by Anna Schmidt
“Mr. Baxter, come forward and solve the first problem,” she said, having decided to make no further reference to the previous incident.
He glared at her again, then pushed himself away from the table, strode toward her, snatched the chalk, and within less than a minute had correctly solved not just the first, but all four problems. He worked so quickly that the chalk broke into halves. He dropped the pieces in the tray, dusted his hands on his trousers, and sat back down. “Do I get my reward? Oh, wait, I didn’t really do anything but solve a problem, did I?”
Things continued to go downhill from there. By the time noon came, Amanda was exhausted and nearly out of ideas for how she might connect with the children so she could actually teach them something. Her thought had been to use this first day to establish how well each of them could read, spell, and solve simple problems in arithmetic. That way she could plan lessons suited to their level. But she had allowed them to distract her from her purpose, and now she felt totally adrift.
Eli Baxter did not return after she accepted the children’s insistence that they be permitted to eat their lunches outside when the weather was nice. Once they were settled on the front porch, Eli asked permission to use the privy, and that was the last Amanda saw of him. Ellie trudged back into the library, but spent the entire afternoon staring out the window, and there seemed to be nothing that Amanda could do to engage her.
Late in the afternoon, Amanda wrote two additional homework assignments on the board. She completed a brief report of the day for Mr. Baxter—omitting the fact that Eli had not returned after lunch—and left the appropriate books and papers the twins would need to complete their homework. She said good-bye to Ellie, who did not respond, and then slipped out the front door.
What had she been thinking to take this job? She was not qualified. She was intelligent and educated, but she clearly had no skills for teaching. Her only possible connection with the children was that she, like them, had suffered the unexpected death of a parent. She understood grief, but was that enough to form a bond? And what if she admitted defeat? That meant going back to the ranch and surrendering her newfound independence.
She squared her shoulders and greeted those she passed on her way back to the boardinghouse. She would make this work. There was too much at stake for her—and the Baxter children—to give up so easily.
Four
Seth was bone-tired and frustrated. After nearly a week in Tucson, he was no closer to finding the Stock brothers or their gang.
“You got a letter,” Miss Dooley announced as he started up the stairs to wash before supper. “Hand-delivered it was, although Bessie says she never saw who brought it. Just found it lying on the floor near the front door.”
“Thank you.” Seth took the envelope and put it in his pocket. He could see disappointment in Miss Dooley’s eyes. Clearly she had hoped he would open the letter, and perhaps even say who had written it. For his part, he wondered who would write him here—who knew he was staying at the boardinghouse beyond his superiors at Wells Fargo?
“You’ll be in for supper?” Miss Dooley asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He sniffed the air. “Smells like Bessie’s got something going already.”
“Stew takes time if you don’t want the beef to be tougher than shoe leather.”
“Well, I’ll look forward to it,” he said as he once again started up the stairs.
“Miss Porterfield’s not in,” Miss Dooley said, and he realized she was watching him carefully.
“Should she be?” he asked. “Are you worried?”
“No. I thought maybe…”
“Miss Dooley, there is nothing between Miss Porterfield and me other than a normal friendly relationship—the same that I share with you and everyone else in the house.”
“She’s awfully pretty.”
“That she is. But then, so is Miss Jensen. And for that matter, you aren’t bad-looking yourself,” he added with a rakish grin that had the desired effect. Miss Dooley blushed scarlet, giggled, and waved a dismissive hand as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen.
Relieved that he had put her worries to rest, Seth closed the door to his room and took out the letter. Other than his name and the address of the boardinghouse, there was nothing else on the envelope. The information was printed in the kind of block letters he had learned in school, and that made him wonder if the sender might be someone young.
He slid his thumbnail under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of cheap notepaper. The words were written in pencil, and he moved closer to the window for better light. The entire message was three words.
Old Frost Ranch
Other than a smudged, dirty fingerprint on a corner of the paper, there was nothing else.
He’d ridden out to that abandoned property just a day earlier and seen nothing. He’d poked around the dilapidated outbuildings, even gone inside the shack that had once served as housing for the rancher and his family. The area was studded with small ranches like the Frost place. In most cases, the families had given up and moved on—either back to where they came from or farther west. The buildings they’d put up were left to the harsh sun and bitter winters. Seth had seen not one piece of evidence that anyone had visited the property in months, if not years.
It could be a trap—somebody trying to lure him out there. It would be the perfect place for an ambush. But that would mean someone had discovered his true identity. On the other hand, it could also be Sam—reaching out for help because he’d gotten in over his head.
He struck a match on the hearth in his room and set fire to the letter, watching it burn down until it nearly reached his fingertips before dropping it in the fireplace, the three words turning to ash.
