Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen

by Flightner, Ramona

  Tobias nodded. “So she subtly punished and embarrassed the boys who were trying to do the same to her.” At their shrugs, he asked, “Who were the boys?”

  “Tommy, Joey, and Jimmy,” Hortence said around a mouthful of chocolate. “This is so good, Uncle Tobias.”

  He grinned at her, as he handed her a cloth to wipe her mouth. “Joey and Jimmy are good boys.”

  “Tommy isn’t,” Mildred said with a scowl, as she nibbled at her half of her bar. She flushed when Tobias stared at her astute assessment of the boy. However, she didn’t retract her words.

  “You are so much like your father,” Tobias murmured, his voice filled with praise. “And Tommy is too much like his.” He smiled at the girls, as the bell over the door rang, and he moved to attend his customers. After they departed, he returned to them. “I’m certain your mamas are looking for you. You should head home and regale them with your first-day-of-school stories.”

  As they hugged him, he grunted in surprise, and he wrapped his arms around Hortence and then Mildred. “Come visit me again soon, my little loves,” he murmured.

  “We will!” they called out, as they raced from the room.

  After the door slammed shut, he stood in the stifling silence of the store, wishing for their sudden return. However, he knew Leticia and Fidelia would be looking for their daughters, and he had no right to occupy all their time.

  With a sigh, he sat on his stool and contemplated the short story they had told him about Miss Damon. He smiled, delighted against his will that she had so ably maneuvered the older, more troublesome boys. He imagined the boys had hoped she’d squeal and carry on, rather than calmly proclaim that the frog was an esteemed member of their school. Huffing out a laugh, he murmured, “Sir Hop-a-Lot.” The younger children must have adored Alvira for that.

  He considered his schooling, and he knew he would have appreciated such a teacher too. Instead he’d had instructors who preferred yielding a ruler for punishment and who believed humor and kindness were characteristics that led to a feebleness of character. With a sigh, he pushed aside thoughts of his schooling and hoped the girls would visit him again soon, with more tales of Miss Damon. Against his will, he realized he was quite intrigued by the new schoolmistress.

  * * *

  A few days later Alvira stood on the steps of the school, watching the children run around the schoolyard and play during recess. She closed her eyes for a moment to soak in the warm rays of the sun. She knew days like this late September day would be fleeting, and winter would arrive too soon for her liking. She shivered at the thought of a Montana winter and all it might entail. She had little love for the colder months of the year, and she forced her thoughts away from all that those cold months had cost her.

  When she heard a shriek, she focused again on the children, relaxing when she saw the girls and boys playing harmlessly. Alvira knew a few of the older boys had the potential for trouble. Although she suspected their parents would insist it was nothing more than mischief, she knew better. A bully was the same, no matter what town or state she found them in.

  With a smile, she recalled the children’s varied attempts to unnerve her. The frog had been a delightful surprise, and she had enjoyed watching the boys run around the small schoolhouse, chasing after it as it eluded capture. The mouse had nearly earned a shriek from her, but she had managed to contain both her shriek and the mouse, freeing it outside.

  Shuddering with revulsion, she considered that day earlier this week. She had seen Tommy Whitlock smiling at her with too much delight. Already Alvira had learned to recognize the cunning in his gaze that had nothing to do with his educational prowess or lack thereof. Instead she knew it had to do with his delight in pulling pranks. Thus she had been prepared for a snake or worse, when she pulled open her desk drawer, swallowing her instinctual shriek.

  Somehow Alvira had to find a way to rid him of his need to provoke chaos in the classroom, rather than to learn to read and to do basic math. She had difficulty understanding why he attended school when he had such a disdain for learning. However, she was determined he would end the school year better educated than when he began.

  Focusing again on the children, Alvira saw many now stood chatting. The exuberant energy of childhood had been spent, and she could again focus on teaching. “Children!” she called, clapping her hands. She smiled at them, as they scurried toward her and lined up. She fought a grin at their grumbling to come inside, even though many of them made a beeline for the water bucket, before sitting down at their desks.

