His Prairie Sweetheart

by Erica Vetsch

  He blinked, brought back to the church service, a thousand questions jamming into his mind. Girard, the same name as on the envelope he’d seen.

  She pressed her lips together, glanced at the names and shoved the bookmark into the back of her Bible before returning her attention to the sermon.

  She looked so sweet and innocent, but what secrets was she hiding?

  Chapter Eleven

  “C’mon, Cap. It’s cold and I want to get home.” Elias whistled for the dog and struck out for the livery. The bad mood he’d been toting around for the last week or so—ever since he’d seen “Girard loves Savannah”—lingered over him like a storm cloud.

  Hunching his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets, he trudged through the snow. The storm had started last night and fat, wet flakes were still falling, piling up. It wasn’t bitterly cold, probably midtwenties, with lots of moisture in this storm. But cold enough for early December.

  “Elias, you want your horse?” the livery owner asked as Elias ducked in out of the snow.

  “Yep, but I’ll get him.”

  “You think this snow will last?” He pitched a forkful of hay over a stall door.

  “Hard to say. It’s plenty wet.” Elias took his bridle from the peg beside Buck’s door. Captain stood in the center aisle and shook, scattering snow and water in a wide arc that included Elias. “Knock it off, boy.” He scrubbed his dog’s wide head and rubbed behind his ears. Cap’s mouth split in a grin, and his tongue lolled as he plopped down to enjoy the attention.

  “Children will be happy. A white Christmas, maybe?”

  “Maybe. I won’t be back tonight. Going to stay out at the farm.” Elias led Buck out of his stall and tied him before running a brush over his back and saddling him up.

  “Tell your folks I said hello.”

  Elias opened the big doors and took Buck outside, swinging into the saddle and tipping his hat to the livery owner. He pulled his collar higher around his ears and pointed Buck in the direction of the farm.

  Snow fell all around him, muffling noise, blanketing the landscape and obscuring its features. Elias loved the snow, the crisp cleanness, the freshness. He loved postholing his way through deep drifts in the bright sunshine after a big snowfall. He loved the artful way the wind sculpted the piles into ridges and swales. He loved sitting by the fire and hearing the wind howl and the snow scour the roof and walls, trying to get in but unable.

  But he also respected the snow and the cold. He dressed for it, he watched the horizon and the barometer, and he planned and prepared for it, as did anyone who lived in this climate. To do less was to court disaster.

  Elias could barely make out the white schoolhouse in the snowy gusts and low light as he passed by. Saturday, the place would be deserted, anyway. Inevitably, thoughts of Savannah invaded his mind. He’d wrestled all week with his doubts and fears about her, and in the end, after much prayer, he’d determined to wait. If she lasted through the winter here, come spring he’d get the whole story. If she decided winters here were too tough, home too far away, and decided to leave, then there was no point letting himself get in any deeper. He’d bide his time, watch and wait. He’d learned to be cautious.

  Buck shook his head, jingling the bit, snorting out clouds of hot breath. The wind had swung around to the northwest, and the snowflakes weren’t as fat and soft now. Elias anchored his hat and ducked his head into the gusts. His hands and feet began to feel the cold as the temperature dropped.

  Cap had been nosing around, plowing through the snow, bounding from one side of the road to the other, squandering energy like a playful puppy, but now he stopped, stuck his nose in the air and barked. Shooting off the road and through the ditch, he headed back in the direction of the schoolhouse.

  Now was no time to be chasing rabbits. Elias called to him, but to no avail. Finally, he ripped off his glove, put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle that had Buck sidling in the half-foot-deep snow and swishing his tail.

  Through the wind, Cap’s bark came, faint and insistent. What had he found? Elias swung his horse around and headed back toward the school. Perhaps there was another animal taking refuge under the porch. Please, Lord, don’t let it be another skunk.

  The woofs grew louder, and Elias urged Buck on. Uneasiness rippled through his chest as the barking grew sharper. No sign of the dog in front of the school. He rode around to the back.

