Page 88 of Magnolia Summer

Annie soon joined her kinfolk as they stared at the damaged store. Celia’s heart grew heavy again as she ruminated on the fact that Sheriff Suggs would find out his attempt to burn them out was unsuccessful. He would be furious, and he wouldn’t give up harassing them.

On the way home, Celia’s unease increased with every fall of the horse’s hoofs. What would happen now? Sheriff Suggs was fully aware of Truett’s bravery and willingness to stand up to him. Would he put the pieces together and realize Truett was the hooded horseman?

He would have to be stupid not to.

Celia twisted her hands together in her lap. It was a miracle that she and Truett had been able to put out the fire and that the sheriff hadn’t hurt anyone. But would God give her another miracle, one big enough to save Truett from Sheriff Suggs?

Truett glanced over at her a few times, but Celia pretended not to notice.

They turned down the lane to her house, the trees forming a canopy of limbs and leaves over their heads. Celia began to wonder what she would say to him when he stopped to let her out. She couldn’t say, “Thanks for the drive. I had a lovely time.” Perhaps just “Good-night” would suffice. Her thoughts and emotions were so mixed up inside her she didn’t know what to say.

He stopped the buggy and Celia prepared to jump down, a sudden panic making it impossible to speak.

Truett took her hand and held it tight. “Celia, wait.”

She turned to him. His eyes were red and watery, and soot streaked his face. She must have black smoke marks on her face too, and her hair must be a wild, tangled mess. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

The look of love and vulnerability on his face made her heart trip and stumble into her throat. She shook her head and stared down at his hand holding hers, a big ball of tears pressing against her chest. “I can’t do this. I have to go.”

“Why?”

She simply shook her head, but he still wasn’t letting go of her hand. “I’m terrified. Sheriff Suggs is going to do something terrible to you.” Then an idea struck her. “You must leave this place and get away from Sheriff Suggs—”

“You mean run away?”

“You told me once before that you wanted to run away from here. You could go and stay wherever James is staying. It’s just until something is done about this sheriff. Surely we can get help from the authorities in Huntsville.”

“I can’t just leave, like a coward.”

“And I can’t just sit back and watch you get killed.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and jumped off the buggy seat to the ground. She ran all the way to the porch and up the steps and inside, shutting the door behind her.

The horse and buggy rattled away down the lane.

The ball of pressure pushed against her chest. “I’m sorry, Truett,” she whispered, leaning against the door. “I’m so sorry.”

The creaking of the kitchen floor drew her attention. She turned. Her mother was walking toward her.

Celia straightened and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Mama? Are you all right?”

“Getting a glass of water.”

“Can’t you sleep?”

Mama gazed her questioningly. She stood in her nightgown and bare feet. Celia couldn’t remember ever seeing her mother in bare feet.

“Where are your house shoes, Mama?” Celia started toward her, tears springing to her eyes. She clasped Mother’s hand. The lump in Celia’s throat forced her voice out in a whisper. “Let me get you a glass of water.”

She led her mother into the kitchen and used the pump at the sink, then held the glass out to her. She took it and drank several sips, then handed the glass back to Celia.

Celia led her mother back to her room, pulled the covers back, and waited for her to crawl under the sheet. Then Celia covered her to her chin.

“I’m sorry, Mama, for not being very compassionate to you.”

Mama stared up at her, and Celia caught the tear in her hand that almost dripped on Mother’s sheets. No doubt it would soil them, as sooty as her cheeks must be.

Celia went back to the kitchen and gave her exposed skin a good scrubbing before taking off her dirty dress and going to her own bed. Thankfully, Lizzie didn’t wake, or else she might just tell her exactly what she was thinking—that Truett, the man they’d all fallen in love with, who was so good and brave, would soon be killed. Her heart would be broken, their money would run out, and she’d never be able to support her family by making dresses in Bethel Springs. Only God knew how they were to survive.

Chapter 26