Hannah glanced back at Brenna, compassion simmering in her eyes. “It’s amazing how she can tell our voices apart so well. I just can’t get over it.”
“I know,” Brenna said. “She gets around so easily in my home. Says she wasn’t always blind. It breaks my heart all the same.”
“You’ve done well by her. Have you found out anything more about your aunt? It’s all so curious.”
Brenna’s heart filled with a sadness born of not knowing her aunt’s intentions, and for the time lost that they could’ve had together. “I received a letter from Wilsonville in response to the one I wrote to the postmaster. It was short and I could hardly read his chicken scratch, but he said Aunt Cora just disappeared. Said before that day she’d sold a few things here and there. That would explain the thirty-two dollars I found stuffed into a sock.” Brenna glanced away from her friend’s concerned appraisal. She’d also found a music box, its top inlaid with walnut, and a beautiful, expensive-looking garnet bracelet mixed in with the articles of clothing. Aunt Cora had been her only living relative. She hadn’t seen her for over twenty years, and hardly recalled what her mother’s sister looked like. She sighed, wondering if Maddie, as impossible as it might sound, could somehow be her child. If not that, her ward. “He didn’t know anything about a blind child. Perhaps Maddie was on the stage and my aunt befriended her. I just don’t know.”
Hannah nodded intently. “How’re you holding up? If you need anything I can have some supplies sent over.”
Brenna placed her hand on her friend’s arm, shushing her. “We’re doing fine.” Her heart swelled as she thought how far they’d come in the last year. I like providing for my family on my own. “But thank you all the same.”
“That’s wonderful. The sentiment bears repeating: you’ve done a fine job with everything.”
Brenna’s face heated. She did her best to stay in the background, not draw attention to herself. Chairwoman of the school council was the first role of importance she’d held in the community and the last thing she wanted to do was make a blunder.
“Well? What about the other situation?” Hannah’s eyes brimmed with speculation.
Brenna tried to pretend she didn’t know what Hannah meant. “Situation?”
Hannah plopped her hands onto her hips. “Don’t play coy with me, Brenna Lane. How are things with Mr. Hutton?”
Brenna felt her shoulders slump and the happiness and excitement of the day drain from her lungs. “You mean ol’ grumpy, grouchy Gregory? I can’t win him over. He enjoys being sour—just like a crabapple picked too soon to eat.”
Hannah blinked. “That bad? He didn’t impress me that way.”
“Well, I’ve given up. You should’ve seen his pleasant expression fizzle when he learned I lived across the street from him. He came over to introduce himself to the new neighbor and all but shot off my porch when he realized it was me. Hardly even smiled when the girls baked him a cake later that same day. I’ll not go out of my way again for him. Not after he broke their shiny little hearts.”
“I’m astonished. He seemed so nice when I met him . . .”
The sound of a throat being cleared sent panic shooting up Brenna’s spine. She knew without turning who was there.
“Mr. Hutton,” Hannah said. “We didn’t hear you approach.”
The dreadful man stood there all spit shined and polished, ready to meet the good citizens of Logan Meadows. His brown corduroy pants hung to his polished, black shoes. His shirt was clean and pressed. His thick hair, although combed, was a bit unkempt in a way Brenna was growing used to. He gripped the handle of the same leather satchel he’d been carrying when she smacked into him outside the bank. He’s not handsome, so just stop thinking that. And when you’re finished with not thinking that, you can thank your lucky stars you’re a grown woman and not required to go to class. He’d be sure to stand you in the corner every day.
“Good day, Mrs. Donovan. Mrs. Lane. I thought I’d come early to be sure everything was ready before the townsfolk arrived.” He took a pocket watch from his pants pocket and flipped open the lid. “That shouldn’t be long now. Is there anything I can help you do?”
“No, thank you,” Brenna said. “Everything is under control.” Did he still foster a grudge over her clumsiness? He’d practically turned in the opposite direction whenever he’d seen her. Perhaps he hadn’t forgiven her for ruining his paper. Or maybe he wasn’t happy he lived so close to her. Certainly, it wasn’t because her heart picked up speed whenever he looked her way.
