"Ma'am?"
"Yes?"
"Did you notice anything unusual in camp last night?"
Beth stiffened. She couldn't help it. "No. Unusual? N-no. Nothing. Why should I see anything unusual?" she asked defensively.
Lucas took his time answering her, looking at her frown behind his opaque dark glasses. "It's just that someone tried to break into the Gans' home last night and it seems there was a kind of posse out to get them."
Beth pretended to be busy with the books in her hand. "No, I didn't see or hear anything last night." '
"Uh huh. You slept in your camper?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Nothing. You must have slept deep."
"Yes," Beth said, somewhat frosty. I was quite tired."
"Uh huh. Well, if I was you, I'd keep my door locked at all times."
"I will, sheriff, and I thank you again."
"Never can tell, it could be hippies."
"Hippies?"
"Yeah. There's a whole commune of them back in the hills. Ain't like them to bother folks unless it's to come out and beg for food. Still, you never can tell. One of them might get doped up on something and wander down here."
Beth was interested in the hippies from the viewpoint of children and education. "Are they ever any trouble?"
Lucas shrugged. "Depends on what you mean by trouble, They keep to themselves a lot. Seldom come down unless, like I said, they beg old fruit and vegetables from growers and stores. If they got any dope, I can't see it. They picked their spot well, they can see any vehicle coming a long way off and they have plenty of time to hide anything. I go up there looking for runaways, usually."
"Are there any small children up there?"
"Yeah. They got a big family going and God knows who belongs with who half the time. Still, they don't break any laws."
"Does the county make any provision for educating the children? I mean, those of preschool age?"
"None." Lucas shook his head. "Have a hard time getting the school-age kids to show up. County goes looking for them and they hide. Spooky lot and I'm still not sure I know everything that's going on there. Best you stay away ma'am. Rumor has it there's plenty of drugs around hippies."
"Thank you again, sheriff, now I must get my classes started."
"Fine. Ma'am?"
"Yes?"
"You feeling all right?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"You don't look like you're feeling well."
"Oh? A touch of the flu, I think. I'll shake it off.
"Take care. That stuff is going around. Will you be spending another night in this camp?"
"I… I'm not sure. I mean, in all probability, I will. I haven't thought about it."
"Well, if you do, keep your door locked. Ma'am." He stepped back and touched his hand to the brim of his cap. He watched Beth walk off with an appreciative eye as her buttocks swung from side to side as she walked. He took off his hat, raked his hand through his hair and set the Stetson on his head at a business angle. That was quite a tantalizing little piece with a real proper manner and face. "Lucas," he said to himself, "something happened here last night and that young lady knows something about it." He walked to his patrol car and decided to radio headquarters and told the dispatcher he wanted all the New York authorities could give him on one Beth Carruthers, Caucasian, early twenties, extremely attractive, occupation school teacher, driving license number XLU34198.
He switched off the mike, looked up the Gans' house, looked at Beth's camper and shook his head. Part of being a sheriff was being patient. Something more than just a burglary attempt went on at or outside the Gans' house last night and sooner or later, he'd find out. Lucas gunned out onto the highway and commenced his daily rounds from sunup to sundown. Evenings, his deputy took over with Lucas coming in if help was needed. People had a way of hiding things about themselves from him. It was natural and Lucas expected it. He shook his head, thinking that he already knew more about people than he wanted to know.
Beth threw herself into the day, greeting the children with a grasping eagerness. She needed them far more than they needed her. She won their confidence and control in a short time. Soon, she had them clustered around her as she read them short stories. She kept the length of the classes relatively short, allowing periods for play and resting.
By lunch time, she was enchanted by the children and one boy in particular, Manuel, a little Mexican boy with black button eyes who was very bright and burning to learn how to read. "Learn me this," he would say, pointing to a word. In the afternoon, she spent time with individuals; Manuel in particular, for he was charming and very bright and she held him in her lap as they went through the alphabet and she felt an odd comfort and thrill from his young body.
Late afternoon came and the children were sleepy and getting irritable so she declared an afternoon siesta and soon, they were all asleep in the shade. All except Beth, who sat guard over them and thought of the night before. It was like being touched with the tip of a very immense and cruel pain and she flinched from it, putting her hands to her eyes.
A sound behind her made her jump. "Oh, you scared met!"
A young boy was standing behind her. A good looking young boy with freckles, clear blue eyes and a quiet cool smile that reminded her of someone or thing. He stepped back, saying, "Sorry, ma'am," in a quiet voice.
"It's all right," Beth whispered, pointing at the children and then indicating they'd better walk a distance from the open drying shed if they wanted to talk.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, if I disturbed you or anyone," the boy said when they were far enough; away from the shed.
"It's all right. It was just so quiet and I was… thinking. What did you want?"
"My name's Lonny, ma'am, and when I heard you was here I thought I'd come over and see if you had any books to lend. You know, I was hoping you'd be a lending library or something."
Beth smiled. "How old are you, Lonny?"
"Just sixteen, ma'am."
Her smile broadened. She found herself thinking something she had never thought before: he was at such a beautiful age; old enough and certainly big enough to be a man, yet still a boy. Big for his age, but still a boy. "Well, I don't have too many books for someone your age, but I could scare some things up. You see, I'm here for the pre-school children so most the books I have would be for their age."
"Oh that's all right," Lonny said brightly. "They're not for just me, they're for some little kids."
"Well, I'm going to see all the children in the county."
"I doubt you'll see these, ma'am."
"Why not?"
"They're back in the hills in the communes, ma'am."
"Yes, the hippies. The sheriff was here this morning and told me about them."
The sheriff's my pa, ma'am. I'm Lonny Lamont," Lonny said brightly, grinning engagingly and looking like such a nice clean-cut American kid.
"Really? How nice. Does your father know that you go up to the commune, Lonny?"
"No, ma'am, he doesn't and he sure would tan my hide if he did know." Lonny was charmingly honest and his grin made him look like his father. "I go up there when I'm hunting sometimes and I see those kids and thought I could do something for them."
"How nice, Lonny. Tell me something. If you were to take me up there, how do you think they'd receive me? I mean, would they mind my teaching their children to read?"
Lonny looked quizzical and scratched his head like his father. "They seem a pretty nice bunch. Some of them are weird and all of them are little nuts. I don't think they'd hurt anybody. Yeah, they might like it."
"If I wanted to go, would you take me up there?"
"Sure, only it would have to be this evening, tonight, because I'll be playing basketball every night for the rest of the week."
"Basketball? Really? I bet you're good at it. Mmmmm." Beth pretended to decide, when, in fact, she had made up her mind immediately. She didn't want to spend another night right in the camp and she didn't want to be alone until she absolutely had to. This way, she would have Lonny's company and plenty of children to pay attention to. "How far is the camp from here?"