Two other fellows had stepped into the alley, and Royal just caught a glimpse of them headed her way with a wooden club when she saw Ned intervene.
“Stop! Joe, let me go!” She was trying to break free before the two men descended on Ned, but Joe was too drunk and his reflexes were slow. Plus, his back was turned toward Ned so he couldn’t see what was happening.
Royal saw the one man swing and hit Ned in the side of the head, sending him backward so that he landed against the edge of the raised porch of the Mill.
Royal pushed furiously against Joe just as the man raised the club to swing at Joe. Joe still had one arm around Royal but released her as he blocked the blow with his other arm, then turned and landed a solid left hook under the man’s chin, sending him to the ground.
Royal pushed past the second fellow to where Ned lay motionless on the ground.
“Ned! Ned!” She dropped to her knees beside him.
His eyes were open, but he was deathly still. She tentatively touched the back of his head, and when she pulled her hand away it was covered with blood. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to look back at Joe. He was holding the wooden rod in one hand and the man by the front of his shirt in the other.
All at once, Royal’s foggy brain called forth the memory of these men. They were two of the men who tried to assault Grace that night. They’d obviously come back to settle the score with Royal and instead Ned had gotten in their way.
“Royal? Is Ned—?” Joe held the squirming man firmly as he spoke.
Royal shook her head as tears began to slide down her cheeks.
The second man who’d been standing nearby finally spoke.
“We didn’t mean no harm to the boy. It were an accident. We didn’t mean no harm.” He lingered for a moment and then took off running, leaving his friend behind.
“Help! Help! We need a doctor out here!” Joe was yelling as he pinned the other man against the wall. He was the one who had swung at Ned, and Joe held on to him.
Royal pressed Ned’s limp hand against her cheek. This was all her fault. All her stupid, stubborn, prideful fault.
“Oh, Ned, don’t do this. This can’t be happening.” She laid her ear on his heart, but she heard nothing.
A couple of people from inside the tavern now appeared at the entrance to the alley as a result of Joe’s shouted requests for help. One of them knelt next to Ned and felt for a pulse. The other went to assist Joe with the struggling culprit. Then more people came. Gentle hands pulled Royal away from Ned’s body as several men lifted him into the back of a car.
“They’re gonna take him to Doc’s place, Royal.” June pulled Royal along with an arm around her shoulders. “Come inside, honey. There’s nothing you can do for Ned now.”
Royal looked back as Ned’s lifeless body was carried to a waiting car and laid across the backseat. His head bobbed limply to one side, and someone gently turned it so the car door would shut. June half carried her back inside as the car carrying Ned pulled away.
Chapter Thirty
Lovey saw the postman’s carriage pause near the end of their drive before proceeding. Maybe she’d gotten a letter from Dottie. She’d been missing her friend and longed to catch up with her. Things were going well for Dottie, and Lovey wouldn’t mind basking in the glow of her good fortune for a little while. Even from a distance.
When she reached the post, she saw that there was a letter addressed to her with no return address. The handwriting looked somewhat familiar, and the moment she opened the envelope she knew it was from Royal. She unfolded the ivory paper and turned it over in her hand. There was no note, despite the fact that the name on the envelope had been hers. A single poem had been typed, centered on the page:
Desire’s flame burns my skin
I long for the relief
Only your lips can bring
My body holds a space for you.
Released
Through your window
Into darkness and stiff shrubs
Crossing the dew-laden lawn in sock feet.
Now, settled in my car
I try to imagine my future without you.
I can’t.
I won’t.
What resides in my chest is real
Set against the relentless unreal.
Defying convention.
Only an unfeeling world refuses
To see what we have seen.
Brilliant. Iridescent. Eternal.
Love.
Her hand began to shake so that she could no longer make out the words. Lovey covered her mouth with her other hand as she began to sob silently. Why would Royal send such a poem except to torment her? Did Royal not realize the impact sentiments such as this would have on her?
She folded the letter and shoved it in her pocket.
For a moment, she struggled with what to do. Tightness in her chest made it hard for her to catch her breath. She thought if she walked back into the house she might suffocate.
Lovey began to walk down the road, taking deep breaths, willing the sobs to subside. She was almost to the curve where she’d met Royal that first night before she realized how far she’d gotten. The memory of that night started the sobs again.
She stepped off the road and stumbled down to the edge of the pond where Royal had tended to her bee stings on a blanket spread on the grass. She dropped to the ground, lay on her side, pulled her knees up to her chest, and cried. She had not given herself permission to fully grieve, but now that she’d gone over the edge, she was lost in the sea of it. Her sorrow washed over her again and
