Page 14 of Heart of Mystic Valley
Each woman accepted her role, and a few of the women rose to give them hugs and congratulations.
They had a plan, they had leadership, and most importantly, they had a group of women committed to being involved.
The meeting adjourned, and the women gathered their belongings, still talking excitedly about the library and their new Alliance. Faith walked to the door and opened it, letting the cool air rush in.
What she saw outside made her stop short. A group of men—ten or twelve—stood on the walkway, their postures rigid and confrontational. Among them, Faith recognized several prominent townsfolk: Farley Byrne, owner of Mystic Feed and Grain, Elmer Moss, the town barber, Attorney Braxton Reed, and Casper Jennings, Melody’s husband. Casper’s presence was a huge surprise.
The women filed out, their conversations tapering off as they realized what awaited them. One by one, they paused and took stock of the situation, their earlier optimism colliding with the stark reality of the opposition they now faced.
The men’s faces were flushed with irritation, their bodies tense with purpose.
The women held back, unsure whether to confront the men or simply wait them out. Whispers of “What do they want?” and “This can’t be good,” floated through the group.
Evelyn Graham muttered to no one in particular. “I thought Casper would be supportive, given Melody’s involvement.”
Maisy shrugged, her usual cheerfulness dampened. “Maybe he’s here to protect her. Or maybe she didn’t tell him.”
Mia Duval, ever the analytical mind, observed, “It’s one thing to have their wives express an opinion. It’s another for us to organize.”
Faith lingered at the doorway, her thoughts racing. Were they truly prepared for this kind of resistance? The Alliance had seemed like such a noble, straightforward endeavor just an hour ago. Now, the path ahead looked much more perilous.
Faith squared her shoulders and stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Raising a hand, she signaled for the women to wait. “Is there something you’d like to say?” she called out to the men.
Farley Byrne stepped forward. “We hear you’re planning to stir up trouble,” he said, his voice clipped.
“We’re just trying to improve our community,” Faith replied, struggling to keep her tone even.
“Your community?” Farley scoffed. “What about your families? Your husbands? They’re what’s important.”
The tension was palpable, like the charged air before a lightning strike. The women behind Faith stood in silent solidarity, waiting to see how this first test would play out.
“We want what’s best for everyone,” Faith said, her voice firm.
Then Doyle Shaw made his way through the women to stand next to Faith. “Gentlemen, let me assure you the women do have the best interests of the community in mind. Their first project is to establish a library in town. To start off, Naomi Beckett has donated a space in town, and I’m putting up fifty dollars as seed money. What are you men willing to offer in support of such an important endeavor?”
The men grumbled, their dissatisfaction far from resolved. One by one, they began to disperse, but the threat lingered in the cold night air. As they left the area, one man continued to stand toward the back of the group.
Arms crossed over his chest, his booted feet shoulder width apart, Joshua Beckett locked eyes with Faith.
Chapter Six
Faith descended the porch steps with the grace of someone on a mission. Joshua waited at the gate, his posture relaxed yet wary. Without a word, she linked her arm through his, and they set off down the main street.
The town of Mystic showed little activity on this Sunday afternoon. A shopkeeper swept the boardwalk with no intention of opening his store on a clear, crisp day. A mother herded children toward the family’s wagon.
Joshua and Faith made an imposing pair, the slender woman and the tall rancher, striding with purpose.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, breaking the silence.
“I wasn’t planning on it until I saw the group of men standing outside your house,” Joshua replied.
They walked at a relaxed pace. Faith glanced up at Joshua, searching his face. He met her gaze, and for a moment, it seemed he might say something more. Instead, he simply nodded, and she understood. Whatever his thoughts, he was here for her.
“Miss Goodell,” called a stout man from the doorway of the hardware store. “You reckon a library will put food on folks’ tables?”
Faith slowed, but Joshua urged her onward with a gentle tug. “Guess we’ll find out when the library opens, Mr. Harkins,” she called back, not missing a step.
“Balance,” Joshua murmured. “That’s the tricky part.”
