The Kissing Tree

by Karen Witemeyer

  Bella loved the fitting between them—­how her fingers were surrounded by his hand, how her palm brushed so deliciously against his. If it were to be truly romantic in the proper sense, she reckoned they would both be wearing gloves, and she would have been escorted on his arm, but bare hands felt fine enough for a working day.

  It was true, what her parents had said. Adam had courting on his mind. If he was thinking along those lines, she needed him to clear up his intentions.

  “I don’t reckon I understand how your job works,” she said. “You’re going to follow the harvest, right? Are you going to do that every year?”

  When he looked at her, he noticed that she was carrying her lunch pail. “Give me that,” he said. “I’m supposed to do all the toting.” She was afraid he’d forgotten to answer her question, but once they got past the mercantile, he commenced. “At first I’ll travel. Harvest starts here in the middle of May, and I can follow it north as the crops ripen, all the way until November.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  “Over the winter I’ll make repairs on my equipment and maybe make some money working on whatever people need fixing in town. Eventually I’d like to settle down and have teams that do the harvesting for me. I’ll train them and buy the equipment, but I’d be managing from a home office.”

  “And where is home?” she asked.

  “If I lose this wager, home can’t be here.”

  “Did you want it to be?”

  “I had an idea that it’d be a nice place to live. There was this girl who lived here that I couldn’t forget.” Adam tugged on her hand.

  Despite her sudden shyness, Bella met his gaze.

  “Bella,” he said, “when I started along this path, there was no guarantee that you would be here, no guarantee that you would want to see me, but I imagined this, just the same. If you had any idea—”

  “Miss Eden, are you holding that man’s hand?” Freda Longstreet called from behind the hardware store. Max Bresden leaned around her to get a peek for himself.

  “This was her punishment for failing a test,” Adam replied with a wink at Max.

  Freda dissolved into giggles while sending Max a shy glance.

  “Miss Eden wouldn’t fail a test, but don’t worry. We won’t tell,” Max said to Adam.

  “The code among gentlemen,” Adam responded as they continued up the road toward the oak tree.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Bella said. “Freda won’t pass another exam for the rest of her days if it means keeping Max’s attention.”

  “You’re joshing me. No one would fail a test to catch a man.”

  “Not an important test,” Bella said. Then, with a copious batting of her eyes, she added, “but maybe a practice test.”

  Adam stopped before the oak. “Bella Eden, are you telling me that you could’ve passed that test?”

  She grinned. “I’m getting better. Surely you’ve noticed?”

  “I was surprised you didn’t succeed today.”

  “I did succeed.” She lifted their joined hands. “I just changed the goal.”

  His chest rose with a quick, strong breath. “You . . . I . . .” He shook his head. “Pass your exam, Bella Eden. That’s an order. Else I’m going to make the consequence that I won’t hold your hand unless you succeed.”

  “Would you do that?”

  “It’d be a trial, that’s for sure,” he said. He glanced at the tree. “You know, if it had been me three years ago, I wouldn’t have refused to kiss you. I thought a lot of you then, and even more now.”

  “How so?” Bella spent all day, every day encouraging her students. She rarely got any encouragement back.

  “Well, you taught yourself to sew. Then, when that wasn’t possible, you taught yourself to teach. Now you’re fighting to keep your place there. A lesser woman would’ve given up.”

  His hand slid from her hand to her wrist. Holding it out in front of them, he turned it side to side to study it. Even for a woman, her wrist was delicate. In his hand, it looked tiny. His grasp felt as strong and warm as the splint she’d worn until it was healed.

  “My parents warned me that you were more interested in courting me than helping me keep my job,” Bella said.

  Adam turned her hand over and pressed his lips to the fine blue veins of her wrist. Her pulse jumped right along with her heart.

  “Adam?” she breathed.

  His blue eyes were solemn. “You would have to know, with me on the road half the year, that our lives wouldn’t be a carefree paradise. There would be rough patches—­missing each other, fearful for each other . . .”

