Thomas walked beside her, holding his leaves.
Grace had never known two children she so badly wanted to be around. “I want you to know how well you completed your oration when the parents came. Your mother was a very special person.”
“You told me that already.”
She smiled. “Well, you worked hard.”
“Not really. I already had it memorized.”
Grace touched his shoulder. “Go into the house. I’ll check on the hens.”
Thomas scampered ahead. His coal-black hair curled just above his collar. The hem of his loose pants hung about an inch and a half too long. Fresh dirt smudged the back of his pants from the garden soil. Thomas had no idea of the value of his genuineness and loyalty.
“Miss Cantrell!” Thomas called. “Miss Cantrell. That one lady is back.”
A tower of black stood on the porch. The folds of her dress expanded in the swift breeze resembling a dark flag. When her head turned their direction, she stepped to the end of the porch.
Grace handed Thomas her basket. “Run along to the hen house. Gather any eggs and make sure their water and feed trough is full.”
Thomas placed his lamb’s ear in the basket and went toward the hen house.
Grace walked briskly in the direction of the house.
Hortense said nothing but glared with disdain, much like the intimidation tactics Grace’s stepmother, Delma, had used.
“Hello, Mrs. Beauregard.” Grace walked up the stairs. “Lovely day for a visit with your sister.”
“Stop the false kindness, Miss Cantrell. I know what you’re up to. And I don’t approve.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not one bit.”
Grace stepped onto the porch and pushed her bonnet off her face. “What I’m up to? I don’t understand.”
“Taking an undeserved liking to your students. And it’s two in particular I’m concerned about.”
“Thomas and Josiah are here with Edith’s permission. As a favor to Mr. Green. And I don’t favor students over the others.”
“You’ve brought orphans into my sister’s home. Orphans who bring diseases.”
“The boys appear healthy. Underfed and weak when they came, but they are already plumping up. And they are cleaner and nicer dressed than some of the other children who attend school.”
Hortense folded her arms. “Don’t ever bring those filth-ridden maggots into my sister’s home again.”
“And those are words of a godly woman concerned about Sheldon? Perhaps you should share your grievances with Reverend Parks after church on Sunday. Ask him his thoughts on what the Bible says about caring for others who have less than yourself.”
Hortense took one step forward, so close that Grace could see the expensive rice powder that coated her wrinkled skin. “Townsfolk agree with me on this,” she said.
“I didn’t mention the townsfolk. It’s about God’s Word. How would the Lord want us to treat these children? Any children?”
“My, my, my. You sure do have a lot of gumption.” Her hard gaze locked on Grace. “I suspect more than your two sisters.”
“What about my sisters?” she asked.
“Oh, I know all about you, Miss Cantrell. I asked Sheriff Pryor and some others. Your two sisters came to town with agreements to marry men they’d never met. One married a former deputy within the hour of stepping off a train. They’ve both now ran off. Just disappeared. The other has promised herself to a whore-chasing drunk.”
Grace stepped back, her gaze foggy. Her legs felt numb. One hand reached for the doorframe. A stirring nearby helped her regain focus and brought steadiness.
Thomas stood near the steps. His face had become pallid.
Grace extended her arm toward him. “Come inside, Thomas.”
Thomas looked at the old woman in the dark dress and then at Grace. He moved to the right side of the steps, away from the visitor.
Grace opened the door, and Thomas trailed inside.
“I also came to tell you something else, Miss Cantrell.”
Grace folded her arms and lifted her chin.
“A telegram arrived this morning. It’s possible that Mr. Hennessy may not need to be absent the entire school term after all. His mother has taken a considerable turn for the worse, and upon her death he will return to Sheldon to procure his former duties.”
“But I signed a contract for one year. Until this spring. The children—”
“I hope it doesn’t come to this, but contracts can be broken, Miss Cantrell. Especially if there’s good reason.”