  A dark shape huddled beside the pump. Cap whined and ran to Elias, then back to the form. Elias was off his horse and plowing through the snow, his heart thudding.

  “Savannah?”

  “Elias, oh thank...you...Lord!” She lifted her face to his, white from cold, her teeth chattering.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Stuck.” The words came out on a stumbling sob. “Wet hands.”

  Her lips were blue and obviously too stiff to talk. Elias touched her bare hands, firmly frozen to the pump handle. “Hang on. I’ll get you free.” He turned and plowed through the snow toward the schoolhouse, praying there was some water in the drinking crock and that she’d lit the stove.

  A warm blast of air hit him when he opened the front door. She must’ve been washing the floors. Her scrub brush lay in the doorway. The priming pail sat beside the door, full to the brim. He snatched it up and hurried outside, splashing water in his haste.

  She crouched by the pump, sobbing softly, and Cap crowded close, whining and wriggling. Snow covered her shoulders and hair, and her coat hung open.

  “I’m here. Can you stand?”

  She shook her head. “Legs numb.”

  “I’ll try to do this without getting you too wet. I’m going to pour water on your hands. It should melt the ice and you’ll be free.” Elias lifted the bucket and poured a small stream onto her topmost hand. She gave a small cry as the water hit her skin. He increased the flow, and one by one, her fingers released from the frozen metal.

  Elias threw the bucket aside and reached for her, lifting her into his arms and striding toward the schoolhouse. He slipped on the steps and nearly fell, but righted himself. Using his foot, he shut the door behind them and stood with her in his arms, eyes closed, resting for a moment. His heart still pounded away in his chest, and he took a deep breath.

  Her head lay on his shoulder, snow-covered and pale. Blue tinged her lips, and her cheeks looked ashen. The danger wasn’t over yet.

  Carrying her into the schoolroom, he set her in the corner farthest from the stove. “I’ll be back.” He caressed her hair, brushing off the snow. Then he hurried outside. He led Buck into the lean-to and gave him a forkful of hay. Then he ran through the deepening snow to the pump to fetch the priming pail, which he filled with fresh snow.

  Captain wriggled and whined, following him from task to task. Elias took a moment to pat the dog’s head. “You can come inside. I don’t think she’ll mind this time.”

  Together they entered the schoolhouse, and Elias kicked the scrub brush out of his way. Captain trotted into the schoolroom, and Elias grabbed the only garments he could find in the cloakroom, a couple hooded capes the children had left behind.

  “Savannah?”

  No answer. Captain had gone right to her, laying down beside her and scooting close, instinctively sharing his warmth.

  Elias called across the room, “Savannah, talk to me. Don’t you go to sleep, you hear me? We have to thaw you out and get you warm.” He spread the cloaks on the desks nearest the fire to warm, poked the coals and added more fuel, then brought the bucket of snow to where he’d left her.

  “Savannah, you have to wake up. You can’t sleep now.”

  She opened her eyes slowly, her lashes fluttering. “Elias?” she whispered.

  “That’s right.” He crouched beside her. “Let’s get you out of this wet coat
.” Her lethargy concerned him. How long had she been out there? “Savannah, sit up. Help me with your coat.”

  She behaved as if in a dream, as if she had to think hard before every movement. Slipping first one arm, then the other from her navy blue woolen coat, she sighed and shivered. A good sign. When the body stopped shivering, it was time to really worry.

  “This is going to hurt, but we have to thaw your hands slowly.” He reached into the bucket of snow and took up a handful. “I’m going to rub your hands. Tell me when you start to feel something.” Her fingers were white and stiff, and she gave no resistance when he chafed them with the snow.

  After a few minutes, she whimpered. Captain sat up, leaning into her, sniffing her face and hair and giving her cheek a swipe with his raspy tongue.

  “Can you feel that?” Elias squeezed her fingers.

  Savannah nodded. “Hurts.”

  Relief charged through him. “Good. It means the blood is flowing again.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was going to hurt worse soon.

