Chapter Fifty-Five

SINCE JESSE’D READ LETTERS from Biddy Chambers and written to her on Miz Hyacinth’s behalf all the years she’d been blind, it was natural that after Miz Hyacinth passed, he continued to write across the pond—natural and a joy for him. He considered it providential that he was sitting in the parlor at Garden’s Gate reading aloud his most recent letter from Biddy Chambers when Rhoan Wishon all but hammered down the front door, hollering for Lilliana.

Lilliana and Gladys both jumped nearly out of their skins.

“Perhaps you’d like me to answer that,” Jesse offered, clearing his throat.

Lilliana paled but stood and straightened her skirt. “I—I should. It’s Rhoan Wishon.”

That went without saying since he’d not stopped spouting off at the mouth. “Woman, get out here!”

“I must insist, Lilliana.” Jesse walked toward the door. He couldn’t let a woman face the likes of an angry Wishon, drunk or sober, and he couldn’t yet tell which Rhoan was. Lilliana didn’t fight him on it, and for that he was grateful. Who did Rhoan Wishon think he was, behaving like a lunatic on a lady’s doorstep?

Jesse hadn’t quite made it to the door when Rhoan pushed it open and thundered in.

“Rhoan? Is that how you enter a lady’s home?” Jesse pretended to be shocked, hoping to settle the man down.

“Reverend Willard. Day to you. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Nor I you. Certainly not in such a state.”

“You would be, too, if it was your girl.”

“My girl?”

“Ruby Lynne. She’s gone and got knocked up, and it’s that Marshall boy—Tate’s nephew—what done it. Black as the ace of spades, and on to my Ruby Lynne.” Rhoan had turned redder and redder with every word till his face went from a Christmas cactus to a flaming beet.

“What?” It took Jesse a moment to get his bearings. “I’m very sorry to hear about Ruby Lynne, but, Rhoan, those are strong allegations. Did Ruby Lynne tell you that Marshall’s the father?”

“Didn’t have to. Ida Mae told me she saw him slinking round my place the day I drove her to the train over in Asheville. Now he’s run off.”

“That’s a far cry from—”

“You say. No offense intended, Preacher, but this ain’t your business! This is mine!”

Lilliana apparently refused to listen to any more because she stepped to the center of the room. “That’s like saying you bedded Ida Mae because you drove her to Asheville.”

“If you were a man, I’d punch you in the face. Did you hear that, Preacher? That woman’s got a devil in her and she’s spreading her filth up and down the street. Ruby Lynne’d never met that buck before she came here.”

“You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions, Rhoan. You need to calm down and think this through, not run wild with accusations that have no ground.” Jesse stepped into the space between Lilliana and Rhoan. He didn’t trust that Rhoan wouldn’t hit her, woman or not.

“I’ve got ground enough. You’re besotted and blinded by this woman, Reverend Willard. You need to rip those scales off your eyes before you go telling the rest of us what to do. She’s brought shame on this house, and now on mine! Old Mr. Belvidere would sit up in his grave if he knew. He’d set you all straight. He knew where folks belonged.” Rhoan stepped closer to Jesse but his eyes bored into Lilliana’s. “And since he’s not here to do it, I will. Mark my word!” He slammed his fist against the doorjamb and turned on his heel.

“Rhoan!” Jesse called after him. “Rhoan!” But the man was off the porch and out to his truck, gunning the engine, never looking back.

“What will he do?” Lilliana’s limbs shook despite her brave stance.

“No telling.” Gladys pressed trembling hands to her face. “Somebody better warn Marshall. And Olney. I hope Marshall has run off, but he’s probably just out working for somebody.”

“Rhoan Wishon is crazy! He’s guilty, and he’s barking up the wrong tree, making a show so nobody suspects him!” Lilliana all but cried.

“You can’t be sure it was him,” Gladys whispered.

Sure or not, Jesse had no doubt what Rhoan and his “friends” would do to Marshall once they got ahold of him and, because he lived with them, the Tates.