Sparks in Spearfish

by Kari Trumbo

  The understanding in his eyes was almost too much to bear. He wasn’t angry or hurt, emotions she’d been used to giving others when she didn’t get her way. Maybe he had matured more than she’d given him credit for. “Promise me you’ll consider going this weekend, after the paper is turned in?” He leaned against the building, relaxed and hopeful.

  Why did he have to make it so difficult? Why did his eyes tempt her to trust him? This was Barton Oleson, the man she absolutely did not want to spend time with. The boy she’d foolishly prayed would somehow get in trouble for his misdeeds or at the very least not return to school after each break. She shouldn’t be considering his request – she should be laughing at him for daring to think she would consider it and running the other direction. He held her future in his hands. If they were caught, despite what he said about taking the blame, she would still be punished.

  His soft blue eyes pled with her. “Lula…? I mean, Miss Arnsby? Please?”

  She’d been hearing an awful lot of “please” from him the last few days, after having never heard it from him before. Could a man really go through such a drastic change? A mountaintop experience might do it. Lula took a deep breath. “All right, I’ll take a ride with you.”

  Barton smiled brightly enough to outshine the sun. “You won’t regret it.”

  Lula nodded and dashed from behind the bush. The lack of regret remained to be seen.

  That night, Lula lay on her stomach on the floor in her room, facing Izzy. Both had their notebooks out and pages of writing for their essays spread out in front of them. A lamp cast its glow just enough for them to keep working. They should’ve been in bed hours before, but the drive to finish with a satisfactory grade was strong.

  “It was good that Harland Lawson allowed you to copy his notes.” Izzy tapped her pencil on her lips cutting into the silence. “There was no way to finish the paper without it. None of the books had anything close to his lecture points.”

  Lula ran her finger down her paper, making sure all the arguments had been mentioned. “It was. Though I forgot to mention, you owe him an afternoon over ice cream for the use of his notes.” Izzy’s silence forced her to look from her paper to her friend’s expression of mortification, and she couldn’t stifle a laugh, even with the fatigue pressing down on her. “At least he’s handsome and doesn’t have a mustache like Professor Cook’s.” She draped her fingers over her top lip and wiggled them to mimic their professor’s abundance of facial hair.

  “You’re being serious? Why didn’t he ask you? You were the one getting his notes.” Izzy pretended interest in her paper, but the fact that she was looking at Lula’s upside-down notes, gave her away.

  Lula chuckled, remembering Harland’s embarrassment as she’d approached him in the library. “He wasn’t interested in me in the slightest, not that she would’ve agreed to those terms for herself, anyway – he only knew me as ‘Izzy’s friend.’ He couldn’t even remember my name, but had no trouble remembering yours. It couldn’t hurt to spend one afternoon out.”

  Izzy sat up, wiped her hands on her skirt and frowned at Lula. “That’s where you’re wrong. What if I found that I liked him after just one outing? What if he treats me fine and I like him? At least one of my brothers fell in love with his wife the first time they went to church together – or so he says.”

  Lula propped herself up on her elbow. “I’m sorry Izzy. I didn’t think you’d mind, since you’ve teased me about Barton.”

  Izzy flinched. “I suppose I have. It’s just that, it wouldn’t matter for him if we should make a match. He can get married and still teach, but not so for me. If I get married, all the work I’ve done so far, all my dreams would be over. Starting a family and being a good and dutiful wife might be pleasant for some, but I want more. I may have joked with you about Barton’s plans for you, but that’s all it was – joking. You can’t and I can’t, because what we’re doing here, studying now, matters.”

  It was true, Lula wanted more too. But how could Izzy find out something so life-changing over one scoop of ice cream? And would it be the same with one horse ride? No, never. Barton might have turned his life around, might offer her sweet words, but her heart couldn’t soften to him. They’d already shared more talk than Izzy would in a short trip to the druggist, and she hadn’t been swayed so far. “I don’t think I’d pass up the ice cream. It’s just an afternoon, and how often will you get to have such a treat?”