He heard the soft click of the lock across the hall and knew that Amanda had returned. He wondered how her time with the Baxter twins was progressing. He’d had little chance to speak with her, and she seemed surprisingly reticent to talk about her work when the boarders gathered for meals. He wondered if the warning he’d given her about the boy had been necessary. He wondered how he might have a chance to talk to her without incurring the wrath of Miss Dooley or the curiosity of the other boarders. He wondered if he was losing his mind even thinking of furthering a relationship with this woman—a relationship he already imagined going far beyond simple friendship.
* * *
All in all, Amanda’s first few days with Eli and Ellie had been a disaster. Eli had continued to test her, mumbling answers, deliberately erasing work she had posted on the chalkboard and pretending to be sorry. Ellie had smothered her giggles at her brother’s antics and retreated into sullen silence when Amanda called on her to read aloud or solve a problem.
Today, when Amanda reached her room at the top of the stairs, she had set her satchel on the floor and kicked off her shoes. As she sat on the side of the bed rubbing her tired feet, something long and black slithered from her bag. She let out a yelp and drew herself fully onto the bed.
“You okay, Miss Porterfield?” Ollie knocked at her door and pushed it open.
Amanda pointed, and Ollie chuckled. “The Baxter boy up to his old tricks again, is he?” He used a coat hanger to scoop up the snake, walked to the open window, and hurled it out. “Harmless,” he said.
“Thank you,” Amanda managed. “Harmless or not, I am not interested in sharing my room with the thing.”
Ollie headed for the door. “Don’t let that boy know he’s gotten to you, Miss.”
“Good advice. Thank you again.”
At supper she ate in silence and excused herself before dessert was served, citing the need to prepare lessons. She was well aware of the worried look Seth gave her as she passed his chair on her way out of the dining room. Briefly, she considered working in the parlor in the hopes he might come in, and they could talk. But in the end, she recognized the need to focus on
making a success of her job and was relieved when she heard Seth leave the house shortly after dinner. She heard him talking and laughing with Ollie as the two men walked down the street and knew it was unlikely he would be back soon.
She wished she could find a moment to tell him of her thoughts for engaging the twins, especially Eli. Would Seth agree with her ideas or declare them as silly as she feared they were? And what suggestions might he make? It was frustrating not to be able to hold an innocent conversation with the man simply because Miss Dooley did not approve. Well, there had to be a time when she might encounter him outside the boardinghouse and ask his advice. She would watch for that opportunity—one Miss Dooley could do nothing about. In the meantime, she had work to do.
After staying up half the night and falling asleep fully clothed at the small writing table in her room, Amanda was nearly late for breakfast the following morning. Seth was not there, and while curious, she felt it best to leave it to Miss Jensen to solve the mystery of his absence.
“Mr. Grover is not joining us?” The milliner looked longingly at Seth’s empty chair.
“He stayed at the saloon most of the night—came back with me this morning, but then said something about looking at some land east of here, and rode off,” Ollie reported.
Amanda tried to banish from her mind the picture of Seth drinking and gambling the night away. She thought about the way he vacillated between charm and sullen distance at mealtime. She could practically hear her mother saying, “I told you so.”
And yet she felt that she knew another side of him—that night in the parlor he had been different, more like her brother Jess, or Maria’s husband, Chet. He certainly had given her no cause for alarm.
The clock chimed the half hour, reminding Amanda that she wanted to arrive for work early so she could set up lessons for the day before Eli and Ellie came to the library—if they came at all. By the time she reached the Baxter home, she had strengthened her resolve to make this work out for everyone involved. After all, she was the adult, and they were children. She used the back gate that led to the kitchen entrance, having decided that would be easier than knocking on the impressive front door each day.
Kitty was kneading dough for bread. “Ready for the front lines?” she asked.
“Quite ready,” Amanda replied, squaring her shoulders and tightening her grip on the satchel that Mr. Baxter’s secretary had insisted she keep.
“That’s the spirit. Call out if you need me,” she added as Amanda continued down the hall that led to the front of the house and the library.
“Good morning, Miss Baxter, Mr. Baxter,” Amanda said as she entered the room and slid the double doors closed. She was surprised to see them seated across from each other, their heads bent over the books she had left the day before. They exchanged a look of curiosity when she closed the doors, and then another when she set down her satchel and took out her worn Bible. She opened it and read one of the Psalms aloud before placing it in the center of the table.
“On your feet, please,” she instructed. She folded her hands in prayer and waited.
The twins hesitated, then stumbled to their feet. Amanda was shocked to see that Eli had a black eye and Ellie’s forearm showed a bruise as well.
She spoke the first words of the prayer and waited for the twins to join in. She saw Ellie’s lips move but heard no sound. Eli did not bow his head or make any attempt to say the words, but at least he was not mocking her or his sister. One step at a time, Amanda thought. This was progress.
Once the prayer ended, Amanda waited a few seconds, then cleared her throat to gain their attention. Ellie watched her warily while Eli glanced her way and then returned to staring out the window.
