by J. D. Faver
“I see," Rene said. “We'll figure it out by Sunday.”
“Mommy.” Sara called from behind the hanging blankets.
“That's my daughter,” Rene said. “Come out, Sara and meet our company.” Sara walked across the floor in her stocking feet to climb into Rene's lap and survey the visitor’s from that vantage point.
Star Culver came running over to meet her and waved cheerfully. Sara climbed down and wordlessly the two little girls walked hand-in-hand to the other children.
“She's still sleepy,” Rene said. “Does Star go to school?”
“She hasn't, up to now.”
“Sara's going to be in school because I'll be working so if you want her to get some pre-school just bring her. I don't know the ages of the children yet, but I guess we'll work that out on Monday.”
When the Culvers departed, Rene sat on the sofa with her children. “It seems that the entire population of Sad Horse is happy we're here and they welcome us with food. I'll weigh a ton, but I think I'll enjoy getting that way.” She smiled, remembering how Mark had ridiculed her if she gained an ounce.
She didn’t hear the next vehicle pull into the clearing, but the knock at the door startled her to her feet. She repeated the process of surveying the visitor from the window. A man about her height with thick, dark eyebrows and a misshapen hat jammed down on his head stood drumming a pen against the notepad he clutched.
“I'm Roger Dale, from the Sad Horse Sentinel,” he blurted out as she opened the door a few inches. “I'm here to interview you for the next edition.” He moved forward, as though to enter the cabin.
Rene blocked the door. “We're just going out.”
“This will only take a minute,” he said, patting the camera hanging from his shoulder by a worn leather strap.
“It's not convenient,” she said.
“But, but,” he sputtered. “We have to put the paper to bed tonight. It comes out Saturday morning.”
“Sorry!” Rene shut the door and leaned against it. The pushy little man frightened her. He could be the chink in her very thin armor. She waited until his vehicle started up and pulled out of the clearing to exhale.
Rejoining her children on the sofa, she drew them into her arms. She held them until they were startled from their comfortable nest by the sounds of a commotion at the back door. Ben struggled to unload pieces of wood and tree branches from a wheelbarrow.
“How 'do Miz Reeny?” He waved gleefully. “I did some thinking on the loft, like I told you I would. I’m gonna make it safe for the little ones.”
“What did you come up with, Ben?”
“Well, see'n as how you liked the aspen branches, I thought I'd use them to make a railing. I can space them just right so nobody’ll fall out, but the heat can still get up there.”
“That sounds lovely and a lot safer. Be sure the spaces aren't big enough for Sara to get her head stuck.”
“Why, Ma'am, do you think she'd do something like that?” Ben looked puzzled.
“Ben, children do all the things you don't think they would possibly do.” She smiled at his perplexed expression. “That's why we have to try to protect them from all the possibilities.”
“Yes Ma'am, I'll do my best, but I don't know nothin' about children.”
“I'm sure you'll do a great job.” Rene patted his shoulder in encouragement. He seemed to be extremely embarrassed by this simple act. “I'm sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“That's okay, Miz Reeny.” He put his hand on the shoulder she had touched as though the sensation still lingered. “It's just that I can't rightly recall the last time nobody touched me, ‘specially a lady. I liked it. Really I did.”
“I'm glad, Ben, because so far, you're my first friend here.” Rene's heart warmed at his delighted smile. “A friend should be able to pat another friend on the shoulder. Right?”
“Yes Ma'am, that's a fact.” He ducked his head and continued to unload the wheelbarrow. “I got to bring another load, Miz Reeny. Then I'll get on the railing first thing in the morning.” He started to trundle the empty wheelbarrow down the path when Rene stopped him.
“Can you tell me how to get to the school? I thought we could drive by to see it before supper.”
“Yes Ma'am. Go back like you was goin’ to town, but instead of turning right, you just keep goin' straight on the road to the mine. ‘Bout a half mile past town on the right. Can’t miss it.” He trundled off with a jaunty step.
