Page 29 of The Heart’s Charge

Eliza frowned. “Samuel Harris? Georgia’s grandson?”

“Yep. Seems he’s heard tales about kids going missing in the area. Miss Georgia is of the opinion that the source of the tales can’t be trusted, since the stories come from a gang of rail-riding boys, but I promised Sam I’d look into it.”

Rare for a grown man to take a child’s concerns seriously, especially when adults more acquainted with the child discounted those concerns. Eliza peered more closely at the man in front of her, a man who just might be worth heeding.

“I talked to Deputy Bronson in Kingsland this mornin’,” he continued. “No missing kids have been reported, but he did mention that cattle thieves and outlaws have been known to hide out in the hills by Honey Creek. He said if anyone was up to mischief, it probably came from that quarter.”

Eliza nodded. “I’ve heard the same rumors, but what would rustlers or outlaws want with children?”

“Dunno. Sam told me only young boys have been taken. Boys around his age.” Jonah shrugged. “Miss Georgia could be right. It could be nothin’ but a tall tale made up by a group of troublemakers to scare young boys.”

“Or it could be true.”

He nodded.

Katherine leaned forward. “If it is true, that would mean whoever is taking children is targeting those who wouldn’t be missed.”

“Like the boxcar boys,” Mr. Wallace added.

Eliza’s mind spun. “The villain would have to be familiar with the families in Kingsland to know who belonged to who.” A rather unsettling prospect to think that someone she passed in the mercantile could secretly be kidnapping children.

“Mark is going to chat up the local teacher this afternoon,” Jonah said. “See if she’s heard any rumors among her students.”

Eliza turned to Mr. Wallace. “Peggy Williams has been teaching here for years. She and her husband are good people. They live out by Honey Creek too, so she might have some insight into any unsavory element inhabiting that area. But if you want to know what the children are saying, you’ll probably want to talk to Miss Gordon. After Peggy had her second baby last year, they decided to bring in another teacher to help manage the workload. Althea Gordon works with the younger children. She’ll be the one on duty at the schoolhouse this afternoon.”

Mr. Wallace nodded, a thoughtful look transforming his usually carefree countenance into one befitting a scholar. Perhaps there were greater depths to him than she’d originally postulated. “What can you tell me about her?” he asked.

“Not much, unfortunately. Her specialty is local history. I heard she took the children out to Packsaddle Mountain a few weeks ago to teach them about the last major battle between the settlers and the Apache back in ’73, when the three Moss brothers and five other local men defeated a band of twenty-one Indians who had stolen their horses and cattle. The kids in town were talking about it for days afterward.”

“I see her at church sometimes,” Katherine added. “She travels to Llano a couple weekends a month, I think. Something about a sick father? She made a point to visit Harmony House after she started teaching. Introduced herself to the children and asked Eliza about her schoolroom. Even donated a set of old history books to our limited collection. It’ll be a few years before Abner and Ruby are old enough to read them, but it was a thoughtful gesture.”

“That’s helpful,” Mr. Wallace said. “Thank you.”

Eliza looked at Katherine. “I can speak to Mrs. Fieldman at church on Sunday. See if she’s heard anything.” She shifted her gaze to Jonah. “Mrs. Fieldman teaches the Negro school out by Miss Georgia’s homestead. If Samuel has heard tales, there’s a good chance other children from that community have as well.” Feeling a sudden sense of urgency rise in her spirit, Eliza amended her offer. “On second thought, I think I’ll drive out this afternoon. Meet her when school lets out.”

Mr. Brooks shook his head. “Not in that hunk of rotted boards you call a wagon, you won’t.”

Eliza bristled at his audacity. “It’s not your place to dictate to me, sir. I’ll go where I choose, when I choose, and in whatever conveyance I choose.”

He moved only one thing, his eyebrow, yet he might as well have been lowering the barrel of a pistol at her for the level of challenge the gesture delivered. “I ain’t stoppin’ you from going anywhere, Miss Southerland. Shoot, I’ll even give you a ride there myself. You just ain’t takin’ the wagon. It’s not safe.”

And to think she’d almost thought him pleasant a few minutes ago.

Eliza planted her hands on her hips and glared at the overbearing soldier who thought he could order her about. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

Mr. Brooks advanced a single step. “Stubborn ain’t the same as durable.”

Why did she get the feeling he was talking about her more than the wagon?

The two eyed each other, neither giving an inch.

Until Katherine’s conciliatory voice interrupted the strained silence. “They’ve offered to have the wagon repaired for us, Eliza.” Her hand came to rest lightly on Eliza’s arm. “You know how much we need that. I fret every Sunday when you take Ted and the twins to church that something will happen. I know you don’t like to ride, but if Mr. Brooks is willing to take you up on his horse, you can still visit Mrs. Fieldman today without worry of being stranded or injured.”

Without worry? Had Katherine seen the size of his horse? Eliza would be nothing but worried. No. She’d be terrified.

“Good. It’s settled,” Mr. Brooks said, as if having one woman on his side meant the other would timidly fall in line. “I’ll meet you out here at two. Will that give you time enough to finish up your lessons?”

Eliza bit back the retort perched on the tip of her tongue. This battle might be better fought from behind enemy lines than in face-to-face combat. She’d let him think he’d negotiated her surrender. For now. It would make her victory all the sweeter when she thwarted him.