  “But would you really take that chance?” Izzy countered. “Could you ever be happy teaching if your heart was only half in it, if you were constantly wondering about what you might have given up? My heart can’t be changed as quickly as a dress, but I would know if he had potential for me after just one outing. If I felt drawn to him, liked his company and had to stop seeing him because I could see myself with him … my heart would forever be torn in two. I can’t risk that. Could you?”

  Lula shook her head. She couldn’t risk that. And yet she still was.

  Blast you, Barton Oleson…

  Chapter 8

  Lula found it easier to focus when sitting in the back, but she was still annoyed by her promise just to ride with and listen to him. She had turned her paper in on time on Thursday, but now on Friday, with no essay to consume her and Professor Cook’s lecture not all that interesting, her mind was wandering again to the front of the room and a well-groomed teacher’s assistant. How strange to think of him, as opposed to thinking of a way to escape him.

  Riding with Barton might be a nice getaway from the strain of school, of hours poring over papers and facts that made little sense when one wasn’t standing in front of a class. She’d often ridden back home, always on the same horse. Would he consider her a poor horsewoman if she couldn’t hold her own? She just prayed he secured her a placid mount, not one too spirited. There was no need to find something else to be embarrassed about with him around.

  Far ahead of her, Barton stood and went around the room, slowly handing out mimeographed pages. He’d left her alone since their meeting in the bush – and now she wondered where she should meet him, or if he still wanted to take her at all. He took pages off the top of the stack for everyone until he reached her desk, made eye contact with her, then handed her one off the bottom. He then continued on his way as if he’d done nothing strange. No one else noticed his hesitation at her desk, but it was apparent to her with her focus drawn to his every move.

  The page was thicker than it ought to be…no, wait – it was two pages. The second had only a brief note in pencil: By the bridge, tomorrow 1pm. We’ll walk to town for the horses & ride to Bridal Veil Falls. B.

  There was a moment of hesitation in her heart, but she tamped it down. Izzy’s words about starting a relationship nibbled at her conscience. Then again, what did Izzy know of matters of the heart? She wasn’t about to get entangled with Barton. It was only fun. Just a little ride to the falls. When would she have a chance to see them otherwise? This was her third year in Spearfish and she’d never even been into town, as she’d been too young to go before. Now she was an adult and could make her own choice.

  Izzy glanced at her and tipped her head, clearly questioning her. How would she convince Izzy it was a good idea to go on an outing with the teacher’s assistant? It was forbidden in so many ways. Izzy would advise her against it, maybe even block their door to stop her, but she’d be doing it as a friend. She’d have to think of a good excuse – or not tell Izzy at all. Her stomach twisted at the idea of lying to her friend, even by omission. If there was any way to go about it without lying, she would.

  Izzy opened her mouth to say something, then shut it as Mr. Lawson arrived next to her. Lula smiled pleasantly while holding in her laughter at her poor friend. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lawson.”

  Harland nodded at Lula, then immediately turned to Izzy. “Miss Harmon, I’d be pleased if you would join me this weekend to try out the new ice cream machine at the druggist in Spearfish.” He waited, stiff with embarrassment.
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br />   Izzy glared at Lula. It was one thing to refuse Harland’s offer when it was Lula posing it, but how could she refuse him to his face? Harland was quiet, reserved, not someone who was immediately noticed. But he was handsome with his dark hair and eyes, though too afraid to smile. As he became more uncomfortable by the moment, Izzy chewed her lip, seemingly at a loss for words.

  Lula cleared her throat as delicately as she could. “Mr. Lawson, Miss Harmon is a little shy. Perhaps if you invited a few friends with you, she might be more willing to go? Say, tomorrow at noon?” She felt wicked, tossing Izzy into a situation she knew Izzy didn’t want – and at the same time keeping her friend from blocking her appointment with Barton.

  Izzy turned in her chair and glared at her even more fiercely.