“What contract you all talking about?” Hail Talbert pulled on the lapel of his tweed jacket as he stepped up to the porch. He released one hand to lift his fine brimmed hat and then set it back down with the gracefulness of a practiced gentleman. A brown and white beagle with a black spot near his tail rustled around his feet. He sniffed the ground anxiously and then climbed onto the porch. “Shadow, get back down here.”
The dog circled the porch around Grace’s legs but avoided Hortense. With a click of his owner’s tongue, the beagle made his way back down the steps.
“Is there a problem this afternoon, ladies?” he asked again. “Beautiful day for a walk. Anything I can help with?”
“I’m finished here.” Hortense dipped her head at him and shot a final dagger toward Grace. “I’m sure I made my sentiments clear, Miss Cantrell.” Hortense marched off toward town.
Grace made a lame effort to confront the unexpected visitor. “Excuse me, Mr. Talbert, but I’m needed inside. Enjoy your walk.” She opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it during the beginning of his rebuttal. She drew a deep breath to calm her uneasiness. Something prickled through her at the thought of Mr. Talbert. He’d come around twice in such a short time. Lord, give me wisdom regarding those two.
The quiet in the house seemed too still. She stepped into her bedroom.
Thomas stood by the bed.
Edith dabbed a wet rag across Josiah’s forehead. Her worried gaze turned toward Grace. “He’s got a fever.”
15
Jed sat forward in his rocking chair, palms covering his face, and then he sat back, dropping his hands. The fire in the wood stove waned, and Jed contemplated adding another log. A spark from the burning wood snapped loudly.
Griffin emerged from the bedroom. “They’re both sleeping finally. In your bed. I’ll move Thomas to the floor next to me so he doesn’t roll onto Josiah while he’s sleeping.”
“I’ll sleep in the chair tonight.”
Griffin didn’t move. “Think Josiah’s gonna be all right?”
“The fever is from fighting infection.”
“Thomas wants me to ask if he could stay home from school until Josiah goes back.”
Jed waited for the heaviness in his chest to subside.
“You know this ain’t your fault.”
Yes, it is.
“Those Reifstack boys would’ve found them sooner or later. If not walking home, somewhere else.”
“Do you think they’re happy?”
“Do I think who’s happy?” After a long silence, he spoke again. “The boys?”
Jed rocked in the chair, waiting for Griffin to speak.
“Orphans done gave up on being happy, Mr. Green. They’re dry. Warm. And their tummies aren’t empty. Probably better than they imagined.” Griffin sat in a chair across from Jed and stared at him. “Thomas wants to be glued to wherever you are. And Josiah wants to be glued to Thomas. Seems like you three are pretty stuck with each other.”
Jed brushed the calluses on his hands.
“You’re sorry you took us in, ain’t you? You can send us back. Happened to me. Twice.” Griffin seemed indifferent.
“I’m not thinking that at all.”
“Then what’re you mopin’ about?”
“What about you?” Jed ignored his question. “You doing all right?”
Griffin stood and patted Jed on the shoulder. “I’ve been a lot worse.”
~*~
Two long weeks had passed since the fight, and Thomas and Josiah weren’t back at school.
Grace snapped the book shut in the middle of Patrick’s oral reading.
He paused, and the others looked up.
“Let’s do something different,” Grace told them. “Follow me.” She marched them outside and down a nearby path toward a clearing. The children scattered throughout the meadow but stayed within close enough range that Grace could see them. She directed them to use their empty lunch pails to find the Texas wildflowers and grasses they read about in the books that Grace had found on the shelves earlier in the week.
Minnie returned with a handful of bluebonnets and a clump of false purple thistle. “These are my favorite colors.”
“Very pretty. Those two species are in the books. Do you remember their names?”
Minnie shook her head.
“You can look them up as soon as we return. That will be a good project for you.”
“Can I get more?” Minnie asked.
“Sure. But just one or two of each variety, so others can grow.”
“This is fun. Mr. Hennessy never let us do this before.” She scampered off.