Thom and Markus rounded the corner in a wagon and started up the hill. Good, reinforcements to the rescue. Brenna waved.
“How do you like Logan Meadows, Mr. Hutton?” Hannah asked. She lifted several plates of assorted cookies from the crate and artfully arranged them on the table. Next came a cinnamon cake and an apple pie.
“Very much. The people I’ve met have gone overboard to give me a nice welcome. I couldn’t ask for a finer schoolhouse, and I was pleasantly surprised with the supplies.”
“And your lodging?”
Brenna cringed inwardly. Why did Hannah have to bring that up?
“Mrs. Miller’s small house suits me well—and smells nice.” He laughed. “A bachelor doesn’t need much room. And the location is perfect.” His eyes cut to Brenna, then back. “Only a short walk from my door to the school. That’ll be handy when the snow starts to fall.”
Hannah laughed. “I hope you brought a wool coat.”
“It was the first thing I packed. Harsh winters in Pennsylvania are not uncommon.”
He seemed so friendly with Hannah. The conversation just flowed. Why did it always stall out when she tried to speak with him?
Thom pulled the buckboard to a halt a few yards away. He greeted everyone, then made a quick job of unloading a few more tables and some chairs, then the rest of the food the Silky Hen had donated. Markus, his hair slicked back and his face glossy clean, bolted down the hill toward Maddie, in typical six-year-old fashion.
“Appears as if things are just about ready to get underway,” Thom said. “I need to get back to the sheriff’s office and do a few things, then I’ll be back when the shindig is in full swing.” He gave Hannah a kiss on the lips, lingering a bit too long, and she pushed him away. He laughed and winked at Brenna, who felt her face heat. “I don’t want to miss anything important.”
Brenna marveled at how much Hannah had blossomed since her childhood sweetheart had come back into her life. A true fairy tale with a happy ending. Thom Donovan had scared the life out of the whole town last year when he’d passed out, only to reveal he had a bullet lodged in his skull. The operation had been difficult and the recovery long, but he’d come out of the ordeal as good as new, promptly marrying Hannah and adopting Markus as his legal son. Hannah had confided that she and Thom were doing their best to have another little one, but it hadn’t happened for them yet.
“Don’t forget the side of beef, you rapscallion,” Hannah teased Thom. “We’ve had the meat cooking at the restaurant,” she explained to Brenna. “Thom’s planning on finishing it over the pit Win dug, so it won’t get cold.”
Thom saluted his wife. “I wouldn’t dream of forgetting.”
Brenna chanced a peek at Mr. Hutton to find him watching the interchange with interest. When he caught her eye, he gestured to the school. “I’ll just be inside.” Brenna nodded, wishing he’d hurry up and be gone. “Mrs. Lane,” he added, “thank you for all the work you’ve done to pull this day together. If the open house goes the way I believe it will, the event will be a huge success. The thanks are all to you.”
The generous compliment caught Brenna off her mark and the pleasant curve of Mr. Hutton’s mouth chased every coherent thought from her mind. “N-no, Mr. Hutton. The thanks go to the good people of Logan Meadows. They’ve all pitched in to make our school nicer and this day a time of celebration.”
His smile dissolved into a straight line. “Well, if you say so, I’m not incl
ined to argue.”
Hannah jabbed her elbow into Brenna’s side as Mr. Hutton walked away. “Be nicer. You seem like a grouchy old hen when he’s around. Loosen up and smile.”
Brenna sighed and turned to her next task. Several riders on horseback headed toward the school, as did a buggy and some ladies on foot. Chase and Jessie’s wagon pulled up among them. More than a handful of citizens were already crowded around Markus and Maddie at the sign-in table.
Old Mrs. Hollyhock climbed the slight incline to the school, barely winded for her eighty-six years. She made her way through the crowd to Brenna’s side. They hugged and Brenna inhaled her familiar aroma of golden-brown piecrust.
“How ya be, sweetie pie?” the old woman asked, peering at her through the spectacles on the end of her nose. Her long, gray hair was done up in a soft bun on the back of her head and she wore her Sunday dress. “You excited the day is finally here?”
