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Authors: Elizabeth Courtright

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SEVEN

“Think, Constance!” Trent Emerson demanded. “Did he ever mention anything about the Klan getting together, or having a meeting?”

Constance shook her head. “No, as I told you already, the only thing Harry ever said about the Klan was that he used to be in it.”

She was in the Emerson’s parlor, with Trent and Emily, as well as Trent’s sister, Jessica and her husband Julien Grace. Constance had come, as promised, as soon as school let out. The first thing Emily had wanted to know, before she’d even introduced Constance to the Graces, was whether anything untoward had happened with Harry last evening. Nothing had. Harry had driven her home and he’d been a perfect gentleman. They’d even made it before the storm hit. He’d walked her to the door, then left.

For the last hour, however, Trent had been drilling her. Because of a note that had been left with Luther’s body—a note from the Ku Klux Klan—Trent and Julien believed one of the three men who had recently been released from prison was responsible for Luther’s death. Harry was one of those three. Despite Constance’s conviction that bashful, timid Harry couldn’t possibly have done something so atrocious, her stomach was in knots all over again.

Adding to her upset was that one of the other suspects, Edward Murphy, was the father of her student, Archie Murphy. She had believed Archie was an orphan, but she’d been wrong. Upon his release, Edward Murphy had returned to his farm—the farm Archie’s siblings had been running for the last nine years. Archie had said nothing about his father coming home, but what was even more disturbing were the marked changes she’d noticed in his behavior. They’d begun about three weeks ago, just after the former Klansmen were released.

The third man Trent and Julien spoke of was named David Houser. Supposedly, upon his release, he’d traveled to Pulaski, a town several miles southwest of Mount Joy. Trent and Julien believed David Houser had gone to that particular town because the former leader of the Klan, a man they referred to as Stone, lived there. From enquiries Trent had made, neither David Houser nor Stone had been seen in or near Mount Joy in the last month. This meant that, of the three, David Houser was the least likely to have committed the heinous act. Edward Murphy and Harry Simpson were the primary suspects.

“Who are Harry’s friends? Who does he get together with? Whose homes does he visit? Tell me the names. Has he ever gone to Murphy’s farm?” Trent barked.

“I don’t know.” Constance’s hands were wringing. “He’s never spoken of any friends, and he’s never said anything about Edward Murphy.”

“You said you weren’t with Harry last Friday evening? Do you know where he went? Did he tell you anything about his plans for the night?”

“No. He didn’t say anything,” she stuttered. “I don’t know where he was.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Trent. Leave her alone,” Emily glowered. “And Julien, how can you let this go on? Of all people, I thought you would have more tact.” Shaking her head she stood up and said, “Constance, Jessica, I think it’s time we retire to the morning room where the company will be much more pleasant. Come along, troops.”

By troops, Emily meant the children. In addition to Trent and Emily’s three, Julien and Jessica had two. Their son, Jules, was a year younger than Daniel, and their daughter, Lauren, still a toddler. The boys, of course, were not in the house. They were outside playing cowboys, or soldiers, or one of a myriad of other games young boys played.

Constance was thankful Emily had intervened on her behalf, and glad for the change of scenery. In the morning room, between the little girls’ antics and other less stressful topics, mostly provided by Emily’s chatter, she was finally able to let the air out of her lungs. The distraction of taking care of little Mary helped, too.

She was still holding Mary, who had blissfully fallen asleep, when Emily chortled, “Jessie, you have to tell Constance the story of how you and Julien fell in love. If you don’t, Constance will think Julien is as bullheaded as Trent. Let me tell you, Constance, Julien’s not like that at all. When we first met him, both Jessie and I thought he was so dashing. Of course, he still is. But just wait until you hear what he did to Jessie!”

Constance already knew the story. Emily had told it to her more than once. At first, Jessica balked over Emily’s suggestion—one thing Constance had noticed right off, Jessica wasn’t nearly as gregarious as Emily—but eventually she gave in. Perhaps because Jessica, rather than Emily, was the one doing the telling, all too soon Constance found herself on the edge of her seat.

Later, when they joined Trent and Julien for dinner, Constance couldn’t stop staring. Julien was such a gentleman in manners, attentive to Jessica, teasing with Emily, a little silly with the children, but understanding of Trent’s bear-like mood.

