His Prairie Sweetheart

by Erica Vetsch

  Savannah stood like a statue, uncertain what to do. Something nudged her hand, and she looked down into Captain’s soulful brown eyes. He nudged her again, and she patted his head, then knelt and hugged him. “Thank you for bringing him here. I didn’t know how much we’d need him,” she whispered in the dog’s ear, and he licked her cheek, his tail swishing.

  “Which one of you boys is on coal patrol today?” Elias asked.

  Peder raised his hand. “Me. But it was so warm, I didn’t bring in much this morning.”

  “Not blaming you, friend.” Elias put his hand on Peder’s shoulder. “Can you tell me how much coal is in the shed?”

  “Maybe a few buckets worth?” He shrugged, eyebrows bunched.

  Savannah found her voice. “A new load was supposed to be delivered last Monday, but I didn’t worry about it because the weather has been so mild. I thought I would speak to Mr. Rosedahl about it on Sunday if none had been delivered by then.”

  Elias ran his hand down his face, and Savannah shivered. The room was cold now and growing colder, enough that their breaths were showing in frosty puffs if they stood more than a few feet from the stove. How were they going to keep the children warm with no coal? Why hadn’t she kept on top of things and demanded the coal supply be replenished sooner?

  “Savannah, you and the girls see what we have in the way of food, and you—” he pointed to three of the older boys “—bring the coal hod, and anything else we have to carry coal in. I’d like to get as much of it inside in one go as I can, so we don’t let in any more cold air than we have to.”

  “What about the horses?” Lars asked.

  “They’re snug in the shed. I gave them some hay, but that’s all we can do right now. If the storm lets up a little, we can check on them later.”

  Lars nodded. “There are blankets out there. Saddle blankets.”

  “Good thinking, Lars. We’ll make a detour out there if we can do it without getting lost. Is there any rope in the schoolhouse?”

  “There’s the bell rope,” Hakon said.

  Elias shook his head. “No, we can’t use that. We will need the bell.”

  “Wrap up well.” Savannah crossed her arms at her waist.

  Elias broke the rime of ice in the pump primer bucket in the foyer and poured the contents into the top of the water crock. “I’ll take this bucket. While we’re out there, Savannah, you stay in the vestibule. Every five minutes, ring the school bell. If we get turned around out there, it will help guide us back. Ready, boys?”

  Hakon, Johann and Peder nodded, bundled to the eyes, each holding something to carry coal in.

  “All right. Link arms with each other and follow me.” Elias put his hand to the doorknob, and when he opened it a cloud of snow burst inside. “Let’s go!” he shouted above the raging storm. Savannah had to help them close the door.

  She stood in the foyer, shivering, her hands on the bell rope. “Dear Lord, keep them safe,” she prayed. “Bring them back inside. Please let this storm be not as bad as Elias fears. Get us all home safely.”

  She tugged the rope. The bell sounded muffled and faraway, as if it had been wrapped in a blanket. She supposed it was. A blanket of snow. Pulling harder, she sought to get more sound from the cupola, and went back to praying. With no clock in the small room, she had to guess at the five minute intervals, but surely more ringing was better than less.

  “Miss Cox,” Rut called from the schoolroom doorway. “Ingrid is crying.”

  “Is she cold?”

  “She is afraid of Captain. Every time he comes near her, she cries. She got bit by a dog once, and now she is afraid.”

  “Bring Captain out here. He can keep me company.”

  The collie’s nails clicked on the floor, and he whined, head low as he sidled up against Savannah’s leg. “I know, boy. I’m worried, too.”

  The windowless foyer was dark, and she was grateful for Captain’s company. Surely they should be coming back soon. How long did it take to walk around to the coal shed and back?

  She rang the bell again, doubts and fears crowding into her head. The wind was so high, she didn’t hear footsteps on the porch until the door burst open. Cap barked sharply as four snow-covered beings staggered inside and slammed the door shut. Whirling flakes settled on the board floor, and it was so cold they didn’t melt.

