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he glared defiantly at the sheriff. “Lock me up for what I done if you have to, but don’t send me back there. I won’t go back to Mr. Belcher, I just won’t.” He was shaking with the intensity of his feelings.

      “Leo, who is Mr. Belcher?”

      Leo looked Eve’s way but for a moment he didn’t seem to really see her. After a heartbeat, though, his tension eased and his gaze met hers. “He’s the neighbor who took me in when my folks died. Only he wasn’t doing it ’cause he was feeling particularly kindly toward me.” The bitter edge to his voice was jarring coming from one so young. “After the funeral he told me my pa owed him a lot of money and since he couldn’t collect from him anymore, he aimed to see that I worked it off.”

      Eve’s stomach clinched as she studied the boy’s raggedy appearance and bony frame in light of what he’d just said. She resisted the urge to reach out to him, knowing instinctively he’d shy away from physical contact just now. “Leo, did he treat you badly?” she asked gently.

      The boy shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “I found out he was a mean old coot, especially when he was drunk.” He lifted his chin. “But I never let him see me cry.”

      Everything inside her cried out at that telling statement. Who would treat a child like this? She saw Mr. Dawson’s jaw tighten, indicating he shared her outrage.

      But Leo hadn’t finished saying his piece. “I finally figured two years of my working sunup to sundown should have paid off any debt my pa owed him, if he actually owed him anything in the first place. So a few nights ago I just up and left while he was still sleeping.” He gave them all a tight-jawed look. “And I don’t aim to go back, no matter what.”

      “And the watch?” the sheriff asked.

      Leo drew himself up. “I ain’t no thief. I took it because it was rightfully mine.”

      “Yours?” The sheriff retrieved the timepiece and examined it. “This is a mighty expensive-looking item for a kid to own.”

      “It was my pa’s. His great-granddad brought it over from England before he sailed here. He saved the life of some kind of nobleman and the man gave him that watch out of gratitude. My pa told me the story lots of times. He also said it would be mine someday.” His face twisted into a dark glower. “But then Mr. Belcher took it from me—said it would serve as pay for my upkeep.”

      “That’s a fine story, son, and I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but can you prove it?” The lawman’s tone was firm without being confrontational.

      “Look inside,” Leo answered. “Mr. Belcher tried to scratch them out, but there’s the initials CLH and the year 1807 in there. That’s my pa’s great-granddad Charles Lewis Haskins and the year he received the watch.” Then Leo shrugged. “If you still don’t believe me there’s likely someone back in Bent Oak who still remembers my pa carrying it when he went to church on Sunday.”

      Satisfied, Eve turned to the sheriff. “You can’t arrest this boy for taking back what belongs to him. Especially after all he’s been through.”

      The lawman raised a brow. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

      “I ain’t no liar.” Leo’s tone reflected his indignation.

      Mr. Dawson stepped in again. “Look, Ward, you must have some way of checking out his story. Until you do, we don’t need to be in a hurry to send him back, do we?”

      The sheriff rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I could make some inquiries. But until I hear back, I can’t just let the kid run loose. I mean, there’s no one to keep an eye on him while we wait.”

      “I’m old enough to take care of myself.” The boy drew his shoulders back and stood up straighter. “I been doing it the past two years anyway.”

      Sheriff Gleason shook his head. “Even so, I can’t just let you out on your own until we get this matter straightened out.”

      Eve laid a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I’ll take responsibility for him.”

      The lawman gave her a look that was both sympathetic and uncompromising. “No offense, Miss Pickering, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what kind of caretaker you’d make for a boy who might just get it in his head to run off again.”

      Eve turned to Leo. “Will you give me your solemn word that you won’t run away again as long as you are in my care?”

      The boy stared at her for several moments and she could see the internal struggle in his face. Finally he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, so long as I’m in your care, I won’t run away.” He glanced back at the sheriff. “But I ain’t going back to Mr. Belcher’s.”

      She turned back to the sheriff with satisfaction. “There. Leo won’t be any trouble for me to take care of while you work on getting this whole disagreeable situation put to rights.”

      Sheriff Gleason, however, didn’t appear to be convinced. “Miss Pickering, until we get to the bottom of this, we don’t really know how good his word is, do we?”

      She could understand the sheriff’s attitude. After all, it was his job to be suspicious and cautious. But deep in her heart she believed every bit of Leo’s story and she couldn’t bear the thought of him having to spend time locked up in jail, especially given what he’d already been through.

      How could she convince the man to see things as she did? Dear Jesus, please help me find a way.

      Aware the sheriff was waiting for her to speak, Eve took a deep breath, still not certain what she would say. But she knew she had to—

      “How about I help Miss Pickering keep an eye on the boy?”

      Eve turned and stared at Mr. Dawson. Had he just volunteered to help her save Leo? Maybe she had misjudged him after all.

      * * *

      Chance was as surprised by his offer as the rest of the people in the room seemed to be. He’d uttered the words without thought, spurred entirely by the urge to wipe the worry lines from Miss Pickering’s face.

      He was always a pushover for a damsel in distress. This wasn’t the first time that weakness had gotten him in trouble.

      But now that he’d blurted out his rash offer, he couldn’t very well take it back.

      The distressed damsel and Sheriff Gleason spoke up at almost the same time.

      “Mr. Dawson, that’s very kind, but I assure you—”

      “Are you offering to take responsibility for seeing the boy doesn’t run off?”

      Chance decided to ignore Miss Pickering’s protest and respond to the sheriff’s question instead. “Miss Pickering seems to think the boy’s word can be trusted and I’m willing to bank on that.” He gave Leo a pointed look. “At least until Leo gives me reason to think otherwise.”

      The sheriff eyed him doubtfully. “That’s all well and good, but how do you plan to keep a close eye on him?”

      That was a good question. But an idea was starting to form in the back of his mind. It was a bit unorthodox, but if he could pull it off, it would make him appear a hero with minimal effort on his part. And it might have the bonus of making for an interesting few days.

      “I have an idea that might simplify matters for everyone. But I need to check on something before I explain.” He turned to Miss Pickering. “Can you wait about thirty minutes before we eat?”

      “Of course. But what—”

      He didn’t give her an opportunity to finish her question. “I’ll explain when I return.” He turned to the sheriff. “If it isn’t an inconvenience, perhaps our visitors could wait here in your office? I won’t be long.”

      Sheriff Gleason took his cue and gave Miss Pickering a short bow. “Of course. You and Leo are welcome to make yourselves at home.”

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