by BJ Hoff
When Ben moved to bring the subject to a halt, casually pointing out that he didn’t believe they needed to consider Henry’s singleness an issue, Gibbon resisted. “I don’t mean to offend, Henry, you understand. But you’ve kept to yourself over the years. Folks don’t really know you very well. There could be a problem of trust—”
At that point Jonathan would have objected, but Henry lifted a hand to indicate that he wanted to address Gibbon’s concern.
“I understand what you’re saying, Mr. Gibbon. And you’re right, I haven’t been all that sociable. There was always the farm and the house to take care of and the animals to tend. And I’ve never been one who’s all that comfortable with folks I don’t know. And I expect I’m pretty quiet by nature.” He stopped, folded his hands together on top of the table, and went on. “But I am comfortable with children. And I was a good teacher. I think I’d still be a good teacher, given the chance. I’d like to work with children again, and that’s why I’m here.”
He held Jonathan’s gaze for a moment and then looked down at his hands. Jonathan glanced around at the others and saw what he needed to see. He waited for Ernest Gibbon to offer another objection. When none came, he told Henry he would hear from them soon.
Ben Wallace waited until Henry left the room, then asked Jonathan if he had anything to add before they voted.
“Only that I’m in favor of hiring Henry Piper,” he said, “assuming his background and credentials are verified. He’s an excellent candidate for the job. He’s intelligent, experienced, and a member of the community. And he’s eager for the job.”
Everyone nodded their accord—except Ernest Gibbon, who, as they all knew, was inclined to always have the final word.
“Well, now, we don’t want to rush things, do we?” Gibbon said. “There’s been talk, you know, that Henry might be kind of…eccentric. By his own admission he’s not a bit sociable. And I can’t help but wonder why a man his age has never married—”
Jonathan sighed. “Did you wonder the same thing about me, Ernest?”
“Now, Jonathan, you’re a much younger man than Henry Piper,” Gibbon replied, fingering his shirt collar. “And you did take women out, after all, before you were married. You weren’t some kind of hermit. You didn’t shut yourself off from everybody else in town.”
Ever the peacemaker, Ben Wallace broke into the conversation. “I don’t think we can assume that Henry is odd, Ernest, just because he stays home most of the time or because he’s not married.” He paused and smiled. “There’s no abundance of unmarried women his age in Skingle Creek, you know. Could be he’s just never met the right woman. I don’t believe we ought to count that against him. Why don’t we go ahead and take a contingent vote so we’ll know where we stand? Jonathan seems to think Henry is well-qualified for the job, and his opinion counts with me.”
Matthew, the only miner on the board, spoke up before Ernest could. “Agreed.”
Gibbon muttered something Jonathan couldn’t catch. With no further objection, they voted. By the end of the meeting Henry Piper had been approved as the new schoolteacher for Skingle Creek, subject to his background information and credentials being in order.
This was the first time Maggie had ever been inside the Tallman house. Although she and Kenny had been friends as children, their friendship didn’t include visits to Kenny’s house.
Judson Tallman had always kept the rest of the town at arm’s length, and even as a child Maggie sensed Kenny wasn’t allowed to bring friends home. The Tallmans simply didn’t do that. And even though it was said that Judson Tallman had softened some toward his son and his employees at the mine, he had never been a man to warm up to. People instinctively kept their distance.
The Tallman house was large and neatly kept. Maggie wasn’t surprised to find that it was furnished sparsely, and with little attention given to the niceties that made a house a home. Mr. Tallman had lived alone for years now, ever since Kenny had graduated and gone off to college. His lack of interest in his home couldn’t have been more obvious. The draperies were dusty and frayed in places, and the upholstered pieces looked as though they might shed a cloud of dust if anyone sat down on them too hard. This was a place where someone slept and sometimes ate. No pets curled up for naps or came running to the door when someone arrived. It was a place that might just as well have stood empty had it not been for a few crocheted layette pieces here and there and the aroma of fresh coffee drifting down the hall.
As if sensing Maggie’s thoughts, Anna glanced around at the front room with a wry smile. “Awful, isn’t it?”
Maggie felt as if she’d been caught stealing the silver. “What? Oh no! It’s very nice, Anna. Really.”
“No, it’s not. It’s horrible. It breaks my heart to think of Ken growing up in such a cold, vacant place.” A plaintive expression crossed her features, as though she were actually looking into the past and seeing Kenny here as a lonely young boy.
“I hate it that Ken had such an unhappy childhood!” she said in a heated outburst unlike the quiet, reserved woman Maggie had come to know. “I can scarcely wait until we have a place of our own and the baby is born so I can make a real home for him.”
Unexpectedly Maggie’s eyes filled. This woman would change Kenny’s life—had already changed his life, and all for the best. “He’s so fortunate to have you,” she said, propping Gracie against her shoulder. “I’m so glad the two of you found each other.”
“May I hold her?” Anna asked, reaching for Gracie from her end of the sofa.
Gracie went willingly when Maggie passed her over to the other woman, and once settled in the crook of Anna’s arm, lay studying her.
