Tennessee Waltz

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  She leaned her head against the cold glass, her breath frosting the pane. Children who made such a huge effort to get to school in the heavy drifts ought to have a teacher who was committed to giving them the best education she could. Some of those children had probably started out while it was still dark outside in order to be there when the doors opened and classes began.

  Sarah pulled away from the window. "No!" she sternly told herself. "I can't do it. It's out of the question!"

  She strode over to the bureau again and snatched up a handful of wool stockings from the next drawer. Tossing them at the satchel on the bed, she grabbed the rest of the stockings and carried them to the satchel. She shoved everything into another corner, then stared down at the bag, remembering the quick glimpse of the children she'd allowed herself at the school a while ago.

  If she'd stayed any longer, she would have been in tears — both from her anger at Prudence Elliot for ignoring the children and the choking sensation in her throat as she stared at the children's boots lining the cloakroom floor. Some of the boots had twine wrapped around the toes to hold them together. And there didn't appear to be a large enough number of boot pairs there for all the children in the classroom.

  The older children were in the last row, and she could smell that they needed a bath. She supposed it was hard to heat water to bathe in the wintertime up here. The girl who sat beside Carrie would have had a beautiful head of blue-black hair — had it been clean.

  On her way back out the door, she'd noticed the ragged jackets and coats hanging on the hooks above the tattered boots. Now she sat down on the bed, leaning her face in her hands.

  "Damn that Prudence Elliot!" She jerked her head up, surprised at the curse word. Ladies never, never cursed. That had been drilled into her as soon as she understood what exactly a manner was.

  "Damn her!" she repeated in a louder voice, this time nodding her head in pleasure at the sound of the curse word and continuing to the room at large, "How on earth could she sit there and harden her heart against that bunch of children, who were crying out to learn what she could teach them?"

  She jumped to her feet and began pacing the room, waving her hands around in a very satisfying accompaniment to her anger and wishing Prudence Elliot were in the room to hear her.

  "An education can make a huge difference in those children's lives! It can open the entire world to them. It can give them the choice of whether they will be happy staying in the mountains or whether they could manage in the rest of the world if they chose that! And that Elliot woman has their future right in her hands and she's been wasting it!"

  With urgent movements, Sarah went to the closet and pulled out her dresses. Without worrying about creases, she shoved them into the portmanteau beside her satchel. She had a time getting both pieces of luggage latched, but finally she managed it. Then she began dragging them both toward the door.

  "I'm going to find someone to come here and finish out the school term," she told herself sternly as she pulled the bags toward the top of the stairs. "No one in Sawback Mountain needs to know that I'll also be giving the teacher double her salary here myself, so those children can get an education."

