Since Rose had alerted the other council members that the teacher would be there to speak to them, no one was surprised when Emery Thornbury popped up from his chair. "I have something to say, Mr. Mayor," Thornbury declared.
"All right, Emery," the mayor replied. "Go right ahead."
"I want to lodge a complaint about the excessive workload that is being placed on me," Thornbury said. "Due to the meddling of certain elements in this town"—he glared pointedly at Rose as he spoke—"the children of those farmers from Georgia have been allowed, even encouraged, to attend school here in Abilene. And I am expected to teach these little ruffians, most of whom have had no previous education at all!"
The mayor stared silently at Thornbury for a moment. Then he leaned forward and said mildly, "Well, Emery, I figured that teaching kids is how you earn that salary we pay you. Isn't that the idea of a school?"
"Indeed," Thornbury snapped back. "But now there are simply too many students for one teacher to instruct properly."
"What do you think we should do about that?"
Thornbury's lip curled in a sneer. "The solution seems obvious to me. We simply don’t allow children who live outside the town limits to attend our school."
Another council member spoke up. "Kids from the outlying farms and ranches have always come into town to go to school, Mr. Thornbury, ever since we built that school. It doesn't seem fair to make them stop now."
"Well, perhaps all of the children shouldn’t be excluded," Thornbury said. "I would be satisfied if only the newest arrivals were told to leave."
Rose could contain herself no longer. "You want to single out the children of those families from Georgia."
Thornbury stared coldly at her. "That would satisfy me, yes. Such a move would reduce the number of students to a level that could be managed by one teacher."
Surprisingly, Rose smiled as she turned to address her fellow council members. "As Mr. Thornbury stated earlier, the solution to the problem is obvious, gentlemen. If there are too many students for one teacher, all we have to do is hire another teacher."
Murmurs of surprise rose from council members and audience alike. A wide grin stretched across Lucas Flint's face. Rose had shared her plan with him earlier, and he had thought it was a good one. She had also told the mayor, who was now nodding.
Thornbury's eyes widened in shock. "A-another teacher?" he stammered. "I don't need another teacher. I just need fewer students."
"It seems to me that it works out the same either way," Rose replied.
"Except that it costs us more," one of the councilmen said.
The mayor leaned forward. He had taken some persuading during Rose's private meeting with him, but he had come around to her way of thinking. Now he said, "I think Dr. Keller's got a point. Abilene's a growing town. We're going to keep on growing, and we're going to need another teacher sooner or later. We might as well get somebody in here now and get started."
"No!" Thornbury exclaimed. "I don't want—"
"You don't want any help, Mr. Thornbury?" Rose cut in. "I thought you said you were overworked."
Flint swallowed the laugh that threatened to burst from his lips. Emery Thornbury was beginning to look positively sick.
Rose smiled sweetly as she looked at Thornbury. She knew why he was opposed to hiring another teacher, and so did everyone else on the council. Thornbury had enjoyed a free hand in the schoolhouse for a long time, and he didn’t want anyone to come in and challenge his authority.
The discussion among the council members was lively for a few minutes, but with Rose and the mayor speaking in support of the proposal, the others were soon convinced. The salary for a new teacher was the only sticking point, and Rose was able to point to areas in the budget where the money could be found. When the council members voted on hiring a new teacher, the proposal passed unanimously.
Emery Thornbury sat pale and shaking, helpless to do a thing to stop the council's action.
"All right," the mayor said, "that's settled. You'll have to get along by yourself for a while until we can get another teacher, Emery, but I'm sure you'll manage."
Thornbury swallowed and nodded.
Rose chose that moment to reveal the rest of her plan. "It shouldn't be too long, Mr. Thornbury," she said. "I took the liberty of contacting an agency back East that supplies teachers for frontier schools." She reached into the pocket of her skirt and withdrew a piece of paper. "I received a telegram from them this afternoon. They've located a recent graduate of one of the teachers' colleges who is willing to accept the position in Abilene. Her name is Leslie Garrison, and according to this telegram, she's available to travel here as soon as the council votes to hire her."