  Elias and the boys gasped as if they’d been holding their breath the whole time. Each lad carried a bucket of coal, and Elias carried a burlap sack filled with lumps. Under his other arm, he carried a bundle of saddle blankets.

  Cap nosed each boy, checking them over, whining and wagging his tail.

  “I’ve never seen a storm this bad,” Elias said when he could speak. “I can’t believe how cold it is out there now, and the wind is making it worse. Feels like thirty below.”

  “Boys, brush off as best you can and hurry inside by the fire. You have to get warmed up. Let me help.” Savannah grabbed the broom and began swiping at their coats and pants. “We don’t want this snow to melt on you.”

  Once fairly free of snow, the boys trudged into the schoolroom. Elias touched Savannah’s arm when she went to follow. He tugged down his muffler.

  “This is it. This is all the coal in the shed.” He used the end of the muffler to mop his wet face. “That’s what took so long. We scoured that shed, getting every last piece. Even at that, it might not be enough.”

  He hefted the sack of coal and headed into the schoolroom. Savannah followed with the blankets, closing the interior door behind her quickly to try to hold in some of the precious warmth.

  What would they do if they ran out of coal? Could they survive, huddled together with no fire? Icy fear rippled through her limbs and settled in her middle, chilling her from within even as the storm raged outside.

  * * *

  Elias looked at the coal they had on hand, perhaps a bushel basket’s worth, and tried to calculate how long he could make it last. The soft lignite coal burned faster than other types and would be consumed quickly, especially given the extreme cold. He glanced at Savannah and then at the wooden benches and desks, wondering how many might have to be sacrificed.

  “Spread those saddle blankets here.” The benches had been placed in a horseshoe around the little stove. “Then everybody find a place to sit.”

  Ingrid whimpered when Captain dropped down beside her. She drew away, all but climbing over Savannah.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Elias took a spot farthest from the stove.

  “She’s afraid of the dog.” Savannah put her arms around the little girl, gathering her close and whispering against her hair. “Shh, he won’t hurt you.”

  Elias drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs. “Captain’s a big softy who likes pats from pretty girls.”

  Ingrid sat up a little, her eyes doubtful.

  “It’s true. That’s why he follows Miss Cox all over the place.”

  Rut giggled, and Elias realized he’d just admitted that he thought Savannah was pretty. He shrugged and grinned. Well, she was.

  Savannah kept her head bent over Ingrid, and in the dim light, he couldn’t tell what she might be thinking. After a moment, Ingrid’s little mitten stuck out and she touched Cap on the ear. The dog leaned into Savannah and put his head on her leg near Ingrid, looking up at her with his chocolate eyes in a gaze Elias knew all too well. Some collies were one-man dogs, but Cap’s heart belonged to anyone who would show him affection.

  “He’s not only friendly, he’s also a big ol’ furnace. Somebody tonight is going to get to sleep with his fur coat beside ’em.” Elias figured it should be Ingrid and Margrethe, the two smallest children.

  Wind howled outside, trying to get in, and the snow scoured the siding. It would be full-dark soon.

  “Should we light the la
mps?” Savannah asked, as if reading his mind. Between each window there were kerosene lamps with reflectors. They were seldom used, only when there was a nighttime activity at the school.

  “How much kerosene is there?” He counted four lamps.

  “They’re practically full.”

  “Good. Give me a hand, will you?” He waited until she’d passed Ingrid to one of the other girls, and then reached down to help Savannah up. She staggered a bit, stumbling into him. His arms went around her to steady her, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were dark blue and wide in the dusky room.

  “I’m sorry. I got stiff sitting there, even in such a short time.”

  He nodded, letting go of her reluctantly. “Can you help me light two of the lamps? I’d like to put one in a window on each side of the building. If anybody is out there lost, the light might help them find shelter.”