  She managed to get her luggage out onto the boardinghouse porch before her strength gave out. Then, as Leery predicted, she saw Jeeter's wagon coming up the trail. Leery had said that she and Jeeter would visit for a while before he started back down to Razor Gully, and for sure Jeeter would want to see Baby Sarah. Sarah left her bags on the porch and went to find Mandy to say good-bye.

  ~~~~

  A little over an hour later, Wyn carried Prudence Elliot's bags out and loaded them beside Sarah's in the back of Jeeter's wagon. Sarah had already said good-bye to her namesake and Sissy, and now she started around the gathering of MacIntyres, hugging them one by one, her eyes tearing more and more after each hug, and especially when she held Mairi. Mairi, however, didn't tear up so much as pay extremely close attention to her, once in a while glancing at Wyn, also.

  After she got her most vigorous hugs from the twins, one in each arm, she waved at Mandy, Dan and the old mountain woman, Leery, on the porch. Leery was engaged in a final conversation with her son, Jeeter, and she supposed Jeeter would be there in a minute to drive the wagon down the mountain. Sarah turned away. She could say good-bye to Wyn when he assisted her into the wagon.

  When Prudence Elliot walked out of the schoolhouse and headed for the wagon, Sarah paused and waited for the woman. She gasped at Prudence's rudeness when the former schoolteacher completely ignored the gathering of MacIntyres and climbed onto the seat. Instead of telling anyone good-bye, Prudence stared straight ahead, her back rigid.

  "Bye, Miss Elliot," the twins called.

  "Harrumph!" Prudence responded.

  Both Luke and Jute looked up at Sarah in bewilderment, and a tear formed in the corner of Jute's eye.

  "What'd we do to her, Miss Sarah?" he asked with a tremulous sniff.

  "You did absolutely nothing, Jute," Sarah assured him in a controlled voice, holding her fury in check. "You did nothing other than be the wonderful little boy you are."

  Then she turned from him so he couldn't see her face, dropping her hold on her anger. But from his position, she realized Wyn could see her, and he took a surprised step back. She didn't pause to explain herself to him, knowing he would find out in an instant what she was so furious about.

  Stomping over to the side of the wagon, she glared up at Prudence, wishing it were true that a person's eyes could shoot sparks when she was angry, instead of it being just something she'd read in a book once. She'd singe that woman's cloak if she could!

  "You witch!" she spat viciously, In deference to the little pitchers with big ears within hearing distance, she barely refrained from making the word a more vicious one.

  Prudence swiveled to face her, and her mouth dropped. "Why . . . why . . . you . . ." she sputtered.

  Sarah plopped her hands on her hips. "You have absolutely no business around children, and I'm going to see that you never hold another teaching position in your life! So you better look for something else to do after you leave here!"

  "How dare you?" Prudence huffed, although Sarah could see the fear in her eyes. She knew Sarah wasn't bluffing and that she could follow through on her threat. No, her promise.

  "How long have you been here?" Sarah demanded.

  Evidently, Prudence didn't feel that offering any defense would make Sarah change her mind, since she faced to the front again and remained silent. Wyn stepped up beside Sarah.

  "She's been here since last fall — a little over five months."

  "Thank you," Sarah said, keeping her glare fixed on Prudence. "That means she's wasted five months of these children's lives. And she's been drawing a salary from these people and not doing her job!"

  "Well," Wyn said in a musing voice. "Pa said they were learning a little bit."

  "Pa said?!" Sarah whirled on him. "Your own brothers and sisters were wasting time at that school. Did you ever stir yourself to find out whether or not they were being taught properly? Did you care about what was happening to your brothers and sisters?"

  First anger flashed in Wyn's face, then resentment. He abruptly turned away and left her. Shame immediately filled her, since she'd seen Wyn's love for the children right from the first moment they arrived and Mairi threw herself into Wyn's arms. Torn between going after him and apologizing for her cruel taunts and continuing her lambasting of Prudence Elliot, she heard Prudence give a sniff behind her.

  "There's no sense even trying to teach these people," Prudence said when Sarah faced her again. "They always come back here and squander their lives." She nodded in the direction Wyn had taken. "He had a chance. He did a favor for Senator Collingsworth and got offered a job in Washington, D.C., as the Senator's aid! He even was betrothed to the senator's daughter, Rose. Do you think he took advantage of the opportunity? No, he gave up everything and came running back to these Godforsaken mountains."
>
