Livvy drew back and peered into his eyes. “I know you’re not a crybaby, Charles. You have always seemed very masculine to me.”
He smiled. “That’s a relief to know. I was beginning to wonder myself.” He ran his thumb down her cheek then led her over to the swing. “But these tears weren’t for me, Livvy.”
“What’s wrong?”
Livvy listened in horror as Charles related the smoking episode. When he went on to tell her about seeing the scars on Jeremiah’s back, she gasped.
“Oh, Charles, how terrible. No wonder the poor boy is so troubled. Did you find out who is responsible?”
“Yes. Jeremiah’s father was killed in a farm accident when the boy was only nine. Shortly afterward, his father’s brother moved in, bag and baggage, and took over the farm as well as his brother’s wife and child. He’s basically held a rod over both their heads in exchange for allowing them to stay in their own home.”
“And he’s beaten them both all this time?” Pain stabbed through her at the thought.
“Jeremiah said he doesn’t think his uncle, Ed, ever laid a hand on his mother. But he thrashed Jeremiah unmercifully for every small offense. Sometimes for no offense at all. Jeremiah’s mother went behind the man’s back to make arrangements for Jeremiah’s enrollment at Quincy. But the uncle threatened the boy with harm to his mother if he ever told anyone about the beatings.”
Livvy couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her lips. “What do you intend to do about it?”
Satisfaction ran through Charles that Livvy knew he’d do something about the situation. “My first instinct was to hop the next train to Severn’s Flat and beat the tar out of the monster. But P.H. convinced me otherwise.”
“I should think she would.”
“She’s going to talk to Trent tomorrow and see how soon he can get away so we can go together. That way we’ll have each other as witnesses in case the man tries to pull a fast one.”
“So what is the plan?”
“I think the first thing we need to do is speak to Jeremiah’s mother, but Trent and I will decide together what further course of action to take. If the sheriff refuses to cooperate, we might need an attorney.”
“But that man won’t get his hands on Jeremiah?” Livvy trembled at the thought.
“No. I can promise you that.”
“What about the farm? Does Jeremiah’s uncle have any legal right to that?”
“I’m not sure what the circumstances are. That’ll be another case for an attorney. It would be nice if they could have it returned to them. But, again, I don’t really know the circumstances. Jeremiah’s father might have willed it to his brother. We’ll have to see.”
He stood and lifted Livvy to stand beside him. “You’re always good for me, Livvy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Warmth slid across her face at the tenderness in his voice and the look in his eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think he loved her. Stop it, Livvy. You do know better. And her feelings didn’t matter now, anyway. Jeremiah’s problem was the only thing that mattered. But as Charles rode away in the dusky twilight, her heart twisted with yearning. If only...
Chapter 11
The busy station teemed with waiting passengers as Charles and Trent stepped down from the train in Rome, Georgia. There was no railway service to Severn’s Flat, so they’d need to rent a couple of horses. They’d come prepared, the few belongings they’d need in saddlebags now thrown over their shoulders. Charles readjusted his as they walked down the dusty street.
They found the livery stable around the corner from the depot. Within moments, they had gotten directions to the small community of Severn’s Flat.
The scrawny, bearded man running the livery leaned against the door frame and scratched his chin. “Now, purty soon, you’ll come acrost this here sign where the road veers off two ways. The way the sign pints leads to the feed store and grocer in Severn’s Flat. Don’t go that way. Take the other d’rection and ye’ll end up at the Saunders’ farm.”
They headed out of town and soon saw the sign veering in two directions.
Charles grinned and motioned down one branch of the road. “The sign’s pintin’ that way so I reckon we best go the other.”
“I reckon.” Trent laughed. “I love the colorful speech of this region. It’ll be lost one day.”
Tense with anticipation of what might happen at the Saunders’ farm, Charles tried to relax by enjoying the fall colors. Seemingly overnight, flaming reds and oranges had sprung forth. They wouldn’t last long, though. A couple of weeks, maybe, then the first hard rain would knock them off their branches to carpet the ground.