Tarah's Lessons

by Tracey V. Bateman

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-58660-484-8

  © 2001 by Tracey Victoria Bateman. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Truly Yours, PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover illustration by Lorraine Bush.

  One

  Tarah St. John stood at the doorway of the little sod schoolhouse and waved good-bye to her departing students. Finally, the endless day was over!

  Releasing a weary sigh, she pressed her palms to her cheeks and rubbed vigorously, attempting to ease her aching jaw. Whoever had said “A smile never hurt anyone” had obviously never tried to force one all day.

  With purpose, she pulled the wooden door firmly shut and turned to her one remaining student. She narrowed her gaze, set her lips into a firm line, and stomped back to the front of the room, her blue gingham skirts swishing about her legs.

  Very near to tears, Tarah rammed her hands on her hips and faced the redheaded boy writing sentences on the slate blackboard. “Luke St. John,” she said furiously. “You just wait till Pa hears about this.”

  “Aw,” her twelve-year-old brother protested, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. “You ain’t gotta tell Ma and Pa.”

  “I don’t have to tell them,” she corrected. “But it just so happens I want to. Honestly, your orneriness is probably the sole reason Miss Nelson gave up teaching and hightailed it back East.” She paced the floor behind him, trying to come up with just the right words to make him thoroughly ashamed of himself.

  “Come on, Tarah.” He kicked at the ground with a booted toe. “Don’t be mad.”

  Steeling herself against his conciliatory tone, Tarah glared at her brother. She refused to let him off the hook so easily. “You made me look plumb foolish, Luke. Did you have to show off for the new girl on my very first day of teaching?”

  Luke stopped his nearly illegible scrawling and turned to her, his green eyes flashing in anger. “I weren’t showing off for no girl!”

  “Wasn’t showing off for any girl. And you were so. I saw you staring at Josie Raney all during spelling lessons this morning. And from the looks of those sentences,” she said, with a pointed glance at the board, “you need to concentrate on spelling a sight more than you need to look at a pretty new face. There are two bs in ribbons.”

  “I wasn’t looking at her pretty face,” Luke insisted.

  Tarah couldn’t resist a teasing grin. “So you do think she’s pretty.”

  Caught by his own words, the boy grinned back, showing teeth still rather large for his face. He shrugged. “I reckon.”

  “Then why in the world did you dip her ribbon in your inkwell? Don’t you know they cost money?”

  Luke shifted and stared at his feet. “Guess I weren’t thinking about that,” he mumbled.

  “Apparently you weren’t,” Tarah said with a sniff. “Well, you’ll just have to buy her a new one.”

  Panic sparked in the boy’s eyes. “But I don’t got no money.”

  She lifted a delicate brow and regarded him frankly. “I suppose I’d be willing to help you out.”

  “You would?” Hope widened Luke’s eyes.

  Tarah nodded. “I’ll give you a penny a day until you have enough to pay for the ribbons. But you’ll have to earn it.”

  She felt a prick of guilt at bribing him, but after the day he’d put her through, she was just weary enough to offer him anything. If he would just be good until the other children got used to her, his disruptions would be manageable. As it was, he only encouraged unruly behavior among the other students.

  Suspicion clouded the hope in his eyes. “What do I gotta do?”

  “All you have to do is be good in class.”

  Luke’s eyebrows darted upward. “That’s it?”

  Tarah bit back the smile threatening the corners of her mouth. She knew her brother. He would definitely have to work hard to earn that money. “That’s all. Think you can manage it?”

  He scrunched his nose, obviously trying to weigh his options. “How much do hair ribbons cost?”

  “Five cents ought to get her enough ribbon for a matched pair.”

  “Two? But I only inked one of her ol’ ribbons.”

  “Yes, but she was wearing a matching set. One of which you ruined. A girl can’t go around wearing two differentcolored ribbons in her hair.”

