“I’m sorry, Jeremiah. I didn’t mean to spy.” Horror filled his heart. God, how do I handle this without hurting him more? “Come on. Let’s get this room cleaned up. I don’t think you want to spend a week in the middle of this mess.”
“You don’t have to help.” His voice was choked. “I did it. I’ll fix it.”
“But I don’t mind helping. And when we’re done, perhaps you can tell me how you got those scars on your back and who did it to you?”
Jeremiah glared and blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow his warm brown eyes. “None of your business.”
Charles walked over and touched him on the arm. “Yes, it is. Someone has been horribly cruel to you and that certainly is my business.”
Jeremiah blinked and began cleaning the shattered room. In silence they worked side by side until the room showed a semblance of neatness. A pile of refuse in the corner was the only evidence of the rage that had been vented there.
Finally, shoulders sagging, Jeremiah glanced at Charles. “I can’t talk about it. He said he’d hurt someone if I did.”
Charles dragged a chair over with his foot and shoved it toward Jeremiah, then got another one from the corner. When they were both seated, Charles waited.
“Did you hear me? He said he’d hurt someone.”
Charles shoved down the anger that threatened to well up within him at the thought of what someone had put a child through. And from the looks of his scars, it had been going on for some time.
He took a deep breath. “I can understand your fright over the situation, Jeremiah. You’re worried about someone you care about. Evil people who torture children usually use this tactic to keep their victims quiet. And fifty years ago, you’d have had reason to be afraid. But times have changed. There are laws now to protect citizens, especially children, from violence.”
A glimmer of hope shone in Jeremiah’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure. But I need to know who is guilty and who is being threatened.”
“It was my uncle. And he threatened my ma.”
* * *
“It must have been hard for you to hear this, Charles.”
Charles stood from the chair in front of P.H.’s desk and paced the room. “It was. But that doesn’t matter. The important thing is to put that man in jail and put a stop to it.”
“Are you sure that’s possible? At this point, it might be Jeremiah’s word against his uncle’s.”
Charles froze. What if she was right?
Sympathy crossed the director’s face. “Don’t worry. If legal channels don’t take care of the matter, we’ll think of something else.” She tapped her fingers on the oak desk. “If nothing else, we can help Jeremiah’s mother get away from the man.”
“I need to take a trip right away and check on the mother.”
P.H. nodded. “Not alone. I’ll see if Trent can get away.”
“Since he was nine years old, P.H. He’s been going through it that long.” A shudder ran through Charles’s body. “How can anyone be such a monster?”
“I don’t know. But you need to get yourself together before you see Jeremiah again. Why don’t you take a ride over to Olivia’s?”
Charles gave P.H. a quick glance. The thought had already crossed his mind, but why would P.H. think Livvy could calm him?
He rose. “I think I will. Should I stop by Trent’s?”
“No, I’ll talk to him at church tomorrow and find out the soonest he can get away.”
“Send someone to check on Jeremiah, will you?”
“I’ll go myself and take him some lemonade and cookies.”
Relief washed over Charles. P.H. was a tenderhearted and godly woman besides being an excellent director. What had they ever done without her?
* * *
Livvy drowsed in the porch swing, allowing the breeze to move the swing. She really needed to go over her Sunday school lesson one more time, but it was so peaceful to linger here.
She jerked her head up at the sound of horse’s hooves pounding up the drive. Delighted to see Charles, she stepped to the edge of the porch and waited, smiling, while he reined his horse in, dismounted and tied the reins. It was only when he turned and started for the porch that she saw the expression on his face.
Before she could question him, he was on the porch and holding her closely. Shock jolted through her at his nearness and the fact that he’d never done more than hold her hand before. Something was wrong.
She wrapped her arms around him and ran her hand across his back as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Finally, he raised his head. “You must think I’m the biggest crybaby in the world. This isn’t the first time I’ve cried on your shoulder.”