this.” She handed the coins to Mrs. Denning.
“I cain’t take that.”
“Of course you can. I always try to pay for information. It isn’t always possible, but tonight it is.”
The woman looked at the coins for a long minute, then took them and nodded. “We ain’t got any food. Ain’t had any for days. This’ll buy a feast.” She turned and hurried her children out the door before Mia could say another word.
“Are we gonna eat, Mama?” one of the boys asked.
“I reckon we will,” she told him before pulling them out into the night.
Mia sighed. She’d parted with less money than she had often spent on ribbons, and the realization of their desperate situation made her ache. I don’t know how to help them, Lord, she prayed. There’s so much to be done and I feel so insignificant. Mia pulled on her shawl and made her way outside.
The darkness had deepened and she picked up her pace. At least the rain had stopped, but in its place there was a feeling in the air that made her uneasy. She felt almost as if she were being watched. Tripping over a rough spot, Mia straightened and grabbed her skirt with both hands. It was a completely unacceptable manner in which to walk. A lady was always taught to hold her skirt gracefully with one hand—preferably the right. To hold one’s skirts with both hands was to suggest less than decent breeding. The only time Mia had ever seen it be considered acceptable was when the mud was truly bad.
She rounded the corner and slowed only the tiniest bit. She was less than three blocks from home, but her corsets were preventing her from drawing a deep breath and the heaviness of the night air seemed to drop upon her shoulders like a wet blanket.
What a wretched night. Mia thought again of the poor Denning woman and her children. They had so little and she had so much. There had to be a way to make things better for them.
When I get home, I’ll try to—
The thought went unfinished. Without warning someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her backward. Mia tried to scream, but her mouth was quickly covered.
CHAPTER 6
“ M ia. It’s me. Stop screaming. Stop fighting me.”
She didn’t recognize the voice at first, but by the time Garrett repeated his words, she stilled and fell against him. Gasping for air, Mia grew light-headed. “I . . . I . . . think I might faint.”
He turned her in his arms and lifted her. “Just relax and breathe deeply.”
Mia chuckled as she fought to remain conscious. “I can’t . . . draw breath . . . that’s the problem.”
“If you weren’t so tightly corseted, you could breathe,” he countered. “Honestly, why you women wear such contraptions is beyond me.”
“You aren’t . . . supposed to know . . . about such things— much less . . . speak of them,” she said, halting to draw air.
Garrett shook his head and began walking. “I know about a great many things. What I don’t understand, but mean to, is why you have been making these late-night walks.”
Mia felt her breathing even and suddenly became aware that Garrett was holding her—carrying her. “Put me down,” she demanded. She felt safe and warm in his arms, but at the same time there was something else. Something she didn’t understand, and it disturbed her a great deal.
“Are you sure you won’t faint?”
“I’m quite all right—just put me down.”
“And you’ll tell me why you’re out here?”
Mia looked into Garrett’s face. She couldn’t see any detail, but she felt his warm breath against her cheek. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself. People’s lives are at stake.”
“Yours, for one. I could have been a robber or something worse.” He gently put Mia back down and held onto her as she steadied herself.
“You could have been a great many things.” She took hold of his offered arm. “I’m glad, however, that you are simply you—my friend and confidant.”
“So tell me what was so important that
“I cain’t take that.”
“Of course you can. I always try to pay for information. It isn’t always possible, but tonight it is.”
The woman looked at the coins for a long minute, then took them and nodded. “We ain’t got any food. Ain’t had any for days. This’ll buy a feast.” She turned and hurried her children out the door before Mia could say another word.
“Are we gonna eat, Mama?” one of the boys asked.
“I reckon we will,” she told him before pulling them out into the night.
Mia sighed. She’d parted with less money than she had often spent on ribbons, and the realization of their desperate situation made her ache. I don’t know how to help them, Lord, she prayed. There’s so much to be done and I feel so insignificant. Mia pulled on her shawl and made her way outside.
The darkness had deepened and she picked up her pace. At least the rain had stopped, but in its place there was a feeling in the air that made her uneasy. She felt almost as if she were being watched. Tripping over a rough spot, Mia straightened and grabbed her skirt with both hands. It was a completely unacceptable manner in which to walk. A lady was always taught to hold her skirt gracefully with one hand—preferably the right. To hold one’s skirts with both hands was to suggest less than decent breeding. The only time Mia had ever seen it be considered acceptable was when the mud was truly bad.
She rounded the corner and slowed only the tiniest bit. She was less than three blocks from home, but her corsets were preventing her from drawing a deep breath and the heaviness of the night air seemed to drop upon her shoulders like a wet blanket.
What a wretched night. Mia thought again of the poor Denning woman and her children. They had so little and she had so much. There had to be a way to make things better for them.
When I get home, I’ll try to—
The thought went unfinished. Without warning someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her backward. Mia tried to scream, but her mouth was quickly covered.
CHAPTER 6
“ M ia. It’s me. Stop screaming. Stop fighting me.”
She didn’t recognize the voice at first, but by the time Garrett repeated his words, she stilled and fell against him. Gasping for air, Mia grew light-headed. “I . . . I . . . think I might faint.”
He turned her in his arms and lifted her. “Just relax and breathe deeply.”
Mia chuckled as she fought to remain conscious. “I can’t . . . draw breath . . . that’s the problem.”
“If you weren’t so tightly corseted, you could breathe,” he countered. “Honestly, why you women wear such contraptions is beyond me.”
“You aren’t . . . supposed to know . . . about such things— much less . . . speak of them,” she said, halting to draw air.
Garrett shook his head and began walking. “I know about a great many things. What I don’t understand, but mean to, is why you have been making these late-night walks.”
Mia felt her breathing even and suddenly became aware that Garrett was holding her—carrying her. “Put me down,” she demanded. She felt safe and warm in his arms, but at the same time there was something else. Something she didn’t understand, and it disturbed her a great deal.
“Are you sure you won’t faint?”
“I’m quite all right—just put me down.”
“And you’ll tell me why you’re out here?”
Mia looked into Garrett’s face. She couldn’t see any detail, but she felt his warm breath against her cheek. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself. People’s lives are at stake.”
“Yours, for one. I could have been a robber or something worse.” He gently put Mia back down and held onto her as she steadied herself.
“You could have been a great many things.” She took hold of his offered arm. “I’m glad, however, that you are simply you—my friend and confidant.”
“So tell me what was so important that
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