  Luke’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and he turned back to writing his sentences. “Aw, who cares if they match, anyway?” he muttered.

  “She does,” Tarah replied firmly. “And so do I. Do we have a deal?”

  A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “I guess I don’t got no choice.”

  “Good.” Elated by the victory, Tarah didn’t even bother to correct his grammar. “I’ll buy the ribbon on the way home from school, and all you have to do is behave yourself for a week.”

  He scowled and nodded.

  “Now hurry and finish those sentences so we can get home and help with chores.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Tarah turned and began to tidy up the books scattered across her desk.

  The door opened just then, and sunlight streamed into the small schoolhouse. Tarah glanced up as Josie Raney shuffled to the front of the room.

  “Why, Josie, did you forget something?”

  A deep chuckle emanated from the doorway. “My niece forgot her little brother, I’m afraid.”

  Tarah squinted against the blinding light, trying to make out the man’s features. She caught her breath as he stepped through the doorway into plain view. Anthony Greene. Looking every bit as handsome as ever. He still had the same unruly, sandy blond hair and brown eyes, able to melt a girl’s insides with one glance in her direction—like now. “Why, Anthony,” she said breathlessly. “When did you get back in town?”

  “Hello, Tarah.” He grinned broadly. “So you are the new schoolteacher. I thought Ma was pulling my leg.”

  Tarah bristled. “Why’s that? Don’t you think I can be a teacher?” After the day she had just gone through, she wasn’t at all sure she could be a teacher, but she certainly didn’t need anyone else questioning the fact.

  “Sure,” he said with a lift of his brow. “I just figured some lucky man would have married you by now.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks as memories of her schoolgirl crush came rushing back to torture her. She’d had dreams of marrying him. But one year her senior, Anthony Greene was the only young man in Harper who had seemed unaware she existed. Much to Tarah’s humiliation, he’d preferred the simpering Louisa Thomas.

  When he’d left for seminary, no one had expected he’d ever be back. But there he was, as real as Luke’s big ornery, knowing grin.

  “Hi, Anthony,” Luke said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “We’ve missed you.” Tilting his head, he gave Tarah a sly look from the corner of his eye. “Haven’t we, Sis?”

  The lilt in his voice sent a warning through Tarah. Surely he was not going to humiliate her in front of Anthony Greene, of all people!

  “Luke. . . ,” Tarah warned.

  “My hand’s awfully tired from writing those sentences, Tarah.” Luke’s voice rang with challenge.

  The boy would pay and pay dearly. “All right,” she replied through gritted teeth, taking care to keep what she hoped to be a sweet smile plastered on her face. “I
think you’ve learned your lesson.” She’d deal with the little stinker later. Right now she had to thwart any embarrassing comment he might make about her former crush.

  “Now,” she said, turning her attention back to Anthony and Josie. “What’s this about Toby not making it home with you?” she asked the girl.

  “I thought he was right behind me,” Josie replied, keeping her gaze to the floor.

  “I know where he is,” Luke spoke up. “I saw him go to the outhouse.”

  Josie’s chin jerked upward and she stared wide-eyed at Luke.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I. . .uh. . .saw him through the window when I was writing sentences.”

  “And you didn’t see him come out?” Anthony asked incredulously.

  Luke kept his gaze fixed on Josie’s pale face. “Naw,” he said with a shrug. “But that old latch is rusty. It gets stuck all the time. Don’t it, Tarah?”

  “Doesn’t it,” she corrected. “And Pa just fixed it last week.”

  “I better go check on him,” Anthony said. “Come along, Jo.”

  “I think I’ll stay in here and help Luke clean the blackboard,” Josie said, giving Anthony a sweet smile. “If that’s okay with you, Uncle Anthony.”

  A flood of color rushed to Luke’s cheeks, making his freckles pop out even brighter. “I don’t need no—”

  “How sweet of you,” Tarah broke in, pleasantly surprised by the kind gesture. Maybe Luke’s crush on this girl would prove to be a motivating factor for improving his behavior. One could certainly hope, anyway.