The children put their jackets on and loaded into the truck, seemingly ready for adventure. The motor started right up and died with a lurch as Rene failed to get it into the correct gear. She drew a deep breath and started it again, this time trying for a smooth choreography of pedals and gears. They crept down the road crunching pine needles beneath the huge tires in second gear. When they reached the main road it died again and Rene had to repeat the process. She managed to get into third on the bumpy, rutted road to town and, following Ben's directions, passed it by. Shortly thereafter, they spotted the very old wooden structure sitting back from the road. Dark red paint contrasted with the green of the trees. An actual bell tower pointed skyward. Rene pulled up in front and turned off the ignition. They stared through the grimy windshield for a moment.
“Shall we go inside?” Rene knew the answer even before the scramble to rid themselves of lap belts began. They approached the front door almost reverently. A small plaque beside the door dedicated the building to the children of Sad Horse and it was dated 1899. Rene touched it gently, causing a few flecks of paint to fall off. She fumbled to put the key into the lock and turned it stiffly.
As the door creaked inward the smell of chalk dust and mustiness assaulted their senses. Rene flipped the light switch, but no light relieved the gloom. Their footsteps sounded unnaturally loud as they walked across the bare wooden floor. A desk and a collection of chairs and tables were stacked in a corner. She tried raising the shade on the closest window but it fell at her feet with a clatter. Some of the shades were operable, but most were totally spent, resting limp at the limit of their extendibility, refusing to rise even one more time. The windowpanes were old, the glass thick and bubbled. A generous coating of grime obscured the fading sunlight.
Chokingly thick dust, raised by Rene's endeavors, caused her to sneeze repeatedly. It coated every surface in abundance.
She felt helpless to alleviate the dank melancholy of the classroom. “What we need is a magic wand.”
“I've got one, Mommy,” Sara called.
Rene turned to find her daughter gleefully dancing around with a long pointer. She waved it imperiously with no results except to stir more dust.
“This one doesn't work, Mommy, but there's another one.” She pointed to a second long piece of wood tipped with discolored brass.
Rene examined it and saw that its hook was used to pull down any one of the large collection of maps mounted over the blackboard. “I think these are fresh out of magic.” She placed it with the pointer in the chalk railing. “Let's go and get some cleaning supplies. Tomorrow we can do some scrubbing when we’re fresher.”
They stopped at the grocery store in town. Rene lifted Sara into one of the three shopping carts. She got a plastic bucket and sponges, glass cleaner and an all-purpose cleaner as well as furniture polish.
“My goodness,” said a pleasant voice behind her. “I would have sworn I cleaned the cabin for you.”
Mrs. Jolly's inquisitive face peered into the cart.
“Not the cabin,” Rene said, still peeved over the way she had grilled the children. “This is for the classroom. It's filthy!”
“Filthy? You don't say?”
Another white haired woman, more slender and with intelligent clear blue eyes approached them. Rene sensed tension between the two ladies.
“Good afternoon, Eugenia.” The woman gave a curt nod to Mrs. Jolly and turned to Rene. “I'm Mrs. Horace Pindar.” She paused. “That's Lottie Ruth Carmichael-Pindar.” S
he stressed the Carmichael slightly. “My dear, departed Horace was the Post Master and I have been thrust into his position. No one else knew what to do and it seemed appropriate that I should carry on in his place. You must be our new teacher.”
When Rene nodded, she went on. “We can't have the children starting back to school in an unclean environment. I'll help you with the cleaning.”
“Thank you,” Rene said. “It's going to be a big job. It doesn't appear to have been cleaned in years and the lights wouldn't come on.”
“Probably a burned out fuse. Pick up a box at Lister's Hardware. You'll need them.”
“Actually,” Mrs. Jolly interjected as soon as Mrs. Pindar stopped speaking, “I was going to volunteer to help you clean.”
“The more the merrier,” Rene said. “I thought I would start tomorrow after breakfast.”
