Tarah's Lessons

by Tracey V. Bateman

  As the chilly autumn air gave way to a mid-November freeze, Tarah still hadn’t made a decision.

  Glancing out at her empty schoolroom, Tarah allowed her mind to imagine what it would be like to move away from home for a few months and teach a new group of students. Excitement warred with uncertainty, feelings all too common in the past few weeks.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to heed Mrs. Simpson’s advice and allow Anthony to see how deeply she cared for him. Fear wrapped around her heart each time she considered the possibility. It was just no use. Besides, the only time she saw him anymore was after service on Sunday, and Louisa always claimed her place by his side, clinging to his arm with either a picnic lunch packed for the two of them or an invitation to her parents’ house for dinner. Tarah held her breath each Sunday morning, praying Anthony wouldn’t announce their betrothal from the pulpit. So far, he hadn’t. But Tarah feared the day was fast approaching.

  With a sigh, Tarah stood and began to tidy her small desk. Only two weeks remained in the school term. She had hoped by now that Anthony would have come to his senses like Mrs. Simpson believed he would. In her favorite daydream, she always penned a letter to Mr. Halston, thanking him for his patience, but informing him she was to be married soon, so teaching in Starling was out of the question. So far, her dreams were only that: dreams. The wretched reality was that Anthony still seemed mesmerized by Louisa Thomas.

  Gloomily, Tarah gathered her belongings and headed down the aisle, just as Ben and Laney burst through the door. Pale and visibly shaken, their breath came in short, quick bursts.

  A knot formed in Tarah’s stomach at the fear widening each pair of eyes. “What is it?”

  “W–we just seen Pa comin’ out of Tucker’s,” Ben said.

  Tarah gripped his shoulders and hurriedly scanned his face. “Ben, are you sure?”

  “It were him, all right,” Laney said, her lower lip trembling. “I ain’t goin’ back, and ain’t nobody makin’ me do it.”

  Ben limped to the window and peeked out. “Tarah, he’s headin’ over here. He musta seen us.” Ben’s voice shook with fear as he turned from the window. “We gonna have to go back?”

  “I don’t know, Ben.” Helpless fury engulfed her at the thought of that man waltzing into town after weeks of abandonment and expecting to take the children back.

  Over the past few weeks, Laney and Ben had lost the haunted expressions in their eyes. Now, the hopelessness had returned.

  “Well, you ain’t just gonna let ’im take us back, are you, Tarah?” Laney’s voice reflected her challenge, but her eyes held pleading.

  Tarah lifted her chin, determination rising inside of her. “I’m going to do everything I can to keep him from it. You two go to the front of the room and stay by my desk while I speak with your pa.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Tarah moved toward the door, preparing for confrontation, praying for wisdom.

  “Be careful, Tarah,” Ben warned. “He can get downright mean if he’s been drinkin’.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Tarah spoke with more confidence than she felt. Her insides quivered at the thought of confronting the man who had forced his children to live in squalor, practically starved them because of his laziness, and then abandoned them to the care of others. He was not worthy of his children, and she wouldn’t let them go without a fight.

  Oh, how she prayed God would make him see reason.

  She drew a steadying breath, gathering her courage as the door swung open and Mr. Jenkins appeared at the threshold. He stared at her through narrow black eyes. “I heared you got my young’uns.”

  “Th–they’ve been staying at the ranch during your absence, yes.”

  “Well, I come fer ’em.”

  “I–I wanted to discuss that with you, Mr. Jenkins.” Tarah motioned to a nearby desk. “Would you care to sit?”

  “No, Girlie, I don’t wanna sit. I want my young’uns.”

  “But they’ve been so happy with us. They’ve even come to school and made friends.” She looked into his unrelenting eyes and nearly sobbed. “Please let them stay.”

  He leaned toward her, his lips twisting into a sneer. Instinctively, Tarah stepped back, despising her cowardice.

  “So ya don’ think I’m a fittin’ pa, eh?”

  “I didn’t say that, Mr. Jenkins. But I–I know how much trouble you’ve had caring for them.”

