She stood near Lovey with a towel as they washed the dinner dishes and tidied up. Royal wondered what it would be like to have this treat daily. Sharing evening meals and then the chores that followed before snuggling up together for sleep, or not sleeping, the sacred rituals of the day-to-day. It was a dream that Royal hoped someday could be her reality. But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.
❖
It was dark and just past nine o’clock when they drove toward Royal’s rented room near the center of town. They were almost there when something off to the side caught Royal’s eye. Lovey noticed Royal crane her neck looking toward the dark space near the alley between the old Mill building and Talbot’s Feed Store. Royal eased off the road, cut the engine, and stepped out of the car. Lovey tried to read Royal’s body language, which seemed suddenly tense.
“What is it?” Lovey leaned over from the passenger side trying to peer out the driver’s side door.
“You should stay in the car.” Royal reached into a small space behind the front seat and removed a leather holster and revolver.
“Royal, what’s going on?” Lovey was afraid.
“Everything is going to be okay. And just so you know, I don’t like guns.” Royal removed the revolver and released the cylinder, spinning it to check that it was loaded. “But ever since the other night I’ve felt better having one nearby.”
Sounds of a woman’s voice caught Lovey’s attention as Royal walked away from the car. She could see that there were at least three, no, four figures in the low glow cast from the overhead oil lamp at the corner of the Mill.
Not someone who enjoyed being told what to do, she ignored Royal’s request to stay put. Lovey scooted across the front seat and slid out the door for a closer look. She could make out the shapes of three men and one woman. The lighting wasn’t great, but she could see enough to know the men were white and the young woman, who seemed to be in some distress, was black.
Lovey heard Royal call to the men as she approached. “I think you fellas should move along.” Her voice sounded strong, confident.
Royal had asked her to stay in the car, but curiosity and fear for Royal got the better of her, so Lovey stepped nearer still. She was far enough to be able to make a quick retreat to the parked sedan but close enough to hear the exchange.
One of the men turned at the sound of Royal’s voice. He was rough looking. His face covered with a few days’ growth of beard and his clothes dusty. “This is none of your concern. Leave it be.”
“I’m making it my concern.” Royal kept the gun down at her side, blocked from their view. “Grace, do you need a ride home?”
“Yeah—” The woman started to speak, but one of the men stopped her, placing his hand in the center of her chest and shoving her back against the uneven brick wall of the building. A few more steps and they would have been far enough into the dark alley that Royal wouldn’t have seen them. Lovey suspected that they’d driven by at just the right moment to intervene.
“You know this darkie?” The man spoke again and turned to face Royal while the two other men held Grace against the building. Grace looked to be in her twenties, with a slim, girlish build. Even in the dim light, Lovey could see that one of them was moving his hands up the top of the woman’s blue gingham dress in a far too intimate way.
“You best tell your friend there to take his hand off her before I relieve him of his ability to use it.” Royal had raised the revolver and pointed it at the man who was fondling Grace.
“That’s tall talk for a girl. You think just because you dress like a man that makes you one?” He took a step toward Royal but stopped when he heard the unmistakable click as she cocked the hammer.
“I don’t need to be a man to know how a woman should be treated.”
There was a small scuffle as one of the men reached for the hem of Grace’s dress, and she dropped the small brown bag she’d been carrying to the dirt, needing both hands to fend off his roaming advances. A small whimper escaped Grace’s lips before one of the two men nearest Grace covered her mouth and began shoving her toward the shadows, boldly ignoring Royal’s request.
“Let her go. Now.” Royal took a step toward the group, the pistol held high in front of her.
Lovey was several feet away from the scene that was unfolding, but panic began to settle in her chest. Her heart pounded like she’d just run a foot race, and she was certain her hands were shaking. Royal seemed rock solid. The only evidence that she was at all under duress was the muscle in her jaw that clenched and released each time Grace was touched. Obviously, from the subtle emotion playing across her face, Royal knew this woman and cared about her.
“I said, let her go. And that’s the last time I’m gonna say it before I start shooting kneecaps.”
One of the men closest to Grace looked toward Royal for a moment. His eyes looked bleary; his motions indicated he was probably under the influence of alcohol. He was thinner than the man who’d first confronted Royal, but just as worn out and scruffy looking. His overalls were patched at various spots.
“What are you, some kinda nigger lover?” His speech was slightly slurred, but there was no