  After she followed them inside, she moved to her desk and opened her drawer, jumping back a step as grasshoppers burst out. Rather than shrieking, she pealed with laughter. “Oh, what a wonderful surprise,” she said with a bright smile, as she stared at her students. “Who was thoughtful enough to bring me these fine creatures?”

  She looked around at their blank faces, ignoring Tommy Whitlock’s glower at her response. “Was it you, Mildred?” she asked. She had quickly learned that, although Mildred preferred the name Bright Fawn with her family, she wanted to be called Mildred at school.

  “No, Miss Damon,” Mildred said with a giggle, as she sat beside her cousin, Hortence.

  “Or you, Silas?”

  “No, Miss Damon,” the young boy of eight stammered out, flushing to be called on in front of everyone. “I’d never disrespect you like that.”

  Alvira made a noncommittal noise, although she smiled at his response. “Well, I have to say, at the moment, these poor grasshoppers are eager to return outside. Let’s help them, shall we?”

  She scooped one into her palm and heaved it out the open window. “Come, children. Help me free them,” she said, her smile broad. She lifted up little Minny, so she could toss hers out the window and could watch it flutter to the ground. Alvira clapped with glee, as she saw the children crawling all over, searching for grasshoppers, crying out with joy when they found one.

  When the last one had hopped away, Alvira turned to the class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Oh, that was a delightful way to spend a quarter of an hour. Now let’s use the impromptu visit of our jumpy friends to inspire us. I want each of you to sit quietly at your desks and to write a short story on your slates about our grasshopper friends, and we’ll share them with each other.”

  She peered at her watch pinned to her chest and said, “You have thirty minutes.” With a severe stare, she met Tommy Whitlock’s glare and motioned for him to start writing. Alvira wandered around the small room, rendering aid when needed, encouraging her young storytellers, and then leaving them to their imaginations.

  She had found that moments away from the McGuffey’s Reader gave them an opportunity to understand how they could use their education and ability to read and to write in a variety of ways. Alvira appreciated the structure of McGuffey’s Reader, but she also believed the children needed time to allow their imaginations to blossom.

  After thirty minutes, she called on each student, delighting as they stood and read their short stories about the grasshoppers’ visit. Some merely described what had occurred, while a few were fantastical, as they imagined how the grasshoppers felt. When she arrived at Tommy, he shook his head. “Tommy?”

  “I ain’t readin’,” he said.

  “It’s today’s assignment,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Then I fail,” he snapped, glaring at her.

  Alvira glanced at his slate, covered in markings but nothing that would make up a word, and nodded. “Fine. You’re staying after school today.” She shook her head at his immediate protestation about needing to return for his chores. “No excuses.”

  She turned her attention to the rest of her students, the remainder of the school day spent on basic reading and arithmetic. After school, she watched as Tommy rose but did not leave the schoolhouse. “Come here, Tommy,” she said, after she watched every child depart. “Sit down.”

  Alvira strode to the schoolhouse door, shooing away a few of
the boys who lingered, most likely in hopes of hearing her speak with Tommy. After shutting the door, she moved toward him. “Why didn’t you do the grasshopper assignment?” When he shrugged insolently, she said, “You can’t read or write, can you?”

  Tommy stood, taller than her, with ruddy cheeks and a panicked defiance in his gaze. “I don’t see why it should matter. My pa’s done well enough, and he ain’t bookish.”

  Alvira nodded, resting against her desk, as her fingers played against the wood. “Perhaps not, but I’ve found it’s every parent’s desire to see their child be more successful than them. To have more opportunities than them.” She paused, as she knew Tommy’s father was an itinerant laborer at the mining camp and rarely earned enough to keep them from near starvation. “You could do anything you wanted if you could read.”

  “I’m too stupid to read, Miss Damon,” Tommy said, before storming from the room and slamming the door behind him.