  “Sounds like now,” Bella said. “Fearful for the future. Fearful that you won’t be able to come back to Oak Springs.”

  “Fearful that I’ll be the cause of you losing another position you love.”

  There was no denying the hardships before them if they chose this path. All they could do was pray for God to work His will on the matter.

  Although the shade of the oak was nearby, Adam and Bella stood in the sun, knowing they hadn’t earned the reprieve. Not yet. And after a shared smile, they continued on through the world of crops, tests, and conflict.

  nine

  It was the last day of school, and the town planned to celebrate with a midday picnic, after which the children would go home and prepare for harvest. Bella took one end of a sawhorse while Freda took the other, and they toted it from the carpenter’s shop to the schoolyard. Four more trips, and her wrist wasn’t hurting yet. Not even a twinge. Looking over her shoulder as she walked backward, Bella dodged the kids rolling stumps that they were gathering to make benches.

  Another wagon rolled up. Mrs. Whitlock climbed down with the weight of her cloth-­covered basket digging into her arm. There would be plenty of food. Everyone was eager to get together to socialize. A last hurrah before they got down to the business of bringing in the wheat.

  Bella kept a close eye on the road. Adam had said he was coming. It would be the first time he and her father would meet since the challenge had been made. Would her father behave himself? Would he even come? When she had left the house that morning, he’d been out in the fields with his two field hands, scything down his crops for harvest, even though the wheat for the contest tomorrow was already drying.

  “Where are we putting the food?” Mrs. Whitlock asked.

  “Inside the schoolhouse. Hopefully the flies won’t be as bad in there.”

  Bella and Freda arranged the sawhorse, then lifted a board onto it to make another table. The younger students rolled stumps up to the table—­switching them around until two the same height were matched—­then dropped a plank over them.

  The kids’ excitement was contagious. Any time their parents had occasion to visit the schoolhouse, they thrashed about like eels in a barrel. Bella loved the pride they took in their classroom. She felt it too. But it wouldn’t be her classroom much longer if she couldn’t pass the exam. A stranger would sit at her desk and talk to her children. That room, where she would only be a visitor, would become foreign to her. She couldn’t let it happen.

  As she organized the parade of food coming in, she felt that old anxiety about the test rising up again. No, she couldn’t do that. She stretched her back and followed the cursive alphabet that she’d painted over the top of the chalkboard until she calmed herself. Think about good things, she reminded herself. How wonderful it’ll be when I pass the test and am assured a place here as long as I want.

  But how long did she want to be here? According to the wager, Adam would be banned from Oak Springs if he lost. Was she willing to leave to be with him?

  Oak Springs was her home. Teaching these children was what she was meant to do. But if she felt at home right now, why did she feel incomplete without Adam?

  Seeing that everything was in place, Bella gave notice to the ladies, then went to ring the schoolhouse bell.

  With the first pealing, heads turned her way. The kids scrambled like mad toward
the school door, while most of the men returned to their conversations. She’d spotted Dr. Paulson first. His spotless gray suit and white hair made him difficult to miss in the group of men. They seemed to be hanging on his every word, but they weren’t all farmers. There was Mr. Doris and Mr. Woodward. Neither had any interest in agriculture, but they were both school board members. In fact, that was the school board talking to him. Every single one of them.

  Look for the positives, she reminded herself. Like the fact that Adam would be here soon. But where was he? She stepped out of the doorway and stood on her tiptoes as she scanned the schoolyard. Her father was coming down the road, but there was no sign of Adam.

  “Looking for someone?” It was Adam, leaning against the corner of the schoolhouse. “You must be, the way you’re craning your neck about.”

  Bella wanted to punch him and hug him at the same time. “I should be inside bragging on my students instead of waiting for some no-­account man to show up.”

  “I’ll watch for him,” Adam offered, “and tell him you’re riled he wasn’t here sooner.”

