Daughters of the Summer Storm by Frances Statham (good fiction books to read TXT) 📕

staying here, but there is a note for you inside. Wait, and I will get it."

Puzzled, the old man waited outside. He gazed down the street at the lawman coming. And he was suddenly nervous.

"Here is your letter, Jake," Shaun said and made to walk on down the street. Jake, turning the paper over in his hands, hesitated. Then he began to follow the man.

"Suh, I never learned to read," he apologized. "I would be much obliged if you would open it and tell me what Miss Marigold says to do." He glanced at the man waiting at the corner, and then turned his attention to the auburn-haired man.

Shaun broke the seal and began to read aloud.

"Dear Jake,

"Get rid of the carriage and horses as fast as you can. Take them to Little Jim's Livery Stables and tell him I will get them later. The money I owe you is with Mr. Pettigrew at the bank.

Thank you, Jake. I owe you more than money for the help you gave me. Be careful of Crane.

Sincerely,

Marigold Tabor Caldwell"

"Thank you, suh," Jake said after Shaun had finished. "If you could just tell me where this place is—Little Jim's—I'll be takin' the carriage out of your way."

Shaun gave the man directions and then remained standing on the sidewalk, watching him turn the carriage and start down the street. The note bothered Shaun. Jake had understood Marigold's warning and was clearly frightened. But why? Seeing the carriage stopped a short distance down the street by the sheriff, Shaun hurried toward it. There was something wrong. The man was in trouble—and it had to do with Crane Caldwell.

"Is anything the matter, Sheriff?" Shaun asked, coming up behind him.

"Mr. Banagher." The sheriff tipped his hat and explained, "I have a warrant to arrest a horse thief and I believe I have the man."

Shaun laughed. "You mean my man here?"

"He is yours?" the sheriff asked in surprise.

"Of course. I'm afraid you have the wrong one." Shaun turned to Jake and, careful not to use the man's name, said, "Take the carriage where I told you, and then return to the house. I have something else for you to do before evening."

"Yes, suh. That is, if. . ." He glanced at the sheriff.

"You're not going to arrest my driver, are you, Sheriff?" Shaun asked in an amused tone.

"I guess not, Mr. Banagher. The man I'm looking for was supposed to be comin' from the up country. But the horses sure do answer to the description."

"A lot of bays look alike. You'd better get a description of the man, as well," Shaun advised.

He stood, chatting with the sheriff, until Jake was safely out of sight.

The pathway on Tabor Island forked, and Marigold stopped, wondering which direction to take. And then the decision was no longer left to her and Crane. For coming down the path was a man whose long stride was suddenly familiar, but without the limp. Jason. It was Jason. For a moment she had thought it was her father. Recognizing her brother, Marigold began to run.

"Jason," she cried, and he laughed and caught her up in his arms. And Crane, standing back, looked on disapprovingly at Marigold's unladylike behavior.

"So you were the one ringing the bell," he said, smiling at his younger sister, and then holding her away from him as he extended his hand to Crane. "Hello, Crane. It's good to see you again."

"You also, Jason. But I'm surprised to see you. I thought you were still abroad."

"I'm leaving in a few days to return to England. The Grand Tour is over, and now I must settle down to studying law at the Court of Assizes."

"Oh, Jason. You can't go just when I've arrived. It's not fair," Marigold protested.

"You should have come sooner, Souci. But we'll have lots of time together the next few days. You've never been here before, have you?"

"No, and I'm surprised that Maman and Papa decided to come back. I thought it was off limits to everybody."

"I'm sure the white-foot oysters and the shrimp wish it were. We've had a feast each night. That's about the only thing I remember from that one summer spent here when Neijee and I were little—the oyster roasts on the beach and collecting the shells."

"Where is Neijee?" she asked, remembering the slave who had grown up as friend and valet to Jason.

"He's at Midgard, working with the horses."

"For the races?" Marigold inquired.

"No. The tournament comes before that. I'll miss the race season this year."

As she followed Jason to the cottage, he conversed with Crane about the gold mine, and Marigold was content to keep quiet.

"I'm thinking of putting in a rail track with cars to carry the gold ore," Crane explained. "There is one owner in North Carolina who has done this, and it seems to be working well. It will certainly beat lowering the workhorse down the shaft each day and then hoisting him out."

"Who will you get to lay the track?" Jason asked.

"There are several companies—one here in Charleston that I will talk with. That's the main reason Marigold and I came. And naturally she wished to visit her parents before we returned to Cedar Hill."

Marigold kicked at the small piece of driftwood in her path and watched it sail through the air.

Jason laughed and returned his attention to his sister. "I can't get over your being married to Crane. It seems only a month ago that you were racing me down Biffers Road at Midgard, with your hair flying behind you. Has she become more of a lady, Crane, now that she is a married woman?"

"I think she is slowly learning to control her impetuous behavior," Crane replied. "Are you not, Souci?"

She hated it when Crane called her that. It was only for her family, not Crane. "My name is Marigold," she said haughtily to her husband, "Please don't call me 'Souci.'"

"Ah, you are becoming a lady," Jason said, "if you object to being called by your pet name. But I see