  With a sigh, Alvira rubbed her forehead. As she thought about Tommy, she wondered how much of his behavior was due to his shame at not reading and how much was due to the abuse he received at home. She let out another deep breath, before turning to the chalkboard to wipe it clean and to write out part of tomorrow’s lesson, her heart filled with sorrow for the boy.

  Chapter 4

  A few days later, Tobias swept the boardwalk in front of his store, watching with idle interest the comings and goings of the townsfolk and those passing through. Now that the railroad had made its way to Bear Grass Springs, more were settling in the town and the adjoining valley, some even searching for gold in the nearby mining camp.

  With a grunt of unease, he noted the new schoolmistress walking in his direction. Although Jane had admonished him to be courteous to Alvira, he found himself yearning for his previous cantankerous ways. For some reason, she made him crotchety, and he wished she would stay away. He knew that was irrational, as she would need to buy supplies from his store, but he wasn’t feeling rational. “Miss Damon,” he said, with a mocking nod of his head, as he continued to sweep the boardwalk.

  “Mr. Sutton. How remarkable to find you are a man who cares for his business.”

  Tobias stilled his sweeping, leaning against the broom, as he battled to keep his expression one of mild interest, rather than glowering at the woman as he desired. Today she wore a violet dress with black detailing at the cuffs and neckline that subtly enhanced her curves. He imagined she believed she appeared demure and professional. He lowered his gaze, as he admitted he found her fetching. “It’s not remarkable at all,” he muttered, raising his gaze to meet hers. “I wish to prosper, and the only manner in which to do so is to be diligent.”

  “Diligent?” she repeated. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say you were a dilettante.”

  Tobias tapped the tip of the broom on the wood, battling a mounting rage. Now when he looked at her, he no longer saw any beauty. Merely a woman intent on demonstrating she was content antagonizing all those around her. Was this how he had been?

  Focusing on her again, he forced a congenial smile. “I’m certain one, such as you, who clearly has such exacting standards, would never sully her reputation by shopping in my store.” Nodding in the direction of the opposite side of town, he said, “The other general store should be able to fill whatever you desire. Good day, Miss Damon.”

  Spinning on his heel, he entered his door, slamming it shut behind him. He listened but didn’t hear the soft footfalls of a woman walking away. Taking deep calming breaths, he attempted to still his racing heart and to rid himself of the shame swamping him. How had anyone ever forgiven him after all the times he had abused them? After he had spurned their friendship and belittled them for considering him worthy of such amity?

  He gripped his hands and took one more breath before walking to the rear of his store, ostensibly to arrange a display. However, he kept a tidy store, and everything was already in place. Deliveries wouldn’t come for another few days, if they arrived on time. With a sigh, he sat on his stool behind the counter, battling remorse at who he had been before and giving thanks for his second chance.

  * * *

  Alvira watched Tobias turn away from her, fighting the urge to follow him and to continue engaging with him. For some reason, he provoked all her worst instincts. She fidgeted with the cuff of her dress and took a deep breath. Glancing down the main street, she saw the other store, but she had no desire to traipse down there, when she knew Tobias had everything she desired in his store.

  Turning on her heel, she pushed open the door to the Merc and met his surprised gaze. “Unless you wish to bodily throw me out, I have a desire to purchase my required goods from you.”

  Tobias stood, his arms crossed over his chest, his pristine white apron covering his fine clothes, although he did not wear a suit coat, only a waistcoat. Alvira attempted to ignore his strong shoulders and the muscles in his arms, although she didn’t relish meeting his challenging gaze. She raised an eyebrow, as though daring him to throw her out.

  “What do you need?”

  She moved into the store and set her list in front of him. As he read it over, she moved to the side to finger ribbons and a few of the fabric samples. She yearned for a new dress, but she knew she didn’t need one yet.

  “Is there anything else you need?” he asked. When she shook her head, he huffed out a chuckle. “I’ve enjoyed hearing about your antics at school.”

  She twirled to gape at him. “How have you heard about them? You have no child in school.”