“What's this, a hen party?” Cindy McCorkill came over to the group carrying a shopping basket with several cans of baking powder inside. She smiled her beautiful smile, then called out, “Nadine, come meet the teacher.” Another shopper approached the women.
She, too, had a beautiful smile, which quickly faded. “Oh, honey. What happened to your hair?” She reached up to touch Rene's chopped locks. The woman had brilliant green eyes and tawny coloring. Her hair, a peculiar shade of red, was lustrous and well styled.
“I, uh, I cut it myself.” Rene self-consciously smoothed down the wild spikes.
“You've got to come by the shop and let me shape it. It's such a pretty color, but it looks like you took the hedge shears to it.” She stood back grinning with her hands resting on her hips.
“Thanks, I will,” Rene promised.
“Nadine's got twins,” Cindy supplied helpfully, while massaging the small of her back with her free hand.
“When is your baby due, my dear?” Mrs. Pendar's crisp diction sounded musical.
“I've got a couple of weeks to go,” Cindy said.
“Doesn't look like it." Nadine eyed Cindy's bulging middle. “You could pop that one out any minute.”
“Yes, I know I'm huge. Thank you very much.” Cindy feigned a pout. “I get bigger with each child. Tell me if my shoes match since I can't see them.”
“They match, but your feet look swollen,” Rene said. “You’d better get off them for a while.”
“I can't sit down while I'm baking.”
“Go home.” Nadine took the shopping basket from her. “You can close up early.”
“I guess so.” Cindy looked at Rene's cleaning supplies. “Planning to do some spring cleaning?”
“At the school. Mrs. Jolly did a great job at the cabin.”
The older woman looked gratified at the recognition. “We were going to meet tomorrow to clean the classroom.”
“I can help,” Nadine said. “My little monsters will be doing their best to tear it down soon enough.”
“I'll be there,” Cindy offered but was immediately shouted down. “At least I can dust the erasers.”
“Just come if you feel like it, but not to work.” Rene said.
After the rest of the group departed, Mrs. Pindar stayed behind. “Come by the Post Office, my dear. I’ll set up a box for your mail.”
“I don't expect to be getting much mail,” Rene said.
“You’ll need a box to collect your fair share of junk mail.” Mrs. Pindar's eyes twinkled. “There is no home delivery here. I put up the mail by nine a.m. sharp. That's the way my husband did it and that's the way I do it.”
Rene placed her selections by the cash register and found two middle-aged men waiting for her behind the counter.
“We couldn't help but overhear,” the taller of the two said. “Welcome to Sad Horse. I’m Hank Frasier and this is my brother Bernie. This is our store.”
“I'm happy to meet you both. I'm Rene Nichols. This is Sara and Seth is over there.” She pointed to her son who was inspecting the selection of children’s books.
“My son Logan will be in your class. He's been a little high-strung since my wife passed away but he's a good boy. You let me know if he causes you any trouble.” Hank had a long, sanguine face. He smiled, but his eyes remained sad. He judged him to be in his early forties. He sported a full head of dark hair with only a small white patch at each temple.
“It's his age,” Bernie said. “He's fourteen. The boys he runs around with are wild as young wolves. Logan's a good kid. He'll come around.” Close to his brother in age, Bernie stood shorter and his hairline receded. His face appeared rounder or perhaps he was just heavier. “You're not married?” He posed it as a question.
“Why do you ask?” Rene stiffened slightly.
“Heard it over at the bank. I do think you have a suitor in Clinton Belker.” He grinned widely. “But I'm available too if you'd like a variety. Hank here's in the market for a good woman, although he doesn't know it.”
“Oh, I am not,” Hank protested, but he looked at her hopefully.
“Yes, you are,” Bernie teased him. “You wouldn't be so miserable to live with if you had some female companionship.”
“Look who's talking. When was the last time you had a date?”
Rene paid for her purchases and escaped the flirtatious, bickering brothers.
She drove home and put the leftover casserole in the oven. They finished it off as well as the apple pie, bathed and fell into bed.