  At the angry flush appearing in his cheeks, Tarah wished she could snatch the words back. The first unwritten rule in trying to get a man to see reason was never wound his pride. And she had done just that.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “Where are they?” he demanded.

  Couldn’t the man see past the end of his nose? With a frown, Tarah turned toward the desk. A wave of relief swept over her. Laney and Ben were nowhere to be seen. “Wh–why I don’t know where they are,” Tarah replied truthfully, though she had a feeling the pair was hiding under her desk.

  “Well, I ain’t agonna try and find ’em.” He squinted his beady eyes and wagged a filthy finger inches from Tarah’s nose. “Ya make sure them kids git their no-good hides to the soddy b’fore dark, or I’ll be a goin’ to the sheriff.”

  He shuffled toward the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  Weak with relief that the man was too lazy to look in the most logical hiding place available to the children, Tarah sank down in the nearest desk and glanced toward the front of the room. “You can come out now. He’s gone.”

  The cloth covering her desk moved, and Laney and Ben crawled out.

  Laney hopped to her feet and ran down the aisle. She hurled herself into Tarah’s arms. “Don’t let ’im take us back, Tarah. I promise I’ll do chores w’thout complainin’, and I won’t trip Luke no more just ’cause he’s walkin’ by; and next time I pitch the baseball at recess, I won’t throw it at that Josie Raney on purpose and try and hit her. A–and I can even say them words to Jesus, like Preacher wants me to.” She gathered in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’d do anythin’ to stay with ya.”

  Hot tears burned Tarah’s eyes. She blinked them back and swallowed hard, holding Laney at arm’s length. The tear-streaked face stared back at her with more vulnerability than Tarah had ever seen in the child.

  “Let’s go home and talk to my pa,” she said when she recovered her voice. “If anyone can change your pa’s mind, it’ll be my mine.”

  “Do you really think he might wanna keep us, Tarah?” Ben’s face lit with hope. “It’s awfully crowded at yer place.”

  Tarah’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Of course he’ll want to keep you. You’re part of the family now. Aren’t you?”

  “We are?” The expression on Laney’s face mirrored her brother’s. A mixture of disbelief and hope.

  Gathering the child back into an embrace, Tarah brushed a gentle kiss on her head. “Of course you are.”

  “I–I love ya, Tarah.”

  “I love you, too, Laney.” She glanced up at Ben over the little girl’s head. “And you, too, Ben.”

  The boy’s face glowed, and he looked away quickly, dashing a tear from his cheek.

  Laney stepped out of Tarah’s arms, a frown creasing her brow. “Aw, he ain’t gonna give us up. Folks only give ’im charity ’cause of Ben and me.”

  Ben’s face clouded over at his sister’s words. “Laney’s right. He ain’t never gonna give us up. We better just git on home.”

  “But let’s at least give it a try. Maybe my pa can convince him.”

  Shaking his head, Ben steered Laney toward the door. “It ain’t no use.” He stopped before stepping outside and turned back to Tarah. “Ya been awful good to Laney and me,” he said. “Nicer than anyone I can ever r’member, ’ceptin’ our ma—but Laney don’t r’member her.”

  Tears flowed down Tarah’s cheeks at the hopelessness reflected in each face. “Can’t you just wait? I’m sure my pa—”<
br />
  “I figure it ain’t right to ask yer pa to do that. ’Sides, don’t that Bible say children obey your parents fer this is right?”

  “Well, yes, but Ben—”

  “Then this is the right thing fer us to do. It’s better iffen we just head on home. And Tarah, I’m askin’ ya to promise me ya won’t ask yer pa to come to the soddy.”

  “But—” Tarah stopped at Ben’s pleading glance. She nodded. “I promise.”

  With his arm still firmly about Laney’s shoulders, Ben steered her out the door and limped away. Tarah watched as the two bravely headed through the freshly fallen snow in the direction of the soddy. When they were out of sight, she pressed her hands to her face and wept.

  ❧

  The sound of thundering hooves accompanied the thud of Anthony’s ax as he brought it down hard, splitting a log in two.

  He straightened up and swiped an arm across his sweaty brow, glancing toward the cloud of dust headed in his direction. Recognizing Tarah, he dropped the ax and ran toward her, his heart hammering against his chest.