  He shrugged, his hip cocked, as he gazed at her in amusement. “Hortence and Mildred consider me an honorary uncle and visit often.” He flushed, as he motioned in the direction of the area where the candy was on display. “Often to charm me out of a treat.” At her answering smile, he grinned. “They chatter on and on about how you foil the older boys’ attempts to scare you.”

  Alvira made a noise that sounded like she was trying to conceal her amusement.

  “Why do you do that?” Tobias quirked his head to the side, as he studied her. “Why do you hide your joy and emotions?” He shook his head and waved his arm about. “You’re in the wilds of Montana. No one will care if you laugh, smile, or talk louder than a mouse.”

  Alvira stiffened. “I know what it means to be respectable, and I will not lose sight of that or risk my position.”

  Tobias grunted in disagreement. “Showing your enjoyment in life, your appreciation for being alive, doesn’t make you disreputable, Miss Damon.” He met her disgruntled glare. “It makes you human.” He paused. “It makes you a woman worth knowing,” he said in a soft voice.

  Alvira flushed. “How disappointing it must be for a man like you to be confronted by a woman like me.”

  “A man like me?” Tobias demanded, his cheeks reddened and his breath short.

  “Yes, a man who clearly desires a liaison.” She patted her heart. “I will not be your latest paramour. I won’t be any man’s love interest, easily discarded once the novelty has worn off.” She stared at him, daring him to contradict her. When he gazed at her in stunned silence, she hissed, “I will not be fuel for the gossip mill of this little town.”

  Tobias frowned, as he continued to study her, and then shook her head. “You’d cling to loneliness and a lifetime devoid of friendship to avoid gossip?” He rubbed at his head. “Who hurt you?”

  Alvira stood tall, her shoulders back, never looking more imperious or more like a strict schoolteacher. If the girls hadn’t told him how kind she was and that the schoolroom was filled with stories and laughter, he could easily have envisioned her with a ruler, turning children’s knuckles red.

  She shook her head. “I am not to be trifled with.” With that, she stormed from the store, her order forgotten.

  * * *

  October had arrived with beautiful fall weather, as birds flew south, leaves fell, and the resplendent larch lit the hills with patches of orange. Too soon, snow and winter would arrive, but, so far, Octob
er had been remarkably mild. Farmers had had plenty of time for their harvest, and the ranchers had enjoyed a dry fall roundup.

  Now it was late October, time to celebrate all the hard work with the Harvest Dance.

  Tobias entered the Odd Fellows Hall behind Ben and Jane and made his way to the large group of the extended MacKinnon family, standing to one side of the room. As usual, decorations were strung from the rafters, and a long table had been set up, laden with food and a bowl of punch. Musicians played in a corner, and dancers already twirled around the dance floor near the front of the Hall.

  As Tobias joined the group of MacKinnon men, he noted that the nearby MacKinnon women chattered about something that intrigued them. He smiled his thanks as Ewan pressed a glass of punch in his hands. He never bothered to sip it, as he knew it would be a sickeningly sweet concoction inspired by the late Mrs. Guerineau. She had passed away a few months ago, and the women of the Event Committee, as they liked to call themselves, were determined to honor her memory by serving her punch at every function.

  Ewan stared at him with a knowing smirk. “Ye ken ye’ll have to drink it at some point,” he murmured. “Although ’tis no’ what ye expect.”

  At Ewan’s subtle taunt, Tobias sniffed and took a sip. He sighed with pleasure to taste a hint of whiskey added to the concoction so that it wasn’t overly sweet. “How’d you manage this?” Tobias asked, as he held up his cup.

  “Ben owns the Watering Hole, an’ he charmed the women of the Committee. They have their punch, an’ we have ours. Although no’ poor Warren, the poor bugger.” He snickered, as he saw Warren grimace when he sipped the too sweet drink.

  However, Tobias knew Ewan and all the MacKinnons would have warned Warren away from the new punch, as Warren had given up drink years ago.