  “Can’t feel my feet.”

  Elias shoved aside her hems and petticoats to get to her shoes. “How do you even get these things off?” The buttons were impossibly small. In the end he managed them and peeled off her stockings. “I’m sorry, but we have to get your feet warmed, too.”

  Her feet were tiny...and pale. He rubbed first one, then the other between his palms. Almost immediately she shifted her weight and frowned. “They’re tingling.”

  “That means they’re not frozen. Hang on.” He brought one of the warmed cloaks and wrapped it around her lower limbs and feet. “It’s your hands I’m worried about.” He unbuttoned her cuffs and shoved them up, and then began rubbing her forearms and wrists, pulling downward toward her hands, trying to get the blood moving.

  “What were you doing out there with your coat open and no gloves?” He continued to work on her hands.

  “Needed one last bucket of water. Just ran outside for a minute.” Twin tears leaked from her eyes and tracked down her cheeks, cheeks that had begun to show a little color. Her hands, too, had gone from grayish-white to dull pink to angry red.

  “So you decided to go outside in the teeth of a snowstorm for one last bucket of water, with wet hands and an unbuttoned coat? And you grabbed a frozen pump handle? Haven’t you got more sense? Even little Ingrid knows not to touch bare metal when it’s this cold, even without wet hands.” It made Elias feel better to scold Savannah...until she sobbed in earnest.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Her shoulders shook, and her hair fell over her face as her chin tucked toward her chest. “I thought I would die out there. I tried to pull free but I couldn’t. At first it hurt too much, and then I couldn’t feel anything at all.”

  “It was a blessing Cap found you.” Elias stopped rubbing, opened up his coat and sat back against the wall, spreading his legs before him. Reaching for her, he gathered her up and settled her on his lap, wrapping the open sides of his coat around her, tucking her head under his chin.

  She smelled of snow and soap and female. He freed a couple buttons on his shirt and nestled her frigid hands against his chest. The cold bit through his long johns, and he winced.

  “I’m lucky you found me.” Her breath whispered against his throat. “No, not lucky. Blessed. I prayed, and God sent you.”

  * * *

  Things grew worse before they got better in the days right after her trial. The ride to the Halvorsons’ was torture for Savannah. Elias had bundled her up in her coat and the extra cloaks, and had taken her up before him on his horse, but still the cold got through.

  The pain was intense, especially the first few nights. Her hands swelled and burned and ached. Everyone kept telling her how the pain was a good sign, but it was difficult to see it as such. She stayed home from church the next morning, the first time she’d missed a service since coming to Snowflake.

  Monday morning, however, she was determined to go to school. She could’ve stayed away, since it was the day Elias was supposed to start teaching the parochial term, but she wanted to be there.

  Mrs. Halvorson popped two hot baked potatoes into her pockets for the walk to the schoolhouse. Lars took the lunch pail and headed out first, breaking a fresh trail through the snow for Rut and Savannah.

  Everything sparkled in the sunshine. Millions of rainbows glittered on the snow, and the sky was a clear, deep blue. The wind had died down in the night, and Savannah stopped and turned in a slow circle. The vastness of the open prairie made her feel small. She drew a deep, clean breath, the icy air flowing into her lungs like water.

  Though her hands hurt, and she’d had to wear a pair of Mr. Halvorson’s gloves because her fingers had swollen so much, she couldn’t help but be grateful. Grateful to be alive. Grateful to be here in this place at this time.

  Snow clung to her skirts and long coat, but the exercise of plowing through it had her cheeks warm and her blood pumping.

  “Are you looking forward to school today, Rut? Something different?”

  The girl looked back over her shoulder, her braids swinging from beneath her woolen cap, her eyes squinted against the snow glare. “Ja, I like church school. Singing und Bible stories.”

  And Elias. Rut doted on Elias. Savannah was eager to see him again, as well. He was her rescuer. If he hadn’t come by when he did, if he hadn’t known what to do, she would’ve died there in the snow and cold. Savannah didn’t know how to thank him.

