by DiAnn Mills
She rubbed her temples. Indeed, someone needed to protect those children. Why did the twins call Zack by his first name? What had happened to their mother? If he had adopted them, why didn’t they call him Dad or Papa? For that matter, was Zack Kahler a saint, or did the children need to be rescued?
Chloe shook her head and loaded the children’s plates with the scrambled eggs seasoned only with salt and pepper. There must be a reasonable explanation for all of this. For the children’s sake, she had to find the answers. None of this had anything to do with her past feelings for Zack. It had everything to do with how she’d grown up without the basic needs of life. Children needed love and care, plenty of good food, and clothing. Anything less wasn’t fair.
*****
Zack didn’t have time to contemplate Chloe’s sudden coldness to him, but he’d come to realize that was the way of women—especially single ones. Now, if he could find a woman who was more settled in her ways like his mama, then he might have found a jewel. Shaking his head, he cast aside his thoughts. Mama had her moments, too. Right now, he had a list a mile long for the day, and his first chore was to stop by the schoolhouse. Hopefully Miss Scott had forgotten all the trouble he used to get into before Brother Whitworth became his dad.
With his hand firmly clasped around each twin’s hand, Zack made his way through town toward the schoolhouse. Folks stopped to admire his little imps with oohs and aahs. One woman who had taught him in Sunday school asked if they were his children.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m in the process of adopting them.”
Her eyes sparkled beneath a layer of wrinkled years of wisdom. “Oh, my dear boy, you are in for an adventure.”
He had been down a few of those paths already.
Zack and the twins continued to make their way through town. Storefronts had taken on a fresh coat of paint, and the new businesses pleased him. He saw two general stores—the larger one had been in the Kahler family for years—a dentist office, a post office, and a millinery. At dinner last night, Mama had said the town’s dressmaker had plans to build her own shop and that the cotton gin outside of town had expanded. Progress.
“Got a Methodist and a Lutheran church here now, too,” Dad had said. “The German folk don’t have to ride so far for services now.”
Zack imagined the town dressed up for Christmas. That was one part of New York that he’d miss. The magnificence of the decorated tree in Central Park, the greenery woven around streetlights, and the dressed windows of the businesses put everyone in a festive mood. But as he caught sight of the town’s square, he realized decorating the tree there would have more meaning with his children.
“What are they doing?” Curly pointed to a building project on the town square.
Zack stopped to observe men laying brick. “Why, that must be the new courthouse. Kahlerville has been named the county seat.” More progress. More people. And more people reading newspapers.
“What’s that mean?” Charlie said.
“It means that the people who are in charge of running the government around here will work in that building.”
He could tell she didn’t understand, but he hadn’t much practice in explaining things to children.
Walking toward the school, Zack pointed out a few of the familiar sights. “Across from the school is the church where I grew up.”
“You mean you lived inside the church with the sisters and the priest?” Curly said. “I thought you had a mama and papa.”
Zack laughed at the serious look on the little boy’s face. “I meant that is where I attended church while I was growing up. A lot of memories there. Good ones.” Someday when the twins were older, he’d tell them about his difficulty handling life after his father died. Some of which they’d understand now. “When my father died, I was sad and got into trouble.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Like us?”
Zack nodded. “Your grandpa decided to help me and then married your grandma.”
“Like you took us?”
“I guess so.” Zack chuckled.
“Did the priest and the sisters at your church tell him to do that?” Curly said.
“We don’t have a priest and sisters at our church.”
Charlie tugged on his hand. “How can you have a church without ’em?”
“Different people have different ways to worship God. Your grandpa is the preacher at this church.” He smiled into her confused face. “You’ll see for yourself next Sunday.”
The church sat back off the road directly ahead. Beside it was the old parsonage where his grandparents had lived and served the community for years. They’d been laid to rest in the Piney Woods Cemetery behind the church a long time ago. He looked forward to next Sunday when he could walk through the memories that helped form him into a man.