A small yellow sea of bitterweed grew in between a cluster of rocks. Grace knelt down and picked a sprig of the common wildflower.
Patrick handed her a long stalk with red flowers, one of the few tall species to bloom in the fall. “I think this is butterfly weed. It said in the book that bees and butterflies like it, and I just saw a black butterfly about.”
Two of the girls screamed. Cora was running and Minnie chased Leisel across the meadow. Cora wiggled and danced about. “Leisel put a grasshopper down my back.”
Grace pulled the waist of Cora’s bodice so that the insect would slide down. “Is it gone now?”
“I think so.”
“It’s not funny!” Minnie declared when the other children laughed.
Leisel cupped his hands and crept behind Minnie, but she turned before he could do anything. She tried to push him, but Leisel moved out of her reach. He taunted her as he ran backward, but then his foot slipped and his legs gave out beneath him. He fell onto the ground, and Minnie fell on him. She pummeled the boy with both fists.
Grace pushed Minnie off to the side.
Blood trickled from Leisel’s nose.
Grace bent over him. “Leisel, are you all right?”
He rolled, covered his nose, and then stood.
Some of the children snickered.
Leisel ran toward his home.
Grace pulled Minnie up. “Picking flowers was fun, but now it’s over because of fighting.”
“But Leisel—”
Grace interrupted Minnie. “I know what Leisel did. And I’m sorry that happened to you and Cora. His behavior will not go unpunished,”—she paused—“but you and I will have a talk later about better ways to respond. Let’s head on back now.”
The class protested.
“We will walk back as a group. Without speaking. You may pick and gather as we return.”
“I’m sorry I ruined our special outing.” Minnie was near tears. “But I’m not sorry I punched Leisel in the face.”
“I’m glad you’re our teacher, Miss Cantrell,” said Aster May, one of the older girls. The girl handed her a small, orange-yellow flower with a dark brown center. “Coreopsis. It’s in one of the pamphlets we read yesterday. Also called tickseed because the seeds are small and look like tiny bugs the size of a tick. I can help the others identify theirs if you want me to.”
The children ran ahead as they neared the schoolhouse.
Commotion rang from inside and someone spoke, not one of her students.
“Sit in your seats, please,” Grace commanded.
Grace immediately recognized the long hair and gentle curls. Joy, her sister, turned, and Grace ran toward her. Joy embraced her, and they both laughed until Grace started to tear up.
“Look at you. A schoolteacher. Picking wildflowers. The class just told me.” Joy looked at the students. “My sister loves flowers. We always had a full vase somewhere in our house.”
“I haven’t seen you at church.”
“Yes.” Joy looked down. “The ranch is farther out than I realized. We only make it to church about once a month. But one of the ranch hands leads us in a sermon and singing every Sunday. Mr. Jameson needed some supplies this afternoon, so I came along with Maria, the cook.”
“You look great.” Grace wanted to ask about her new husband but couldn’t in front of the children. Her sister must’ve read her thoughts, a skill they’d developed over years. Something was terribly wrong. Joy’s face fell and she sniffled before finding her voice.
“I got your letter. I had every intention of writing back, but they’ve kept me so busy on the ranch. And I need to talk to you about Mercy.” She looked around at each of the children “But anyway, which one is Josiah?”
”He and his brother haven’t came for almost two weeks,” Minnie said. “They got in a fight.”
There was a tinge of pain behind Joy’s smile toward the little girl.
And Joy probably saw the pain in Grace’s own expression.
~*~
Jed tucked the dollar bills and coins into a pocket. First time in three days cash had been slipped into his hands. With the shop empty he could start on the next project.
“How can you stand listening to them?” Griffin’s jaw tightened.
“Who?”
“Who?” Griffin opened one hand. “Those two old varmints who hung over the railing bickering. Only ones in the shop all morning. They went at it for more than an hour.”
Oh, those men. Dorsey Crump and Eldridge Macon argued all the time.
