Whispers of Heaven by Candice Proctor Page B

them. Slowly, the big man straightened and swung around, dragging the boy with him. "Talking to me, are you?"
    Gallagher took another step forward, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his weight shifted, significantly, to his back leg. "I said let him go."
    John Pike had a reputation as a mean son of a bitch, and he outweighed Gallagher by a good four or five stone. But Lucas Gallagher had a reputation of his own. Pike gave the boy a rough shove that sent him sprawling facedown in the dirt. "I'll let him go. For now."
    "For good." Lucas watched the boy scramble backward in the dirt, out of the big man's way. "Find someone who's willing, Pike."
    The evening breeze blew between them, cold and lonely and scented with dust. The sun was almost down now, the light leaching from the sky to leave it pale. Soon, they would all be locked in together for the night. A slight movement drew Gallagher's attention to the two-story, sandstone barracks beside them, where Corbett's overseer, Dalton, had finally bestirred himself enough to appear in the open doorway. What bullies like John Pike did to vulnerable young boys in the dark recesses of the barracks at night was one thing. But open fighting between the men out in the yard where the master might see was something else entirely.
    Pike had noticed the overseer, too. He jerked his head toward the barracks, his lips curling away from his teeth in an ugly caricature of a smile. "You know what I want the lad for, do you?" He leaned forward, his fingertips tucked in the waistband of his coarse canvas trousers. "Maybe you'd like to take his place. I hear you've experience."
    Daniel's big hand shot out just in time to snag Gallagher's arm and haul him back. "Don't do it." Daniel cast a significant glance toward the overseer, watching them through slitted eyes. Throwing a punch at Pike, now, would earn Gallagher a week in solitary confinement. Or a flogging.
    Lucas sucked in a deep, steadying breath, and Daniel let him go.
    Lucas shook himself. "There's only one thing you need to remember, Pike: Touch that boy again, and I'll cut out your guts and use them to make a nest for those spiders you're so fond of." Deliberately, he turned his back on the burly Englishman and walked over to reach out his hand to the stableboy and haul him to his feet.
    "You all right, lad?"
    "Yeah," said Charlie, dragging a dirty sleeve across his wet face. "But you shouldna done that. He won't forget it, and he'll get you back for it, one way or another. You ain't been here long enough to know what Pike's like."
    "I know what he's like." Lucas stooped to scoop up the boy's hat and set it on his head. "Mr. Corbett has asked me to start working with Finnegan's Luck in the morning. You want to help?"
    Charlie's gray eyes went wide in a way that reminded Lucas that the stableboy was still very much a child, even if he had been transported for theft, even if he did know more than any child should have to know about things like starvation, and the kind of depravity men could sink to when they'd been deprived of women for too long. "Gor" whispered Charlie. "You mean it? That big red stallion?"
    "Sure I mean it." Lucas lifted his head, his gaze drawn one last time toward the distant purpling hills and the rolling sea they hid. "It's getting dark." He smiled down at the boy again. "There's a space beside the Fox where you can sling your hammock from now on, if you like."
    The boy nodded and darted ahead, but Lucas lingered until the last moment. He sucked the sweet, night-scented air into his lungs, his eyes so dry they hurt as he stared up at the first stars winking at him from out of the darkening sky. Then he went into the barracks with its iron-barred windows and heavily bolted door that closed behind him with a familiar, dreaded clang.
    She knew it was him.
    She could see him, standing alone in the quickly darkening expanse of the yard. Impossible, at this distance, to distinguish his features. Yet there was no mistaking