Page 2 of Magnolia Summer

Truett stepped back. He lifted his hunting knife from its sheath on his belt and sawed the ropes that bound his wrists in two.

“I thought I was dreaming when I heard that rifle crack and the rope fell.” James rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “But Tru, you could have been killed. If Sheriff Suggs finds out it was you, he’ll kill you yet.”

Truett placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I had to do it, James. Besides, I couldn’t let Suggs lynch another innocent man. And you know saving lives is my calling.” He grinned.

“Always the hero. You always want to be King Arthur or Sir Gawain, going around saving people, and it’s gonna get you killed.”

Truett’s chest grew tight and he shifted his feet. “Nah, James. Anybody with any conscience woulda’ done the same.”

“No. Most people wouldn’t.”

“You’re the one you should be thinking about, James, not me. You gotta light a shuck out of here or Suggs’ll finish what he started.” Truett kept his voice low just in case Suggs or one of his men had circled back around.

“I’ll have to leave, now, tonight.”

“Where will you go?”

“Ohio, I guess.”

It was where he had gone to school. “I’ll go with you, make sure you get safely north.”

“Listen, Tru.”

The urgency in James’s voice stopped Truett’s hand as he reached for his horse’s bridle.

“There is something I need from you, but you gotta be careful.” He scrubbed his hand over his short hair and sighed. “I need you to keep an eye on Almira.”

“Almira?”Uh-oh.

James bowed his head. “We— I— She may be . . .” He shook his head. “I knew better, but I was weak, Tru. I hope God will forgive me.” James rubbed his face, then the back of his neck. “No one should blame her. It was my fault. I should have been strong, for her sake. Maybe I deserve to be lynched.” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I’ll come back for her. You have to tell her that. I’m coming back as soon as I can to take her back with me.”

Truett’s heart dropped to his gut. “Does her father know?”

“I don’t think so, but he knows enough to justify killing me—at least in his mind. Just promise me, if you find out that she’s with child, you’ll write and tell me. Suggs will want to kill her if he finds out.” He pointed a finger at Truett. “But don’t do anything to let him know you’re helping me. He’ll killyou. And this town needs its doctor.”

There was something else this town needed much worse, and that was a sheriff who didn’t think he was above the law, a lawman who didn’t judge innocence and guilt by the color of a man’s skin.

But James was right. If Suggs ever discovered who had saved James from being lynched, he would be glad to lynch Truett in his place.

* * *

Sitting alone in her room,Celia Wilcox reread the letter her sister had sent her.

Dear Celia,

Please come and help us. Mama just sits and mumbles. I’m scared. We have no money, and Daddy’s horses broke down the fence last night and ran away. Will has been searching for them since before daylight. Without those horses, I don’t know what we’ll do. Daddy spent the last of our savings buying them. But the scariest thing is Mama. She doesn’t even remember that Daddy’s dead sometimes, and when she does remember, she cries for hours. She hardly knows the rest of us exist. I’ve been taking care of Harley and Tempie, trying to cook on this awful stove—I need you, Celia. I don’t want you to give up your dream of your own seamstress shop, but surely Mama will get better. Please come and help, just until things get a little easier around here.

Your affectionate sister,

Lizzie

Celia criedwhen she read the letter earlier that afternoon, a fist of guilt squeezing her chest. She immediately started packing her trunk, barely able to see through the blur of tears.

Her father had died in February, and it was nearly summer now. She’d spent two weeks grieving with her family, the only time she’d visited since they’d moved to the farm in north Alabama.

Nashville was her home. Her father had agreed to her staying at Mrs. Beasley’s boarding house while the rest of the family moved. She loved her father, but . . . a tinge of anger mixed with her sadness now as she contemplated the events of the past year. How could her father have chosen to throw away his money and good sense to buy a farm, leaving his position as a mathematics professor at Vanderbilt University to be a horse breeder?

The decision never made any sense to Celia, and she’d told her father so, as tactfully and respectfully as she could. But he didn’t listen. Her poor siblings and mother. They’d happily gone along with Father’s scheme, never knowing what heartbreak would come of it.