  The news that Wyn had once been betrothed — and to a senator's daughter — pricked Sarah's anger. It leaked out of her like air from a balloon, leaving her deflated. For one thing, she knew Rose Collingsworth. Father had many times hosted important government officials at his parties, courting their favor to amass an even larger fortune.

  Just this past year, Rose had been in New York City over the Christmas Season. Tiny, brunette and with vivid blue eyes, she had made Sarah feel as awkward as the giraffe she'd seen at Washington, D.C.'s National Zoological Park the previous year, when her father had been invited to tour the soon-to-be-open park. Rose had clung to the arm of her new husband, Petula Hardesty's brother, the heir to the Hardesty fortune.

  Jeeter walked up and held out his hand to Sarah. "Gots to get goin', Miss Channer. Don't wants to get caught on the road too late. I'll be helping you up now."

  With a defeated sigh, Sarah took Jeeter's hand. One of a string of tutors had long ago helped her master smoothly climbing in and out of buggies, and wagons weren't that different. But she didn't want to hurt the little man's feelings by ignoring his assistance. Prudence scooted over on the seat to give her some room, and Sarah settled on the space left for her.

  Tears misting her eyes, she swiveled to get one last look at the family that had come to mean so much to her in the short time she'd been in the mountains.

  Having decided she could both help her sister Sissy and get experience for when she had her own babies, Carrie held Bobbie in her arms. Cuddling the toddler's cheek against her own, Carrie picked up Bobbie's arm and helped him wave at Sarah. Pris and Mairi stood beside Carrie, arms around each other's waists. Mairi glanced over her shoulder at the porch, a somewhat questioning look on her face, and Sarah looked up in time to see the old mountain woman give Mairi a nod. Mairi gazed back at Sarah and smiled, lifting a hand to wave.

  "Bye, Miss Sarah!" Luke and Jute shouted, then turned and raced away. They'd been begging to go sledding ever since they got out of school, so Sarah assumed they were heading for their sleds.

  She looked at the porch again, and received a lift of an arm from Mandy and Leery. Dan took his pipe out of his mouth, but Sarah lost her bid for control of her point of vision before Dan said anything. Her eyes slid from Dan to follow the direction Wyn had taken. She saw him headed back toward her, an unreadable expression on his face.

  He came on over to the wagon. "Didn't want you to leave with us having harsh words between us," he said. "I thank you for what you did for Mairi and for your help with the birthing and all."

  Too choked to speak, Sarah could only nod at him. The wagon swayed, and Jeeter climbed into the seat on the other side of Prudence. Sarah heard the brake squeal when Jeeter released it and closed her eyes, waiting for the wagon to jerk into movement.

  "Sarah!" Dan called.

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Dan.

  "You change your mind, you just let me know," he said. "I doubt anybody else will bite on the offer of only a few weeks worth of work here in Sawback Mountain. Nobody worth nothin', that is."

  Prudence shifted on the seat and gave a smothered harrumph. "A fool's born every moment," she muttered. "But I'm through being a fool."

  Sarah gritted her teeth and stared ahead of her. Jeeter picked up the reins and flapped them over his mules' backs.

  "Hie on thar!" he shouted. "You lazy critters get a movin' now! We got miles to go!"

  "Stop!" Sarah reached across Prudence and grabbed the reins. Jeeter leaned forward so he could see her, and Sarah repeated her command more softly.

  "Stop. I'm not going this time."

  A crooked grin split Jeeter's mouth, and he muttered, "Didn't think so. But Ma said you had to choose yerself."

  Rather than anger her, the twinkle in Jeeter's eyes warmed Sarah's heart. She winked at the little man, then said, "I'll have a couple letters for you to send out for me on your next trip. Do you know when it will be?"

  "Oh, probably 'bout a week," he replied. "Need some he'p a gettin' down?"

  "I'm fine," Sarah said with a huge smile. "Finer than I've been in a long while."

  She turned and started to climb from the wagon, but froze in the face of Wyn's stern gaze.

  "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

  "I'm applying for a job as schoolteacher," she said, tilting her nose up at him. "I would appreciate it if you'd remove yourself from my pathway, so I can go speak to your father about it."

  "Look, Sarah, you don't have to feel guilty. We'll take care of the children's educations."

  "Guilty? Wyn MacIntyre, guilt has absolutely not been one of the feelings I've been having since I arrived here. I've had more soul satisfaction in the past few days than I've had in my entire life!"

  "What about your fiancé?" Wyn said, seeming to cover up a sneer.

  Sarah shrugged, then opened her reticule on her arm, pulled out a pencil and tore off a piece of paper from the notepad every lady carried. She scribbled a few words and handed the paper across Prudence to Jeeter, following it with a coin she dug from her reticule.

