A Little Learning

by Margot Early

  When Seamus dropped her at the clinic, she found her grandmother waiting. Sondra Nichols was turned out in high fashion, as usual, in black wool pants, high-heeled boots and white fur. As Rory walked through the door, she said, “There you are. I hope this teaches you that backcountry skiing is dangerous.”

  Rory kissed her and then greeted Dr. Hennessey, who examined and X-rayed her wrist and found the crack at the distal end of her ulna. Seamus had gone on with her car to the Empire Street house to see how his children were. Rory’s mind was on them, too. She was enormously glad that after finding Seamus and Rory, her father had been able to return to Sultan and reassure the kids.

  As the doctor fit a splint to her wrist, Samantha burst through the door. “I cannot believe you,” she exclaimed. “An avalanche? I’m kind of jealous, in a way. That you survived an avalanche.”

  “It was hideous,” Rory said. Skiing down from the hut, she’d remembered the sensation of being buried, of knowing that her life was in the hands of her companion. Before Seamus had reached her, she’d tried to dig herself out, but she’d had only one arm to use, and it had been wedged above her.

  Her grandmother left to collect her mail at the post office, but Samantha remained with Rory, and then the two friends walked home together, Rory in three pairs of socks, having left the torturing tele boots in her car. Right now, she preferred socks as footwear, even in the cold.

  Samantha said, “Is something going on between you and Seamus?”

  “Yes, and I don’t know if my father figured that out last night. He warned me against getting involved.” She told Samantha the things her father had said and acknowledged the dilemma of Seamus being a client.

  “Well, guess what.”

  Rory looked at her. “What?”

  “Our house is already under contract.”

  “To who?”

  “One of the Telluride investors your father brought to the open house. I don’t think he plans to live in it, and he doesn’t want renters. I think he wants to turn it into a saloon, with rooms upstairs.”

  Rory groaned.

  “We have thirty days,” Samantha said. “Until closing. We can stay at the hot springs after that.”

  “The hot springs is just a temporary solution. We need to look for another house to rent.” And the rent, Rory knew, would be substantially more than she’d paid all the years she’d lived in the house that Desert owned.

  “Your dad said to come by the school ‘at your leisure.’”

  Rory’s vague uneasiness intensified. Her broken wrist would restrict her usefulness to the Sultan Mountain School. Plus, now she was involved with a client. She felt almost as if she’d become part of Seamus during the night they’d spent together kissing, talking and feeling.

  So, must she walk away from her job? The Lees would soon be finished with their time at the Sultan Mountain School. Just a few more weeks.

  How did I let something like this happen?

  Well, they’d just have to be discreet and a bit reserved for the next few weeks.

  “Worried about your dad?” Samantha seemed to read her mind.

  “Funny. You’ve called him that twice. Other people call him that and I never think of him that way. He’s my father, but Dad sounds as if he’s actually part of my life.”

  Samantha nodded sympathetically.

  Rory said, “He did come out last night, though. But that’s who he is. He would have done it for any of the instructors, for any of the clients—for anyone.”

  Samantha glanced at her. They had almost reached the house when Rory spotted Beau walking toward her with Seuss. “Rory!” he shouted.

  The story Seamus had told her the night before of Janine’s death came to the front of her mind. “I’m glad to see you,” she exclaimed. “But I have to get inside before the cold gets through these socks.”

  He followed the women up the path to the massive pink Victorian and came inside. The puppy began sniffing the floor, the furniture, skidding on the wood and wagging his tail.

  Rory said, “I’m so sorry that happened, Beau. All of you must have been terrified when your dad didn’t get back.”

  Beau shrugged. “I didn’t think anything bad had happened. I mean, nothing that bad’s going to happen to us again.”

  Rory hoped that was true. In any case, she wasn’t going to discourage his optimistic attitude.

  “I thought he might have gotten you lost or something, but I knew you’d figure it out.”