“I am. I can’t believe it.”
Mrs. Hollyhock’s eyes sparkled as she looked around. She smiled when she noticed the big plaid bows Brenna had attached above the schoolhouse windows. “Well, ya done did a fine job. And yer girl looks a beauty.”
She tilted her head toward Penny, who approached and handed Brenna her clipboard with several papers attached. The simple green dress her eldest wore had puff sleeves and a ribbon around her small waist. It wouldn’t be long before boys flocked to their porch, Brenna thought in a moment of sadness.
“Mr. Hutton asked me to give you these,” Penny said. “Thought you might have forgotten them inside on his desk.”
Brenna glanced down at the papers, trying to calm her annoyance. I didn’t forget them. I left them there intentionally so they wouldn’t get lost in the hustle and bustle out here. She wrestled her agitation away when Frank Lloyd, the bank owner, headed in her direction. Determined not to let anything ruin the day, she smiled brightly. “Thank you, Penny,” she said, then glanced down at her clipboard. “Please relay my thanks to Mr.—”
She gasped at the list, the words she intended to say shocked out of her mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
What is it, Mama?” Penny asked. Her eyes grew round. “What’s wrong?”
Brenna willed herself to breathe. Her instantly dry mouth felt like a flowerbed in mid-July. She’d overlooked ordering the six copies of First Lessons in Numbers: Oral and Written before the term started. How could I be so careless? At her request, Maude had corresponded with the publishing company several months back, with plenty of time for them to be ordered and delivered. The supplier had responded that they were out of stock and asked her to write back later. Last week she’d gone into the mercantile with that express intention and must have gotten to talking and forgotten.
Mr. Lloyd was almost upon them. “Nothing is wrong, Penny. Now run inside and tell Mr. Hutton thank you very much for sending out my list and then go down and see that Maddie and Markus don’t get overwhelmed at the sign-in table. Hurry now. People are arriving all at once.”
Mrs. Hollyhock went up on tippy-toe to see the clipboard. “Ya sure yer all right?” One couldn’t pull the wool over Violet’s eyes. “Something on that list has yer eyes buggin’ out of their sockets. Can I help?”
“No, Mrs. Hollyhock. I’m fine. I just want to be sure everything is perfect today and for the rest of the school term.”
“That’s a pretty tall order, missy. One thing is certain—and that is nothin’ is certain.” She patted Brenna’s hand and then headed toward Jessie Logan, who was a few feet away chatting with Hannah’s mother, Mrs. Brown. “You let me know if ya change yer mind, Brenna,” she said over her shoulder.
“Ah, Mrs. Lane, just the woman I wanted to see.”
Mr. Lloyd always dressed nice, and today was no exception. He wore one of the shirts she’d mended for him.
“You’ve done a fine job,” he said, glancing around. “Who knows how many more chances we’ll have to enjoy a picnic before the weather changes. If you remember last year, winter came early.”
Brenna tried to give the banker her full attention, but all she could think about was that aggravating Mr. Hutton and the forgotten math books. Even if she had Maude send a telegram today or tomorrow, the books wouldn’t arrive to Logan Meadows before school started.
“Thank you, Mr. Lloyd,” she replied, trying to stop the quiver in her hands. “I had plenty of help. All I had to do was show up.”
His brow wrinkled skeptically. “I hardly think so. Someone had to be in charge to delegate. The school council is very lucky to have you.”
She wished the bank owner would stop singing her praises. She felt like a fool. A failure. The only reason she’d run for the council position was because Penny wanted her to. Her oldest’s face had lit up like the sun when she came home from school last year. The former teacher, Miss Thomas, had told the children that names were being considered for the coming year’s term. They needed volunteers—new volunteers. Betty Brinkley, who had several grandchildren in the school, had been the chairwoman for the past six years and she was tired.