  Harland smiled and sighed as if Lula had just given him the answer to all the world’s problems. “That would be no trouble at all. My friend Amos Vangilder and his girl Molly Hansen would love to join us. Would you do me the honor, Miss Harmon?”

  Izzy took a deep breath. “I will go with you – once, because I’m grateful for your help on Wednesday. But after that, I won’t be able to, because of the requirements of the teaching program. I cannot associate with any male friends. I’m sure you understand.”

  Those words rang a bell for Lula. She’d said the same thing to Barton, and he’d understood – or pretended to.

  Harland’s face faltered for a moment and he took a step back. “Of … course, Miss Harmon.” He ducked his head. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard after lunch tomorrow. Looking forward to it,” he mumbled as he backed away. The room emptied of other students and the professor, quickly leaving Lula to deal with Izzy’s anger.

  Izzy tossed her pencil at Lula’s head. “You knew how I felt about going out to ice cream. Why did you encourage him? He’s nice and handsome, and I’ll look silly if he shows me any attention at all. My heart might just melt if he’s nice. My mama warned me about the attentions of handsome men.”

  “But what if you don’t look silly? What if you just like his company and he turns into a good friend, someone you can lean on?” Someone like she kept imagining Barton to be. If only Ruby had given the same warnings. Of course, she might not have heeded them. Barton hadn’t become even remotely attractive until he was forbidden and had treated her better. When he was a scamp, he hadn’t seemed handsome in the slightest. Well, perhaps not ugly. He’d never been ugly, but she hadn’t been drawn to his looks when he was so awful to her. “It’s a few hours, Izzy. I don’t think you’ll lose your heart. And there will be two other people there. It will be fun.”

  “Fun with Mr. Lawson and another couple,” Izzy sighed, dropping her head onto her arms on the desk. “I wonder who Molly is. There’s no teaching student by that name, but what other programs are offered to girls?”

  Neither of them had ever considered other options, as few as they were. Only teaching had interested them both. “I’m not sure. Now you’ll have something to ask her.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes and stood to leave. “Next time, I’ll get the notes and you can go for ice cream,” she growled as she dashed from the room.

  “Ice cream? Sounds good. Who do I give my notes to for an ice-cream outing with you?”

  Barton’s voice just behind her made her jump – she’d thought she was alone. She whipped around and remembered she’d considered asking for his notes. His grin sent little shocks to her heart. “Do behave yourself, Mr. Oleson.”

  He stepped closer, his eyes finding hers. “I find that I can’t, no matter how hard I try. You should know that better than anyone.”

  The truth of his words should’ve warned her, but instead she found herself holding in a giggle because for once, she could sense he was actually teasing to be funny, not hurt her. “Izzy will be out tomorrow, so she won’t ask where I’m going – or with whom.”

  He touched her arm and she drew back. It was too soon, too fast. She couldn’t fall for him and if just seeing him made her heart race, his touch would do more. She would allow herself to enjoy his company, but she wouldn’t fall into the trap Izzy was so worried about. Going with Barton would give herself a reason to forgive him – then she could graduate and walk away with a clear conscience.

  He searched her face. “I can’t linger here in the room with you, but I must lock up. You’ll have to go.” But his look begged her to stay.

  Her heart raced. This was a situation a wilder woman might wish for, but not her. She’d been flighty as a child but was now well-grounded. Fancy hadn’t had a bed to sleep on in her heart for a long time. “I still don’t understand why you want to spend any time at all with me. The last thing I said to you before this year was that I hated you. And I meant it – you have to know that.”

  “I do,” he replied in a controlled whisper. “I even agree that I deserved it. But what if I told you that every time I did anything to you in the past, it was to get the opposite reaction that you gave. I was very confused. My pa set me on the straight and narrow. I just want the chance to help you forget all I did.”

  “I want to forgive you, Barton. I do. But I have so much hurt. This school was supposed to be the best thing that ever happened to me, and for two whole years, you made it the worst.”

