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rumors and gossip.”
“I’ve heard the talk,” Dwight said. “And it doesn’t sound like rumors to me.”
Kirby turned to Nate. “You know what really happened. You grew up here. Jess was a good friend of yours, wasn’t he?”
Despite herself, Sarah’s ears perked up.
Nate put down his fork and chuckled. “I can’t say it was all Jess’s doing. We were both pretty wild back then. But we were just kids.”
“So it’s true?” Sarah asked. “The stories about the shooting and drinking and...other things.”
“Yeah, they were all true.” Nate laughed again.
“I say it’s disgraceful,” Fiona said.
Dwight thumped his fist on the table. “For all the joking we do about Buck Neville, at least we don’t have those problems in town now. It’s safe for decent, law-abiding people.” He cast a sidelong glance at Sarah. “Of course, a man would still want to protect his woman himself.”
Sarah turned away, avoiding his eyes.
“Alma Garrette told me Jess Logan was into all kinds of trouble even after he left Walker.” Fiona pursed her lips. “And to think, someone like him is raising Cassie Hayden’s children.”
“Fiona,” Emory cautioned. “The Lord stands in judgement, not we ourselves.”
“Of course.” She dipped her eyes contritely. “But, look at how well Cassie did for herself after her husband ran off. Teaching, caring for those children, always helping out any neighbor who needed it. She even bought that nice house and kept it up herself. And don’t you think it would have been easier for her if Jess Logan had been here to help? Where was he when his sister needed him?”
Dwight nodded. “You do have to wonder about a man like him raising those two children all alone. A man with his past.”
“I heard he turned his back on Walker and everybody in it years ago,” Fiona said. “Took off. And hadn’t been heard from until Cassie passed on. Now, I ask you. Is that the right thing to do?”
“There’s something you should know about Jess.” Nate wiped his mouth and laid his napkin aside. “Back when we were kids, Jess lost almost his whole family in a fire. His ma and pa, his two sisters and little brother. He was only twelve years old. Just he and Cassie got out of the house alive. His pa picked him up, threw him out the window. He’s got a scar on his arm where the glass cut him. Must be pretty hard, looking at a thing like that every day of your life, remembering the screaming and the flames.”
Everyone at the table fell silent. Sarah’s heart pounded.
“Cassie settled in with the Newton sisters here in town but they wouldn’t take Jess. He got passed around from one family to another. He got worse every time, too, and that just got him handed around more and more. He never had a home or a family. Never had anything he could call his own. Not after the fire.”
Sarah’s heart squeezed nearly to a stop. At that moment she wanted to take Jess in her arms and hold him close, take away all the pain and misery he’d suffered. The feeling nearly overwhelmed her.
“So that’s why he’s here,” Kirby said softly. “He doesn’t want the same thing to happen to Maggie and Jimmy.”
“Good intentions don’t make good actions. What’s best for those children is what’s important.” Dwight nodded curtly.
“But all of that happened so long ago,” Sarah said. “He certainly could have changed.”
A hush fell over the table. Fiona’s brows arched. “Talk like that will do you no good, Sarah. After all, you have a position in the community to maintain. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
Sarah felt her cheeks flush. “No. Of course not.”
A schoolteacher’s job hung by the slender thread of her reputation, her reputation as perceived by the school board and the townspeople. They wouldn’t entrust the minds of their children to just anyone. Sarah knew she had to be careful, particularly where Jess Logan was concerned.
Dwight thumped his fist on the table. “That Logan fella may have good intentions, but I doubt he’ll be around for long. Probably will take off again, just like he did before.”
Sarah squirmed in her chair. She’d had enough of this conversation.
“Make plans now to come to the school a week from this Saturday,” she said. “I’m planning a pie social that afternoon and everyone’s invited.”
“Pie, huh?” Nate smiled broadly. “Count on me. I’ll be there.”
Sarah smiled. “Good. I’ll put you down for an apple cobbler.”
Everyone chuckled as Nate blushed. “I can’t bake anything. But I know a certain restaurant in town where I can get something good to bring.”
Kirby swatted him on the arm. “Mighty sure of yourself, Nate Tompkins.”
“I just know good pie when I eat it.”
A special look passed between Nate and Kirby that touched Sarah’s heart and left her with a profound feeling of happiness...and envy.
After supper Dwight helped her with her cloak, then latched onto her arm. “I’ll see you home.”
“No, thank you. It’s just a short walk.”
He leaned closer. “I insist.”
Behind him, Fiona smiled and bobbed her brows. Sarah felt everyone staring at her. She didn’t want to make a scene. “Well, all right. Thank you.”
Dwight patted her hand. “And, I’m going to show you the sights of Walker, such as they are. We’ll have supper, too. Tomorrow evening.”
“Really, Dwight, I don’t mink—”
“I insist.” He wagged his finger at her and led her out the front door.
Dwight talked about his feed and grain business as the cool night air swirled about thsm, but Sarah hardly listened. Dwight was nice enough—and certainly respectable—but she didn’t want to become involved with him. She’d vowed to keep to herself, not draw attention to herself. Fiona had been right. Talk circulating about her in town so soon after her arrival would do her no good.
. Lights shone in the window of Jess’s house a short distance down the road and Sarah found her gaze drawn to it like a beacon on a stormy night. A figure moved across the window. It had to be Jess—big, sturdy, nearly blocking out the light. The place seemed inviting, with the children inside and, of course, Jess.
Sarah’s stomach tightened as she stopped in front of her own home. A single dim lantern burned in the window, illuminating the sagging porch, chipped paint and broken steps.
“I’ll see you inside.” Dwight’s voice spoke directly into her ear; she felt his hot breath against her skin.
Sarah pulled away. “No, Mr. Rutledge. That would hardly be proper.”
“You’re not in St. Louis anymore. Things are different out here. People in Walker don’t stand on all that formality.”
“Perhaps the people of Walker don’t, Mr. Rutledge. But I do. Good evening.”
Sarah hurried up the rickety steps, Dwight’s soft chuckle resting on the evening breeze. She went into the house and turned the lock.
A more unappealing meal she’d never seen, and it took all the control Sarah could muster to sit by and not offer some of her own food to Maggie.
The midday sun shone through the white, billowing clouds as most of the children closed their lunch pails and hurried off to play. Seated