“I just tune them out.”
Griffin raised his brows.
Jed placed the tool in the hardy hole and stuck the center of an iron rod in the fire. “Watch now. I’ll show you how to cut a piece. You’ll be doing this someday to make chain links.”
The sound of hooves and the whinny of a horse filtered through the stuffy air.
“Can’t we ever get a break?” Griffin grumbled.
Two men walked into the shop, both grumbling about the heat and waiting for a break in the weather.
Buster Crowley had walked with a gimp for fifteen years, but a frown never seemed to reach his face. Even when he complained, his smile stretched wide.
Willard Jeffries entered behind him, hands in his deep pockets. The lapel of his jacket was ironed smooth and crisp. He worked hard making sure those who worked for him worked harder.
“Hey there, Mr. Jed. You got that dinner bell ready for me?” Buster always spoke loud.
“Sure do.” Griffin pulled it off the shelf and handed it to him.
Buster dug in his pockets. “How much I owe you there?”
Griffin held out his palm. “Forty-five cents.”
Buster placed a coin on the railing. “There’s that quarter I was looking for.” He fished around and dropped two other coins.
Jed took the iron out of the coals and placed the orange glow on the tip of the hardy tool. He pounded a few swift blows to indent the rod.
“Is that forty-five?” Buster asked.
“Need you a nickel more.” Griffin took a nickel from Buster’s palm. “That’ll do it.” He handed Buster the dinner bell.
“Well, thank you both. My wife’s been getting onto me about getting one. She hollers at me to come to the house and my hearing is getting so bad I can’t always hear her.” His jolly laugh rolled like music as he turned to exit. “Maybe this’ll work.”
Jed finished the cut with another strike. He rested one of the rods on the face of the anvil and handed the other to Griffin who immediately rested it up against the back wall with the other similar pieces. Jed nodded to the customer left in the shop. “Mr. Jeffries.”
“You can call me Willard. This here is a friendly visit.”
Jed looked at Griffin and gestured toward the bellows.
Mr. Jeffries’s gaze shifted to Jed. “Heard you made a visit to the farm to see Abner a while back.”
Jed brushed the dust and debris from the anvil.
“Said you were right upset that day.” Willard Jeffries shifted his weight. “Look, I don’t know what happened or if the Reifstack boys were involved.”
“They were,” Griffin interjected.
Jed lifted an opened palm to silence Griffin.
Jeffries’s eyebrows narrowed as he stared at Griffin. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you.”
“This is my new apprentice. His name is Griffin,” Jed said as he straightened. “I believe Abner’s boys were responsible. And for another encounter at the festival before that.”
The wealthy landowner stepped back and gave a condescending smile. “I get what you’re saying, Jed. But young boys do foolish things. This here is no reason for you to lose business. And I have employed you with a tremendous amount of work over the years.”
“So, your concern is for me?” Jed asked. “There’s not enough work to make me turn a blind eye to meanness toward someone who belongs to me.”
“I’m not asking you to do that. Just that you let this go and I’ll see to it that nothing like this happens again.” Jeffries gave a fake smile. “If it does, you can shoot poor old Abner if you want.”
“What is it you want fixed?” Jed asked.
“What makes you think I’m needing something? Maybe I just want to smooth things over.”
Jed took the iron rod and shifted it into his other hand.
Jeffries opened both palms. “I’m a busy man. Been meaning to get out here and talk to you, Jed, I swear.”
Jed stuck the iron in the coals.
“Abner said something about the plow for the oxen,” Jeffries admitted. He dug into his pocket and pulled out several dollar bills. “I’ll pay you cash. In advance.”
Before Jed could react, Griffin reached out and snatched the money. “This doesn’t make up for bruises, a broken nose, and a fear of walking to school by yourself.”
Jeffries pulled out another bill and slapped it down on the railing.
It’d been a while since Jed had seen a ten-dollar bill in cash.
Grace like a Whisper Page 13