  His blind faith in her abilities both humbled and alarmed her. “It’s a dangerous world out there, Beau.”

  “I want to hear about the avalanche.”

  They sat in the kitchen drinking milk and eating some cookies left over from a party at the hot springs. Rory told Samantha and Beau about the avalanche. “I was lucky,” she concluded. “Very lucky. We should have been more careful. That’s how accidents happen.” She realized, as she spoke it, that the word accident might make Beau think of his mother’s death. That hadn’t been her intention.

  He said, “Yeah,” and then said nothing more.

  *

  HER FATHER STOOD UP from his desk when she entered his office.

  She grabbed one of the old wooden chairs with a leather seat and back, and sat down.

  Kurt walked behind her, closed the door and returned to his desk.

  Rory tensed.

  “So,” he said, “in light of your injury, I’m going to put you on some clerical work. We’ve got paperwork to file, other tasks, some letters to write. Think you can do that? I realize you have only your dominant hand to work with.”

  Rory said, “Thank you. I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry I let this happen.”

  He cracked a smile and shook his head. “When you’re in the backcountry, accidents can happen. Fortunately, this one had a happy ending.”

  Rory hesitated. “So…someone else will finish up as the Lee family’s program coordinator and head instructor?”

  “In consultation with you. But it’s not realistic for you to take the kids on their field exams. They’ve done the course work. I’d say your job is pretty well done. You did it well. Let’s move you into some other functions here at the school, so that you can get a better idea of the whole picture.”

  Rory could hardly believe her ears. It sounded almost as if he was grooming her for a position of greater responsibility. If he wanted her to “get a better idea of the whole picture.” “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to set you up in Carrie’s office, and she’s going to show you some of the things she’s been responsible for.” He rose from his chair again. “I want to give you another day to rest from your accident. Tomorrow, 8:00 a.m.?”

  “Yes,” Rory said.

  *

  BELLE GAZED DISTRUSTFULLY at Jay Norris, the instructor who’d looked after them the night before and who would now be taking each of them into the field. Watching his daughter, Seamus reminded himself that Belle would be demonstrating her skiing technique along with the other children from her ski class. Rory had been by to formally hand the reins to Jay and to discuss the change with the whole family. Then, she’d left, to give Jay a chance to organize their activities.

  He was a decent young man, and Seamus picked up the fact that he’d briefly been Desert’s boyfriend.

  Belle said, “I want Rory to test me.”

  Jay crouched beside her. “I know. But Rory got hurt in the avalanche, so she has to take a break from being out in the field. I’m sorry, Belle. You’ve got to put up with me.”

  She turned to Seamus and wrapped her arms around his legs.

  Lauren, lying on the couch, abruptly sat up. “Well, I’m free for right now. Correct, Jay?”

  “You are. This afternoon at about two, I want you to fill out an evaluation of the school, but your field exam isn’t until tomorrow.”

  Lauren picked up her pale blue ski jacket and pulled it on.

  “Where are you off to?” Seamus
asked. Ever since the open house, he’d tried to keep closer tabs on Lauren and what she was doing. But they always seemed to walk a fine line. He did not want to restrict her too much and risk another argument about her mother. Yet he knew she was spending time with people he believed were too old for her. He resisted saying, No, you can’t go.

  “The coffeehouse,” she said.

  He checked his coat pockets and found a ten-dollar bill. “Bring me back a cappuccino?” he asked. “And yours is on me.”

  She made a face. “I want to hang out there.”

  “So, bring my coffee back first.” That would take up some time, Seamus reasoned. Time she might otherwise use less wisely.

  Lauren sighed dramatically. “All right.”

  Jay glanced at her as she went out the door, his expression thoughtful.

  Seamus said, “Yes?” with the sense that he was about to learn more about how his oldest daughter spent her free time.

