to the pretty pink shade of them. What was the matter with him these days? He never had so much trouble keeping focused on his tasks. Maybe he had been away from home and familiar surroundings for too long. It would feel good to finish up in Spring Hill and head back to the east in a few weeks.
Silence settled over them as the horsed pulled the buggy up a small hill. At the top, Cecilia pointed to the left. “That’s Mr. Hartley’s farm. Looks like his house isn’t too far from the road.”
“House” was putting it nicely. Even from a distance, Simon could see that the dwelling was more of a haphazard shack than a house. His heart echoed with a prayer for Patrick, an innocent child who had been dragged into what seemed like a mess. If anything bad happened to the boy, it would be Simon’s fault for letting him go with Mr. Hartley. And he knew from experience how that guilt would feel.
Before that fear got the better of him, Simon turned the buggy toward the shack and in a few minutes they pulled to a stop in the dirt nearby. There was no movement in the yard or around the dwelling. The place almost looked deserted and uneasiness settled like a rock in Simon’s chest, making it hard to breathe. Something was wrong.
But by the time Cecilia’s feet hit the dirt as he helped her down from the buggy, the door had creaked open on uneven hinges and Mr. Hartley stood in the entrance, scowling at them. “What do you want?”
His barking voice didn’t do anything to calm Simon’s fears. “I’m Simon McKay, the orphan train placing agent. I’m making visits to the children’s new homes on the authority of the Children’s Aid Society of New York City. I only need to speak to you and Patrick for a few minutes.”
The annoyed scowl turned into a full-blown angry glare. “Now, I don’t care who gave you authority, you’ve got no reason to go poking around in my business. I think it’s about time you got off my property.”
Before Simon could formulate a response that wouldn’t make things worse, he heard a young voice shout from behind the shack. “Mr. McKay!” Patrick ran around the building at full-tilt, throwing himself into Simon’s arms and nearly knocking them both off balance.
“Patrick, I’m glad to see you. But you don’t have to hold on quite so tight.” He loosened the boy’s skinny arms from his waist, but rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling a need to keep the orphan close by his side while he was there. “How are you and Mr. Hartley getting along?”
Simon thought it was possible that his heart would explode with emotion when he saw tears welling in the boy’s eyes. “Fine, sir.” The words were mumbled and Simon wasn’t sure if he could believe the statement or not. He had to talk to Patrick away from Hartley’s earshot.
“Mr. Hartley, we can get off your property faster if you’ll show Miss Holbrook around your farm a bit while Patrick shows me the house. That’s all we need to do today.” Simon tried to sound as harmless as possible while praying desperately that the man would agree and not run them off his land.
Cecilia didn’t mind that Simon volunteered her to tour the property with Mr. Hartley. After all, she had agreed to help in whatever way she was needed and she got the impression that Simon wanted a few minutes alone with Patrick. But she wasn’t at all happy that she had to handle the old farmer all by herself. The way that man looked at her made her skin crawl.
As soon as Mr. Hartley had offered a curt nod of agreement, Simon whisked Patrick into the ramshackle dwelling before she could blink. The old farmer cleared his throat before acknowledging her for the first time, his eyes raking her up and down. “Well, there’s not so much to see, but come this way.”
She followed him, stepping around muddy puddles that remained from the rain showers several days ago. She was watching her steps with such care that she didn’t see Mr. Hartley stop and ran straight into his back. A smirk twisted his face. “You better watch where you’re goin’. Hate to see you fall and ruin that nice dress.”
The way his gaze lingered on her dress turned her stomach. Wrapping one arm around herself, she tried to take a discreet step back while forcing a tight smile. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Hartley.”
The farmer motioned for her to go into the shed first. Cecilia’s mind screamed that it was a bad idea. She didn’t need to see inside the outbuildings. But she wasn’t sure how else to occupy the man until Simon had a chance to talk with Patrick. There wasn’t that much to see on the run-down property.
Stepping into the damp, dark interior of the shed, Cecilia stifled a shiver, almost tripping on the uneven dirt floor. She paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimness when she felt Mr. Hartley standing far too close behind her. Close enough that his dirty shirt brushed her back and the unwashed smell of him wafted around her. She wanted to retch.
Before she could step away, he grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. Again, he was too close, making her want to cough when his breath hit her face. “Seems we’ve got ourselves a minute alone, my dear. Why don’t we have a little chat?”
Trying not to panic, Cecilia tugged her arm but couldn’t pull away from him. “Actually, I’d like to get some fresh air. Please let me go.”
He raised his free hand to run dirt-stained fingers down her cheek, making her flinch. A rumbling chuckle erupted from his throat. “Going to play hard to get, eh? Well, let me tell you what I have in mind. Now that I’ve got that boy around, I need someone to care for the place for us. Why not the pretty little schoolteacher? You’re getting past your prime. Can’t be many other fellas lining up to claim you.”
This time she couldn’t stop the shudder that racked her body. The farmer laughed again and leaned closer still. Her eyes burned with tears that she refused to let fall. “Come on, what do you say? You get a roof over your head and the boy for company. And I get a clean house and warm meals. If you’re smart, you’ll take me up on the offer—”
With a sudden whoosh of air, Mr. Hartley was gone, leaving her arm aching but free from his grip. Cecilia wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to stop her hands from trembling. When she stepped outside, Simon had Mr. Hartley by the front of his shirt, lifting the farmer until he was on tiptoes. “What’s the meaning of this? Are you threatening Miss Holbrook?”
The older man raised both hands, trying to shake his head. “We were having a little talk, that’s all, McKay. Get your hands off me.”
Simon shoved him up a fraction of an inch higher against the shed. “Next time you should think twice about putting your hands on a lady during a conversation.”
Abruptly letting go, Simon stepped back while Mr. Hartley dropped to his knees and took a few deep breaths. “We’ve seen enough for today. Patrick has assured me that he’s happy to be here. But, Hartley, I’ll have my eye on you. One misstep and I’ll take Patrick back. We don’t tolerate any sort of abuse.”
Without another word to the farmer, Simon turned and wrapped one arm around Cecilia’s shoulders, supporting her as they walked away. At the buggy, he helped her in then briefly spoke to Patrick, who stood by the house taking in every move with wide eyes. Their voices were too low for her to hear what they said, but it was only a moment before Simon jumped up into the buggy and they were finally leaving.
Her mind felt numb in the silence that hung between them until they drove over the first hill and out of sight of the Hartley farm. Simon stopped the buggy and
