Jackson McClure sat on his sofa in the den and watched the start of the fire. He enjoyed laying the kindling and balled up newspapers in the fireplace beneath the logs. But his favorite part was striking the match and seeing that first spark ignite. The flames warmed his body and his mind. He loved hearing the wood pop and crackle as it burned. Jackson felt his eyes grow heavy as he watched the red and orange cinders working harmoniously with the yellow flames to produce a perfect fire. The door bell rang, breaking his reverie.

“I ordered pizza,” Parker called from the kitchen. “Can you get it?”

Jackson grunted and checked for his wallet. A second later something heavy slammed into the front door, rattling the frame. Jackson hit the floor hard and crawled to the hall closet. Retrieving his gun, he turned and nodded to Parker. The door flew open and Jackson pointed his weapon into the night. The odor assaulted him.

“What is that smell?” Parker gasped.

“It’s not pizza,” Jackson replied.

The exploded bag of cow manure covered the front stoop. A sheet of paper was on the door mat.

“What does it say?” Parker asked.

Jackson took a deep breath and read, “Welcome to Shenandoah County, boy. Stick with your own kind if you know what’s good for you. White women belong to white men.”

They considered the message in silence. After a moment Parker sighed and said, “I’ll get the bucket and a couple of mops. While I’m doing that, maybe you should check the calendar and make sure it’s not 1950.”

Parker McClure looked up from her computer and saw Sheriff Buck Timmons enter the library. She and Jackson had called the sheriff’s department the previous evening to report the incident with the cow manure. Timmons himself had taken their statement with an impressive lack of enthusiasm.

The sheriff walked over to Parker’s desk and said, “I’ve notified my deputies to be on the lookout for any acts of vandalism and to report them to me immediately. I’ve also contacted the state police.”

“Thank you, sheriff,” Parker replied.

Buck Timmons nodded. “We’ll also be increasing patrols in your neighborhood beginning tonight.”

Parker waited; Timmons appeared to have something further on his mind.

“Mrs. McClure, you and your husband should know that my office has been notified by the FBI that a white supremacy group may be operating in Shenandoah County. It sounds like this group may be responsible for what happened last night.”

Parker remained silent.

The sheriff shifted uncomfortably and said, “What I mean is that these crimes tend to escalate. You’re an attractive white woman married to a black man. This is a conservative town, and I have to say that I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Sheriff Timmons,” Parker said.

Buck Timmons turned to leave and then stopped. “We’re a friendly community, Mrs. McClure, we really are, but, under the circumstances, you and your husband may want to consider relocating.”

Parker returned to her work, but couldn’t concentrate. She replayed the conversation with the sheriff in her head. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It hit her as she was driving home; Timmons had said all the right words, but there had been no compassion or concern on his face or in his voice. A crime had been committed, and the sheriff had practically made her feel responsible for it.

Jackson McClure winced as Sarah Jane Howard poured alcohol on his cuts. They were sitting in the kitchen at Wild Pony Ranch. Jackson pressed an ice pack to his rapidly swelling eye.

John Howard looked at his newest employee and said, “We need to get you to the doctor, Jackson, just to be on the safe side.”

Jackson shook his head. “I’m not much for doctors. I’ll be fine.”

John Howard sighed and said, “You remind me of me. Tell me again what happened.”

Jackson explained that he and Atoki Starr had been mending fence in the east pasture when they ran out of barbed wire. Atoki had asked him to ride to the hardware store with him to purchase more spools of barbed wire and load them on the truck. Three men jumped him while he was wrestling with one of the spools. Atoki was inside completing the purchase when he heard the yelling. He and a couple of the store employees had come running and chased the men off.

“Did you recognize the men?” John asked.

Jackson shook his head. “No, but Parker and I are new in town. There are a lot of people that we haven’t met. I asked Atoki. He and the store employees agreed that the men were strangers in town.”

John Howard frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he said. He looked at Jackson and asked, “Are you able to drive?”

Jackson nodded.

“Good. If you won’t go to the doctor, at least go home and rest. I want you to take this afternoon and tomorrow off, with pay.”

Jackson started to protest.

John Howard held up his hand. “No arguments,Jackson. I look after my employees.”

They walked out together to Jackson’s car.

“What are you going to do?” Jackson asked.

“I think I’ll pay Buck Timmons a visit,” John replied.

John Howard walked through the doors to the Shenandoah County Public Safety building, and was met with an explosion of laughter coming from Buck Timmons private office. A moment later the sheriff walked out wiping his eyes. He noticed John standing in the waiting area and walked over.

“Hey, John, how are things at the ranch?” he asked.

“I need to talk to you, Buck,” John said. “Have you got a minute?”

“Come on back,” the sheriff replied.

Timmons listened as John told him what had happened to Jackson earlier in the day.

“What’s going on, Buck?” John Howard asked. “Jackson McClure’s been working for me less than two weeks and he’s already been beaten up and had a bag of manure thrown up against his house.”

“We’re working on it, John. I’ve got extra deputies on the streets, and I’ll increase our patrols out your way.”

“What’s this about?” John asked. “We’ve always been a quiet town, a friendly town.”

“Hate and desperation,” the sheriff replied. “We’re in the worst recession of my lifetime. The unemployment rate in Shenandoah County is thirteen percent. Now, to make a bad situation worse, two strangers move to town and get jobs right away. Jobs that thirteen percent of our local workforce can’t get. On top of that, they’re a mixed couple. Lots of folks see a black man with a white woman, and it makes them sick to their stomach.”

“I have twenty employees, Buck,” John said. “Fourteen white men, three latinos, two blacks, and Atoki.”

“The Indian?” Timmons asked.

