“Now, we’re going to start slowly since this is the first time you’ve handled the reins yourselves. And be sure to do everything I tell you.”
“Okay, Mr. Charles.”
“Okay, Mr. Charles.”
As Jeremiah snorted and shook his head, an idea crossed Charles’s mind. “Listen, Sonny and Tommy. Jeremiah’s an experienced rider, so pay attention to him, too.”
Trepidation hit him. What was he thinking? Their tormentor might be capable of deliberately leading them astray.
A look of surprise crossed Jeremiah’s face, then he tightened his lips and turned his head. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’ve been riding for years. I guess it’s okay if they watch me.”
Charles dipped his head to hide a grin. The boy had deliberately turned so the younger ones couldn’t read his lips. Apparently, he didn’t want to show any signs of softening to them.
To be on the safe side, Charles took a different trail this time, with Jeremiah in the lead and Charles bringing up the rear. He was pleased to see that the older boy was on good behavior, and when they stopped by a creek to stretch their legs, Jeremiah even helped Sonny remount properly and then checked the cinches.
In spite of Sonny and Tommy craning their necks to see into the woods, no cougar was spotted and the ride was uneventful, except for their sighs of disappointment.
Charles was amused when Sonny signed to Tommy, “Maybe we’ll see a cougar next time.”
“Yeah,” Tommy signed back. “Or maybe at least an armadillo or something.”
Dusk was starting to fall when they arrived back in the barn. After taking care of the horses, they headed for the house.
“That’s fried chicken I smell.” Sonny took off running, followed closely by his friends. The two older boys weren’t far behind.
They all washed up and headed for the dining room, where the other children and staff were already seated at the table.
Charles slipped into his chair next to Howard, the boys’ dorm supervisor. They’d no sooner said grace than the serving girls entered. The tantalizing aroma of shrimp and tomato bisque made Charles realize how hungry he was.
The delicious food, as well as the conversation and friendly banter among P.H. and the teachers, made for an enjoyable dinner experience. But when Charles entered his room later, the thoughts he’d held at bay since he arrived back at the school from his time with Livvy came roaring back and, with them, questions and accusations. He must have done something besides asking her not to give the girls riding lessons. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out.
Well, he’d see her at church the next day. Maybe he should ask her outright. After all, he wasn’t a mind reader. He was probably exaggerating the situation in his mind anyway. Yes, that was it. When he saw her tomorrow, she’d be her usual, friendly self and invite him to Sunday dinner. Maybe Mrs. Shepherd would make one of her delicious apple pies. He wouldn’t dare tell Cook, but he was getting a little tired of peach. With the matter settled in his mind, he punched his pillow a few times then yawned and closed his eyes. All was well.
* * *
Livvy settled herself onto the piano bench, smoothing her new skirt across her knees. She’d chosen the cranberry-colored fabric with a print of tan leaves because it reminded her of fall, her favorite season. She fanned herself with her hand. Lord knew it seemed to be taking its time coming to Georgia this year. Adjusting the brand-new hymnal, she glanced toward the door. She’d hoped Charles would be there before she had to seat herself at the piano so she could snub him right away, but so far the Quincy School group hadn’t arrived.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she smiled up into her father’s sparkling eyes.
“I see you’re ready to worship our Lord this morning, daughter.”
Guilt rippled through her, but she managed to nod and widen her smile as he stepped away. Had she even thought of worship this morning? She turned as the door opened and two rows of children from the school walked down the aisle with Charles and the rest of the school staff close behind.
Quickly she faced forward and began to turn pages in the songbook. A glance from the corner of her eyes revealed the object of her ire scooting into the pew next to Jeremiah. Then he looked straight at Livvy. Humph. She’d show him just how important he was to her. He wouldn’t get so much as another glance from her the rest of the morning.
Harley Johnson stepped up onto the platform and opened a songbook. “Good morning, brothers and sisters in the Lord.”
Please, God, have him choose a song I know. There were several in the new book that had been recently published.
“Good morning,” the congregation chorused.