Coal River by Ellen Marie Wiseman Page B
Authors: Ellen Marie Wiseman
his hands in concession.
“You better be telling the truth,” the captain said. “We don’t want any trouble today now, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” Clayton said. “Least of all from you.” He glanced at Emma and nodded once. “Good day, miss.” Then he strolled away, signaling Nally to follow him.
The giant Irishman did as he was told. “Cheers,” he said, grinning at her as he moved away.
“Are you all right, Emma?” the captain said.
Emma nodded and started walking again, her heart still racing. The last thing she needed was another enemy, or to draw attention to herself in public again. Sally and Charlotte Gable had certainly already started gossiping about her, spreading the details of their encounter among the upper class of Coal River, talking in hushed voices about how she touched Charlotte’s arm to hex her with a curse. Emma didn’t need the miners against her too. She just wanted to be left alone until she could find a way out of this place. Thank God Clayton Nash had come over to interrupt the exchange.
Then Clayton’s handsome face flashed in her mind, and she wondered if her pounding heart was caused by fear, or something else. Certainly, she had seen other fine-looking men, but there was something about Clayton that made him especially attractive. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it—a mysterious, dangerous air perhaps, or the way he projected confidence with just the lift of his chin. Right or wrong, he was the sort who knew what he believed in. And somehow, in those few short moments she had spent with him, she felt like he was a man who could have ruled nations. Maybe that was why Uncle Otis saw him as a threat.
“Are you here with your aunt and uncle?” the captain said, following her.
“Excuse me?” she said, coming out of her trance.
He grinned. “I asked if you were with your aunt and uncle.”
“Oh yes,” she said. “And Percy.”
“How is good old Percy?” the captain said. “Still as prissy as ever?”
Emma stopped and looked up at him, suddenly realizing he had called her by name. “Do I know you?” she said.
He squared his shoulders and put his hands behind his back. “Of course you do,” he said. “I’m Frank. Frank Bannister. Captain Bannister now. Don’t you remember? I spent time with you and Albert the last time you were here. I’m very sorry to hear about your parents.”
She tensed. Was he one of the boys responsible for her brother’s death? She looked at the policeman’s face, searching his eyes for something familiar. Then an image came to her: Percy and the other boys laughing and pointing at Albert’s urine-stained pants. A thin, ginger-haired boy pushing Albert down in the snow, his lips curled in anger and disgust. It was Frank Bannister.
Bile rose in her mouth, and she nearly choked. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to go.” She started walking again, as fast as she could without running. How she longed for a sip of laudanum.
He followed. “It’s all right if you don’t remember me,” he said. “It was a long time ago. Just let me give you a little friendly advice. Stay away from Clayton Nash. He’s a liar and a thief, possibly worse.”
Then the two of you should get along well, she thought.
She was getting ready to tell him to stop following her when Aunt Ida appeared, wheezing and fanning her sweaty face. “There you are!” her aunt said. “Is it too much to ask for you to keep up? I didn’t come here to spend the day looking after you!” She grabbed Emma’s wrist and pulled her along. “Now, stay with us, will you, please?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“Save your excuses,” Aunt Ida said. Then she stopped and looked back at the police captain, as if noticing him for the first time. “Oh! Good day, Captain Bannister! Be sure and tell your mother I said hello, will you?”
Frank tipped his cap in her direction. “Will do, Mrs. Shawcross. Perhaps I can stop by to
“You better be telling the truth,” the captain said. “We don’t want any trouble today now, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” Clayton said. “Least of all from you.” He glanced at Emma and nodded once. “Good day, miss.” Then he strolled away, signaling Nally to follow him.
The giant Irishman did as he was told. “Cheers,” he said, grinning at her as he moved away.
“Are you all right, Emma?” the captain said.
Emma nodded and started walking again, her heart still racing. The last thing she needed was another enemy, or to draw attention to herself in public again. Sally and Charlotte Gable had certainly already started gossiping about her, spreading the details of their encounter among the upper class of Coal River, talking in hushed voices about how she touched Charlotte’s arm to hex her with a curse. Emma didn’t need the miners against her too. She just wanted to be left alone until she could find a way out of this place. Thank God Clayton Nash had come over to interrupt the exchange.
Then Clayton’s handsome face flashed in her mind, and she wondered if her pounding heart was caused by fear, or something else. Certainly, she had seen other fine-looking men, but there was something about Clayton that made him especially attractive. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it—a mysterious, dangerous air perhaps, or the way he projected confidence with just the lift of his chin. Right or wrong, he was the sort who knew what he believed in. And somehow, in those few short moments she had spent with him, she felt like he was a man who could have ruled nations. Maybe that was why Uncle Otis saw him as a threat.
“Are you here with your aunt and uncle?” the captain said, following her.
“Excuse me?” she said, coming out of her trance.
He grinned. “I asked if you were with your aunt and uncle.”
“Oh yes,” she said. “And Percy.”
“How is good old Percy?” the captain said. “Still as prissy as ever?”
Emma stopped and looked up at him, suddenly realizing he had called her by name. “Do I know you?” she said.
He squared his shoulders and put his hands behind his back. “Of course you do,” he said. “I’m Frank. Frank Bannister. Captain Bannister now. Don’t you remember? I spent time with you and Albert the last time you were here. I’m very sorry to hear about your parents.”
She tensed. Was he one of the boys responsible for her brother’s death? She looked at the policeman’s face, searching his eyes for something familiar. Then an image came to her: Percy and the other boys laughing and pointing at Albert’s urine-stained pants. A thin, ginger-haired boy pushing Albert down in the snow, his lips curled in anger and disgust. It was Frank Bannister.
Bile rose in her mouth, and she nearly choked. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to go.” She started walking again, as fast as she could without running. How she longed for a sip of laudanum.
He followed. “It’s all right if you don’t remember me,” he said. “It was a long time ago. Just let me give you a little friendly advice. Stay away from Clayton Nash. He’s a liar and a thief, possibly worse.”
Then the two of you should get along well, she thought.
She was getting ready to tell him to stop following her when Aunt Ida appeared, wheezing and fanning her sweaty face. “There you are!” her aunt said. “Is it too much to ask for you to keep up? I didn’t come here to spend the day looking after you!” She grabbed Emma’s wrist and pulled her along. “Now, stay with us, will you, please?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“Save your excuses,” Aunt Ida said. Then she stopped and looked back at the police captain, as if noticing him for the first time. “Oh! Good day, Captain Bannister! Be sure and tell your mother I said hello, will you?”
Frank tipped his cap in her direction. “Will do, Mrs. Shawcross. Perhaps I can stop by to