"And I believe that vote was just taken," added the mayor.
This news caused another small hubbub, but it died down when Thornbury sniffed, "Very well. I see now just how much weight my opinion carries around here. You might have at least consulted me before hiring some flighty girl who's probably not much older than my students," He put his hat on. "She won't be much help, I'll wager, but I suppose I can't expect much more." With that, he stalked out of the courthouse.
After Thornbury left, the large room was silent for a moment. Then the mayor said softly, "You know, I kind of feel sorry for any teacher whose first job is working with Emery Thornbury."
Rose silently agreed. She hoped she wasn’t letting Leslie Garrison in for more trouble than the woman had bargained for.
7
Joshua Markham had known hard times in his life, but he had never known poverty, not with a father who had been a respected lawyer and judge. As he visited the community of farmers on Doug Copeland's land, he saw firsthand what it was like to be dirt poor, and he was appalled by the ugliness.
The sight of children so pitifully thin that their limbs were like sticks was painful to Joshua. The youngsters' clothing was threadbare and ill-fitting. Parents who were probably no more than twenty-five years old easily looked twice that age. These people had known only hardship and a continual struggle to survive, and the heartrending evidence of the effort tugged at Joshua.
The reverend made frequent trips to the D Slash C, sometimes on his own, sometimes accompanying Dr. Rose Keller on her rounds of the farms. Lucas Flint, concerned for Rose's safety because of the continuing trouble with the area's cowhands, had asked him to ride with her, and Joshua had been glad to comply. He admired Dr. Keller and enjoyed her company.
He was alone, however, the day he rode up to the Powell farm and found the soddy deserted. Joshua called out repeatedly, but there was no answer from the earthen cabin. He was about to turn his horse around and ride on to another dwelling when he heard bellowed curses coming from the far side of the rise behind the Powell soddy.
Joshua walked his mount to the top of the slope and looked around. In the middle of the gradually sloping field, he saw Tom and Violet struggling valiantly to move a large rock. Tom, his shoulder against the rock, was shoving as hard as he could, but the boulder was embedded in the earth and refused to move. He uttered more curses as he heaved against the rock. Violet worked beside him, helping as best she could, and it was she who glanced up and saw Joshua Markham sitting on his horse.
"Tom!" she said sharply. "Hush!"
"What?" Tom drew back from the boulder, clearly surprised that she would speak that way to him.
Violet nodded toward Joshua, who walked his horse slowly forward as Tom looked around and saw him.
Tom looked defiant rather than embarrassed as Joshua rode up. He nodded curtly and said, "Pastor."
"Hello, Tom," Joshua replied. He touched the brim of his hat. "Hello, ma'am."
"What do you want out here?" Tom asked. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped his face.
"I came to talk to your father, but I didn't find him at the cabin," Joshua explained.
"He's over to the Emmett place," Tom said. "You could ride over there if you want to talk to him."
Joshua shook his head
. "Oh, no, it was nothing urgent. I just wanted to see how all of you were getting along. I'll talk to him later." He gestured at the large rock. "It appears that you're having some trouble."
Tom glared at the boulder. "This ol' rock's been here right along, and I'm gettin’ tired of plowin’ around it."
Joshua dismounted. "Perhaps I can lend a hand," he said.
Tom eyed Joshua's lean form. "Don't guess you'd be much help, Pastor," he said bluntly.
"Oh, you'd be surprised," Joshua replied with a grin. "I've been told I'm rather wiry."
Tom shrugged disdainfully and put his shoulder against the rock. "Suit yourself," he grunted.
Joshua slipped off his dark coat and held it out to Violet. "If you'd be so kind as to hold this, my dear," he said.
"Sure, Pastor," Violet said, taking the coat from him. She looked almost as dubious as Tom about Joshua's ability to help move the boulder.
Joshua stepped beside Tom and placed his shoulder against the boulder. He found grips for his hands and then set his feet in the dirt. "I'm ready when you are," he said.
