The horse reared up as the fence splintered from the shot. It jerked free of its hitch, inspiring the other horses to try to follow suit.
“Catch the horses,” one man shouted.
Another man ran through the gate, snagging one of the horses before it loosed itself.
“Ain't doin’ no more here, Dean,” the man with the wounded hand yelled as he ran to the gate. “The old hag's gonna have to pay for my hand.”
“And get her story straight afore I come back with you, Cole,” said another, grabbing the reins of another horse trying to free itself.
Cole?
The last man paused at the gate and looked toward the house, the pale moonlight glinting on his face. Her breath caught.
Cole Morgan? Charles’ cousin?
Kizzie's breath puffed out, and she lowered the gun. The old woman and Cole?
Kizzie turned and leaned against the wall, Boss’ barks still rising from downstairs. Did Eliza Morgan pay these men to try and scare her away? Did she hate Kizzie so much, despise her and Charlie's presence to such a degree, she'd risk Kizzie's life and Charlie's?
Charlie's cries rose over the sound of the barking, and Kizzie moved down the stairs, shuttering the broken window before she went to her baby. She sat in a rocking chair in the sitting room, the sudden quiet rushing through her as she fed Charlie. Her body started quaking, her mind scrambling through a hundred feelings and thoughts.
Boss lay at her feet, as if to reassure her of his presence.
She closed her eyes and pinched her lips against the growing tears.
This was no way to live.
No future for Charlie.
She leaned her head back against the rocking chair, scraping through her trembling thoughts for help.
Her breaths began to slow, the shaking too, and the realization of what she'd done cleared through the betrayal and shock she felt from Mrs. Morgan's actions.
Kizzie hadn't cowered. No. God had given her courage. And the idea of how to fight back. She'd used what smarts she had to keep herself and Charlie safe.
She might have made some horrible decisions in the past, but she wasn't stupid.
And she might have weakened under Charles’ affection, but she was stronger now.
And she might have been alone yesterday.
I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.
But she wasn't alone anymore.
She looked over at the shuttered, broken window, an understanding beginning a slow climb into her mind.
She couldn't stay here.
Chapter 8
KIZZIE CONTEMPLATED GOING TO THEChappells’ the next morning but decided against it. She had to learn to manage things on her own, and this proved another good test of her abilities.
Besides, her nightly visitors confirmed a growing decision she'd contemplated ever since her confrontation with Mrs. Morgan.
So once she'd cleaned up after breakfast the next morning, she drove to town and inquired of the Berrys for someone who repaired windows. Mr. Berry offered to locate Mr. Clarkson and send him out to the house.
After a few inquiries as to whom she might speak with regarding her deed, Kizzie chose Mr. Berry's cousin, Mr. Davis, a newer lawyer in town instead of the lawyer who'd signed the deed. Charles didn't need to find out about her plans. Not yet. Mr. Davis responded to Kizzie's questions with a bit of surprise, especially noting the deed's recent transfer to her. But an idea continued to form and grow.
