A Mistaken Match by Whitney Bailey

Author:Whitney Bailey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-12-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Ann dashed to James’s side, her stomach in knots. Had Mr. Schneider learned of the food she left for the children? Was he angry?

“Sadie? Where is George?” She’d never seen the tiny girl without her older brother. Her protector. The knots in her stomach twisted.

“With Papa. George said not to come here, but I got scared when Papa never woke for meals today.”

The sun sat above the horizon, but it was well into evening. James’s face fell and he reached for Ann’s hand. She squeezed his fingers and took Sadie from his arms.

“Sadie, we have some bread and jam inside that needs to be eaten. Could you help?”

She nodded vigorously. “I could!”

Ann forced the corners of her mouth into a smile. “Splendid. I’m going to fix a snack for you, and you can stay inside until we return.”

James placed a hand on Ann’s arm. “You’re staying here.”

Ann set Sadie on the ground. “Why don’t you try those new rocking chairs on the porch? I’ll join you in a moment.” She watched until Sadie skipped out of earshot before turning to James. “I’m going with you. You said Mr. Schneider has waved a shotgun at you. If he’s alive, having a woman with you may be your only protection.”

“If Hal Schneider is alive, he’s likely so drunk he’ll shoot at anything.”

“Then we’ll both have to keep our wits about us, won’t we?”

She hoped that if she treated the conversation as done, he’d stop arguing.

“Don’t you dare leave without me, James.” She wagged a finger in his direction, then grasped her skirts and ran back to the house. Uncle Mac had joined Sadie on the porch, and within a minute, Ann set bread and jam for two on the kitchen table. Uncle Mac raised a quizzical brow, but she had no time to pull him aside and explain.

“Sadie? Uncle Mac is going to...” Her mind raced. He couldn’t read to her or tell her a story.

“Dr-draw,” he croaked.

Ann exhaled. “Yes! You’re going to draw.” She scrounged up paper and pencil and hurried out the door.

Her heart and mind raced as she dashed back to James.

Please, Lord, grant us wisdom to deal with whatever we may find at the Schneider farm.

James remained where she’d left him and they hurried together to the Schneider’s front lawn. Or what must have been the front lawn. Thorny weeds grasped at her skirt, and she stopped to wrench them away. When she sidestepped a wild blackberry bush growing directly in the path of the front porch steps, Ann tripped over an upturned paving stone. James’s strong hands caught her by the waist and steadied her. His hand remained on the small of her back, steady and comforting, as they picked their way over the broken path.

The front porch was in a miserable state. Several floorboards were missing, and the roof sagged precariously overhead. James forged ahead and gingerly tested the remaining boards with his weight until he reached the front door. Ann followed close behind him.

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