  "Please ask the telegraph operator in Razor Gully to send that wire to my attorney," she said. "His name is there. He'll notify everyone who needs to know that I've been delayed, so they won't worry about me."

  "Mr. Charles Caruthers," Jeeter said, surprising Sarah when he read the words. He gave her a wink similar to the one she'd given him. "Been a readin' for years. How'd 'cha think I'd know who to deliver the mail to?"

  Sarah shook her head in admonishment at herself for her erroneous assumption about the little man. "Thank you for taking care of the wire for me," she said.

  Then, ignoring Wyn's glare, she climbed down from the wagon without his assistance. As she walked to the rear of it, the wagon swayed again as Jeeter clambered over the seat into the bed. Picking up her satchel and portmanteau, he dropped them over the side. After a sly grin and a brief glance at the porch where Leery stood, he took his seat again and "hied" the mules once more.

  Giggling conspiratorially, Mairi and Pris rushed forward, each of them trying to take the luggage from Sarah.

  "We'll take them back over to Miz Tuttle's for you," Mairi insisted.

  "It's too heavy for you," Sarah said.

  Wyn stepped forward. "If you're taking the schoolteacher job, you'll be staying in the cabin behind the schoolhouse. It's part of the salary." He picked up the bags, one in each hand, and carried them over to the porch. "Pa?"

  "Reckon you might's well take 'em to the cabin, son. Me and Sarah will have us a talk, then you can show her 'round the schoolhouse and . . ."

  "Me?" Wyn broke in. "I'm not part of your school board!"

  Sarah moved a step closer, carefully watching Dan's face. He rolled his eyes heavenward, and she saw Wyn's face tighten in reaction to his pa's annoyance.

  "I s'pose I could ask you to push me over there in my chair so's I could show Sarah where everythin' is," Dan said. "If that's the way you want it. But the snow's still sorta deep for that, even on the pathway."

  "Hell, it'll be easier for me to show her myself," Wyn said with a grunt. Hoisting the satchel to one shoulder and adjusting his grip on her portmanteau, he stomped away.

  Chapter 7

  The first week flew by so quickly, it was the day before Jeeter was due again before Sarah knew it. The weather continued to warm up, the snow melting and disappearing. This afternoon she'd even opened the windows on the schoolhouse and slipped over to her tiny cabin to do the same there. The mountain breeze would cool things off soon, but when she'd dismissed the children a minute ago, it was still a beautiful day.

  The other mountain children ran for their mules to go home, while Carrie, Pris and Mairi headed over to their own house to do homework and help Sissy. Their older sister had finally left her bed the day before, insisting she would prepare her family's meals herself from now on. And Sissy was terribly anxious for Jeeter to come back, since she fully expected her husband, Robert, to be with him, as Leery
had predicted.

  The twins had taken to hanging around with Sarah after school, and with Dan's permission, she often helped them with their homework over at her own cabin. Today they were sweeping the school room, cleaning the blackboard and tidying up before they went to her cabin.

  Standing at the door and watching the children scatter, Sarah allowed herself a few minutes of reflection while Jute and Luke worked. It had been amazingly easy for her to figure out how to do her job. She hadn't attended public schools herself, but it made sense that since she was the lone teacher in a roomful of different aged children, she had to set up different teaching levels. Then she needed to keep each group occupied somehow while her attention was on another one.

  Lesson plans done the previous evening took care of that, and she'd even begun allowing Carrie and her friend, Patty, to help with some of the younger children. It had amazed her how much pride Carrie and Patty took in their own knowledge when they had a chance to pass it on to others.

  She shook her head in disgust. Prudence Elliot didn't have any idea how much self satisfaction she was missing out on by not doing her job properly with these children. The wide-eyed awe when a child managed to read an entire sentence in a book — and understand the meaning of the sentence — tugged at Sarah's heart. Just today, Jute had looked up at her, red hair flopping over his forehead and his eyes wide with delight.

  "Now I know what the word twin looks like. Al'ys knowed that's what me and Luke was, but now I can write it down if I want to."

  Those two little boys were becoming awfully dear to her heart — almost as dear as Mairi. And not once had they pulled a trick on her this past week. They'd been too busy devouring their readers and writing on their slates.

  Suddenly she shook her head in disgust. She wasn't standing there watching the children scatter and head home. They were all out of sight, except for the last mule carrying Patty and her young sister, Edwina, which was disappearing around the bend in the mountain trail. She was watching for a blond head and broad shoulders.