A Touch of Autumn(6)

“Wait, wait.” Olivia smiled. She made the sign for stop, hitting her left palm with the edge of her right hand. “One at a time, please.”

Pretty, blonde, blue-eyed Margaret Long, a little older than the other two girls, took a deep breath and placed both hands on her narrow hips. “It’s like this, Miss Olivia. Did you know the school has started horseback riding classes?”

“No, I didn’t.” Puzzled, she let her gaze roam over each of their faces. “But that sounds like fun. What is wrong with that?”

“They’re only letting the boys take the class.” Trudy’s eyes clouded over and a frown creased her brow. “Do you think that’s fair? We want to ride, too.”

“Oh. Well, did they give you a reason?” Olivia searched around in her mind for wisdom. “Did they think you girls might get hurt?”

“They didn’t give us any reason.” Molly stomped her small foot. “When we asked Mr. Charles if we could take the class, he just told us it is for boys only.”

That sounded unfair to Olivia as well, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions and contribute to rebellion in the girls without talking to Charles first.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll check into it and try to find out why. But I’m not making any promises. He may have a good reason for his decision.” She tried to keep her expression composed. It wouldn’t do for them to see that she was already taking their side. “So can you girls have a good time today and leave the matter to me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they each said in turn. Molly and Trudy headed toward the tables with the basket but Margaret remained standing there.

“Is there something else, Margaret?”

The girl took a deep breath. “If Mr. Charles thinks we’ll get hurt, will you tell him I’ve been riding since I was seven?”

Olivia suppressed a smile. “Yes, I will tell him that.”

Olivia shook her head and smiled as Margaret ran to join her friends, then she walked to the house to fetch another basket of food.

Soon, the makeshift tables groaned beneath the abundance of meats, desserts, side dishes and every kind of pickle and preserve imaginable. Women sent their husbands to the river to fetch the children.

“Here comes the reverend!” The shout was followed by applause, as Papa rode his horse to the barn.

Charles walked up to her. “Don’t forget we’re eating together.”

Pleasure mixed with anxiety shot through her. She hated to ruin their time together by questioning his decision about the girls. But he probably had a good reason. And the girls would need to understand. “I haven’t forgotten.”

As soon as Papa announced that Mrs. Waters was only suffering from indigestion, relieved laughter and applause broke out. He then asked the blessing, and a line quickly formed beside the food-laden tables. Olivia and Charles filled their plates and settled beneath one of the massive live oaks surrounding the church.

Olivia smoothed her skirts around her, making sure her legs and ankles were covered. She sometimes wondered why women’s clothing had to be so complicated.

Charles took a couple of bites of a drumstick and washed it down with a swallow of lemonade.

She’d wait until they finished eating to bring up the subject of the riding class.

Full from the delicious meal, Olivia began to grow drowsy. She jerked her head up and met Charles’s amused gaze. She jumped up and began to gather their plates, silverware and napkins. “Let’s walk along the river.”

“Sounds good. Better not get too close, though, unless you want those ornery boys splashing you.”

She laughed as they put away the dishes and things, then she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “They wouldn’t dare splash their Sunday school teacher.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. They soaked their English teacher last year.” He laughed. “She was mad as a hornet.”

“Oh, yes. I remember. Helen had to go back to the school and change.” She took a deep breath and cut a glance at him. Did it still bother him that Helen had married Mr. Flannigan?

“Was that a sigh I heard?”

She shook her head. “No, not really, but I do have something I need to ask you about.”

“Ask away.” They’d reached the riverbank and he guided her along the path that had been pounded out by hundreds of footsteps over the year.

“Well.” She hesitated. “I’m sure you have a perfectly good reason, but would you mind telling me why the girls are excluded from your riding class?”

He grinned and peered at her. “Oh. You’re serious, aren’t you?”