“Scandalous—” Mrs. Wallace admonished, and Judge Norton banged his gavel twice into her protest.
Gasps and cheers erupted from behind.
At the bench, the judge leaned over to speak with me. “Miss Lovett, it was Napoleon who supposedly said, ‘Show me a family of readers, and I will show you the people who move the world.’ Not long ago, I was moving down a different path, straight to the House of Reform. Yanking on little girls’ braids, fighting in the schoolyard, and sneaking liquor and raising Cain. But your mother changed all that with the books. From the first”—he raised a finger—“very first moment I saw her and that old, cranky mule ride into the schoolyard,” he mused. “She once said, ‘Books are the cornerstone to greater minds.’ And I will never forget what a difference the books made after she gave me a few of the Hardy Boys mysteries. They inspired me to pursue a career in law. Books’ll change you like that.”
He tapped the words onto his table and stepped down off the bench, then turned slowly around. “Hmm,” he grunted, knitting his brows. “There’s a problem.”
“Your Honor?” I said, the apprehension climbing back into my gut.
“I haven’t picked up their latest. Do you have it in yet, Miss Lovett?”
Free. I was still free. But the longer I stared at him, the more I glimpsed the mischievous little boy Mama had seen in the schoolyard years ago.
Checking his wristwatch, Mr. Morgan gently cleared his throat.
“Yes, sir, Your Honor. I came across The Crisscross Shadow just the other week. I’ll make sure to reserve it for you,” I said, relieved.
Amara, Pearl, Alonzo, and R.C. flocked to my side, congratulating me, hugging and pecking my flushed cheeks.
Pearl nudged my arm. “Look who’s here.” My eyes searched the small crowd in the back of the courtroom, and I caught Francis staring at me, a question in his eyes.
He pointed at me and then back to his chest and mouthed, Go out with me?
Though free, I had been pressed into early womanhood by the court and Kentucky law and would likely marry and bear children years from now, but for today, this moment, I wanted to be just a girl getting her first date. Yes, I mouthed back, bobbing my head, excited to do just that.
Pearl exclaimed, “Oh, Honey, we have to celebrate your freedom. We’ll have a party the likes this town has never seen!”
“First, I’m going on a picnic with that boy and eating me a tub of his mama’s prized banana pudding.” I looked beyond at a grinning Francis.
Miss Foster approached me slowly, hesitant in her steps. I searched her eyes, wondering if she would dismiss me from my job.
“Honey,” she said, digging inside her pocketbook, “Mr. Taft asked me to give you this for your personal collection when he heard I was coming today.”
“Ma’am.” She handed me The Golden Book of Tagore.
“Oren said it’s a 1931 signed first edition, and there’s only 1,500 in the world.” Miss Foster lightly tapped her approval on the book with a nail.
Speechless, I marveled over the cover bound in pale-yellow silk, tracing a finger around the embossed red and gold floral design. “It’s a treasure,” I murmured, studying the spine, noting the raised ticketed leather title.
She folded her hands. “Honey, I need to apologize. Tell you I’m sorry I listened to the lies of the sheriff and that wretched woman. Forgive me, I was an old fool. I didn’t realize your steadfast dedication, the vital services you have provided to your patrons. For poor Mrs. Gillis, her son, and others. I’d be honored if you would continue your mother’s important legacy with the outreach program. Honey, there’s always the thirst. And you and those books are sorely needed and will surely save a lot of people. If you stay.”