truett remembered—his hands were still tied.