Rexanne Becnel Read Online Free

All too soon the parents began to arrive from near and far. Many had come into town on the early train from Shreveport or had arrived the night before and stayed at one of the hotels there. Now they milled about the grand old house, walking with their daughters in the far-flung gardens or sitting on the deep porch that circled the house, in one of the many rockers and wicker settees there.
    Lemonade and punch were served on the front porch along with a pretty selection of finger sandwiches, biscuits, and sweet muffins. Mrs. Gunter had outdone herself in the kitchen.
    Ada circulated among the gathering, putting everyone at their ease with her sweet smile and always pleasant manner. Mr. Fontenot was at his most charming, and the entire staff seemed at their best.
    Lacie even began to relax a bit herself after accepting numerous condolences for her sudden loss. Everything seemed to be going all right. It only remained for her to get through delivering her remarks to the graduates, and of course she must address the situation caused by Frederick’s death.
    Finally, she signaled to Ada, and the small mealtime bell was sounded. Amid much giggling from the girls and jostling for the best position, everyone slowly made their way into the big parlor. Lacie took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking nerves. Everything would be fine, she told herself. It would all turn out fine.
    She was about to enter the house when something made her pause. A small shiver snaked up her spine, and she glanced back over her shoulder. The scene looked peaceful enough: the well-tended gardens and lawns of the school; the azalea-bordered drive stretching down to the two huge oaks at the edge of the road.
    But when she saw a rider, her heart’s pace unaccountably quickened. He looked respectable enough: his black jacket was open as he rode, and a dark flat-brimmed hat shaded his face. But she knew at once—either from instinct or from a sense of foreboding—that he was trouble. Perhaps it was the ease with which he sat his horse, a huge black steed of striking lines and obviously high spirits. Perhaps it was the determined set of his wide shoulders as he drew nearer to the school building. Man and beast, both dark as night in the midday sun, seemed an ominous threat.
    Lacie blinked once, then again, and tried to focus through the blurring lenses of Frederick’s glasses. Surely her imagination was running away with her, she told herself. She squinted to see him better, but all she could ascertain was that he was not someone she knew.
    She told herself he was no one she need worry about—only perhaps a tardy relative come to the graduation festivities. But then he turned his mount from the drive and cantered up the low hill toward the Kimbell family cemetery.
    Lacie’s heart stopped in that moment. She watched in rising panic as he reined in his powerful steed, then dismounted and removed his hat.
    She knew then, with a sinking sense of doom, that he was no graduation guest come late to the ceremony. No, he had come on account of Frederick’s death. And on account of her.
    She jumped in alarm when Ada took her arm.
    “There you are,” her friend whispered. “We must get things going, for Judge Landry says he hasn’t time to linger.”
    Lacie’s hand went to her throat nervously. It took all her effort to tear her eyes away from the dark figure silhouetted on the hill.
    “Oh, bother Judge Landry!” she finally muttered. “He’s forever in a rush and therein lies all of Jessica’s anxiety.”
    “But you can’t afford to offend him. He has three more little girls at home.”
    Lacie grimaced. Depending upon who that man was and what he intended, Judge Landry’s three little girls might be the least of her concerns. Still, she had to be practical. There were some things she would never like about running Sparrow Hill School—and coddling difficult parents was most certainly one of them.
    She took a long breath. Then with one last uneasy