Listen to the Townsfolk
With a nod, Mr. Stewart headed for his office. It was then that Nita realized he’d even made his appearance, and she ran after him. Hope was far enough away that she couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she imagined it wasn’t pleasant from the gestures each of them was making. She had wished Nita was with her while she spoke to him, but now, seeing how upset he seemed to be, she was glad to be spared from the conversation.
The chatter from the other women had been a constant such that Hope hadn’t even noticed it until it abruptly stopped. Her head swiveled to see what had brought them to silence, and a familiar figure caught her attention. Judah tipped his hat to the women, and they all scrambled toward the door, as if he had an infectious disease.
He didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care. His eyes were on Mr. Stewart and Nita as he crossed to stand next to Hope. “I’m guessin’ you met Mr. Stewart?”
In light of the other women’s desperation to stay away from this man, Hope wasn’t sure what to say. Perhaps she should also shoot for the door. But there was nothing threatening about him as he stood next to her, smelling like a spring day and hard work mixed with horses and leather. It was an intriguing aroma, not at all offensive, and she fought the urge to step closer to him and take a deep breath. “I have,” she managed to say.
He shook his head. “Good luck gettin’ anything you don’t already have. ‘Fraid you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Miss Tucker.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, puzzled.
Judah wore a look of amusement, as if her confusion was humorous. “Only that there are some folks around here who would label any book that isn’t the Holy Bible devil’s work. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that all? Well, if that’s the case, it’ll be simple to teach their children how to read and write.” She shook her head, beginning to see he was right.
He chuckled, and her head spun so that she was facing him again. “Somethin’ tells me you’ll manage.” He stepped away with a tip of his hat, leaving Hope wondering what in the world that comment was supposed to mean. She didn’t ask, though. Nita was headed to her now, her eyes larger than saucers, and Hope imagined she was angry as a hornet about whatever it was Mr. Stewart had told her.
“Miss Tucker!” she admonished, taking Hope by the arm and dragging her toward the door, and Hope suddenly realized the expression had less to do with Mr. Stewart and more to do with Mr. Lawless.
Mrs. Howard was spry for her age, and Hope found herself fumbling down the stairs, her boots crossing and nearly tripping her as she struggled to keep up. They were a ways down the walkway before Nita stopped. “Do you have any idea who you were just speaking with?”
Unsure how to answer, Hope only stared with her mouth open. Nita had released her arm, but it stung where the woman’s grasp had dug into her skin. “I… yes. I guess. Brady said something about him yesterday. I ran into him at the library....”
“That man is a murderer!” Nita replied through clenched teeth. “You must absolutely stay away from him!”
Shocked at the urgency in her hostess’s voice, Hope had to look away. Her eyes wandered to the saloon, and she wondered how many other men might take up residence in there each evening but then go home to their families and even show up at church on a Sunday morning. “He didn’t even say anything, not really,” Hope assured her. “He only asked if I’d met Mr. Stewart.” She didn’t see that it was necessary to tell Mrs. Howard anything else about either conversation she’d had with Judah Lawless.
“Well, you best mind what Brady told you. My son knows about townsfolk.”
Hope wanted to know if Brady frequented the saloon to find out that information or if he’d procured it by some other measures, but she kept her mouth shut. Had Brady been the one to convince his mother that Judah was so awful, or was it someone else?
“Now, Mr. Stewart said he would order the slates, which is wonderful. But he’s not so keen on gettin’ any books for the school. He said you can teach from the Bible.”
Hope’s eyes narrowed. “You know I can’t actually do that, don’t you? I need materials. Curriculum.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But we won’t be getting any funds from him. There might be other ways. We’ll have to think on it.”
Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, Hope decided there wasn’t much else to say about it at the moment. Mr. Stewart seemed like a powerful man whose priorities were quite different than Hope’s despite the fact that they were both involved in education. She’d just have to think of some other way to get the books and other things she needed in order to best serve her students.
“I’m headed back to the house,” Nita said, her eyes flickering to the bank. “You going to visit Doc?”
Hope had forgotten all about her promise to go by Nicholas’s office. Only when she’d walked past it earlier in the day had it even crossed her mind. “Yes, I told him I would.”
“All right. I will see you back at the house.” She took a step closer. “Stay away from that man, Miss Tucker. He’s trouble.”
She knew who Nita meant. Hope nodded, thinking the chances of running into the same man three times in the same day were slim anyway—especially since he’d said he was going back to his homestead over an hour ago.
Nita’s eyes narrowed, telling Hope she meant business, and she stepped around the schoolteacher to head back to her house.
Hope took another deep breath and fought the urge to run her hands down her face. This day had not turned out like she expected at all. The library was a wonderful find, but the fact that Mr. Stewart was an unreasonable, pompous man was something else. And the fact that she kept running into a handsome stranger who might just be a murderer wasn’t helpful.
She glanced back toward the bank, thinking Judah would appear at any moment and decided not to linger. With a quick glance around, she reminded herself of where she needed to go to reach Doc’s office and headed that way without looking back, even when she heard the door open and felt the weight of blue eyes on the back of her head.
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