Julien was the same man who, night after night, had dressed in black, a kerchief hiding his face, racing through the countryside on a mighty stallion, dispatching Klansmen and leading victims to safety. No one had been able to identify him, not even Jessica. He’d been known throughout the community solely as
the spook
.

Constance was still trying to hide her not-so-surreptitious glances when she noticed the hour and decided she’d better head home.

It took a while to get through the farewells, especially with the little ones. Daniel wanted to know if Jules could come to school, even though he wasn’t a regular student and didn’t live in Mount Joy. Apparently the idea had just come to them. Constance could only imagine the trouble the two would get into together. Even so, she couldn’t say no. Both boys stormed out whooping and hollering, announcing they were going to catch fireflies. Of course, Rebecca and Lauren wanted to catch fireflies too, and that meant Lucy, the young woman who looked after them, had to go along. But Lucy was nowhere to be found. Once Jessica took the children away to look for Lucy, Constance was finally able to slip out.

She was almost through the house, by the rear entrance, when Emily caught up to her.

“I’ll walk to the barn with you,” Emily said. “My legs will atrophy if I sit in that parlor one more minute. It seems like that’s all we’ve done for the last four days. And if I have to listen to Trent and Julien talking about the nasty Klan one more minute, I swear I’ll scream.”

Constance smiled. She was used to Emily’s exaggerations. “Your family is wonderful. I’m glad I finally got to meet them.”

“Julien is a handsome devil, isn’t he?” Emily’s eyes sparkled as she stuck her arm through Constance’s and drew her through the door and onto the white pebbled path—a quite long path—that led to the stable yard.

Constance prayed the setting sun hid her blush. To think that Emily had noticed her staring at Julien was embarrassing enough. She could only hope no one else had.

“Wait ’til you meet his brother, Etienne,” Emily went on. “He’s expected later tonight—that is, if the train arrives on schedule, which it never does. My goodness, but that man… he is something! And so tall.” She blew out a breath. “I can’t wait until you see him. Then you’ll understand why Jessie and I are both half in love with him.”

For a second Constance was taken aback, but of course Emily was teasing. Playing along, Constance scoffed, “Emily! What will Trent say?”

Emily giggled. “It’s too bad, you know. Etienne is such an influential man, so successful and distinguished. He’s the superintendent at the military academy in Arlington, Virginia. Not only that, but he’s so good with children. Jessie and Julien’s kids adore him. So do mine, even though they don’t see him as often. They all call him Uncle Eddy. It’s a shame he isn’t married and has none of his own. Jessie says it’s hopeless. As much as she would like to see him settle down, she doesn’t think he ever will.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Constance blurted.

Emily laughed. “Good question. But you’re right, there must be something.”

There was something wrong with all men, something they kept hidden, something that only asserted itself in private with their wives. That is, except for Trent Emerson, because Constance knew Emily liked being alone with him. On the surface Jessica appeared happy—her story certainly made it seem like she was—but what if it was a front? Lots of women put on an act in public. Constance’s own mother had been a prime example of that. While growing up, Constance hadn’t realized it. She’d figured it out once she’d been married herself. What if, behind closed doors, Julien Grace was just like…

“Do you know that years before she met Julien, Jessica had a crush on Harry Simpson? She felt sorry for him,” Emily chattered on. “Funny, isn’t it? After what he did with the Klan, he doesn’t deserve pity. He may have served his time in prison, but Trent’s right, and I’m worried about you. Had I realized Harry was courting you, I would have warned you right off. That man is a little weasel, and you shouldn’t trust him.”

Constance frowned. “Don’t worry, I’m—”

“Wouldn’t it be dreamy if you and Etienne hit it off?” Emily kept going. “You and he would make a wonderful couple. You’re both tall and attractive so you’ll look good together. You’re both teachers. You like to read, and to ride. Why, you already have a great deal in common!”

Constance smiled wryly and finished what she’d wanted to say before, “I’m a confirmed spinster. It goes with being a teacher.”

“The consummate bachelor and the confirmed spinster,” Emily chortled. “A perfect match!”

As they neared the immense stable yard, the sounds of Daniel and Jules’s giggles could be heard. The boys were inside the barn, and the gas lamps had been lighted.

