Free Maureen McKade by Winter Hearts

mustache remained above his upper lip, and he dragged his worn coat sleeve across his mouth.
    “But you’d get to play with children your own age,” Libby argued.
    A whole cookie disappeared into his mouth, and it was a full minute before he could answer. “Naw. I like to play by myself.”
    Libby glanced at Matt and he shook his head in warning, his expression telling her she didn’t know all the facts. She drew her eyebrows together in question and again Matt gestured a negative reply. Her attention returned to Dylan. “I’d like you to come to school.”
    He stopped chewing and his sober eyes studied her with an intensity beyond his seven years. “Why would you want me there? I’m a—” he stumbled, “a troublemaker. My ma says so.”
    Lenore laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Your ma doesn’t mean it, dear. How could anyone as sweet as you be a troublemaker?”
    Dylan’s face flushed and he fidgeted. “The kids’lllaugh at me. I ain’t never been to school before. They’ll call me dummy and … well, other things.”
    Moisture gathered in Libby’s eyes, and she clasped her hands in her lap to keep from hugging the boy. “Some children can be cruel, Dylan, but not all of them are like that. And I’ll be there to help you.”
    Dylan’s eyes sparkled, but the light vanished a moment later and he shook his head. “I better not. Ma won’t like it.”
    Matt cleared his throat. “How did your first day of school go, Miss O’Hanlon?”
    Libby frowned and studied the child a moment before answering him. “I was telling Lenore I’ve got a couple of boys whose mouths are bigger than their feet.”
    Dylan stifled a giggle.
    “Them the two I saw chopping wood out back after school?” Matt asked. “The Olson boy and Hank Billings’ oldest?”
    “Those are the ones. I thought some physical labor outside might make them a bit more inclined to keep quiet inside.”
    Lenore withdrew a sheet of cookies from the oven. “You’re probably going to need a horsewhip for those two. I think they were the ones who drove Miss Kingsley and Miss Vanderhoff to marry so fast. Spare the rod, spoil the child, that’s what I say, and that’s what happened with them two boys. Their folks were so tickled when they were born, they gave them anything they wanted.”
    “They’re just plain mean,” Dylan said with a full mouth, scattering a few damp cookie crumbs across the table.
    Lenore refilled Matt’s coffee cup. “That could be, too. I seen it happen. A boy from a good, God-fearing family turned like a rabid dog, became a thief and murderer. His poor folks, they didn’t know what they done wrong, and I told them sometimes it happensand it isn’t anybody’s fault. The boy ended up in a hangman’s noose and I can’t say I was sorry.”
    “She’s right, Dylan,” Matt said. “It don’t matter who your folks are or where you come from. What matters is which trail you follow.”
    Libby listened to the conversation and wondered about Dylan’s background. “Where do you live, Dylan?”
    Matt interrupted his reply. “I’ll bet if you asked Mrs. Potts real nice, she’d get you another glass of milk. Miss O’Hanlon, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
    His enigmatic expression confused Libby. He led her into the sitting room, where a crackling fire burned brightly in the hearth.
    “What is it you need to show me, Sheriff?” Libby kept her voice cool, though Matt’s nearness had her more than a little heated.
    He closed the door. “There’s something you need to know about Dylan. He ain’t exactly like the other kids.”
    Libby remembered his threadbare clothing and her tone softened. “He shouldn’t be ashamed that his family doesn’t have much money. He can’t help that.”
    “His ma is the richest person in town.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Dylan lives in a …” Matt’s rugged face reddened. “His ma is a madam.”
    Libby’s forehead furrowed and she repeated