Zack drew in a deep breath. Perhaps he should have arranged a meeting with Miss Scott before the other students arrived. He glanced up at a huge oak tree where he’d once stolen the clothes from Miss Scott’s line and hung them on the branches. Unfortunately, his dad—actually this was before the man had proposed to Mama—had figured it out and made him retrieve the clothes and apologize to his teacher. Zack laughed just thinking about it. He’d never forget Miss Scott’s bloomers waving in the breeze. Now, here he was bringing his own double-trouble to the town’s teacher.
He stopped in the middle of the road. “I went to school here. Miss Scott’s a fine teacher.”
The twins said nothing.
“Are you scared?”
“A little,” Charlie said. “Can’t we just stay with you?”
Zack bent down and pulled the two children to the front of him. “No one is going to hurt you. You’ll make good friends that will last until you are very old. Miss Scott will make you behave, but she’ll also love you and teach you the things you should know. Aunt Lydia Anne and Uncle Stuart attend here, too.”
“But we can’t read or do numbers,” Charlie said. “We didn’t go to school much in New York.”
“That’s what Miss Scott is for. But you won’t stay here today. Tomorrow we’ll start school. Remember, today we’re going out to the ranch after lunch.”
The two nodded. Charlie blinked back a tear, but Curly looked just plain defiant. That sent a whirling sensation to the pit of Zack’s stomach. He started to make a comment about what he expected from them at school, but that lecture could wait until tomorrow.
“Let’s get going. We have much to do today.”
Opening up the schoolhouse door brought a flood of more memories—good and bad. He thought about little Chloe Weaver. She wasn’t so little anymore. She used to sit in the back of the room away from the other children. He’d sat in the back, too, on the other side of the room, partly out of orneriness and partly as a self-made guardian for Chloe. He hoped someone would take on that role for his twins. From the looks of her all grown up, she still needed someone protecting her.
Miss Scott started at the sight of him. “Why, Zack Kahler. I heard you were coming back to town. What a fine way to start a morning. I’ll be right with you.”
She issued a few instructions to the students and joined him in the back of the room, her skirts bustling as she went. He well remembered that sound, especially if she was after him. Good thing he had mended his ways when he acknowledged Jesus as Lord.
A fire had been built in the stove near the front, no doubt to take the chill out of the air. The scent of wood warmed him more than the heat the fire provided. Miss Scott had a large class. Looked like she could use a little help, but then, he well recalled how she kept a classroom in order.
“And who are these beautiful children?” she said. “I heard you returned from New York with a delightful set of twins.”
“News travels fast. They are mine. I’m in the process of adopting them. Charlie, Curly, this is Miss Scott. She will be your new teacher.”
Charlie turned her little face bathed in freckles up toward him. “Where is her long black dress?”
>
“Miss Scott is not a sister. We don’t have those ladies in this school.” He offered Miss Scott a smile. “They were previously taught by Catholic sisters.”
“How much schooling have they had?”
Zack dragged his tongue over his lips. He stared down at the two. “How long have you been going to school?”
Curly shook his head. “Usually we just sneaked off to sell newspapers.”
Zack thought he’d sink right through the floor. “Miss Scott, these children lived in an orphanage in New York. Life was hard, and—”
“Never you mind, Zack. We’ll do just fine.” She smiled wide, her round face a picture of caring and concern.
He wanted to hug her. “Thank you. I’d like to start them tomorrow. This is their first day in Kahlerville, and I’d like to get them a little more settled.”
“Excellent idea. I’ll be looking for them in the morning. Don’t forget to bring lunches. And I’ll need for you to provide me with their full names and birthdays.” Miss Scott placed her hands on her ample hips. “I suggest you have your Uncle Grant take a look at them to make sure they’re healthy.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “I will.” He grasped Charlie and Curly’s hands. “Have a good morning.” He gazed down at the twins. “What are you supposed to say?”
“Have a good morning,” they chorused.
