Page 100 of Magnolia Summer

She looked up and took his shirt in her fists, gazing intently into his eyes. “I love you, Truett. No matter what happens, I love you, and I think you’re the most wonderful man in the world. God has shown me how wrong I was, how twisted and confused my thinking had become. Nothing is more important to me than loving you. And I just want you to know that.”

Truett’s slid his hand behind her neck and he kissed her lips. He longed to pull her closer, but the bars prevented it.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re so beautiful when you tell me you love me.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Is that the only time I’m beautiful?”

“No. You’re also beautiful when you smile, and when you’re mad at me, and when you’re yelling at Suggs, and even when you cry. You’re beautiful all the time . . . especially when you’ve just been kissed.”

She caught her breath and stared at his lips.

The sound of a door squeaking on its hinges forced them apart. Truett winced when his mother walked in. Would she break down at seeing him injured and in jail? But when his father followed right behind her, his heart soared as hope filled his lungs.

* * *

“Mr. Beverly!”Celia gasped, relieved at the sight of Truett’s father. The man was a strong presence and carried himself with a cool aloofness that commanded respect. But somehow Mrs. Beverly’s panicked clucking and hovering also calmed her. Celia leaned against the wall while Truett reassured his mother that everything would be all right. His father, on the other hand, stood stoically glaring into space, limiting his words to short, half sentences about not tolerating these outrages.

Celia continued sending up silent prayers for the miracle they needed, the miracle that would save Annie’s family, her father and uncle, and Truett too. God was making a way to rescue them, she was sure of it. She only hoped He would hurry, since Sam and Isaac’s time was very short otherwise.

After the passing of perhaps another hour, Grady Skidmore, who’d helped them fell their leaning tree, burst through the door.

Truett moved to the edge of his cell. “What is it?”

Celia’s stomach sank. Had Annie Hartley’s father and uncle been hanged already?

“I’ve got news. And it’s not good, I’m afraid.”

“Let’s hear it.” Mr. Beverly demanded.

“The Hartleys didn’t get lynched. Someone came and rescued them.”

“Who?” Truett asked.

“The hooded horseman.”

“What?” Celia glanced at Truett.How could that be?

“The bad news is that the hooded horseman was . . . well . . . Suggs shot him.”

Celia held her breath as she waited for him to continue.

“Who?” Truett gripped the bars, his knuckles turning white. “Who was it, man?”

“It was Griff.”

Chapter 30

Truett’s heart jolted. Mother cried out, a little shriek, then sank into Father, who held her up and helped her to a chair.

“He was still breathing, last I knew,” Grady added quickly. “He was shot in the shoulder.”

Truett’s knees went weak. But then he grabbed the bars and shook them. “Let me out of here! I have to tend my brother.”

“Where is he?” Father swiped a hand across his chin.

“Suggs’s men are bringing him back to town on a wagon.”

“Suggs will pay for this.” Father’s voice boomed inside the small jail house.