Smiling grimly Royce stepped over the windowsill and closed the window. He lit another match cupping the flame with his hand. Along the porch floor were muddy boot tracts. He would have to do something about them before leaving. He striped off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. He was shivering by the time he pulled his coat back on. Then using his shirt he carefully wiped away any signs of his presence.
Royce walked to the corral and slipped between the rails. He walked across the enclosure backwards rubbing out his boot prints as he went. What he needed now was a good downpour to settle the ground. Looking up at the sky Royce saw a waning moon masked by dark clouds. A moment later a few drops of rain dampened his face. Maybe some one up there was on his side after all. By the time Royce reached his school rain was falling once more.
In his rooms Royce fed wood into the kitchen stove and put coffee on to boil. He peeled potatoes and added cooked venison to the pan to make stew. As his meal cooked he rinsed out his shirt and hung it off the back of his kitchen chair to dry. All this time, wondering what significance he should place on Miss Ferguson being away. It was another piece to the mystery of George Dean’s death and the identity of Frank Barlow.
Stretched out on top of his bed Royce felt a jab in his back. Getting up he looked at the spot. “A pencil? How did that get here.” Royce’s eyes swept over the room. Nothing seemed out of place. Yet now that he was aware of the fact. He plainly saw someone had been through his belongings. Leaning over he slipped his fingers inside his left boot and felt his Marshal’s badge. Paying meticulous attention he went through his belongings. Whoever searched his rooms had placed his books on the bed not noticing the pencil between the pages had rolled out. Nothing was found to be missing.
* * * * *
“Is the man going to take me away,” Laurie asked. She pouted trying hard not to cry. Her blue eyes sparkled in a pale face.
“The man? Do you mean Mr. Hargadon? No one is going to take you away,” Faith comforted the child. She placed one hand on Laurie’s shoulder. “Why do you think Mr. Hargadon is going to take you away?”
“He wears a star like,” Laurie paused and screwed up her features into a deep frown. Then she placed one hand over her heart. “Sheriff. . . . the man that was here today.”
“Sheriff Walden,” Faith asked. “You know Mr. Hargadon. You have seen him before.”
Laurie bobbed her head up and down her eyes never leaving Faith’s face. Big tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks dripping off her chin. “Is he going to take me away,” Laurie asked again reaching for Faith’s hand and squeezing it tightly.
“No Dear. Mr. Hargadon is not here to take you away.” This was a problem Faith had not foreseen. “Do you know what a secret is,” she asked kneeling down in front of Laurie. In some ways Laurie was older than her seven years.
Laurie shook her head no. The child was clearly puzzled.
“A secret is something you know but must not tell anyone,” Faith replied hoping Laurie understood what she was explaining. “Mr. Hargadon wearing a badge is a secret. No one must know. There are bad men that would hurt him if they knew. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Laurie replied. “Are they the same bad men that hurt pa,” she asked. She looked trustingly at Faith.
“I don’t know,” Faith answered truthfully, “Maybe. Anyhow we must not let anyone know about Mr. Hargadon having a badge. Can you keep his secret?”
“Oh yes,” Laurie answered proudly.
“Good,” Faith replied. “You must remember to say Mr. Hargadon is the schoolteacher. Now let’s see if Mother needs our help in the kitchen.”
Standing on a kitchen chair placed next to Faith. Laurie said, “I know how to make biscuits. I can make coffee,” she breathed deeply before continuing. “I’m not much good at peeling potatoes. But, I can sort beans and know I have to keep adding water while they cook so they don’t stink.”
Faith smiled. A seven year old should not know so much about cooking. Had responsibility stolen away most of Laurie’s childhood. “Do you want to help,” Faith asked and was rewarded with a tremendous smile from the child.
“What does schoolteacher mean,” Laurie asked.
Mary Gaines turned towards the child. “Are you talking about Mr. Hargadon,” she asked.
“Mr. Hargadon came by. He wanted to know the names of the School Board Members,” Faith replied. “I told Laurie that he is the new schoolteacher.”
“What is a schoolteacher,” Laurie asked again.
“Do you know what a school is,” Mary asked.
“No ma’am,” Laurie replied.
Mary sat on one of the kitchen chairs and pulled Laurie towards her. “A school is where young boys and girls go to learn how to read and write.”
Laurie scrunched up her face in concentration. Her eyes turned midnight blue. “What is read,” the child asked.
“Good heavens,” Mary said in astonishment. “Forgive me,” she said softly placing one arm around Laurie. “I should not be surprised. After all, I am a Minister’s wife. I should know about a fallen world and the fact very few men place value on an education. If it was left up to men we would all go around . . . well we would all go around not knowing how to read or write,” she finished not being able to voice what she truly thought. Her sentiments would shock even Faith.
A chair was added at the dining table.
