efforts. Immediately, he looked away. And as he did, words rose to his mind that helped drown out their impudent invitations.
‘‘Remove thy way far from her, and come not nigh the door of her house: Lest thou give thine honour unto others . . . lest strangers be filled with thy wealth.’’
At the remembered warning in Scripture, Matthew thought again of Johnny. He prayed he could talk some sense into his brother this time. Before that woman saw to Johnny’s complete ruin.
Two men working together outside the Willow Springs Hose Company No. 1 looked up as Matthew passed. They waved, then went back to polishing the red-painted wheels of the hose cart. Commercial buildings crafted of wood frame and stone false fronts flanked the street, and at the corner stood the Baird & Smith Hotel. The hub of Willow Springs’s business district had changed little in his absence.
Matthew stopped at the livery to board his horse, guarding his side of the conversation with Jake Sampson, the livery owner. Sampson knew more about the people of Willow Springs than anyone had a right to, and he shared what he knew with little prompting. Which might just prove advantageous today.
Sure enough, with casual mention of the couple’s last name, Matthew had all the information he needed, or wanted, about the husband and wife he’d worked for when he last lived there. The man, his former boss, had been a good friend. Or so Matthew had once thought.
At midmorning the main thoroughfare in Willow Springs bustled with activity, and Matthew welcomed the anonymity of a crowd. The boardwalk swelled with people. Wagons lined the streets, workers loaded and unloaded freight. Women wrestled baskets in one hand and children in the other. Matthew opted to take the dirt-packed street instead and moved to descend the stairs. He knew where he needed to go next and headed in that direction, welcoming the chance to sort his thoughts.
He’d said things in anger to Johnny the last time they’d seen each other, most of which hadn’t even been true. Matthew had simply been giving vent to his disappointment in his brother—and in himself. He had so much he wanted to say to Johnny now, and one thing stood out above the rest. He needed Johnny to know how much he appreciated all he’d done for him, especially when they were younger. Haymen Taylor’s harsh discipline would have broken Matthew physically, just as the man’s words had crippled his spirit. But Johnny had stood in the gap for him, time after time, and Matthew intended on making it up to him somehow.
Being six years older, a good three inches taller, and with a barrel chest that made him look even more imposing, Johnny had always been a bit of a hero to Matthew, despite their differences. Matthew admired his brother in many ways, yet he’d never told him that outright. Their mother had remarried after Johnny’s father died, and according to Johnny, her second marriage had been a hasty one. Soon after, their mother became pregnant with a second child—with him. Laura McCutchens Taylor hoped this new man in their lives would offer the financial stability she couldn’t provide and that he would be a good father to her two sons.
Both of her wishes had been met with disappointment.
Spotting the post office ahead, Matthew stepped up to the edge of the boardwalk and waited for the foot traffic to pass. Then he entered and closed the door behind him, amazed at the sudden quietness without the outside noise. He took a place in line and spotted an announcement board on the wall a couple of feet away. One advertisement in particular caught his eye. Two words written in capital letters across the top immediately drew his attention.
He stared, letting them sink in. He read the next few lines, then reached over and yanked the handwritten slip from the billboard.
Stepping back into the queue, he read the notice again and weighed his options.
The advertised job would pay well and offered guaranteed wages.
‘‘Remove thy way far from her, and come not nigh the door of her house: Lest thou give thine honour unto others . . . lest strangers be filled with thy wealth.’’
At the remembered warning in Scripture, Matthew thought again of Johnny. He prayed he could talk some sense into his brother this time. Before that woman saw to Johnny’s complete ruin.
Two men working together outside the Willow Springs Hose Company No. 1 looked up as Matthew passed. They waved, then went back to polishing the red-painted wheels of the hose cart. Commercial buildings crafted of wood frame and stone false fronts flanked the street, and at the corner stood the Baird & Smith Hotel. The hub of Willow Springs’s business district had changed little in his absence.
Matthew stopped at the livery to board his horse, guarding his side of the conversation with Jake Sampson, the livery owner. Sampson knew more about the people of Willow Springs than anyone had a right to, and he shared what he knew with little prompting. Which might just prove advantageous today.
Sure enough, with casual mention of the couple’s last name, Matthew had all the information he needed, or wanted, about the husband and wife he’d worked for when he last lived there. The man, his former boss, had been a good friend. Or so Matthew had once thought.
At midmorning the main thoroughfare in Willow Springs bustled with activity, and Matthew welcomed the anonymity of a crowd. The boardwalk swelled with people. Wagons lined the streets, workers loaded and unloaded freight. Women wrestled baskets in one hand and children in the other. Matthew opted to take the dirt-packed street instead and moved to descend the stairs. He knew where he needed to go next and headed in that direction, welcoming the chance to sort his thoughts.
He’d said things in anger to Johnny the last time they’d seen each other, most of which hadn’t even been true. Matthew had simply been giving vent to his disappointment in his brother—and in himself. He had so much he wanted to say to Johnny now, and one thing stood out above the rest. He needed Johnny to know how much he appreciated all he’d done for him, especially when they were younger. Haymen Taylor’s harsh discipline would have broken Matthew physically, just as the man’s words had crippled his spirit. But Johnny had stood in the gap for him, time after time, and Matthew intended on making it up to him somehow.
Being six years older, a good three inches taller, and with a barrel chest that made him look even more imposing, Johnny had always been a bit of a hero to Matthew, despite their differences. Matthew admired his brother in many ways, yet he’d never told him that outright. Their mother had remarried after Johnny’s father died, and according to Johnny, her second marriage had been a hasty one. Soon after, their mother became pregnant with a second child—with him. Laura McCutchens Taylor hoped this new man in their lives would offer the financial stability she couldn’t provide and that he would be a good father to her two sons.
Both of her wishes had been met with disappointment.
Spotting the post office ahead, Matthew stepped up to the edge of the boardwalk and waited for the foot traffic to pass. Then he entered and closed the door behind him, amazed at the sudden quietness without the outside noise. He took a place in line and spotted an announcement board on the wall a couple of feet away. One advertisement in particular caught his eye. Two words written in capital letters across the top immediately drew his attention.
He stared, letting them sink in. He read the next few lines, then reached over and yanked the handwritten slip from the billboard.
Stepping back into the queue, he read the notice again and weighed his options.
The advertised job would pay well and offered guaranteed wages.
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