  After pulling one of the desks up under a window on the west wall, she took a lamp down and went to the box on the back wall behind the stove for a match. Elias did the same at a window on the east wall.

  Savannah set her lamp on the desk, the flame outlining her silhouette. His heart clenched, and his shoulders bowed under the responsibility of keeping her and the children safe. He wanted to open his coat, take her into his arms and shelter her from the cold and the hunger and the worry. How had she slipped under his guard? When he knew better than to fall for an outsider, one who made no secret of her intention of leaving at the end of the school year?

  She looked up and he blinked, afraid his feelings were all too evident. Motioning her over, he lowered his voice. “What did you find for food?”

  Biting her lip, she shook her head. “There wasn’t much left from the lunches. Lars and Rut and I had potatoes in our coat pockets.” This time she smiled softly. “I told Agneta it was too nice a day to need hot potatoes to keep our hands warm, but she insisted. I’m glad now she did. We have six potatoes, two dried apple tarts and—” Savannah stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear “—I brought the rest of my Christmas pralines. They’re in my desk. I was thinking tomorrow to teach a lesson on North Carolina in geography, and I thought sharing the pralines would be fun.”

  Her breath brushed against his cheek, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Even through the layers of winter clothing, her hand on his arm felt warm. “That’s generous of you. Maybe we should save those as a nice surprise. Things are going to get tougher before they get better, I have a feeling.”

  “You don’t think the storm will abate in the night?”

  He shook his head. “This has all the earmarks of a three-day blizzard. We’re going to have to go sparingly with food and fuel.”

  They rejoined the children.

  “Sheriff?” Peder asked. “Do you think our families are safe? It is chore time, and my pa will need to go to the barn.”

  “Your pa is a smart man, Peder. He understands storms like this. All of your pas are winter-smart. If they have to go out, they’ll rig ropes so they don’t get lost. I know that’s what my pa is doing right now.” Elias prayed he was speaking the truth. The timing of the storm was bad, just when lots of kids across this part of the state would be leaving school, and when a lot of farmers would be heading out to check their livestock. He prayed Tyler and his students down in Kettinger were safe.

  Astrid, Peder’s sister, sniffed and gulped, swiping at her eyes with her mittened hands.

  Savannah straightened. “I think we need some singing to cheer us up. Who has a favorite song?”

  Johann pulled a harmonica from his pocket, tugged off his gloves and tapped the instrument against his palm. “I can play ‘A Mighty Fortress’.” He began the hymn, and the children sang in Norwegian.

  Elias grinned when he realized Savannah was singing in Norwegian, too. Her language skills had really come along in the last four months. Though she would probably always have a Southern drawl mixed in, she spoke—and sang—Norwegian passably.

  When everyone had had a turn at choosing a song, Elias pushed himself up. His feet were numb and his legs stiff. “All right, folks. We need to get some blood moving. Everybody on your feet.”

  “It’s too cold to move.” Nils Rambek shook his head and stayed put while several of the students staggered up.

  “That’s why you have to move. C’mon.” Elias helped him rise. “Johann, give us a sprightly tune on that little blow harp. We’re going to dance. Grab a partner.”

  They stared at him as if he’d lost his wits.

  “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”

  They shook their heads. The boys looked like they’d rather run out into the snowstorm.

  “Savannah, help me out here.”

  She shivered, and seemed as if she was having a hard time concentrating. “What can I do?”

  “Teach us a new dance, something you do down South.”

  “You mean like a reel?”

  “Sure. Something to get us moving, and something to occupy our minds.” He swung his arms, clapping them across his chest, and stamped his boots. Staring hard, he willed Savannah to join in and chirk the kids up.

  “Johann, can you play this?” She hummed a simple tune.

  He copied it perfectly.

  “I had no idea you were so talented at music, Johann.”

  The boy ducked his head and blew on his bare hands before repeating the tune.