“So much for catching fireflies,” Emily scoffed. “Now what do you think they’re up to? At least Wally’s in there. They can’t get into too much trouble with him around.”

A second later, still with Emily’s arm tucked under hers, Constance stepped through the large double doorway. And froze.

She forgot about Emily. She didn’t see Wally, or the two stable boys, or the other white man in military uniform, either. She didn’t see her mare, Izzy, or any of the other stalled horses. She didn’t see Daniel or Jules. Their laughter no longer resounded. The only noise reverberating through her skull was a blood-curdling scream.

It was George!

George, who’d died and been buried, was standing in the middle of the Emerson’s barn! George, with his back to her, just as tall and broad, with the same dark, wavy hair, was less than twenty feet away. George, who would take her back to Maryland, to that other life…

George spun, as if as startled by her presence as she was by his, but Constance couldn’t look at him. She tried to move, to get away, but her legs wouldn’t work. She couldn’t breathe, and someone was yanking on her arm. In that one infinitesimal second everything went black.

EIGHT

“Miss Pruitt? Are you okay, Miss Pruitt?” Daniel’s young voice broke through the haze in Constance’s head. He was there, on his knees beside her.

Emily was there too, on the other side, leaning over her, waving a fan. “Constance? My goodness, Constance.”

She was lying on shreds of hay… on the floor of the barn, and there were voices—male voices—murmuring, but Constance couldn’t see who was speaking. She couldn’t see anything except Emily’s fan, madly whipping back and forth, dousing her face with puffs of air.

And that was okay, because she didn’t want to see past Emily’s fan. Like this, she couldn’t see George. She knew though, that he was still there.

Constance didn’t see the men until Emily closed the fan. There were three of them, and they were staring at her. One was Wally. The other was a young man with sandy blond hair, his expression as anxious as Wally’s. By his uniform he was a lieutenant. Between them was a tall man, a colonel, with dark wavy hair, and the most striking face she’d ever seen. He was so stunning, she almost forgot about George.

Where was George?

Constance closed her eyes, and reality returned. George wasn’t here. He was dead, buried, gone forever. He couldn’t take her back to Maryland. He could do nothing to her ever again…

“Constance, are you alright?” Emily repeated.

When Constance opened her eyes, that man—the stunning man—was there on his haunches next to Daniel. She scrambled to sit, realizing as she did so that her skirt had hiked up, leaving one of her knees exposed. Thankfully her stockings were in good repair. Hastily she pushed the skirt down.

“Not so fast,” the striking colonel murmured. His eyes, a deep chestnut shade, flickered in the dim light. “Let me help you.”

He’d taken his glove off and was holding his hand out, not forcing her to take it, not grabbing, just patiently waiting for her to be ready. Never had Constance felt anything so calming as that simple gesture. She’d never seen anything quite as intriguing as those long fingers waiting for hers, either. Their eyes met again as Constance settled her hand into his open palm. The warmth of him surrounded not just her fingers. It buzzed up her arm, through her torso and into her head. She felt that miniscule touch all the way to her toes.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asked, his tone deep and resonant. “You don’t feel faint any longer?”

Constance could only shake her head. Her voice was caught somewhere inside her throat. And then she could have sworn somehow he lifted her up. She barely felt herself rise, yet a moment later she was on her feet. The next thing she knew the colonel’s hold loosened, and like feathers, his fingers trickled away.

“Miss Pruitt,” Daniel said, eyes popping, “you screamed.”

“Did I?” she squeaked.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed. “What on earth scared you so badly?”

The colonel turned to Emily and murmured, “I believe it was me.”

No! It wasn’t you!
It couldn’t have been you!
Constance wanted to shout, but she couldn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to be afraid of Uncle Eddy,” Daniel offered. “I know he’s big, but he’s real nice. He wouldn’t ever hurt nobody.”

With that, the sweet boy reached over and took her hand, as if he knew how bereft and cold her limb had become without
Uncle Eddy’s
hold. If this was indeed ‘the Etienne’ Emily had teased her about, he wasn’t Daniel’s uncle. He was Julien Grace’s brother. He was Jules’s uncle, not Daniel’s.

Those were the inane thoughts in Constance’s mind when Emily said, “Constance, let me introduce Etienne. Colonel Etienne Grace, this is Constance Pruitt, Daniel’s schoolteacher, and a close friend. Etienne, we didn’t expect you until later tonight.”

