Page 38 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Gray did not miss a beat. "It’s mighty odd, isn’t it?" He paused. "That you should have a negro assistant, especially one who looks like this?" he said, waggling an eyebrow. "You can’t find a nice white student to help you?"

"None with the talents of Ms. Cross."

He nodded as if that answered his question. "Talents? I see." He bowed his hat. "I look forward to hearing more from you, Ms. Cross." Then he looked to Houston. "Good day."

The adrenaline in my body was still racing, and I felt my muscles screaming from the strain of pulling my foot from the mud as Houston approached. I flinched as he neared.

"It’s me," he said, looking concerned.

He said it like we’d known each other all our lives. I kept my arms at my sides, and he didn’t move any closer or reach for me. Suddenly, I was that little girl, floundering in the ocean, only this time my mother wasn’t there to comfort me. She was gone. My sister hated me. I was completely and utterly alone.

"Hey," Houston said, leaning in to wipe a tear away with his thumb, which only brought on more tears. "You’re shaking. It’s okay. You’re okay."

When the tears didn’t stop, he encircled me with his arms and I leaned into the embrace despite myself, letting the tears that I hadn’t cried for either of my parents finally release themselves. I wept until my tears soaked through his shirt, and Houston held me tighter. I could not understand why Sterling had felt like a threat and Houston didn’t, but somehow, I knew I was safe with him.

I had no idea how long we stood there before he pulled back. He handed me a handkerchief from his pocket and I took it, trying to pull myself back together. It seemed like Houston didn’t know what to do to with his hands, so he pointed towards the road. "I have the car. Would you like to—"

"I don’t think I can walk," I said, feeling embarrassed.

He bent down to examine my ankle. "It’s sprained, I think but I’ll be able to tell for sure once we wash the mud off." He paused a moment. "Would you like my help to get to the car?"

"No," I said. "I can manage." But after a few steps, my ankle gave out and Houston caught me before I could fall. He lifted me into his arms, and for the second time I noted how muscular he was, and how easily he carried me. I avoided his gaze as he carried me, shamelessly soaking in every moment I was in his arms, until he lowered me into the passenger side of the car.

"Shouldn’t I sit in the back?" I asked.

"No." The word was so final, so absolute, I tilted my head to search his face until our gazes locked. Houston cleared his throat. "We are not far from the house. It will be fine."

He pulled on the seat belt and leaned over to click it into place before we drove the short way back to the house in silence. There, Lettie was full of questions waiting for us in the kitchen, but Houston must have given her a look, because she swallowed them and sat a cup of tea in front of me.

"What happened?" Lettie asked, sitting beside me. I looked to Houston, who had his hand on the fireplace looking out the window.

"She met Gray Sterling."

Lettie neck snapped from swiveling her head between us. "You met a Sterling? How?" She looked legitimately worried.

"I was walking along the river," I began. "I wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t mean, but—"

"The Sterlings are dangerous," Lettie warned with a shiver. "He’s a grand dragon."

"A what?" I asked in confusion.

Lettie looked surprised. "Do you not have Klansmen where you are from?"

"I—" I struggled at how to explain. "I don’t remember. I don’t think they aren’t out in the open."

"Gray is high ranking," she said. "His daddy, the Sheriff, is the area’s Grand Wizard. He sanctions the violence in this area."

I shook my head. "But he is the Sheriff."

"Exactly," Lettie said holding my hand tightly. "No one can touch him. Who would we complain to?"

"What were you doing along the river, Gema?" Houston asked.

I startled. He’d had been so quiet, I’d nearly forgotten he was there. "I—I was walking to town."

His eyes found mine. "You were what?"

Something old and stubborn rose up in me at his tone. It was the same fire I felt whenever I was being spoken to like a child. "You wouldn’t take me," I said evenly, "so I found my own way."