An alarm clock. Must get one. She drifted off to sleep.
~*~
Maddy shivered when Ted opened the door of their rented car and offered his hand. Hesitating a moment, she glanced around to where the sinister black car pulled in. No one got out. She felt vulnerable. She wanted to pull Ted back into the shelter of their vehicle. Instead, she smiled and raised her chin.
“Let’s go, girls!” she called out, forcing a note of gaiety into her voice.
Squaring her shoulders as she got out, she flashed Ted a smile.
A worried frown crossed his face. He squinted at her through his sunglasses.
“Ooh, I can smell fresh bread baking,” she said before he could speak. “Let's gobble up our lunch so we can visit the haunted castle.” She hustled the girls inside the old cottage turned tea room, consciously sheltering them with her body.
Inside, she glanced out the window, but the black car gave up no secrets.
“What's up?” Ted whispered as he held her chair.
“I'm not sure. Probably my nerves.”
“The black Peugeot that's been following us?”
“I should have known I couldn't keep anything from you.”
“Not with that face,” he said, taking his own chair.
“It's not my imagination, then?”
“Nope. They're on us, all right.”
“It has to be Mark.” Maddy shuddered as a stocky waitress showed them the hand-written menu.
“Or someone he's hired.”
“I would prefer a hired hand. Mark's a wild card. I'm glad we've bought Rene a little time, but I'm worried about what he might do.”
“He's well known in Houston. I've heard rumors that he’s angling for an appointment to the federal court. He won’t do anything overt that might cause a scandal, at least not on home turf.”
“But we're not at home,” Maddy said.
“No, we're not. As you pointed out last night, we are on our vacation and I refuse to allow that sub-species to mar this time I have with my family.” Ted's usually jovial manner had turned serious.
Maddy reminded herself that the man she thought of as a cuddly teddy bear was a strong, intelligent man who would protect them from all danger. A pang of guilt assailed her as she recalled how she came up with this brilliant plan to rescue Rene from the ogre. She’d spent over a month getting all the details just right. She’d done an on-line search for teaching positions in remote areas. Alaska was the perfect location because it was part of the dear old USA, but in such an unlikely spot for the less than adventurous Rene to aspire to. And she hadn’t needed to use her
passport or any other traceable instrument. She might just as well have gone to Florida or Idaho, only Sad Horse was well beyond Mark’s cruel grasp.
What she hadn’t considered was the possible danger to the other people she loved.
“I'm sorry, dear,” she said, “for getting you and the girls into this.”
“And well you should be.” He reached across to place his hand on hers. “You've forced me to enjoy a well-earned respite from my practice in the company of my lovely wife and daughters. And I am beyond the reach of my answering service, cell phone or pager. How could you do this to me?”
“You make it all sound so simple,” she said.
“It is simple. We're on vacation, period. If we happen to encounter a stray madman we'll deal with him when the time comes. In the meantime, don't carry him around with us. I never liked the man in the first place.” He glanced at the menu. “Are you having the haggis?”
“Under no circumstances! I don't have to eat anything disgusting. I loved the oatmeal we had for breakfast.”
“Don't forget the oaten cakes,” he said. “I put one in my pocket to use as a weapon in case we're mugged.”
“Not funny!” she said.
When they emerged from the tearoom, the black car was gone.
~*~
Rene fell asleep wondering if she would be too tired to get up the next morning, but her eyes opened just as a rosy pink dawn reached tentatively across the sky. Stretching luxuriously, she considered turning over again, but threw back her covering as soon as she remembered all of the tasks before her. She started the coffee maker and heated Danish and biscuits in the oven.
Seth descended the ladder, buttoning his shirt when he reached the bottom. “Smells good, Mom.” He seated himself at the table.
“We have biscuits, too.” Rene took the baking sheet from the oven and arranged the biscuits and pastries on a plate. She set it on the table along with butter and blueberry jam.
“I'll have one,” he said.
“Me, too.” Sara slid out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Rene helped her dress before sitting down to eat.