  “Children, line up here, boys on one side, girls on the other. Elias and I will be what’s called the ‘top couple.’ You follow what we do, all right?”

  Before long, they’d caught on to the simple steps and pattern, and they were ducking around and under and marching through. Cheeks pinked and smiles emerged. Captain barked and wriggled. Savannah laughed as Elias deliberately messed up and collided with Rut, picking her up and swinging her around. Cap joined the fray, and laughter filled the room, drowning out the sound of the storm. Soon they were all warm, getting silly and collapsing into a heap on the floor.

  “I’m hungry.” Ingrid was the first one to voice it, and several of the kids nodded.

  “I know you are, elsker, but we should hold off on food for a while yet. Best if we eat right before it’s time to sleep.” Elias chucked her under the chin. “That way you’ll sleep better.”

  The thought of spending the night in the school sobered everyone, and they made their way back into the circle of benches around the stove.

  “How about if we put the potatoes on to roast?” he suggested. “While they’re cooking, maybe Miss Cox will read to us.”

  “I want to go home.” Margrethe looked up at him, big brown eyes ready to weep. “I don’t want to stay here.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart. We all do.”

  Hakon shifted his weight. “I am thinking of my pa. He will try to milk the cows and clean the barn without me. Maybe I should be trying to get home.”

  Elias shook his head. Hakon’s father was a frail man who had heart troubles. He relied on his husky son to do most of the chores. But as much as Elias could sympathize with the boy, he had to be firm.

  “Nobody is leaving, understood? Hakon, your father would have me flayed if I let you go tonight, and you know it.” Elias put his hands on his hips and used his best lawman voice. “We’re staying. All night. Best if we just brace ourselves for it and face it head-on. Miss Cox and I are here to look after you. We’ll get food going, and we’ll listen to some fine literature, then we’ll sleep. Now, let’s get to work.”

  He hoped he sounded more in control than he felt. Any way he looked at it, it was going to be a long, cold night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It seemed to take ages to get everyone settled for the night. They each had a piece of potato and a bite of tart for supper. Savannah was proud of her older students, who gave the bigger pieces to the youngest kids an
d made sure they had sleeping places closest to the stove.

  “How much longer will the coal last?” she whispered to Elias when all was quiet in the schoolroom.

  “At the rate we’re burning it, we’ll run out sometime around dawn, maybe a little later. I’ve got the dampers as closed as I can without smothering the fire.” He stepped over sleeping children and opened the door to the stove. Quietly, he tossed in a couple more chunks and came back to sit beside her.

  In the flickering lamplight, she checked the children. They all lay like spoons, huddled close to share warmth while they slept. Wrapped as they were in coats and hats and gloves and mufflers, it was difficult to tell one from another. Elias had spread three of the saddle blankets out on the floor and covered the youngest students with the fourth. Captain lay among them, raising his head from time to time to check that everyone was all right.

  “What will we do then?”

  Their shoulders brushed, and Elias’s arm came around her shoulder, snugging her up to his side. “We’ll have to burn benches and desks. No help for it.”

  She sighed, feeling so tired her muscles ached. “I suppose not.”

  “You should get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night. I’ll stay awake.”

  Savannah shook her head. “No, I can’t sleep. I have to watch out for the children. Anyway, I’m too cold to sleep.”

  “Just as well the children aren’t. They’re better off sleeping for a while. We’ll keep the fire going and make sure they stay covered up.”

  Drawing her knees up, she leaned into him, gripping her hands together, wriggling her fingers inside her gloves. Her hands ached, but not for worlds would she say so. Elias had enough to worry about.

  “You must be wishing you were back in balmy Raleigh right about now.”

  His statement caught her off guard. Did she wish to be in North Carolina? Did he wish she was there?

  “I wouldn’t mind some milder temperatures, but I’m not sorry I came.” She shifted her position, wrapping her arms around her waist. Elias’s arm and the bench behind her supported her, and somehow, in the dark and cold, it was easy to unburden her heart.