  Jay glanced at Belle, the only other person in the room, and then stood up. Seamus could well imagine that even if the other man knew something, he would be reluctant to speak—most of all, to Seamus. Seamus tried to think of some way to make it possible for Jay to reveal what, if anything, he knew about Lauren’s hours away from the rest of her family.

  Jay said, “How old is she?”

  “Fourteen, going on twenty-five,” Seamus said.

  Jay nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t answer.

  “Why?” Seamus asked.

  “Some kids I know—from the ski area—are under the impression she’s sixteen.”

  Seamus’s eyes widened. So he’d never needed to explain to Lauren why she shouldn’t be interesting to a twenty-year-old male. Lauren, perhaps, already knew. And she’d told the male—or males—that she was already sixteen. The age of legal consent.

  “Thank you,” Seamus said. “Can I count on you to circulate the real facts?”

  The young man grinned. “Definitely.”

  *

  RORY SELDOM WENT out for coffee. When she drank coffee, it was black coffee brewed at home. But her more than satisfactory meeting with her father called for a celebration, so she walked to Sultan’s one real coffeehouse, Grounds for Action, to order a two-shot caffe latte.

  When she walked inside, the first person she saw was Lauren, sitting near the woodstove with two backcountry skiers and another girl. Rory knew none of them, but she could tell at a glance that they were all several years older than Lauren.

  This is not my responsibility.

  Yet Lauren was Seamus’s daughter. And Rory cared about Lauren in her own right. “What are you doing? Are you off work today, then?” Lauren asked, when Rory walked up to her.

  Rory nodded. “I’m getting a latte.”

  “Will you take my dad’s to him? I ordered him one and they’re making it.”

  “Actually, I can’t,” Rory improvised. It would be unwise for her to return to Seamus’s house right now. Jay was the Lees’ program coordinator and he needed to be supported as such.

  But the door swung open behind her, and in came Seamus, with Belle. Rory knew that Caleb and Beau must be skiing, demonstrating technique as part of their fieldwork.

  “I thought I’d come after that cup of coffee myself.”

  “She’s making it,” Lauren told him. She remained near Rory and Seamus, and Rory suspected this was so that she wouldn’t have to introduce the people with whom she’d been sitting.

  Seamus swept the coffeehouse as if looking for someone. “I don’t see your friend, the barista.”

  “It’s her day off,” Lauren said.

  Seamus seemed alert to everyone present in the long, narrow shop. He’d spotted the group near the woodstove, noticed them glancing at Lauren and had undoubtedly picked up that they were her friends.

  “So,” Seamus said, “I hear that you’re sixteen.”

  Color flooded Lauren’s face and Rory moved away, doing her best to pretend she hadn’t heard this. She crouched to speak with Belle.

  Belle said, “I want hot chocolate. Dad said.”

  Dad. Good job, Seamus. He was regaining his children’s trust—at least with one of his children.

  “Do you want me to order it for you?” Rory asked. “I’ll ask them to make sure it’s not too hot.”

  “I can order,” Belle said. “Fiona lets me.”

  “Okay!” Rory responded. She wanted to touch Seamus and be touched by him, but they both knew that any public sign they were more to each other than friends was a bad idea. Until the course was over. And then, how long could he remain in Sultan? His children needed to get back to school….

  Behind her, she heard Lauren say, “Would you please just leave me alone? There’s no one like me here who is my age. These are my friends.”

  “Friends to whom you’ve lied about something pretty basic.”

  With the espresso machine running, Rory doubted the group by the stove could hear them. She had to strain to do so.

  “You’re the one who’s talking about moving here,” Lauren accused. “And I like it, but you’re picking on me. Why did you follow me?”

  Rory stood to place her own coffee order and with her one good arm she managed to lift Belle to a stool at the counter so she could place hers.

  “Because you’re being untrustworthy. You’re lying to other people right and left, which makes me think you’ve lied to me, as well.”

  “About what?”

  “Why don’t you collect your coffee and mine and we can return to the house to discuss it?”

  “You never noticed a single thing I did until we came here.”