If Hannah hadn’t asked everyone in town to vote for Brenna, she never would have won. At the time, the position sounded exciting. New. A challenge to be won. And an excellent example to set for her children. Now, she’d gone and forgotten to order one of the most important books for the term. The humiliation of her failure would be devastating, but she could handle it. She’d been taking charity up until last year and she had plenty of practice with unpretentiousness. Penny was the one she worried about, as well as the other children. Even Maddie would hear the talk once everyone found out. Dear God, what would Mr. Hutton think of her then?
“Appears we arrived right on time,” Charlie said. He and Nell rode down Main Street, him on the black and Nell on her chestnut-paint gelding. She carried a crock filled with hard-boiled eggs that she’d made last night. Her long braid hung down her back almost to her belt. They’d successfully brought in the eight head of horses yesterday without too much problem. Seth, completely tired out, opted to stay home.
Nell nodded. “Seems like the open house is just getting started. We’ll ride over by the alders and tie the horses there.”
Anticipation hummed though Charlie, making him sit straight in the saddle regardless of his sore hip and pinched back. Getting the three-year-olds home hadn’t been easy. He’d been bumped and jostled. He’d actually been jerked from the saddle once when he was slow on the dally and Drag Anchor hadn’t obliged to come along nicely. He hadn’t fallen off since he was a kid, and had forgotten how badly it hurt to hit the ground like a sack of corn.
But aching muscles couldn’t dampen his spirits. Today he’d see Maddie. She was certain to be here among all the townspeople.
His eyes searched the grassy hummock for a small girl with nut-colored hair and sparkling blue eyes. But at the same time, he had to be on guard for Grover Galante, or anyone Galante may have sent. It was too soon to think he was out of the woods just yet.
Children darted here and there. A small group milled around the open door to the schoolhouse, but no Maddie. Where is she? His anticipation was replaced by worry. Has something happened to her?
They dismounted, tied their horses and walked over to where folks lined up past a tall tree. They stopped behind the last person.
A train whistle blasted through the air. Everyone swiveled. Nell shaded out the sun with her hand. “Here comes the Union Pacific.”
The shiny black engine rounded the bend a quarter mile away, a plume of smoke billowing from the smokestack. The engineer blew the whistle again and the townspeople cheered, sending the children into a round of excited laughter.
Nell smiled. “The newness hasn’t worn off. I know I’ve enjoyed the convenience. Makes travel easy. I took a trip into Cheyenne last year when all the work was finished.”
“Business?”
“Of a sort. But I had a nice stay over in a hotel for the first time. Especially liked the soaking tub and soft mattress.”
Nell was such an odd mixture. Just when he figured she needed space and privacy, she opened up, sharing some little detail of her life.
The screech of the steel brakes ripped through the air all the way from the depot. Conversations started back up, and the line slowly moved forward.
“What’s this about?” Charlie gestured ahead of them. “Selling some sort of raffle tickets?”
“Yes. A quilt.” She pointed to the side of the school building where the colorful prize was displayed against the wall. “Ten cents a ticket or four for a quarter. The article in the newspaper told all about it.”
Her eyes lovingly adored the quilt, which surprised him. Then she smiled fondly at a group of children that walked by—confirming what Seth had hinted at about her wanting children of her own. She wasn’t one for housekeeping, and she didn’t seem to care much about what she wore—or what she cooked. But she always smelled sweet, like a just-picked bundle of lavender. He took a whiff now, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smile.
“What?”
She’d caught him.
“Nothing. Just wondering what they’ll be serving for supper.” She’s twenty, he reminded himself. Much too young to know about motherly things. Maddie needs to learn about girl stuff, not breaking horses.
“I’ll take two tickets,” the man at the head of the line said.
The large woman directly in front of them stepped forward, then leaned in close to her companion. “It’s such a shame. I wonder how she gets along being blind. Without Markus and Penny, she’d have a hard time finding the paper scraps. I’ve been watching her.”
“Oh, pooh,” her friend uttered. “She’s doing a fine job. I don’t care if the process takes a little longer. What else do we have to do today? I’m happy to see she’s settled in after her odd appearance into town.”
The line moved forward again. “Come along,” the woman said, “we’re next.”
CHAPTER NINE
West Winds of Wyoming Page 6