Page 4 of Just Imagine
“I’m not a—” She caught herself just in time. “I’m not about to run,” she amended, scrambling to her feet. “Haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
Just then the moon came out from behind a cloud, and he was no longer a looming, menacing shadow but a flesh-and-blood man. She sucked in her breath.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and lean-hipped. Although she didn’t usually pay attention to such things, he was also the handsomest man she’d ever seen. The ends of his necktie dangled from the open collar of his white dress shirt, which was held together with small onyx studs. He wore black trousers and stood easily, a hand lightly balanced on his hip, his cigar still clenched between his teeth.
“What do you have in there?” He jerked his head toward the base of the wall where her bundle lay.
“Nothin’ of yours!”
“Show me.”
Kit wanted to defy him, but he didn’t look like he’d take well to that, so she pulled the bundle from the weeds and opened it. “A change of clothes, a copy of Mr. Emerson’s Essays, and my daddy’s six-shot Pettingill’s revolver.” She didn’t mention the train ticket back to Charleston tucked inside the book. “Nothin’ of yours in here.”
“What’s a boy like you doing with Emerson’s Essays?”
“I’m a disciple.”
There was a slight twitching at the corner of his lips. “You have any money?”
She bent over to rewrap her bundle. “ ’Course I’ve got money. You think I’d be so puerile as to come to a strange city without it?”
“How much?”
“Ten dollars,” she said defiantly.
“You can’t live for long in New York City on that.”
He’d be even more critical if he knew she really had only three dollars and twenty-eight cents. “I told you I was lookin’ for a job.”
“So you did.”
If only he weren’t quite so big. She hated herself for taking a step backward. “I’d better be goin’ now.”
“You know trespassing is against the law. Maybe I’ll turn you over to the police.”
Kit didn’t like being backed into a corner, and she stuck up her chin. “Hit don’t make no nevermind to me what you do. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Where are you from, boy?”
“Michigan.”
At first she didn’t understand his burst of laughter, and then she realized her mistake. “I guess you found me out. I’m really from Alabama, but with the war just over, I’m not anxious to advertise that.”
“Then you’d better keep your mouth shut.” He chuckled. “Aren’t you a little young to be carrying a gun?”
“Don’t see why. I know how to use it.”
“I’ll just bet you do.” He studied her more closely. “Why did you leave home?”
“No jobs anymore.”
“What about your parents?”
Kit repeated the story she’d told the street vendor. When she was done, he took his time thinking it over. She had to force herself not to squirm.
“My stable boy quit last week. How’d you like to work for me?”