  Abby skidded to a halt a mere foot from him. One glance at Tarah’s tear-streaked face confirmed something was horribly wrong.

  She slid into his outstretched arms and clung to him, babbling nonsensical words that were muffled by his shoulder. Heart in his throat, Anthony held her, stroking her hair while she sobbed. When the tears were spent, she pulled away until he held her at arms’ length.

  “What is it?” he asked and fished a handkerchief—which he’d started carrying after the first time she’d wept in his arms—from his shirt pocket. He pressed the cloth into her hands.

  “Thank you,” she said, lips trembling.

  Anthony gathered her close to his side with one arm about her shoulders and steered her toward the house. When they reached the porch, he motioned for her to sit. She sank onto the step and twisted the handkerchief in her hands until her knuckles grew white.

  Dropping next to her, Anthony waited while she drew a ragged breath, then spoke, her voice thick with tears. “Mr. Jenkins came back and took Ben and Laney away.”

  Dread engulfed Anthony. “When?”

  “Just after school today.”

  “I thought we’d seen the last of Jenkins.”

  “So did I,” Tarah replied glumly. She turned to him, her violet-colored eyes wide with fright. “What if he takes them away where we can’t look out for them?”

  “If the man has any sense at all, he won’t go anywhere with winter setting in.” Anthony wasn’t at all sure Jenkins had a lick of sense, but it was the least he could say to try to relieve Tarah’s fears. By the dubious expression on her face, Anthony knew she was thinking the same thing.

  “That’s not too reassuring, Anthony,” she said.

  “I know.”

  With a groan, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

  Anthony felt his senses reeling at the lavender scent of her hair, the sweet warmth of her cheek through his shirt. He drew a breath and exhaled slowly, willing the moment to last forever. “Have you spoken with your pa yet?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  He felt her shake her head. “Ben made me promise not to. I came straight here from school.”

  “Why would Ben make you promise such a thing?” Anthony asked, his heart soaring at the knowledge she had come to him for help.

  A shrug lifted her slim shoulders. “He doesn’t feel right putting Pa in that position. A–and he quoted the verse about children obeying their parents.” She raised her head and captured his gaze. “Honestly, Anthony. Sometimes I think Ben is the oldest person I know.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. That boy is special. I wouldn’t doubt it if he becomes a preacher someday.” He slapped his thigh in a moment of decision. “I’m going to go talk to Jenkins.”

  “Oh, Anthony.” Tarah smiled through her tears. “I hoped you would.”

  He regarded her warmly. “All you had to do was ask. I told you once before I’d do anything for you.”

  Twin pink spots appeared on her cheeks, and she pulled away, ducking her head. “You’re a true friend. But this isn’t for me.” She stood and met his gaze, determination sparking in her eyes. “We have to do this for Ben and Laney.”

  Anthony shot to his feet. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

  “I’m going with you, obviously.”

  “I don’t think so, Tarah. No telling how Jenkins might react.”

  Planting her hands firmly on her hips, Tarah sized him up, ready for a fight. “If you’re going, so am I, Anthony Greene. Those children are as dear to me as my own flesh and blood. If I had a husband, I’d adopt them as my own, so don’t you dare try to stop me.”

  “I’ll marry you,” he drawled. He searched her face, trying to gauge her reaction. “Then we can adopt them together.”

  Tarah scowled. “Very amusing, but I’m sure Louisa Thomas would have plenty to say about that.”

  Anthony was about to set her straight about his lack of romantic feelings toward Louisa, but she gave him no chance to speak.

  “And don’t think you’ll marry her and adopt them if their pa agrees to let them go. Laney doesn’t care too much for Louisa. I doubt she would want to live with her.”

  “And no one’s making her do anything she doesn’t want to do.” Anthony chuckled to hide the sting as the truth of Tarah’s feelings rammed into his gut once again.

  A smile lifted the edges of Tarah’s lips. “She’s so special. Ben, too.” A look of urgency filled her eyes. “Let’s get going, Anthony. I don’t want them to have to spend one night under the same roof as that wretched man.”

