Sheriff ✔

Chapter 22

I pulled up to Mrs. Johnston's house the next day, a shotgun in the back seat of my car. I was on edge, to say the least, but I would try not to show it. My conversation yesterday after dessert with Evalyn's family bounced around my head.

"Mrs. Valdosta?"

I was surprised to see the elderly, black florist at my door when I arrived home from the decidedly awkward meeting with Evalyn's family.

"Officer, I apologize for showing up unannounced, but I thought it was important."

I mounted the stairs and unlocked my front door.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?"

She shook her head quickly. "It won't take me but a minute. How did everything go?"

"The flowers were absolutely beautiful and perfect, but I think I'm going to need to put in some serious work," I responded, laughing lightly.

"It's a hard thing for sure. They'll come around – you seem like a fine man." She smiled kindly.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"My pleasure, officer... Now, I came around to tell you about whisperings I've been catching ear of. There are going to be riders tomorrow night, which ain't nothing new. But they have a particular target this time."

She paused significantly. I furrowed my brows.

"Riders?"

"The Klan, sir." I sucked hard against my teeth.

"A particular target, ma'am?"

"Yes sir. A particular Negro target that may be involved with a certain police officer."

It wasn't until several seconds passed that I realized I had been staring at the woman intently. I sighed and averted my gaze.

"Thank you, Mrs. Valdosta. I'll take care of it." What I meant by that, I had no idea, but mean it I certainly did.

"Welcome back, Officer." Mrs. Brown answered the door this time around and seemed a little less frigid.

"Thank you," I responded warmly, stepping inside. The sounds and smells of the house quickly enveloped me, and my heart quickened at the thought of coming home each day to Evalyn and our future children.

"There he is!" the youngest brother – Darius I think – called from the kitchen. A chorus of "hellos" poured out as I removed my shoes and made my way inside.

"Good evening everybody. What can I do to help?"

"Just sit on down and enjoy this," Mrs. Brown responded briskly, placing a glass of lemonade at the dining table. Surprised at her hospitality, I smiled and acquiesced.

"Still interested in marrying Evalyn after your interrogation yesterday?" Mr. Brown joked, sitting across from me and receiving a glass of the sweet drink from his wife.

I chuckled. "I don't think anything under the sun could deter me from making her mine."

Mr. Brown nodded – approvingly? – before taking a sip. The two brothers joined us and all four of us began discussing general topics. I thanked God for the change in atmosphere between yesterday and today.

"So, you really want to marry a Negro woman?" This was the oldest brother and second born, Frederick Jr.

"Of course. Don't you?" I responded archly. I was met with hoots of laughter, and, glancing at Mrs. Brown pulling plates from the cabinet, I saw a genuine – albeit, small – smile touch her lips.