“Our train arrived earlier than scheduled.” Etienne grinned. The sudden lines in his cheeks and creases beside his eyes were as mesmerizing to Constance as his touch had been. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Miss Pruitt,” he said softly.

“It’s really
Missus
Pruitt, Uncle Eddy,” Daniel said. “Miss Pruitt’s married.”


Was
married,” Emily cut in, throwing a glare at her son. “Constance’s husband died several years ago.”

“My apologies, ma’am.” Graciously Etienne Grace inclined his head.

“Thank you,” Constance stammered. “And, and I…I’m sorry.” All this fuss—and Emily’s pointed correction of her marital status—was humiliating enough. Constance couldn’t believe she’d fainted. Over a hallucination, of all things! She’d never fainted in her life. More than anything she wanted to get Izzy and ride off, away from the prying eyes.

Her wishes, however, were not to be. Right then Trent burst into the barn, bellowing, “Em! Emmy!”

He came to such a screeching halt Julien almost careened into him. As it was, young Jules, who was behind them, barreled into his father. Apparently when Constance fainted, young Jules had run to the house for help. Julien had to catch his son by the shoulders and plop him on his feet.

“Em? What’s going on? What happened? We heard the scream.” Trent was breathing heavily.

So was Julien, making it obvious they’d just run all the way from the house. Not too far behind them, Constance saw Jessica and Lucy, surrounded by the rest of the little ones, rushing across the lawn as well.

“It wasn’t Aunt Emily, Uncle Trent. I told you already. It was the teacher lady.” Jules pushed through the adults until he was front and center, and pointing one decisive index finger. “
She’s
the one who screamed and fell over.”

“It was a rat. A big one. Right over there,” Etienne waved absently toward a shadowy corner. “Wally chased it out, but Trent, you might want to consider investing in more barn cats. That thing was so nasty it made me yell, too. And Sam here had to climb halfway up the loft ladder to get away.”

Etienne winked, the motion so subtle and concise, Constance almost missed it. But his teasing was enough to dispel the tension. What followed were greetings with handshakes and slaps on the back, and more introductions. The sandy-haired lieutenant, Constance learned, was Etienne’s adjutant. More intriguing, however, was the attention Etienne paid to Jessica Grace.

Their embrace lingered and he murmured, “I’m so sorry about your daddy, sweetie.” Then he kissed her on the forehead. As Jessica stepped back, and Constance noticed the mist in her eyes, she realized she’d been staring. Quickly she turned away, although not without having to swallow the emotion thickening her own throat.

To further distract herself, Constance turned to Daniel. Lowering to his level, she said quietly, “Thank you for helping me. It was gentlemanly of you.”

As if her comment was the silliest thing he’d ever heard, Daniel retorted, “You’re my teacher.”

Constance couldn’t resist giving him a hug. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you yet, but I want you to know how sorry I am about your grandpa.”

“The funeral is tomorrow. That’s when he gets buried in the cemetery. Momma and Daddy said I could go back to school on Monday, after the funeral,” Daniel said.

“Yes, you and Jules will come, and that’s good, but right now, it’s more important for you to be with your family. And you have to remember to be especially nice to your daddy and Aunt Jessica. Your grandpa was
their
daddy, so they’re very sad right now.”

“I know.” Daniel nodded, and with wisdom that far exceeded his years, said, “I’m gonna miss Grandpa lots and lots, but if my daddy died I would cry a lot more.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Trent announced the entourage should head back to the house, dusk had turned into full darkness. For Constance, traveling the short two miles to the schoolhouse grounds at night wasn’t a concern, but Emily wouldn’t hear of it.

“You need an escort,” she said sternly. “Don’t forget you just fainted. What if you faint again on the road? You’ll fall off that mighty horse of yours, and then what will become of you? Etienne, take a look at Constance’s mare. She’s a beast, isn’t she?”

“Really, I’ll be fine,” Constance insisted.

While the family and its company had continued their welcomes, thinking it would be rude for her to depart, Constance had stood off to the side, not partaking so much as observing, and she’d been content in that pose. Now, however, Emily was turning her once more into the center of attention. Emily meant well, but Constance was mortified that her friend had called out Etienne specifically.

