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Authors: Madeline Baker
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letter.
“What?” Russell asked weakly. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. How could you do such a terrible thing? What
gave you the right?”
“How…?” Russell stammered. “Who?” He shook his head. “Where
did you hear such a thing?”
“From Mitch. I went to dinner with him tonight.”
Russell surged to his feet. “You did what?”
“I had dinner with him tonight.”
“You lied to me.”
She fought back the anger rising within her. “You know all
about lies, don’t you, Papa?” she asked quietly.
The color drained from her father’s face, but he didn’t deny
it. “He was no good, Alisha. A half-breed with no future. I did what I thought
was best for you, the same as any father would have done.” He held his hands
out, palm up, in a gesture of supplication. “Surely you can see that?”
“No, Papa, I can’t see that. I loved Mitch, and he loved me.
“
“I made the right decision.”
“Papa, I was old enough to make my own decisions.”
“Old enough,” he scoffed. “Why you were still a child,
barely seventeen.”
“Mama was sixteen when she married you.” Alisha shook her
head, her faith in her father badly shaken. “I’ve always believed everything
you taught me. How many of them have been lies, Papa?” she asked, her voice and
her temper rising. “How many?”
Russell stared at his daughter, each word like a blow
striking his heart. “Alisha, please…”
“How could you do such a dreadful thing?” she exclaimed. “You
ruined my life! I’ll never believe anything you tell me again,” she declared as
she turned and ran out of the room. “Never!”
“Alisha, wait!” Russell felt a stab of pain in his chest as
he watched his daughter run out of the room. “Angela,” he murmured as he
slumped back in his chair. “Angela, what have I done?”
Chapter Eight
He’d said he would stay away from her, and he had meant it,
but it seemed that every time Mitch turned around in the next few days, Alisha
was there. In the general store. Crossing the street. At the bank. Or maybe,
subconsciously, he was seeking her out. All he knew was that seeing her every
day was driving him crazy. And seeing her with Roger Smithfield was enough to
tie his stomach in knots.
Smithfield. Always the teacher’s pet in school. Always clean
and neat, his shoes always shined, his blond hair slicked back. Never in
trouble. Mitch would have died before he would have admitted it, but he’d
always been a little jealous of Smithfield’s scrubbed good looks. The girls had
always fawned over him, all except Alisha.
Much to his surprise, Mitch found himself in church again
the following Sunday morning. He hadn’t intended to go and had, in fact, been
more than a little late in arriving. The congregation was halfway through the
second hymn when he slipped into the first vacant seat he came to. Glancing
around, he found himself sitting across the aisle from Roger Smithfield.
Looking at the man, it was easy to see why Alisha wanted to marry him. He was
tall and good-looking, with his wavy blond hair and winning smile. Mitch had
seen the house Smithfield was building for Alisha. It was going to be the
showplace of the county. No doubt she would be very happy there, in her new
house, with her new husband…
He shifted in his seat. What the devil was he doing here,
driving himself crazy?
He didn’t hear a word of Faraday’s sermon. All he could
think of was Alisha living in another man’s house, cooking his meals, mending
his clothes, sharing his life, his bed…
When Russell Faraday stood to offer the benediction, Mitch
left the church and headed for the jail. Removing his badge, he tossed it on
the desk, then wrote a short note to the city fathers telling them to find
someone else for the job.
Going up to the house—it would never be home—he packed his
gear. He had always intended to visit his mother’s people, and this seemed like
a damn good time to do just that.
A light rain
“What?” Russell asked weakly. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. How could you do such a terrible thing? What
gave you the right?”
“How…?” Russell stammered. “Who?” He shook his head. “Where
did you hear such a thing?”
“From Mitch. I went to dinner with him tonight.”
Russell surged to his feet. “You did what?”
“I had dinner with him tonight.”
“You lied to me.”
She fought back the anger rising within her. “You know all
about lies, don’t you, Papa?” she asked quietly.
The color drained from her father’s face, but he didn’t deny
it. “He was no good, Alisha. A half-breed with no future. I did what I thought
was best for you, the same as any father would have done.” He held his hands
out, palm up, in a gesture of supplication. “Surely you can see that?”
“No, Papa, I can’t see that. I loved Mitch, and he loved me.
“
“I made the right decision.”
“Papa, I was old enough to make my own decisions.”
“Old enough,” he scoffed. “Why you were still a child,
barely seventeen.”
“Mama was sixteen when she married you.” Alisha shook her
head, her faith in her father badly shaken. “I’ve always believed everything
you taught me. How many of them have been lies, Papa?” she asked, her voice and
her temper rising. “How many?”
Russell stared at his daughter, each word like a blow
striking his heart. “Alisha, please…”
“How could you do such a dreadful thing?” she exclaimed. “You
ruined my life! I’ll never believe anything you tell me again,” she declared as
she turned and ran out of the room. “Never!”
“Alisha, wait!” Russell felt a stab of pain in his chest as
he watched his daughter run out of the room. “Angela,” he murmured as he
slumped back in his chair. “Angela, what have I done?”
Chapter Eight
He’d said he would stay away from her, and he had meant it,
but it seemed that every time Mitch turned around in the next few days, Alisha
was there. In the general store. Crossing the street. At the bank. Or maybe,
subconsciously, he was seeking her out. All he knew was that seeing her every
day was driving him crazy. And seeing her with Roger Smithfield was enough to
tie his stomach in knots.
Smithfield. Always the teacher’s pet in school. Always clean
and neat, his shoes always shined, his blond hair slicked back. Never in
trouble. Mitch would have died before he would have admitted it, but he’d
always been a little jealous of Smithfield’s scrubbed good looks. The girls had
always fawned over him, all except Alisha.
Much to his surprise, Mitch found himself in church again
the following Sunday morning. He hadn’t intended to go and had, in fact, been
more than a little late in arriving. The congregation was halfway through the
second hymn when he slipped into the first vacant seat he came to. Glancing
around, he found himself sitting across the aisle from Roger Smithfield.
Looking at the man, it was easy to see why Alisha wanted to marry him. He was
tall and good-looking, with his wavy blond hair and winning smile. Mitch had
seen the house Smithfield was building for Alisha. It was going to be the
showplace of the county. No doubt she would be very happy there, in her new
house, with her new husband…
He shifted in his seat. What the devil was he doing here,
driving himself crazy?
He didn’t hear a word of Faraday’s sermon. All he could
think of was Alisha living in another man’s house, cooking his meals, mending
his clothes, sharing his life, his bed…
When Russell Faraday stood to offer the benediction, Mitch
left the church and headed for the jail. Removing his badge, he tossed it on
the desk, then wrote a short note to the city fathers telling them to find
someone else for the job.
Going up to the house—it would never be home—he packed his
gear. He had always intended to visit his mother’s people, and this seemed like
a damn good time to do just that.
A light rain
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