  She found herself doing a sweeping take of him from head to toe. “Get yourself some food before it’s all gone.”

  “I’ll help serve first.”

  If her parents hadn’t already known she was spending time with Adam after school, it would have been obvious from the way the students gathered around him. He’d often chewed the fat with them in the schoolyard while he waited for Bella to finish tutoring a struggling student. Bella smiled as Teddy pulled a frog out of his pocket to show Adam. Had that thing been in his pocket all morning? Probably, but it was the last day of school, and the boy had waited for his froggy entertainment as long as he could.

  After conversing with his adoring throng, Adam came around the table and started handing out cornbread muffins to those in line.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said as he served. “Tomorrow is that contest, and if I lose, I’ll be banned from stepping foot back in Oak Springs. If that happens . . .”

  “Do you think it will?”

  “Not a chance. It’s impossible that a team of three men can do the work a thresher can do, but if by some miracle they did, I want to take you with me.”

  A jolt of happiness shot up Bella’s backbone. The heavy spoon full of beans wobbled as she splatted the contents on the side of Max’s plate, covering his thumb.

  “I’m sorry.” Bella grabbed a towel and handed it to the boy. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Max took a rueful look at Adam. Then, remembering their gentlemen’s agreement, he sighed. “I reckon you have other things on your mind. Thank you, Miss Eden.”

  Once the boy was out of earshot, she dropped the spoon on the table.

  “What do you mean, take me with you?” she whispered to Adam. “Do you think I’d just pack up my things and run away?”

  To her annoyance, he merely shrugged. “Would you?”

  “What was the point of all this, then? All the studying and test practicing? I did that so I wouldn’t lose my position, not so I could abandon it.”

  “I told you, Bella. My job will take me far from here every year. I won’t be a man who is home before dark every night and leaves at first light every morning, but I want to be the man for you. That might not be what you want, and if not, I need to know. I need to know before tomorrow, because I can’t leave this place without knowing if you’ll follow.”

  “Would you want me even if I couldn’t be with you all the time?” she whispered as she lowered a basket of chicken from the table so a little one could get another piece.

  She couldn’t look at him—­couldn’t bear to see the regret in his eyes. Wiping her hands on her skirt, Bella straightened, but before she could turn to face him, Adam grasped her hand. His grip was iron. She stared straight ahead, aware that the parents and students visiting in the corner of the schoolhouse had no idea that her happiness hung in the balance as they gnawed on chicken drumsticks.

  “Would I want you?” His voice strained. “Oh, Bella, getting a single day with you is worth months apart.”

  Their hands tangled in a desperate clasp. She laughed, and it was a low, throaty sound that surprised her. “In the summer, I could go with you,” she said. “That is, if it isn’t too much trouble to have me along.”

  “And I need a home to settle in over the winter. I was hoping for it to be here.”

  “But I won’t hold you back. If you’re willing to let me stay and teach . . .”

  “We both have dreams.” His eyes searched hers as he lifted her hand to cover it with both of his. “We’ll pursue them together, even when we’re apart.”

  With Adam’s encouragement, everything seemed possible.

  “My students.” Against her wishes, Bella pulled away. “I’m supposed to be talking to the parents about the children. It’s their party, after all.”

  Adam stepped out from behind the table to clear the way for her. “I’ll be outside,” he said with a hand on her back.

  She sighed, then made her way to a grouping of parents. Most of them had already seen the report cards and knew their children’s marks. There shouldn’t be any surprises about the performance of their kids, but from the way the parents in this group were acting, you’d think they were dreading her appearance.

  Bella smiled and made her way toward them regardless. It was her job to be welcoming, even if they were uncomfortable. She’d just held out her hand when she caught the last line of the conversation from Mr. Whitlock.

  “It’s not as if we would’ve selected her over another teacher. She was the only one available.”