“What a darling she is! I’d love to have a little girl too, but between you and me, I’m hoping our first is a son. I think it will be so good for Ken to have a son.”
“He’ll be a wonderful father,” Maggie said, convinced of it.
“Yes, he will.” Anna smiled at her. “Just as your Jonathan is. I love watching him with Gracie. He adores her.”
As they talked, Gracie fell asleep in Anna’s arms.
“She gets heavy after a bit, Anna. Let me take her.”
“Absolutely not. I love this!”
Anna seemed keenly interested in Maggie’s plans once her position at the school came to an end.
“I really haven’t had time to think much about it,” Maggie admitted. “I know it’s going to be difficult at first, until I get used to not working. But taking care of Gracie and looking after the house will keep me plenty busy. I’m sure I’ll adjust.” She stopped. “You know, lately I’ve almost been looking forward to it. If it weren’t for Jonathan fretting about not having me at the school, I think I might come to like the idea. Sometimes I feel so harried, rushing out every morning, dropping Gracie off at my mother’s, hurrying through the evenings to get ready for the next day.”
Anna nodded but Maggie didn’t think she looked all that convinced.
“What?” Maggie prompted. “You don’t think I’ll be satisfied if I’m not teaching?”
Anna glanced down at Gracie and tucked the blanket more closely about her before shifting the baby a bit higher against her arm.
“Oh, I can’t possibly know that, Maggie. It’s just that I have an idea that I’m hoping you’ll be interested in.”
“What kind of an idea?”
“First, have you heard what Ken has been up to lately?”
Maggie hadn’t. She listened with increasing interest as Anna told her of Kenny’s efforts to establish a mission for the wives and families of deceased or disabled miners. “Ken found out about the need from Pastor Wallace. Many of the mine widows have to move out of their homes once their husbands are gone because they can’t meet the rent. And there’s the lack of food and clothing. Ken says some of the families don’t even have enough bedding to keep warm.”
“I know it can be disastrous for the family of a miner who’s been killed or permanently disabled,” Mag
gie agreed. “Ben Wallace has done what he can, but he’s so busy as a full-time pastor, I’m sure it’s impossible for him to keep up with everything. And once he leaves—”
“Well, Ken’s quite the organizer. He’s had to be, living on the mission field as it were. And he’s a great one for raising funds as well. He has a good head for making things work.”
“But he’ll need to be paid,” Maggie pointed out. “He can’t just volunteer his time for free with a baby coming—” She stopped. “Oh, Anna! I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that. It’s absolutely none of my business!”
Anna laughed at her embarrassment. “Don’t be silly. You merely stated what I’ve already told my husband. Once we have our own place, we’ll need to pay our rent too. Not to mention put food on the table.” She shifted Gracie a little. “I’m really not worried about us, Maggie. Not at all. Something will come along for Ken soon, I’m sure. He was so convinced about coming back here. He believes this is where God wants him, at least for now. I’ve learned to trust his insights and his instincts. If God has truly called Ken back to Skingle Creek, He’ll take care of us.”
Maggie nodded. “Meanwhile, Kenny—I’m sorry, I’m so used to calling him that—Ken is going to help take care of the town. The people in Skingle Creek may not know it yet, but they need you and Kenny. I need you.”
“I think we need each other, Maggie. And in that regard, let me tell you my idea.”
Maggie rested her hands in her lap and waited.
Anna captured her attention in an instant. “I’m thinking of starting a school,” she said. “A school for younger children who can’t attend regular school yet. Not until after the baby is born, of course, and Ken locates a permanent position.”
She paused. “And I’m hoping you’ll consider becoming my partner.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Sharing News
A little love, a little trust,
A soft impulse, a sudden dream,
And life as dry as desert dust
Is fresher than a mountain stream.
Stopford A. Brooke
Maggie saw Jonathan’s excitement as soon as he helped her and Gracie into the buggy. She decided to keep her own news for later.
They’d no more driven away from the Tallmans than he handed her a sheaf of paper.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A list of songs the men are ready to sing,” he said with a smile as he turned his attention back to the road. “Consider it your own private invitation to come to the next rehearsal and hear them for yourself. I received their permission to invite you.”
“Oh, that’s grand! I’d love to come and listen. Can Gracie come too?”
“Naturally the invitation includes Gracie.”
“There’s more,” Maggie said, watching him closely. “I can tell.”
“You read me so easily, don’t you?” he said, glancing at her. “Well, I hope you’re pleased with the rest of my news, although I’m still not quite sure how I feel about it.” He paused. “We’re about to hire someone for your position, Maggie. On a trial basis, just until the end of the school year.”
Because this piece of news was so completely unexpected, Maggie struggled to take it in. When she didn’t reply right way, Jonathan reached for her hand. “Maggie?” he questioned, again turning to look at her.
“Oh, I’m glad for you, Jonathan. Really I am! I’m just…surprised, that’s all. So tell me, who is it?”
“You’ll never believe it. Henry Piper.”
Maggie stared at him. “Not the same Henry Piper who owns the dairy farm?”
“That’s the one.”
“But is he qualified?”