  Smoke rose from the schoolhouse chimney, and Elias’s horse stood, blanketed, in the corral. Cap shot off the porch and galloped through the snow until he reached Lars. The dog cavorted and barked and had the boy in giggles, tumbling into a drift. When Cap spied Savannah, he quit Lars and raced to her side, wagging his tail, tongue lolling. He raised his head for her caress, his mouth split in a doggy grin. He walked the rest of the way to the school by her side.

  When they reached the schoolhouse door, Savannah broke her own rule and let the dog come inside. In the foyer, they brushed off snow and hung up their wraps. “Here, Lars.” Savannah slipped the potatoes from her pockets. “Put these in the lunch pail. We can eat them later.”

  Elias stood at the blackboard writing the Norwegian alphabet, including three more letters than the English one, as Savannah and the children came in from shedding their wraps. He turned and Savannah’s heart flip-flopped. He wore a black vest and white shirt, and the vest accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and the span of his chest. His long legs were encased in black pants, and he’d shined his boots. She appreciated that he’d dressed up to teach. Somehow it put more value on the exercise than if he’d worn jeans and a flannel shirt.

  The stove was cherry-cheeked, sending out billows of warmth against the frosty day. Savannah stayed in the doorway as the children put their books on their desks and Lars set the lunch pail near the stove. This was her little kingdom, and to have another in charge left her feeling adrift, without a place. Should she sit in the back, or go to her desk, or...?

  Elias dropped the chalk into the tray. “God morgen.”

  The children greeted him in Norwegian.

  He dusted his hands and came to Savannah. “How are you feeling?” he asked, again in Norwegian.

  “My hands are swollen and painful, but otherwise, I am well.”

  “No, only speak Norwegian here this week during class time.”

  She thought for a moment how to say I am well. “Jeg har det bra.”

  “Godt sagt,” he complimented her. “Show me your hands, please?”

  She translated his question in her head and held up her swollen fingers. His brows came down as he took her hands into his, gentle and slow. “They pain you?”

  His touch was pleasure and pain. Her skin was so sensitive, she shivered, but she shrugged. “I am getting better.” She wanted to tell
him so much more, to thank him for his help, but with her limited Norwegian vocabulary, she had to keep things simple. Perhaps later, after the parochial term, they could find some time to talk.

  Cap nudged her side, looking for some attention.

  “So, he can come inside today?” Elias asked.

  “Ja, he has...how do you say earned in Norwegian?”

  “Opptjente.”

  She tried again. “Cap has earned the right to come inside.”

  “I was going to let him inside but have him stay in the cloakroom.” Elias gestured toward the foyer.

  The rest of the children filed in, laughing and ruddy. Everyone sat, and Savannah took a place at the last desk, resting her hands lightly on the slanted top. The kids grinned and took a moment to settle. To her surprise, they started the day the same way as regular school, with a Psalm and a prayer.

  Savannah followed instructions, practicing her Norwegian spelling list aloud with the primer class, reading history and Scripture with the older children. The pupils seemed to enjoy the notion of their teacher becoming a student, and knowing more than she did about their curriculum, correcting her pronunciation. Through it all, the shaggy collie stayed by her side, resting his head in her lap from time to time, thumping the floor with his tail when she stroked his fur.

  Elias was a good teacher, entertaining and interesting, and he had a thorough knowledge of the subjects: language, history, Scripture, politics.

  Savannah’s hands limited her. She couldn’t hold a slate pencil and turning pages proved difficult. But she listened and learned as much as she could. When Elias read Scripture, she soaked it in, thrilling to his manly voice, trying to grasp the meaning of the words from her knowledge of the same passages in English.

  At lunch, the children gathered around the stove, and Elias invited Savannah to sit with him at the teacher’s desk. He pulled up the only other chair—the one disobedient students had to sit on in the corner, though Savannah hadn’t needed to employ that particular punishment yet—and joined her.