Throughout the brief gathering, he hadn’t said a word to her. He hadn’t even spared her a glance, but then again, he’d been too preoccupied with Lauren, Rebecca and the baby. He’d spent most of his time talking to them. In fact, he was still holding little Mary in his arms. The baby was gazing up at him and happily gurgling as he sauntered closer. But he wasn’t looking at Constance’s horse, like Emily had told him to do. His eyes were directly on Constance.

“Wally will drive you home,” Trent piped in, and then seemed oblivious to the exasperated glance Emily threw at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wally said. “I’ll hitch up the buggy right away.”

“I appreciate it. Really, I do. But it’s not necessary,” Constance interjected. “Izzy’s already saddled and ready to go.”

“I wouldn’t mind a ride,” Etienne said. “After two days stuck on the train, my horse could use the exercise. And so could I.”

Around his shoulder, Emily’s eyes flashed. “What a wonderful idea! You know, there was a time it would’ve been improper for a single young lady to be escorted by a gentlemen unchaperoned, but we don’t worry so much about that these days. And Constance, I will vouch for Etienne. You don’t have to be concerned about him. He’s always a gentleman.”

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Etienne said to Emily as he handed the baby over, and Constance could have sworn there was a hint of mockery in his tone. But then he turned to his adjutant and said seriously, “Sam will see to our luggage and get my things settled inside.”

Like Constance, the lieutenant had spent most of the time on the outskirts of the group. He’d kept busy brushing down his and Etienne’s mounts, but as soon as Etienne addressed him, he came to attention. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it, sir,” he said.

“Oh no!” Emily exclaimed, shoving her daughter at Trent. “I didn’t think! And Etienne, your telegram didn’t say you were bringing your adjutant with you. Not that we mind having you, Lieutenant. We’re glad you’re here. It’s just the only remaining guest room is such a mess, it will take Lucy all night to set it to rights, and she’s already worn to the bone from chasing after the children all day.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Emerson,” Sam said. “I can stay out here in the loft. I don’t mind.”

“Absolutely not!” Emily shrieked. “I won’t hear of that. We’ll make it work. We’ll move Jules in with Daniel. The boys would prefer that anyway. Of course they won’t get a wink of sleep. They’ll be up all night scheming and making a racket. The two of them together are pure terror. This is why I put Jules in a separate room to begin with—”

“Missus, I ’ave a suggestion,” Wally interrupted humbly. “My Sadie jus’ finished cleanin’ out one o’ da houses for Mista Trent’s new boy. But since he ain’t showed up yet, ain’t nobody usin’ it. If’n da lieutenant don’t mind, he could stay dere.”

“Oh, Wally, what would we do without you? Or Sadie.” Emily teetered on her tiptoes for a second. “Lieutenant, it’s a lovely cottage. And you’ll have your privacy there. No little urchins will be running around, screaming and hollering and waking you up in the morning, either. We’ll expect you at the big house for meals, of course. And there’s always plenty in the kitchen, even if you do miss a meal. Wally, will you check with Sadie to make sure everything’s in order and the bed linens are fresh?”

“Yes, Missus,” Wally murmured.

“Good. That’s settled,” Etienne cut in. To Constance, he said, “Give me a moment to ready Igore.”

Constance had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and not just because of how abruptly Etienne had ended Emily’s blathering.

Soon enough, the rest of the group, including the adjutant, were on their way to the house, while Constance and Etienne rode out into the yard. Constance was glad for darkness. She was sure the heat that had risen on her cheeks when Etienne helped her onto Izzy was still present. He’d taken her up at the waist, his large hands spanning her almost all the way around, to lift her so effortlessly it had felt like she’d floated—the same way she had when he’d taken her hand to draw her to her feet.

Etienne set an easy pace and Constance was happy to follow at his side. They hadn’t gone far down the road when, above the steady clip clop of hooves and distantly chirping crickets, he said, “I trust you’re feeling better? You’re not going to suddenly tip over off that pretty mare, are you?”

He was teasing, and Constance was glad of it. “No, but I’m still embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I will have to say though, that was new for me. I can’t recall ever making someone scream before, at least not upon first seeing them.”

“I don’t recall ever screaming upon first seeing someone before,” she countered. “Or fainting. I’ve never done that before, either.”

“Hmm, so I can’t blame Igore here? It really was me?”

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