  Anthony followed as she headed toward the barn, obviously intent on getting Dodger saddled.

  “I’m still not crazy about their lack of respect for their pa,” he said. “Even if he is a no-account.”

  Tarah sniffed and glanced back over her shoulder. “I think they showed a great amount of respect by going back to him. I wanted them to hide out at the ranch while Pa tried to talk Jenkins into letting them go.”

  Anthony grinned and shook his head. “The man who marries you will have his hands full. I’ll pray for him.”

  Tarah threw him a cheeky grin. “And you proposed just five minutes ago. Bet you’re glad I didn’t take you seriously.”

  But I was serious. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d have me. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back just in time. Why humiliate himself any more than necessary? Besides, they had other things to attend to at the moment. If it’s Your will those children leave their pa, please give me the wisdom to know what to say.

  Twelve

  Tarah’s thoughts whirled with “what ifs” as she and Anthony road to the Jenkinses’ in relative silence. What if Anthony had been serious and really wanted to marry her? What if Laney and Ben could be their very own children? Then a bleak thought entered her mind. What if Mr. Jenkins refused to let the children go?

  Tarah stiffened as they approached the soddy. The door was already off its hinges, another tattered blanket hanging from the doorframe. Several bottles littered the yard. Tarah stared in disbelief and disgust. And the man had only been back for one day!

  They reined in their horses and dismounted as Mr. Jenkins stepped through the doorway, his fingers wrapped firmly around a half-empty bottle.

  Laney darted around her pa. A cautious smile lit her face. “Howdy, Tarah, Preacher.”

  Roughly grabbing her skinny arm, Jenkins pulled her back toward the door. “Git inside, Gal,” he said. Lifting a booted foot, he kicked her backside, then stumbled against the outside wall.

  “That does it, Anthony,” Tarah hissed. “If he refuses to let me have Laney and Ben, we’ll wait until he passes out drunk, then steal them away.”

  Anthony reached out and lightly pressed Tarah’s shoulder. “Let me do the talking, all right?”

  “All right, but if he doesn’t listen, we’re doing it my way.
I couldn’t live with myself if I left those children in that horrid man’s clutches.”

  Anthony gathered in a deep breath and plastered a smile on his handsome face. “Afternoon, Jenkins. When did you get back in town? We’ve been wondering about you.”

  Tarah gaped. Why was Anthony bothering with small talk? Get to the point, she inwardly urged.

  Mr. Jenkins snorted. “Been expectin’ company. Course I figgered it’d be her pa,” he said, waving the bottle in Tarah’s direction. “Yer wastin’ yer time, Preacher. Them’s my young’uns, and I don’ aim to be givin’ ’em away.”

  Tarah couldn’t hold back. She shook off Anthony’s restraining embrace and stepped forward. “Please, Mr. Jenkins. This is no life for Laney and Ben.”

  Tipping the bottle, Jenkins took a swig, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His lips twisted into a cruel sneer. “Yer kind,” he spat. “All the time thinkin’ yer so much better’n me. Always thinkin’ I don’ do right by my young’uns.” His bold, dark gaze raked over her, and Tarah felt the urge to duck behind Anthony.

  As if feeling her discomfort, Anthony drew her close to his side.

  “You and folks jus’ like ya, all the time comin’ around in yer fancy clothes an’ holier-’n-thou attitudes. Well, Teacher Lady, I don’ need the likes a you a-tellin’ me how to live.”

  Tarah’s temper flared, and she stepped away from Anthony once again. She planted her feet to give herself courage and drew herself up as tall as she could. “Frankly, Mr. Jenkins,” she said, meeting his steely gaze head on. “It’s immaterial to me how you live your life. You can drink yourself into a roaring drunk and stay there if you wish. But I love Laney and Ben a great deal. And if you care anything at all for them, you’ll let me have them.”

  “I don’ give nothin’ away for free, Girlie.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Iffen you catch my meanin’.”

  Tarah gasped, and her mouth dropped. The scoundrel was offering to sell his own children! Disbelief quickly became revulsion at the very thought. Then elation set in. She mentally calculated the money she had saved from her two months of teaching. She still had most of it. Almost fifty dollars.