John nodded. “Full blooded Cherokee,” he said.

“The point is, I would be happy to hire twenty local white men if they could do the work,” John continued.

The sheriff nodded in appreciation.

“Or twenty black men. Or twenty latinos,” John added.

The sheriff frowned.

“I guess I’m color blind,” John said. “I just want the work to get done. And, as for Parker, she has a Masters Degree in Library Science. I know for a fact that there were no competitive local candidates for the opening at the library.”

John got up to leave and the sheriff walked him out.

“Word of advice, John,” Buck Timmons said. “It isn’t always good to be color blind.”

On the way home to Wild Pony Ranch, John Howard let his mind drift. He was disappointed in the sheriff’s response to the attack on his newest employee. The anger and frustration coursed through his body like an electrical current. As a proud citizen of Shenandoah County, John was ashamed of the nightmarish reception that the McClure’s had received since moving to town. He reviewed his conversation with Timmons. Buck had seemed detached, almost indifferent, to the report of a serious crime. That made no sense. He was a sworn law enforcement officer, not to mention an elected official.

John Howard had known Buck Timmons practically his entire life. They had gone to school together and were teammates on the football and baseball teams. They were casual friends. John was a good student, college bound, whereas Buck was a troublemaker who logged countless hours in detention and graduated by the skin of his teeth. John went on to earn a business degree from Virginia Tech while Buck was hired as a Shenandoah County sheriff’s deputy before the ink on his high school diploma was dry. John thought that giving a badge, a gun, and a fast car to an eighteen year old boy was a spectacularly stupid idea. Of course, Buck’s Uncle Jake was sheriff at the time, so Buck knew he had a job waiting for him once he escaped from high school..

John sighed. Things had a way of working themselves out. Shenandoah County wasn’t a bad place to live. He kept telling himself that the rest of the way home.

“Hey, Parker. Hey Jackson,” Sarah Jane said. “Come in.”

“Something smells delicious,” Jackson said. “Thank you for inviting us to dinner.”

Five year old Emma Howard came into the room. “Hey, Miss Parker, Hey, Mr. Jackson,” she said.

“I found something that I thought you would like, Emma,” Parker said as she handed the little girl a book from Barnes and Noble.

Emma’s eyes grew large with excitement as she examined the picture of the rocking horse on the cover.

“It’s a story about a magical rocking horse named Moonbeam,” Parker said.

“What do you say,Emma?” Sarah Jane said.

“I’m going to read it right now, Miss Parker,” Emma replied. “And then I’m going down to the barn to read it to Dixiebelle.”

Parker laughed.

A smile tugged at Sarah Jane’s mouth. “What else do you say,Emma?” she asked.

Emma looked blank for a moment and then ran over to Parker. “Thank you, Miss Parker,” she said.

John Howard entered the room and Sarah Jane excused herself to check on dinner. Emma ran into the den to read her book. When they were seated John described his meeting with the sheriff and his frustration with Timmons lackadaisical attitude.

“I don’t understand it,” he said. “Buck’s not a bad man or a stupid man.”

Parker and Jackson glanced at each other but said nothing.

Suddenly, Emma came flying into the room.

“Daddy,” she gasped as she began hyperventilating.

Alarm spread across John Howard’s face as he held his daughter and waited for her breathing to slow.

Finally, Emma drew a shuddering breath and looked up at her father. “The sky’s on fire,” she said.

The enormous fiery cross banished the darkness as the flames reached hungrily for the sky.

John Howard turned to his wife and said, “Sarah Jane, you and Emma go to the safe room and lock yourselves in. I’ll come for you.”

Jackson and Parker were both on their phones speaking quickly and urgently.

John stepped out onto the front porch and watched as three figures emerged from the shadows. All three wore white sheets and hoods. John clenched his jaw and felt his hands ball into fists. Klan.

“Give us McClure,” one of the men yelled.

John started down the steps ready to take off the man’s hood and then his head. Three shotguns drew a bead and John stopped in his tracks. They stared at each other until the sound of voices shattered the silence.

“FBI. Drop your weapons now!”

The men looked around and slowly dropped their guns as a team of ten or more agents quickly moved in, Parker and Jackson among them. They removed the hoods and Jackson looked at the men.

“These are the men that jumped me,” he said to John.

Jackson held out a cell phone to one of the men. “Call your boss,” he said.

The man didn’t move.

“Now,” Jackson said.

The man took the phone and dialed. Less than two minutes later Buck Timmons roared up the drive in his Dodge Ram.

John felt sick to his stomach as he walked over to the sheriff.

“Jesus, Buck, why?” he asked.

Timmons remained silent, a smirk twisting his features.

“You’re a disgrace to your profession, your family, and your community,” John said. “You make me want to puke.”

“At least I’ve still got my looks,” the sheriff replied, his smirk firmly in place.

“Yeah, you’ll be everybody’s favorite girl friend where you’re going,” John said.

Timmons face reddened and the smirk vanished as he lunged. John easily side stepped the sheriff and whipped a ranch hardened hand hard across the man’s face. He felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage crunching and teeth loosening.

The sheriff howled in pain. As Timmons was being handcuffed John walked over and gazed into the man’s ruined face.

“Looks don’t always last, Buck,” he said.

John, Jackson, and Parker watched the flames die out.

“I never realized that fire is so white,” Jackson said. “I’m sorry for the deception, John,” he added.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” John replied. “You and Parker have made this a better and safer community for all of us.”

They shook hands and started to leave.

John cleared his throat and said, “There’s a place for y’all here if you ever get tired of chasing bad guys. I mean that.”

Parker and Jackson smiled and drove off.

John watched the fire flicker out as white gave way to black. He turned and walked inside to his waiting family