"All right," Tom said. "On the count of three. One, two, three...!"
Both men straightened their legs, throwing their weight and strength against the boulder. For a moment it seemed as firm and unyielding as before. But then the rock lurched. The movement was small—only a fraction of an inch—but it encouraged the two men. They paused to gasp some fresh air, then lunged against the boulder once more.
With a slight sucking sound, the big rock came free of the dirt where it had rested for so long. It began to roll, slowly at first, then gaining momentum and picking up speed.
"Stay with it!" Tom yelled. He kept his weight against the boulder and worked his legs to make sure the rock didn’t come to a stop. Luckily, the boulder had been weathered and rounded by the elements so that it rolled fairly easily.
As they neared the edge of the field, the two men gave the boulder a last vigorous shove, sending it rolling off the field into a clump of smaller rocks. Tom and Joshua stood watching as it came to a halt. Their arms hung limply at their sides, and they were breathing heavily.
"Well...we did it!" Joshua said triumphantly.
"Damn right we did!" Tom agreed. He abruptly clamped a hand over his mouth. "Uh, sorry, Pastor. Didn't mean to cuss in front of you."
Joshua clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Tom. That rock was so stubborn that it deserved a little cussing."
"Come on back to the soddy with us. Don't know about you, but I could use a drink of cool water."
"Sounds good," Joshua agreed.
Violet handed his coat to him. Instead of putting it on, he draped it over one arm, and the three of them walked over the rise to the soddy. Joshua’s placid old saddle horse followed. When they were in front of the cabin, Tom passed around the water bucket and the dipper. Joshua found the water cool and good, and it went a long way toward restoring the energy he had burned up in helping to move the boulder.
"That's good," he said as he handed the bucket to Tom. "You're lucky to have such a fine stream close by."
Tom nodded. "It's only a couple of hundred yards down to the creek. I been thinkin' that when Pa and me get the time, it might be a good idea to dig a ditch over there so we could get water easier."
"That's interesting," Joshua agreed. "It might make this land even more productive."
At last Violet spoke. "Tom has lots of good ideas about farming," she said proudly. "We'll do just fine here if folks will let us alone."
"Yes," Joshua agreed, his voice becoming more solemn. "I'm so relieved that the trouble is beginning to cease. I've been praying that there won't be any more."
"No offense, Pastor, but prayin' isn't goin’ to stop those fellows. Sooner or later, it's goin’ to come down to shootin’."
"I hope not, Tom," Joshua said fervently. "There has to be a way to solve the problems without violence."
"Only other way is to run." Bitterness tinged Tom's voice. "The way we ran out of Georgia. Some of us wanted to stay and fight there, but Pa talked us out of it. Said it'd be better to come out here and start over, rather than gettin’ more folks killed. The war had already killed enough, he said.”
"Too many," Joshua said. "Any deaths are too many."
Tom smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. "That's the preacher in you talkin’. Some folks just need killin’, like those carpetbaggers who came in and took over our farm and killed my ma when they did it. They got our place and dozens of others around us. It was all legal, they said. Wasn't a thing we could do about it." The young man grimaced. "The folks who didn't want to leave, well, they got burned out or shot. Supposed to be the government, but they're nothin' but a bunch of thieves and murderers."
"I...I know it was hard back where you came from."
"It sure was, Pastor. It sure was." Tom looked up suddenly. "Look there, Violet! That stubborn ol’ cow's got loose again!"
Violet and Joshua followed his pointing finger and saw a milk cow ambling across one of the fields, the piece of rope that had served as an inadequate tether trailing behind her. Violet said, "I'll go get her," but Tom waved her back with a hand.
"I'll round her up," he said. "Take a stick to her and teach her some sense, that's what I ought to do." He loped off across the field after the cow.
Joshua watched him for a moment, then turned to Violet. "Your brother is a rather angry young man," he said.
"He's not my brother," Violet replied. "He's pretty mad about everything that's happened, though."
Joshua frowned. "I was under the impression that you and Tom were brother and sister."