Once outside, Zack complimented the twins on their good behavior. He focused his attention on the newspaper office—feeling like a boy again heading for penny candy. The town’s paper had gone through a few owners, but he had visions of a daily paper that incorporated news from the neighboring communities and essentially brought the folks together.
They stepped inside, and he cautioned the children not to bother anything until he was finished, especially if they were looking forward to fun at the ranch. Maybe his bribery approach wasn’t the best, but how else could he manage them? The familiar smells of paper and ink were better than a quilt on a cold night.
“Mornin’, Zack,” Hank called out. “I heard you got back to town.”
“Yes sir. Last evening’s train. I sure am glad you decided to stay on and help me with the paper. I appreciate your talking Gilbert into staying, too. I really need a master printer and journeyman, and you two are the best. Thanks for persuading the fellas to stay in the back to set type. Without everyone here, the paper will not fulfill the vision we’ve talked about.” He took in the familiar sights of the press and the typesetter. The Frontier Press was peanuts next to the size of the New York Times, but this paper was his. And the ownership made him feel powerfully good.
“Helpin’ you will be a whole lot easier than trying to run it all myself. Gil is a smart man, and he’s learning real fast. When there are edits to do, he has a good eye for catching mistakes. We need a couple of reporters, but that will come.”
A small desk cluttered with papers sat at an angle in the corner of the room. A typewriter rose from the middle of the disarray like a chimney soaring above a roaring fire—a fire of news. Life. Truth. Homespun and worldwide. Yes, he was home. The smells, the sound of the typesetter, and the taste of excitement in the air were in his blood. He wanted so much for this paper to bless and inform the people of Kahlerville, and he hoped his ideas would soon take form. Not today, but tomorrow he’d tell Hank that the Frontier Press would soon become a daily paper, an evening edition. Before the twins, he’d wanted to print a morning paper, but he couldn’t leave his children until eleven at night. Press time at noon made more sense.
Electricity was now a luxury. He’d gotten spoiled with it at the Times, but new advances would come to Kahlerville in due time—as well as a printing press that ran the pages instead of requiring the lengthy process of doing it by hand.
“Zack, you’re grinning like the mouse that ate the cat.” Hank laughed.
“I feel like Christmas came early.” He felt a tug on his coattail.
“Mr. Zack, where’s the newsboys?” Curly said. “I ain’t seen anyone sellin’ papers.”
“The proper word is ‘I haven’t seen anyone.’ We don’t sell papers here like in New York. Some folks come into the office to buy them. We also have a stack at the general store and the boardinghouse. Hank and I will deliver newspapers to folks who live on farms and ranches, and a young man here in town takes them to the people of Kahlerville. We mail some of them too.”
The little boy shook his head. “Sure is strange. No sisters or priests and no newsboys. Makes me wonder what a body is supposed to do to earn a livin’.”
Hank laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. He lifted his hat from his bald head and laughed some more. “The city has just met the country.”
Zack worked with Hank and discussed the paper until the twins could not handle another moment of behaving themselves.
“You hit me one more time, and I’m going to black your eyes and break your arm.”
Zack whirled around to see Charlie with her little arm drawn back. Curly lay sprawled on the wooden floor, and she sat atop him.
“Is that any way for you to treat your brother?”
She lifted her chin. “He said girls can’t fight as good as boys.”
“You’ve already proven him wrong. Get off of him, and we’ll leave here in just a minute.”
Hank muffled another laugh. Zack turned and grinned. “I know I tried my mother’s patience, but these two will make an old man out of me.”
“You need a woman.”
Zack blew out an exasperated sigh. “My luck with the female gender has had its share of problems.”
“You need a Texas girl to treat you right. Me and my missus have been married for forty years, ever since she was sixteen and I was eighteen. Love will come courtin’ you, son. I can feel it in my bones.”
