Page 54 of Magnolia Summer

“Oh, child, what would we want with coffee on a hot day like today? Don’t even mention it.” Granny Lula Mae fanned herself with the homemade fan she’d brought with her. Then she leaned over and spat into a tin can lined with an old handkerchief.

Celia forced herself not to let her expression show her disgust at the snuff-dipping habit. Why would anyone want to put that smelly brown powder inside their mouth so that it distorted their face, and then have to carry a cup around all day in which to spit the foul-smelling juice?

“Celia, any news about the notices you put in the newspaper?” Ruby asked. “Has anyone come to buy the place?”

Just then Mama came to the door. Its hinges screeched lazily, and she stepped out onto the porch.

“News? No.” Celia squirmed on her hard wooden chair and gave Ruby a pointed look. She shook her head.Please change the subject.

Ruby stared at her, then Mama.

Mama’s hair stood out from her head like she hadn’t brushed it in days, which she probably hadn’t. She stared blandly at their guests, then sat down in the remaining empty chair.

“Hey there, Mrs. Wilcox. You’re shore looking good today.”

Granny Lula Mae’s pitying, sing-song greeting gave Celia a sinking feeling along with a pang of guilt at the realization that perhaps she should pay more attention to her mother and at least brush her hair for her.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” Granny Lula Mae reached over and patted Mama’s arm with a wrinkled, age-spotted hand.

“Fine.” Mama nodded, a slightly puzzled look in her eyes.

“Now don’t you be worried. You got a fine boy in Will, and you’re still young. You might marry again.”

Celia’s heart stopped. Would Mama start crying? Would she scream at the old woman? But Mama simply gave Granny a slightly annoyed look, folded her hands in her lap, and stared out across the front yard.

Ruby must have seen it as a good time to change the subject, because she said, “Celia, have you seen the wanted posters? The ones with the hooded horseman on them?”

“The hooded horseman? Oh, yes, I saw one.”

“I’ve heard tell that he stopped a group of men from hanging a black man. He cut the rope with a rifle bullet and they both escaped from a dozen men, all armed.”

Celia leaned forward, feeling intrigued in spite of herself. “Why would he do that?”

“Didn’t want them men to hang him, I reckon.” Ruby shrugged. “But if you ask me, he should have let them hang him.”

“But what if he was innocent?” That’s what Truett believed. “A man shouldn’t be hanged if he hasn’t had a trial. It’s against the law.”

Ruby’s eyes were big and round. “I heard it was the sheriff who was hanging him. Should a man keep the sheriff from hanging a black man if he’s a mind to?”

“Well, yes, if the sheriff hasn’t made sure the man had the benefit of a trial.” Celia sat straighter in her chair when she realized Ruby thought the sheriff should be able to do anything he wanted. “A sheriff is entrusted to uphold the law, not invent it. That’s against federal statutes.”

Ruby’s mouth hung ajar as she stared at Celia with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“The sheriff shouldn’t set himself up as the judge, jury, and executioner. It isn’t right. What if the man was innocent and it could be proven in a court of law?”

“Well, I reckon you’re right, Celia, but don’t let anybody hear you say that about Sheriff Suggs.”

“If the Negro’s guilty,” Granny Lula Mae spoke up, “he ought to be hanged, says I.”

“That’s for a judge and jury to decide.” Celia tried to keep her voice at a respectful level and tone, since Granny Lula Mae was her elder and Celia didn’t want to offend her. But who might the hooded horseman be? Was he simply someone who didn’t want this sheriff to get away with killing a man who hadn’t had a fair trial? Or did he know the man in question and want to save him because he was innocent?

Celia’s mind flashed back to the day she’d arrived in Bethel Springs. She’d sat on Truett Beverly’s buggy seat, seen fury flash in his eyes when he told her that James Burwell was his friend and would never hurt a woman. Truett wouldn’t have allowed the sheriff to hang James Burwell. He would have stopped him.

Was it possible . . .? Was Truett Beverly the hooded horseman?

Chapter 16

Celia’s blood roared in her ears. Surely she was being silly, jumping to a ridiculous conclusion. How could Truett Beverly, the town doctor, be this notorious hooded horseman? But she couldn’t get the thought out of her head.