  “I can make it the best, Lula. I can’t go back and fix everything I did, but I can try to make this year right for you. I can try to show you what I want to be. I was a kid then. You’ve got to understand that. We’ve both grown up since then.”

  She couldn’t take what he was offering her. It was too good to possibly be true. He’d made life horrible and now he was offering to just wipe it away like a mother cleans up spilled milk. “It’s only been three months. Are you trying to convince me you can grow up in the blink of an eye?”

  He took another step toward her and his strength surrounded her even though he wasn’t touching her. She wanted to back away, but the pull to stay near him was stronger. “I don’t want you to just believe anything. I aim to prove it and I have been. Four months ago, you wouldn’t have looked me in the eye, much less talked with me.” He reached up and gently tugged one of her curls – tenderly, not in anger. A strange look of almost reverence covered his face for just a moment, then he smiled.

  She stepped back, though her heart beat a crazy rhythm. “Mr. Oleson, please,” she objected, but without much force.

  “Someday I’ll explain to you what happened that long-ago first day that made me your enemy. But for now, you’ve stopped running and started talking. That’s a small victory, and I’ll take it.” He glanced at the door. “But right now, I need you to go before another teacher walks by and wonders why the room isn’t locked … unless you want me to lock us in for a while?” He grinned.

  Lula’s heart tripped over itself and she gasped, grabbing for her books and papers and spilling half of them on the floor. “Mr. Oleson!”

  He knelt down and picked them up for her, handing them to her. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Lula. Not now. I do respect you. You aren’t ready for my teasing yet, but it is my nature.” Hurt mingled with heat in his gaze.

  It took a moment to arrange the papers in her shaking fingers. Of course he’d been joking – he wouldn’t lock them in a room alone. It would ruin his chances of them ever being teachers. Why take him seriously? But the mere thought had made her so nervous she shook. Too much hurt, too many things she’d have sworn he wouldn’t do, but he did.

  Barton rested his hand on her shoulder a moment. It didn’t help the quivering inside her, only made it worse. “Will you be alright, or did I frighten you speechless?”

  Lula shook her head, pulled away from his touch and fled the room. He had made her speechless, but not from fear. Why would she suddenly be attracted to the vilest boy she’d ever known. Perhaps Izzy was right – it hadn’t even taken a whole scoop of ice cream for her to start questioning herself. Only a little teasing.

  Chapter 9

  Barton paced on the path just out of sight of the school.
It was ten minutes to one and he’d been waiting for a half-hour already, too excited to eat lunch, too worried he’d see Lula in the cafeteria. He’d avoided speaking to her while she’d had that essay to think about, but after it was turned in, he’d had to be near her. He’d found himself alone with her in the classroom and taken advantage of the chance to get to know her. How had he made it through whole summers away from her in the past? The more she let him in, the harder it was getting to avoid her.

  He spotted Lula descending the hill. The campus stood on a slight rise so that, from town, the tall Administration building sat stalwart above all of Spearfish. Lula wore a pretty off-white skirt, not a riding habit but suitable. Her white button-down blouse accentuated her shoulders, and a black sash across her middle showed off her narrow waist. He couldn’t wait for the moment she finally let him wrap his hands around that waist and pull her close. But he would wait – he’d be a gentleman.

  But he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit just seeing her made his blood run hotter. And for once, he didn’t feel the need to lower his voice or pretend he wasn’t staring. He could look and talk all he liked. He watched her every move until she stopped in front of him. “Why, Miss Arnsby, you look beautiful.” He hoped she found the sight of him just as appealing.

  But her face was a mask. “Barton. I think we know enough to be familiar when we ought and formal when necessary. Not to mention, this will be our only outing. It’s not something we can make a habit of, so we might as well enjoy it while we can.”

  Her words stopped him short and it took him a moment to collect his thoughts. She could’ve just as soon slapped him across the face with a riding crop. He’d never considered that she would say no after the ride, let alone before. It was meant to be the beginning, not the end. “What do you mean? I had every intention of making a habit out of it – as often as you’d let me.”