  Bella’s smile vanished. Seeing her, Mrs. Longstreet cleared her throat and glared at Mr. Whitlock. The warning was obvious, but it was too late to spare Bella or anyone else in the group. She’d heard, and they all knew she’d heard.

  Borrowing from Adam’s show of courage, she addressed them. “I understand the sentiment,” she said, “but do you have any suggestions on how I could be a better teacher? I’m capable of improving.”

  Mrs. Longstreet dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before answering. “You’ve done a fine job for someone in your circumstance. We aren’t criticizing your efforts, but you don’t have the qualifications that a new teacher might.”

  “I’m going to take my teacher’s exam,” Bella said. “I’m scheduled to take it tomorrow. If . . . when I pass it, I’ll be just as qualified as any student straight from the college, and I have more experience, to boot.”

  Mrs. Longstreet’s eyebrows rose. She shot a sideways glance at the others. “You’re taking the test?” She spoke slowly, watching for the approval of her comrades. “That would be helpful. We don’t mean to leave you without a job, but we want what’s best for our children.”

  Bella kept her chin up and her back straight. Adam had been right. That piece of paper didn’t change her teaching, but if it gave the community more faith in her, then it was worth it. All she had to do now was actually pass the test.

  “Why would you listen to him anyway?” someone proclaimed from outside.

  Bella cringed. The voice was her father’s. She scrambled out the door to see him and Dr. Paulson standing among the long tables. Unfortunately, they had everyone’s attention, and her father was making the most of it.

  “This professor has made his living at a school. His time was spent in a classroom. If he has a theory that doesn’t pan out, he still collects a salary.” Her father turned and jabbed his chest with his thumb. “Me, on the other hand, I don’t get paid for coming up with theories. I only get paid when those theories work. I’ve raised a family on what I’ve brought up from the ground. There wasn’t anybody paying me money if I made a mistake. That’s why I don’t trust these theories from men with soft hands and proud ways. There’s a lot of arrogance available when you haven’t had to live on your theories. You can be sure about everything when it hasn’t been tested. That’s why I think I’ll winnow my own crop this year. I don
’t have a year’s worth of work I can gamble on the advice of an academic.”

  Bella wanted to grab Adam by the arm to stop him from getting involved, but she was too late.

  “Mr. Eden, I respect your experience in farming,” Adam said. “Everyone respects you, and you’re right that you have more farming knowledge than we do. That’s true. You know what weather to plant in, you know what seed does best on your farm, you know when the crops are ready to cut. You have all that knowledge. But my knowledge is in machinery.” He paused to draw the eyes of the group. “I could learn a lot from all of you about farming, but mostly I wanted to find a machine that would help you so your farming wasn’t so much toil. We’re on the same side. We aren’t in competition.”

  “Yes, you are,” Mr. Clovis called out. “You’re dueling it out tomorrow. Winner take all.”

  His exaggeration was appreciated by the crowd, but Bella fumed. It wasn’t winner take all. No one was going to lose property, only their pride. But maybe that was worse than high-­dollar stakes.

  “I’ll meet you at my farm in the morning,” her father said. “And after that, I don’t reckon we’ll be seeing you in town again.”

  Bella looked at the sky. One day, and either Adam would be banned, or her job would be in jeopardy.

  ten

  They hadn’t set any particular time for the contest, but Adam was raring to go. Before the sun was up, he’d heard Mrs. Doris greeting people in the kitchen of the boarding­house. Evidently no one was waiting for him to appear at Eden’s farm. From the looks on their faces when he stepped into the crowded kitchen, they’d expected him to run away and miss the contest.

  That was the last thing on Adam’s mind. He had to have the money he’d make from these farmers. Turning down Mrs. Doris’s offer of breakfast, he accepted a cup of coffee instead. No matter who won, there were going to be consequences. He only hoped Mr. Eden could lose with grace. He didn’t want to embarrass the father of the woman he loved. Why had he allowed himself to get dragged into this event in the first place?