Lightning and Lace - By DiAnn Mills Page 0,2

disappeared in a canopy of pine trees. Sort of like his life. A horse and rider trotted by, nearly running him over. What a reception.

Once Travis rounded the bend, he breathed in the picturesque countryside. Birds serenaded him, and for a moment he relaxed. Up ahead and to the right of him he heard voices. He stopped in the road, and the distinct sound of boys arguing seized his attention. He focused on the trees and made his way closer to them.

“Your pa died ’cause he couldn’t stand being around you.”

“Liar. He was sick.”

“Yeah. He had you for a son.”

The sharp smack of a punch broke the otherwise peaceful afternoon. One of the boys cursed, and the struggle continued. Travis left his bag at the side of the road and headed for them. He stepped into the middle of flying fists and grabbed each boy by the shoulder.

“Whoa, boys. Shouldn’t you be in school?”

One of the boys, a dark-haired youth of about twelve, wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth. He scowled at Travis. “That’s none of your business.”

Travis shook his head and glanced at a red-haired boy whose shirt had been ripped nearly in two. A purplish bruise encircled his eye, providing no doubt as who was winning this fistfight. “So do you think it’s none of my business?”

“We don’t need you, mister,” the red-haired boy said, nearly out of breath.

The dark-haired one laughed and jerked from Travis’s hold. “I’ll teach you a lesson, Clay—one you’ll never forget.” He lunged forward, but Travis grabbed him.

“We’re heading to the school.” Travis shoved both of the boys ahead of him. “Fighting doesn’t solve a thing.”

The boys tried to shrug his hold, but years of hard work in the Tennessee hills had made Travis strong. The dark-haired boy cursed again. His pa needed to take a switch to his backside—or was this the boy whose pa had died?

The schoolhouse loomed ahead, but the children were obviously inside tending to their lessons. By forcing the boys into the building, he’d humiliate them. For a moment, he wished he had a rope to tie them up before he fetched the teacher. He paused before mounting the schoolhouse steps and debated the best way to handle the mess he’d gotten himself into. The door opened, and a woman stood before him.

Shock etched her face. “Zack, what is going on?”

The dark-haired boy shook off Travis’s hold. “Clay started it, Mama. I didn’t want to get beat up, so I hit back.”

Travis had sincere doubts about the truth in Zack’s words.

“That’s a lie,” Clay said. “He started it by saying my ma was bigger than a cow and ugly.”

Zack swallowed hard. “That’s not true, Mama. Please believe me. He said Papa died ’cause I was a bad son.”

The woman’s face softened, and she reached out for him to take her hand. “I believe you.” She tilted her head and eyed Travis.

For the first time, Travis studied the woman, a little lady with sky blue eyes. He saw the resemblance between her and Zack, except she had hair the color of wheat. Apparently she was the schoolteacher, too.

“And who are you?” she said.

“Travis Whitworth, ma’am. I was walking past the woods and heard the boys scuffling.”

“He threatened to beat me,” Zack said. “I begged him to bring us to school.”

Travis wished he’d never interrupted the boys. Zack obviously had more than a little experience in manipulating his mother. He stole a look at Clay from the corner of his eye. Fear had captured the boy. No doubt Zack had practice in bullying others.

The woman stiffened. “How dare you speak to these boys this way?”

“Ma’am, I said nothing of the sort. I simply broke up the fight and brought the boys here. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

She shook her fist at him. “I have a good mind to report you to the sheriff. A grown man has no right threatening young boys.”

Shock settled on Travis. Had he come to the wrong town? “I assure you I had the best intentions in breaking up the fight, but if you feel you must contact the sheriff, I’d be happy to talk with him. I can be contacted through Reverend Rainer.”

Frustrated and angry, Travis took long strides to the road to retrieve his bag. No wonder the reverend of this town was retiring. The citizens of Kahlerville offered as much welcome as an aggravated rattler.

Chapter 2

Travis reached to pick up his bag and too late discovered a