“How are you settling in,” Mr. Gaines asked.
“Comfortably,” Royce replied conscious everyone was listening to what he said. Lydia gave him a friendly smile her eyes telling him to have courage. He had often said those words to the girl over the past week. He gave Lydia a quick wink as if they shared a secret. The rest of the meal went better. The Gaines sisters talked about subjects more congenial to young women while he and Reverend Gaines talked about Junction City and its many citizens.
“I always have a pipe after dinner,” Reverend Gaines said pushing back his chair. “Will you stay for a while?”
Royce stood also. The meal had been deliciously cooked and he had over eaten after days of cooking his own meals. “No thank you,” Royce replied with regret. “A Mr. Layfield has been kind enough to offer to take me hunting this afternoon. If I want to eat three meals a day I have to supplement my teacher’s salary with hunting.” He noticed Reverend Gaines’ sympathetic smile.
“John Layfield,” Faith’s voice was high pitched. A frown puckered lines between her eyes. “Don’t trust the man,” she declared. “He has a mean streak a mile wide.”
“Faith,” Reverend Gaines chastised gasping in surprise. He was shocked by his daughter’s critical announcement.
“It is the truth Father,” Faith stated. “Mr. Hargadon needs to hear the truth if he plans to go hunting with Mr. Layfield.” Faith turned towards the kitchen before her father could tell her she must be charitable. Faith believed her father’s head was too often in the clouds but refrained from saying as much.
“Dear me,” Reverend Gaines said. “I’ve never heard Faith talk as she did now. Dear me,” he repeated.
“I will walk you to the front door,” Imogen offered. More convinced than ever that Faith had taken a liking to the new schoolteacher.
“Mr. Hargadon,” Lydia said shyly.
Royce turned towards the young woman. “Yes Lydia,” he said his voice a soft purr.
Lydia took a deep breath. “Faith is right,” she said turning a bright fiery red. “Don’t trust Mr. Layfield.”
“I won’t,” Royce replied. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Lydia said bowing her head shyly.
Royce extended his arm and Lydia wrapped her hands around it looking up at him with trusting eyes. Faith watched with surprise darkening her brown eyes. Then she heaved a deep sigh confused by her onslaught of conflicting emotions. It could not be jealousy! She barely knew the man. Besides which, Mr. Hargadon was a schoolteacher. He earned very little in the way of a salary and her father expected her to marry wealth. Mr. Hargadon was not a suitable candidate to replace Mr. Cook. On the other hand, Imogen was not the eldest daughter and could marry anyone she chose. Heavy hearted Faith returned to the dining room and started stacking dishes.
Valerie looked up from her task of washing dishes and gave Faith a questioning look. “Mr. Hargadon is nice isn’t he,” she said softly.
“What,” Faith asked. Her mind had been miles away dreaming up dreams that could never come true. Why did it have to be Mr. Hargadon she found attractive. Father would never approve. Approve of what Faith asked. Surely she was not thinking more of Mr. Hargadon than as a suitable husband for Imogen.
Chapter Six
Dressed in a brown checkered shirt and denims Royce strapped on his gunbelt tying the leather thong around his thigh. He removed the revolver, hefted it in one hand before opening the cylinder and checked the load. Six cartridges filled six spaces. Next, he ran his fingers along the back of his gunbelt to make sure each loop contained a bullet. Royce was a man heading into danger and it paid to be cautious. He did not trust John Layfield. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on ends whenever he was around the man. His instincts were working overtime. Lydia was right. John Layfield was a dangerous man. Royce had ridden down this trail before. It was part of his job.
The greater part of his job was facing down desperadoes. The rest was brainwork and Royce found this part of his job the hardest nut to crack. He was a man of action not reflection.
His black hat shading his green eyes, Royce closed and locked the school door. For a moment he stood and watched as a breeze moved children’s swings in the schoolyard. Once again telling himself he was a fool. Instead of concentrating on Layfield his mind had homed in on Faith Gaines. The school swings moving in the breeze reminding him of children playing. He had never thought of marrying. The thought of fathering children scared him worse than the prospects of facing Barlow and his gang of killers all alone. Yet, Faith had set his mind to wondering what it might be like.
Royce crossed the road. Two blocks down he turned west heading towards the back streets of Junction City. At the Blacksmith’s Shop Job Randall was before his forge working. His hammer ringing out as it struck against iron. The man paused in his work and gave Royce a friendly wave. Royce waved back. The road between the Blacksmith’s Shop and Mr. Cook’s Feed and Grain Store was lined with less savory establishments that catered to man’s baser instincts. Hitching rails along the road were filled with horses. Voices floating on the afternoon breeze were often coarse mixed with shrill laughter. Royce hurried pass the saloons glancing in the open doors. Scantly dressed ladies hung onto cowhands’ shoulders. Their painted faces looking like hundreds of other women he had seen over the years. Their