  Tarah observed Anthony’s broad shoulders as he headed toward the door. Her heartbeat quickened, and she hurried to follow him.

  It was only natural for her to make sure the little boy made it home all right, she inwardly insisted. Her concern had nothing whatsoever to do with a desire to prolong her contact with Anthony. Oh, whom was she trying to fool? Anthony had walked out of her life when he’d left town two years ago without so much as a backward glance, and she had no intention of letting it happen again!

  “So you’re the new teacher. . . .”

  “I didn’t know you had a niece and nephew. . . .”

  They spoke together as they walked around the side of the building.

  Tarah laughed. “You first.”

  He gave a deep chuckle, the pleasant sound causing Tarah’s stomach to do somersaults.

  “They’re my sister Ella’s kids,” he explained. “She and her husband, Joe, stayed back East when Pa moved the family out here three years ago.”

  “So your sister and brother-in-law decided to move out here, after all?”

  He shook his head. “Only Ella and the children came. They’ll stay and help Ma for a while. Pa’s death was awfully hard on her.”

  “Oh, Anthony, how thoughtless of me. I’m terribly sorry about your pa’s passing.”

  Anthony swallowed hard and nodded. “It was a shock. If I had known he was ill, I never would have left.”

  Tarah reached out and gently touched his arm. “You mustn’t blame yourself,” she said softly. “There was no way you or anyone else could possibly have known.”

  He stopped walking and turned to her, covering her hand with his own. “Thank you, Tarah,” he said earnestly. “I guess I know that in my heart. But I can’t help but feel if I had been here to take on some of the load, his heart wouldn’t have given out the way it did.”

  Tarah opened her mouth to reply but stopped short as a cry broke through the moment.

  “L–l–et me out. I–I–I w–w–want out.”

  Together, Tarah and Anthony sprinted the few final yards to the outhouse.

  The door was more than jammed. Someone had wrapped a rope around the entire outhouse, obviously locking the little boy in there on purpose.

  “Honestly,” Tarah said. “Who would have done such a thing?”

  Anthony tossed a quick glance toward the schoolhouse. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” he drawled.

  He quickly untied the simple knot and unwound the rope. The door swung open, and six-year-old Toby stumbled out of the doorway. Fat tears rolled down his chubby cheeks as he grabbed onto Anthony’s legs and hung on for all he was worth.

  Tarah knelt beside the boy. “Sweetie, who did this?”

  “J–j–jo,” he said, then dissolved into tears once more.

  “You mean your sister, Josie?” she asked incredulously.

  “Uh-huh. She said n–n–no one w–w–w–ould miss me and I’d b–b–b–e here all n–n–night.”

  Anthony lifted his nephew and held him close. “Well, someone did miss you, Scout,” he soothed. “As soon as Jo came home alone, your ma sent me looking for you.”

  “M–m–ma still wants me?” The little boy pulled slightly away and looked at Anthony with wide, hopeful eyes. “Even w–w–with the n–n–new b–baby coming?”

  “Of course she does. Who could ever replace our Toby?”

  “Jo s–s–said sh–sh–she wants a b–b–boy wh–who d–d–doesn’t st–st–stutter.”

  Indignation filled Tarah. So much for her idea that the girl would be a good influence on Luke. Imagine, making the tyke feel as though he were about to be replaced—then locking him in the outhouse to boot.

  Anthony disentangled himself from Toby’s death grip and set the boy gently on the ground. “You ready to go, Scout? Your ma’s pretty worried about you. We should go and let her know you’re all right.”

  Toby bobbed his head and swiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

  Tarah grimaced as he slipped the same hand inside Anthony’s. To her amazement, Anthony smiled affectionately at his nephew and tightened his grip. “Then let’s get your sister and go home. You coming, Tarah?”