“It seems so. He has a teacher’s certificate and three years teaching experience at an elementary school in Frankfort. And he’s eager for the job. The board approved him subject to checking out his background. As I said, we won’t be offering him a permanent position, just to the end of the school year. After that we’ll see what happens. But my instincts tell me he’s going to work out just fine.”
“Henry Piper,” she said softly. “Who would have thought it?”
She’d have to mull it over, but after the initial sting of realizing what this meant, that it had just become possible for her to leave the school as planned, she thought she was glad.
“Well,” she said cheerfully, “I can finally stop worrying about how you’re going to get along without me.”
He gave her a long, studying look. “Are you really all right with this, sweetheart?”
Maggie decided she was. “Yes, I believe I am. In fact, now that I know you’ve found a teacher, I might just as well tell you that in a way I’m relieved. I’ve been praying someone—the right someone–would come along so you wouldn’t be left overburdened by my leaving. It’s been difficult for me at times, trying to manage everything, what with the job and the house and Gracie. I was feeling as though I wasn’t doing anything as well as I wanted to.”
“That’s not true at all. You’ve been wonderful. But I know it hasn’t been easy. So you don’t mind then?”
“No, I really don’t. I want the best for you and the students, and it sounds as though everything is going to work out just grand. No, I don’t mind. I think this will be best for everyone.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad. And now, tell me your news.”
Maggie couldn’t stop a smile. “How do you know I have news to tell?”
“Those green eyes of yours have been shooting fireworks since I came to pick you up. So tell me, what do you know that I don’t?”
By now they were pulling up in front of the house.
“Let’s wait until we get inside,” Maggie said.
By the time they got inside, however, Gracie was fretful. Before anything else, Jonathan gave her a bottle and put her down for a brief nap while Maggie started supper.
Later, when he came into the kitchen, Jonathan came up behind her and put his hands around her waist. He turned her around to kiss her soundly. The spoon in Maggie’s hand went clanging against the stove, sending a splash over the side and onto Figaro’s nose, which the big hound promptly licked and then looked up, obviously hoping for more.
“I missed you,” Jonathan said, loosening his tie and watching as she retrieved the gravy spoon.
Maggie feigned a frown. “It’s only been three hours.”
He shrugged. “Too long.”
“You’d best get used to it, dear. It won’t be long now until we’ll be apart all day.”
Brightness left his face. “I’m not ready to think about that.”
“Oh, Jonathan, I’m sorry. I was only teasing. You know it has to be this way. Besides,” she said, ignoring a twinge of hurt on her own part, “don’t they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
Again he circled her waist. “If my heart grows any fonder of you, my love, it will explode. Now let’s get supper on the table. While we eat you can tell me what has you so excited.”
He lost track of time as they talked. When he first heard Anna Tallman’s plan, he wasn’t at all sure it was a workable idea. Moreover, he wasn’t convinced that he even liked the idea. He was already begrudging Henry Piper the position he still thought of as Maggie’s. While he recognized the need to hire someone, and certainly Henry, by all appearances, would seem to be well-qualified for the position, he couldn’t help but resist the idea of another teacher replacing Maggie. He knew he was being intractable, but there it was. He didn’t even want to think of someone else in her place.
Even so, come the end of March—which by now wasn’t all that far off—she would have to leave. The law required it. It struck him that as practical as Maggie had tried to be about leaving the school, more than once over the past few weeks he’d seen a shadow pass over her face when the subject was mentioned. She hadn’t admitted it to him. She was even pretending to be relieved, but he knew her final parting from the school was going to be difficult to say the least.
Perhaps, then, this idea of Anna’s might turn out to be a good thing after all. Unconventional, yes. But based on his own experiences as a teacher, he thought it just might work. As far as he knew, there was nothing to restrict two women, both talented, exceptional teachers, from conducting a private school on private property.
It was not without its obstacles, a major one being a way to fund it. But when he pointed this out, Maggie had another surprise.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she said, getting up to take their plates to the sink. “Kenny’s father has offered to fund us for the first year.”
Jonathan stared at her. “Judson Tallman? Are you serious?”
“Entirely. Isn’t that unbelievable?
“Why in the world would he make such an offer? I mean, yes, Anna is his daughter-in-law, but Tallman’s never been known as a generous man.”
She came back and sat down. “I was surprised too. But do you know what I think? I think this might be his way of keeping Kenny in Skingle Creek. And don’t forget there’ll soon be a grandchild in the picture.”
Jonathan considered her words. “You might be right. From what Anna’s told you, it sounds as though Tallman genuinely likes her. Could be he really wants to help.”
She looked dubious.
“Tallman has changed over the years,” Jonathan reminded her. “He’s not as hard a man as he was when Kenny was growing up. I’d like to think he’s genuinely interested in helping out. A private school in Skingle Creek: that will be an event.”
“Oh, don’t call it that, Jonathan! A ‘private school’ sounds so pretentious.”
“Nevertheless that’s what it will be. We can probably help out a little with finances too. I don’t know that I want Judson Tallman doing it all. You haven’t said what ages you’re thinking of.”
“Anna mentioned four and five year olds.”
He nodded. “A private kindergarten.”