nothing. They jumped him.”
“I saw the two boys. They’d definitely been in a scrape.”
“Anybody could have done that. It wasn’t Billy.” Mac shook his head. “Lavinia wouldn’t have played favorites.”
Jake barely held back a snort. Mac wore blinders concerning his daughter and grandson.
Jesse Tatum spoke up. “Mac, I hate to tell you, but Billy is the biggest bully at school. He runs roughshod over the other children, and Lavinia lets him.”
A fair man, Jesse Tatum wouldn’t have said anything unless he felt strongly about it, Jake knew. Mac caught Jake’s eye. “That true, Jake?”
Jake nodded. Mac probably didn’t even know how Billy’s ma had lorded it over the rest of them when they’d been kids. “Yep, that’s about the way it is. It’s gotten worse as Billy’s gotten older.”
Sheriff Carter leaned forward. “Mac, school’s going to be out from now on until after Christmas. Why don’t you talk to Lavinia and see if she’ll reconsider? I’d rather she take all the children back willingly, but if she doesn’t, then she’ll have to suspend Billy, too.”
Mac sighed. “All right. I’ll talk to her. Maybe the whole thing will blow over after Christmas.”
Thankful they’d made some headway in solving the school suspension, Jake couldn’t wait to tell Livy the good news. Halfway there, he spotted Gus and Little Bit, pulling a small cart filled with coal. The old man stopped at the millinery shop and shoveled the coal bin full for the spinster ladies, then whispered something in Little Bit’s long ear. The two of them set off again. Out of curiosity, Jake followed. Gus made a beeline for the widow Peterson’s house.
Jake moved into his line of vision.
Gus stopped dead still, gripping Little Bit’s lead rope like a lifeline. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Jake.” No matter how hard he tried not to startle Gus, it seemed he always did. He moved closer. “You need some help?”
When Gus didn’t say anything, Jake picked up a shovel.
“You gotta be real quiet,” Gus whispered.
Jake nodded slowly. “Okay. I will.”
Why did the old codger seem so intent on keeping his good deed a secret? Jake did as he was told and filled the bin, keeping the noise to a minimum. When they moved out of earshot of the building, Jake asked, “Where do you get the coal, Gus?”
“Here and there.”
“You’re not stealing it, are you?”
Gus’s eyes grew round. “No, sir, Mr. Jake. I’d never do that.”
“All right. Then where you getting it?”
“You promise not to tell?” The old man squinted at him.
“As long as you’re not stealing it, I promise.”
“I’ve got my own coal mine.”
“You do? Well, I’ll be.”
“But don’t tell. If the other miners knew about it, they’d come steal it; then I couldn’t give Miss Maisie and Miss Janie and the others enough coal to keep ’em warm.”
“All right. I won’t tell.” Gus must have found a small deposit, or he’d be selling coal to the speculators shipping it to Chicago. “Do the ladies know you’re filling their coal bins for them?”
Gus shrugged.
Jake took that to mean no.
Gus and Little Bit kept plodding toward their cabin on the outskirts of town. Jake watched him for a minute, noticing the way Gus’s britches hung on him.
“Hey, Gus.” Jake loped after him. “Can you spare some coal for the jail?”
Gus studied him, considering. “I reckon.”
“Good. Bring some over in the morning, and I’ll have Miss Nellie fix up an extra breakfast. You like bacon or sausage?”
A shy smile lit Gus’s face. “Both.”
Jake laughed. “Both it is.”
He headed over to the orphanage and was disappointed to find Livy wasn’t home. Jake relayed the message to Mrs. Brooks that Mac planned to have a talk with Lavinia, then left for the boardinghouse.
When had Livy’s happiness become so important to him? His stride faltered. No other woman had ever made him feel like she did. Was it her smile, the tilt of her chin when she laughed, her hair, her eyes, her compassion for children?
Jake didn’t have a clue, but one thing he did know.
He wanted to see her again. Soon.
* * *
Livy held her skirt high enough to keep it out of the mud. She’d been to every decrepit shop in town today, asking about the street kids. Nobody knew their whereabouts or what, if anything, they might be eating. One kind woman admitted to giving them some food but couldn’t tell Livy anything else.
She stepped inside a ramshackle building touting itself as a café. Not much more than a shack, but the interior looked clean as a freshly