*****
Chloe had chores well under control. One boarder had checked out and another had arrived. All the rooms were in order, and the scent of pork roast and creamed corn swirled through the air. Never had she eaten so well. As the boarders drifted into the dining room along with other townspeople who enjoyed Simeon’s good cooking, she found herself watching for Zack and the twins.
While balancing three plates of food from the kitchen to a table, she saw Zack and the children enter the dining room and take a small table in the corner. Her heart betrayed her, for it raced at the sight of him. No, it must be impossible. Her concern was for the welfare of Curly and Charlie. A few moments later, she made her way to the trio.
“Did you have a good morning?” she said.
Zack leaned back in his chair. His city-bought suit gave him a dashing look. “We’ve been to school and visited with Miss Scott,” he said. “And we’ve been to the newspaper office.”
She hastily tore her gaze from him to the children. “Busy morning for you little ones.”
“We’re going to a ranch after we eat,” Curly said.
“That sounds like tremendous fun to me.”
The little boy nodded. “We’re going to see horses, cows, chickens—and animals.”
“And family,” Charlie said with a nod.
Chloe swung a quick glance at Zack. The compassion on his face moved her to rethink her earlier opinion of him.
“Every person who is my family is now yours,” he said.
Chloe swallowed the emotion rising in her throat. “I’ll hurry with your lunches so you won’t miss a moment at the ranch.”
“Perfect.” Zack stared up into her face. “We won’t be here for dinner. I imagine my mother will have more food than we know what to do with. Could I ask you for a favor?”
She nodded. Did he really need to ask?
“In the course of folks coming and going, if you hear of anyone having a house to rent or buy, would you let me know?”
“I’d be glad to.” She excused herself to fetch their lunch and nearly ran into Mr. Barton.
“You’re a busy lady.” He stood with his hands behind his back.
“Yes, sir. Simeon is suc
h a good cook, and everyone in town wants to eat here.”
“You’re doing an excellent job. In fact”—he held out a bouquet of fresh mums in vibrant fall shades of gold and orange—“I thought you might like these.”
How sweet of him. She took the flowers tied with a purple ribbon. No one had ever given her flowers before. “Thank you.” She inhaled the bouquet, and all the frustration she’d felt about his test vanished. “This was very kind of you.”
“It’s sort of a peace offering for keeping you up late the other night. Somehow the peppermint stick didn’t quite convey my apologies.”
She laughed lightly. “I accept.” Glancing about at the busy room, she thought better of lingering. “I’ll set these in the kitchen until things settle down. They are lovely.”
His face reddened. Simeon’s words of his interest leaped across her mind. She took quick steps to the kitchen but swung a look at Zack. He was watching her, as though he’d seen the flower presentation.
Strange. How very strange, for she couldn’t read the blank look on his face. Did he think Mr. Barton giving her flowers wasn’t proper? A delightful notion filled her brain. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Zack were just a little jealous?
Chapter 7
“Until Stuart returns from school, I want you to play close to the house.” Zack pasted on his best stern look. “I’m sitting inside by the window where I can watch you.” Since he’d never tried conducting himself like a father before, he didn’t know if the twins took him seriously.
“Yes sir.” Curly grinned. In the sunlight, his freckles popped out like little peach dots.
“And you, Miss Charlie?”
“Yes sir.” She had discovered a mama cat with kittens and appeared to be totally enamored.
Zack stepped inside the two-story white home with its many chimneys, angled roofs, and winding porches. This was still home no matter where he lived. Mama had always made sure the house looked as though a dozen servants crept about at night. The wooden floors caught the glimmer from the afternoon sun, and the drapes were spread wide to let in every bit of the outside. She loved the kitchen and helping Juanita with the huge meals for all the ranch hands. Sometimes a couple of the hands rode their horses right up to the kitchen window, where Mama would hand them leftover biscuits with sausage patties tucked inside. Dad had helped her run the ranch since the day they were married, and she had helped him edit his sermons. They were a good match. Maybe someday Zack might find the perfect woman.