  “Let’s talk about this at home.”

  Rory was fairly sure she knew what would happen—either on the way back to Empire Street or when they reached the house. Lauren would distract her father from her own behavior by raising the subject of her mother.

  She had the same feeling she’d experienced during the avalanche; of being affected by forces beyond her control. She was seeing Seamus and she suspected that she was going to continue to become closer to him. But in doing so, she was entering into a complicated situation. He had four children and a different relationship with each child. When the SMS course ended, who would Rory be to those children? Their father’s girlfriend? What would he expect of her in that role? What would they expect? And what could she expect of them?

  Her father had thought Seamus wanted only a casual relationship with her. She knew already that he wanted something quite different. Her father had been wrong, wrong, wrong. What Seamus wanted was more challenging and also more important. Rory wondered if her father would think her competent to deal with that role—in essence, stepmother to four children whose mother had died suddenly and violently.

  Wait, she told herself. Let it play out. That’s all you can do now.

  Rory sat at the counter with Belle and asked her what she’d done that day. They discussed Belle’s stuffed animals, one of whom, Belle said, had caught a cold. Not Mouse, but Elsie Cow, who was now in bed and covered up.

  Rory felt a hand on her shoulder—Seamus’s.

  Beside her, Lauren was paying for her own and her father’s coffee. “I got mine for here,” she said. “Yours is to go.”

  Leave, Dad. Leave.

  “Want to go for a walk with Belle and me?” Seamus asked, as Rory paid for her coffee and stuffed a dollar in the tip jar.

  I’m no longer working with him. Had her father shifted her to office work so that would be the case? Why would he facilitate her being with Seamus, if he believed Seamus would lead her on and then leave Sultan?

  She shrugged. “I guess so. I’m struggling a little with how it looks. Because I work for the school.”

  Seamus smiled. “We have only a matter of a few days left at the school. I think you should stop worrying about that.”

  They stepped out into the spring day. Sultan was still a long way from summer, when there would be crowds of tourists, but a couple of the more vital stores had
reopened.

  Belle stopped often to sip her hot chocolate, and Rory and Seamus waited for her. Finally, they sat down on a bench outside the town toy store.

  Belle exclaimed, “Stuffies!” and Seamus caught her hot chocolate cup as she dashed to the window to examine the array of stuffed animals. She spun around. “Daddy, can I get a new stuffy?”

  Seamus looked thoughtfully at his youngest. He realized he couldn’t remember buying her a single stuffed animal in her life. He couldn’t remember what he’d ever bought for her birthday or Christmas. He had bought presents—he’d asked Fiona what he should get. Now he said, “Yes.”

  “Can Rory get one, too, so we can play?”

  “I have some, Belle,” Rory said quickly. “They’re at my grandmother’s house.”

  “At Miss Sondra’s?”

  Rory laughed at this name for her grandmother. “Yes.”

  “I bet you could use another one,” Seamus said. Then, more softly, “I want to give you something. Many things.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “Which one do you like?” Belle asked. “Can we go in?”

  “After you finish your hot chocolate,” Seamus told her. He turned to Rory. “You know, I think I should get something for each of them. A souvenir of being here and completing the course.”

  Souvenirs were not something you collected from the place where you lived. A memento of being somewhere, Rory thought, had to do with leaving.

  With his returning to Telluride.

  She had assumed too much. Far too much. His gift for her might be farewell.

  No.

  She forced her mind back to what Seamus had said. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

  “I’d like to buy Beau a pair of skis from that shop where he works. Surely they’ll give me a discount, with all the work he’s done there.”

  “A big discount,” Rory agreed. “Look into it.”

  “I don’t want this to be a long-distance relationship,” he said.

  Rory blinked at the non sequitur. Either he was a mind reader or the thing foremost in her mind was also first in his. “You’re going back to Telluride,” she said, as lightly as possible.

  “I’d like you to come, too.”