The Librarian of Boone's Hollow - Kim Vogel Sawyer Page 0,117
her blue eyes brighten. “How could I not’ve known how Burke was hurtin’ her? Rosie was my best friend. I knew how her maw whaled on her, an’ I knew Burke spoke rough. Heard him myself an’ didn’t like her puttin’ up with such. I told Rosie so, too.” Horror flooded her expression. “You reckon that’s why she never told me he was doin’ more’n rough talk? ’Cause she thought I blamed her?”
Emmett reached across the table and placed his hands over Maw’s. “I reckon she didn’t tell you for the same reason Bettina never told anybody. She felt shameful about it and didn’t want anyone to know.” He closed his eyes for a moment, searching his memory, then looked his mother in the eyes. “In my psychology class, the professor told us that people often don’t admit they’re being abused because they think they caused it somehow by what they did or didn’t do. They don’t want others, especially others they admire, to know how worthless they are.”
Maw jerked her hands free. “Rosie wasn’t worthless! An’ neither is Bettina.”
He rounded the table and knelt next to Maw. “Of course not. No one’s worthless in God’s eyes.” Not even Burke Webber. The truth drew him up short. He struggled to regain his train of thought. “But when someone treats you bad over and over, you start feeling worthless. That’s probably what happened to Rosie and Bettina. They didn’t tell you not because they don’t trust you but because they admire you and want you to admire them.”
Maw gazed into his eyes for several seconds, her brows pulled low and her lips pressed into a thin line. Then she shook her head and sighed. A deep, regretful sigh. “I wish she’d told me, Emmett. Maybe she’d be alive today if she’d just told.”
Emmett rose and placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We can’t do anything more for Rosie, but we can help Bettina. And we will by—”
“Gal, why don’t I smell supper cookin’?” The roar came from outside the cabin, and then Burke stormed in. He slid to a stop and aimed his angry glare at Emmett. “What’re you doin’ in here? Did Bettina let you in?” He tossed his scowl left and right. “Bettina? Where are you, gal? You know better’n to have folks in when I ain’t home.”
Maw stood. “Burke, stop your bellowin’. Bettina ain’t here. We let ourselves in. The door wasn’t locked.”
His lips curled into a derisive snarl. “Locked or not, you wasn’t invited. That’s trespassin’.”
“Maybe it is, but least we didn’t hurt nobody by comin’ in.”
Burke growled under his breath.
Emmett had brought Maw for Bettina’s sake, but he hadn’t expected her to confront Burke. Her love for Rosie and Bettina emboldened her. But she was stoking Burke’s fury fire. He stepped between them. “Burke, we’re here about Bettina.”
He stomped to the standing cupboard in the corner and pawed through it. “She fall off the mule an’ hurt herself?”
His lack of concern stirred Emmett’s compassion for Bettina and raised his ire at the man. He prayed for calm and patience before answering. “No, she didn’t hurt herself. But you’ve been hurting her.”
Burke stopped all movement. Then he slowly turned and sent a menacing glare at Emmett. “What’s she been tellin’ you?”
“She hasn’t said a word. But her bruises speak for themselves.”
Burke snorted a laugh. “Oh, law, that?” He turned his attention to the cupboard and pulled out a can. He ambled toward the stove. “Girl’s as clumsy as a newborn colt. Always bumpin’ into things or droppin’ somethin’.” He clanked the can onto the iron stove. He dug in his pocket, withdrew a pocketknife, and pried at the can’s lid. “I tell you what, though. I might take a stick to her when she gets in tonight. She knows she’s s’posed to come on home an’ get supper cookin’. She’s always been dim witted, but since you took over at the lib’ary, Emmett, she’s been downright addlebrained. Needs a good hidin’ to knock some sense into her.”
Maw pushed Emmett aside. “Is that why you beat Rosie? To knock sense into her?”
He spun toward them, the little knife gripped in his fist. “What happens between a man an’ his woman is just that—between them. So you best hush your talk, Damaris.”
The knife blade shining in the lamplight gave Emmett chills. He stepped in front of Maw again, but she scuttled around him. Normally as docile and delicate as a hummingbird, now she puffed up