Violet shook her head. "Nope. My name's Violet Sills. My folks were friends of Ira's. They... they were killed a while back."
When she hesitated, Joshua asked, "Was it the carpetbaggers?"
The girl shook her head. "No. My pa didn't like them, but he wasn't a fighting man. A wagon turned over, and both my ma and pa were under it. I...I guess that's why I was so scared when that wagon ran away with me when we were on our way here."
Joshua had heard about the runaway wagon from Cully. Now knowing how Violet's parents had died, he understood her terror very well.
"Anyway, after the accident, Ira and Hattie took me in,” she went on. “Then, when Hattie was killed and we had to run for our lives from the carpetbaggers, Ira said he’d bring me out here with the others. Him and Tom are the only family I've got now."
Joshua nodded. He studied Violet's face as she watched Tom rounding up the straying cow, and he saw something in her eyes that he had missed when he thought they were brother and sister. Admiration and affection were in Violet's gaze, but something deeper was lighting her brown eyes. She was in love with the young man.
With this realization, Joshua's thoughts began to churn. Violet was an attractive young woman, and Tom a handsome young man. They lived in the same cabin. It was only natural that an attraction would develop between them. Joshua started to frown. This was a decidedly improper arrangement.
On the other hand, Ira Powell lived here, too, and Joshua had seen enough of the man to know that he was decent and honorable. Ira would see to it that nothing happened until the two young people were married.
And Joshua was suddenly sure that sooner or later Tom and Violet would be married. It had to be. He smiled. Perhaps they would let him perform the ceremony in the church. That would be something to look forward to.
Tom was grinning as he led the cow back. He tied it securely to the stake, then returned to the soddy. The hostility within him seemed to have subsided. "Thanks for helpin' me with that rock, Pastor," he said. "It'd still be there if you hadn't come along."
"Please, call me Joshua. And I was glad to be of help. That is part of my calling, after all."
Tom extended his hand. "Next time you ride out here, we won't put you to work," he promised. "You will be comin’ this way again, won't you?"
Joshua nodded, gripping Tom's hand. "I'
ll be back," he said.
Cully Markham ambled across Railroad Street and headed for the Abilene depot of the Kansas Pacific Railroad. The large, red-brick building sat beside the tracks, which ran at an angle through the heart of town. One of Abilene's busiest areas, the depot bustled, especially when a train was expected, and the two-fifteen was scheduled to arrive from the east within a quarter hour.
Cully walked into the station building and cut through the waiting room, which was filled with families, drummers, gamblers, and even a soiled dove or two. A few people were here to greet passengers who would disembark in Abilene, but most were waiting to board the incoming train and journey westward.
As he strolled onto the long, covered platform next to the tracks, Cully spotted the slight form and pinched features of Emery Thornbury, who was standing a few feet away. Thornbury had his hands jammed in his pockets and was tapping one foot impatiently.
Cully, pushing his hat back on his head, stepped over to the schoolteacher. "Howdy, Emery," he said with a broad smile. "You come to meet the train, too?"
Thornbury glanced at him through slitted eyes. "Is that an official question, Deputy?" he snapped.
"No," Cully replied. "I just figured you might've heard that the new schoolmarm was due to come in on the next train, like I did."
Thornbury frowned. "Who told you?"
"Dr. Keller."
"I might have known," Thornbury muttered. "That woman seems to mind everyone's business but her own."
Cully stopped grinning. "This is her business, since she's responsible for getting a new teacher to help you."
"Yes. Don't think I've forgotten that."
"You think she'll be young and pretty?"
"I don't know, and I don't care," Thornbury sniffed. "All I know is that she is inexperienced, which means she'll be of little or no help to me."
"I think I should brush up on my spelling," Cully went on jokingly. "Maybe Miss Garrison will agree to some private tutoring."
Thornbury, glaring disdainfully at Cully, said nothing.
Cully shrugged and moved over to one of the posts that supported the roof over the platform. Leaning against it lazily, he looked down the tracks to the east.
Rattler's Law, Volume One Page 67