“Before we begin the day’s lessons,” she said, “I want to say something about how things have gone up to now. I feel we got off to a poor start, and your father expects me to teach as he expects you to learn. He has not seen fit to explain why you are taught at home rather than enrolled in the public school or the one run by the monks. I can see that while some of your choices may not be the best, you are both incredibly bright—certainly, Eli, you are creative, given your antics. The snake was perhaps out of line, but it does show evidence of a clever mind. And you, Ellie, have shown real promise in the way you consider all sides of a question. For either of you not to continue your education would be criminal.”
Ellie’s eyes sparked with interest. “You called us by our given names,” she said.
“Yes, I did.”
Eli remained stoic, although when she mentioned the snake, she noticed he stared directly at her. He squinted. “What are we supposed to call you?”
“I really think in my case you should continue with ‘Miss Porterfield.’ I’m not sure your father would approve of more familiarity.” To her surprise, Eli nodded, and when he spoke, she thought she detected a bit of respect.
“I got kicked out,” he announced.
“And you, Ellie?”
“Father was upset with those in charge, and he decided we should learn at home. Mother taught us until…” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“I see. Very well; we have the foundation for why we are all here, and now we need to build upon that.” Amanda realized she sounded more and more like her mother. “I have an idea that might interest you,” she added, and—heaven help her—was pretty sure she gave the twins the same knowing smile her mother offered whenever she knew she had gained her children’s attention.
She removed papers and supplies from her satchel. As she had hoped, dropping the conversation and leaving the twins hanging had worked. Eli turned his chair around, leaned his folded arms on the table, and glared at her. “So what’s this big idea?”
She looked up as if surprised. “Oh, was that a question for me, Eli? When there are multiple people involved in a discussion, it is always helpful—and respectful—to address that person by name.”
Eli rolled his eyes and unfolded his lanky body from the chair. “Miss Porterfield,” he bellowed, “what, pray tell, is your big idea?” He sat down again and waited.
Ellie could not stifle a giggle, and Amanda had to admit that his antics could be amusing. She grinned at both children.
“We will come to that in due time, Eli, but I do thank you for your interest, and I look forward to our discussion over lunch today—that is, if you plan to join your sister and me.” She actually winked at Ellie, who ducked her head to hide her smile. “For now, please take out your notebooks and write two pages on this topic.” She turned to the board, took a fresh stick of chalk from her pocket, and wrote: If I could do anything in the world, I would…
Ellie studied the words for a moment and then bent close to her paper, her pencil flying as she filled line after line. Amanda noticed that Ellie had already completed one whole page before Eli began writing. When he did, he made exaggerated, large, childish letters that took up three lines on the page. Amanda used the time to write a list of words on the board.
The morning passed. She collected their essays and resisted the temptation to read them then and there. She would save that for tonight. She told them to study the words on the board, then she erased those words and had the twins write them in a spelling exercise, and finally, write a sentence using each word. To her amazement, Eli performed each task—grudgingly, to be sure, but he did what she asked. By the time the clock chimed noon, Amanda felt as if much had been accomplished.
“Go wash up, students,” she said. “I’ll tell Mrs. Caldwell that we will take our lunch in here today. The wind is strong, and I fear we would consume as much grit and dirt as we would nutrition.”
As soon as the twins had left the room, Amanda hurried to the kitchen where Kitty was placing sandwiches and fruit on plates. “What happened to Eli’s eye?” she asked. “And Ellie has a nasty bruise on her forearm.”
Kitty did not look up, but continued preparing the
lunch tray. “Mr. Baxter is a strict disciplinarian—always has been. When their mother was alive, the children could get away with more. But these days…” She shook her head and then wiped the corner of her eye with the hem of her apron.
“He beats them?”
“He loses his temper and, to be fair, Eli can be difficult. His size makes him think he can talk back to others and not be challenged. Their father is grieving, and I suspect all is not well at the bank. He has a good deal on his mind these days and…”
“But to strike your child in such a way…”
“As I said, Mr. Baxter is a strict man, and lately, he has been at a loss as to how best to deal with the children.”
It was evident to Amanda that Kitty would defend her employer in all cases. To inspire such loyalty certainly spoke well of him, but still, striking his own children with such force seemed extreme. Should Amanda speak to him about her concern?
She heard the twins whispering in the hall. “I’ll take the tray into the library,” she said. “The winds are strong today, so eating on the porch might be uncomfortable.”
Kitty nodded. “I’ll bring glasses and water,” she said. “He’s a good man, Amanda,” she added softly.
“Of course.”
Eli and Ellie stopped whispering the minute they saw her.
“Eli, if you would be so kind as to take the tray, your sister and I can make room on the table for our lunch.”
He did as she asked without comment or even so much as a hint of eye-rolling. Once they were seated and Kitty had brought the pitcher of water and glasses, Amanda took a deep breath and plunged into what she hoped might be the idea that would get them through this day and all the days to come.
“It occurs to me that learning is your occupation for the foreseeable future. Much as your father goes off to work each morning, the two of you come here. Much as your father has tasks and problems he must attend throughout his day, so do you have lessons and exercises you must solve.”