  “In a moment. I think I need to get this rope to a safe place so we don’t have a repeat of this incident.”

  “All right, then. I’m going to round up Jo and head for home. And Tarah. . .”

  “Yes?”

  He held her with a long, penetrating gaze, sending her pulse racing. “Thanks for listening to me about. . .you know.”

  Exhaling slowly, Tarah nodded, but couldn’t find the appropriate response. He hesitated for a moment, then gave her another heart-stopping smile and turned to go back to the school.

  Honestly, Tarah berated herself as the words she should have said spilled into her mind. Couldn’t you have at least said something? Anything would have been better than staring at him like he had dirt on his nose.

  Shaking her head in disgust, she bent forward and picked up the rope from where it still lay in a tangled mess in front of the outhouse. When she stood up, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Through the window, she saw Luke and Jo—each doubled over in laughter.

  Tarah wasn’t sure if they were laughing at her or at the cruel joke Josie had played on her brother, but either way she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She groaned aloud. Not only did she have Luke to contend with—now, he had an ally.

  ❧

  Anthony excused himself from the uproar following his homecoming with the two children. That niece of his was a perfect terror, he decided as he walked out the door to the barn. Thankfully, chores waited to be done so he wouldn’t be able to hear her howls from the much-deserved whipping she was about to receive.

  Poor Tarah! As the schoolteacher, she would have her hands full with Josie, and if her own brother, Luke, was anything like he used to be, she’d be lucky to stick it out for the whole term.

  A grin lifted the corners of his mouth as he stepped inside the barn. That Tarah St. John was still just about the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He would have asked for permission to court her years ago, but just when he thought she might agree to such a thing, he’d felt an urge to go to seminary, an urge he knew was from God and too strong to ignore.

  He drew in the pungent odor of fresh hay combined with manure. Returning to farm life hadn’t exactly been in his plans after he’d accepted the call to preach. He
had headed back East to seminary with the intention of returning home only to visit his family. But he knew better than to question God.

  “Lord,” he prayed while mucking out the first stall, “I know my responsibility is to Ma and the boys.” He released a heavy sigh. “I don’t begrudge them the help, but sometimes I feel like if I don’t get the chance to preach I’m going to explode.”

  He cast a sidelong glance at the barn door to make sure he was alone, then turned to the black gelding finishing his supper.

  “For God so loved the world,” he told Dodger, his faithful, four-legged parishioner, “that He gave.”

  With a complete lack of interest, the horse stamped a hoof on the barn floor and swished his tail at a fly.

  “The Lord gave all He had so that you. . .yes,” he said, pointing a finger at the long face, “I mean you, could have eternal life.”

  Anthony felt the excitement surge within him, and he dropped the pitchfork. Pacing the barn, he included all the pitifully sinful creatures with a wide sweep of his hand.

  “Now, if Jesus gave His life—a sacrifice on an altar made by sinful, greedy men—do you dare keep yourself back from His free gift of salvation? Salvation bought with the blood of God’s innocent Son?”

  Sweat began to bead on his forehead.

  “Must the Lord strive forever with man?”

  His voice rose to match the excitement of his eloquent message. June, the milk cow, raised her head and stared, clearly captivated by the rousing sermon. Anthony focused on the sorrowful brown eyes gazing back at him. “Oh, wicked and sinful generation, will you harden your hearts forever, or will you return to your God with weeping and a rending of hearts?”

  “Uncle Anthony?”

  Rats! Just when he was about to give the altar call!

  He turned to face Josie. “I thought you were in trouble.”

  She shrugged. “Ma whipped me.”

  Must not have made much of an impression, Anthony thought wryly, for the little girl’s face held an impish grin.

  “What are you doing out here? Come to help muck out the barn?”

  A wrinkle creased the perky little nose. “Uh-uh. Ma says I should come talk to you so you can tell me how a Christian girl is supposed to treat others.”