Page 94 of Just Imagine
As Sophronia watched the confrontation, prickles of dread crept along her spine. Magnus turned to her, but instead of the gentle, soft-spoken man she knew, she saw a tight-lipped, hard-eyed stranger. “Get back to the house.”
Spence stepped forward. “Now see here. I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
“Go away, Magnus.” Sophronia could hear her voice tremble. “I’ve made up my mind, and you can’t stop me.”
“I can stop you, all right,” he said stonily. “And that’s exactly what I’m goin’ to do.”
Spence sauntered over to Magnus, his walking stick with its golden knob firmly in hand. “I think it might be better for everybody if you went back to wherever you came from. Now come along, Sophronia.”
But as he reached for her, she was abruptly snatched away. “You’re not touching her,” Magnus snarled, shoving her firmly behind him. Then he clenched his fists and stepped forward.
Black man against white. All Sophronia’s nightmares had come true. Fear shot through her. “No!” She clutched Magnus’s shirt. “Don’t hit him! You hit a white man, you’ll be hanging from a rope before morning.”
“Get out of my way, Sophronia.”
“The white man’s got all the power, Magnus. You leave this be!”
He set her aside, but the gesture of protecting her cost him. Behind his back, Spence lifted his walking stick and, as Magnus turned, slammed it into his chest.
“Stay out of things that don’t concern you, boy,” Spence growled.
In one swift movement, Magnus snatched the cane and broke it across his knee.
Sophronia gave an outcry.
Magnus tossed the cane aside and landed a hard blow to Spence’s jaw that sent the mine owner sprawling onto the road.
Kit had reached the line of trees just in time to see what was happening. She rushed out, raised her rifle, and leveled the barrel. “Get out of here, Mr. Spence. Doesn’t seem you’re wanted.”
Sophronia had never been more grateful to see anyone, but Magnus’s face grew rigid. Spence slowly rose, glaring at Kit. Just then a deep, drawling voice intruded.
“Looks like things are getting a little out of hand here.”
Four sets of eyes turned as Cain climbed down off Vandal. He walked toward Kit with the loose, easy swagger that was so much a part of him and extended his hand. “Give me the rifle, Kit.” He spoke so calmly he might have been asking her to pass bread across the dinner table.
Giving him the rifle was exactly what Kit wanted to do. As she’d discovered once before, she had no stomach for holding a gun on anyone. Cain would see to it that Magnus came to no harm, and she gave him the rifle.
To her astonishment, he didn’t turn it on Spence. Instead, he took Kit’s arm and pulled her, none too gently, toward Vandal. “Accept my apologies, Mr. Spence. My wife has an excitable temperament.” He shoved the rifle into the scabbard that hung from his saddle.
She saw Spence’s eyes grow shrewd. The cotton mill made Cain an important man in the community, and she could see his mind working as he decided it was to his advantage to have Cain as a friend. “Don’t mention it, Mr. Cain.” He reached down to dust off his trousers. “I’m sure none of us can predict the ways of our little womenfolk.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Cain replied, oblivious to Kit’s glare.
Spence picked up his black bowler and jerked his head toward Magnus. “Do you value this boy of yours, Major?”
“Why do you ask?”
He gave Cain a man-to-man smile. “If you was to tell me you valued him, I’d assume you wouldn’t be too happy to see him dangling from the end of a rope. And seeing as how we’re both businessmen, I’d be more than willing to forget what just happened here.”
Relief made Kit’s knees wobble. Cain’s eyes locked with Magnus’s.
They stayed that way for several long, hard seconds before Cain looked away and shrugged. “What Magnus does is his own business. It doesn’t have anything to do with me, one way or the other.”
Kit gave a hiss of outrage as he scooped her up onto Vandal, mounted himself, and spurred the horse back up the drive.
Sophronia stared after them, bile rising in her throat. The major was supposed to be Magnus’s friend, but he wasn’t a friend at all. White stood together against black. That was the way it always had been, the way it always would be.
Despair overwhelmed her. She darted her eyes toward Magnus, but Cain’s betrayal didn’t seem to bother him. He stood with his legs slightly apart, one hand lightly balanced on his hip, and a strange light shining in his eyes.
