Whispers of the Wind

by Frances Devine

  When they were seated in the smoke-filled room, Carter cleared his throat. “Dr. Quincy, before I say what’s on my mind, I’d like for you to know I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought.”

  Wishing the man would get to the point, Trent nodded and smiled. “Very well, Mr. Carter. I’ll take your word for that.”

  “I want to assure you what I’m doing doesn’t reflect on you or anyone in this school whatsoever. It is strictly a personal decision based on my desire to do what is best for both me and the school. I sincerely regret doing this so suddenly and without giving proper notice.”

  A pang of dread stabbed at Trent’s stomach. Surely it wasn’t what it sounded like. Surely the man wouldn’t abandon ship without warning.

  “I fear, sir, I must resign my position as director of this school immediately.”

  eleven

  Surely the man wasn’t serious. Trent took a deep breath, determined not to lose his temper. “So you are leaving with no notice at all?”

  Regret crossed Carter’s face. “I’ll be leaving in two weeks. My new employers wish me to begin right away. I can assure you I’ve made certain all books and records are up to date and in order. You should be able to handle things until you find a replacement.”

  Trent stared in disbelief, his lips clamped shut. This wasn’t what he’d have expected from the proper and staid Joshua Carter.

  “You haven’t forgotten, sir, that you signed a contract?”

  “Of course not.” He rubbed his knuckle across a spot over his right eye. “I will, of course, return my recent wages for the last half of this semester.”

  For a moment Trent was angry enough to agree, but decided to ignore the comment. “Mr. Carter, can you give me a reason for this action? Were you that angry that Miss James went over your head about the sign language and that I agreed with her?”

  Carter steepled his fingers and appeared deep in thought. “Not anger. But I suppose indirectly it contributed to my decision.” He sighed. “Very well, Dr. Quincy. I suppose you deserve more of an explanation.”

  Trent leaned back in his chair and waited for the man to continue.

  Carter closed his eyes and breathed slowly. Finally he sat up straight. “I had a son named Michael. A spirited and willful boy who could charm you one moment and try your patience the next. He was deaf in one ear. It didn’t seem to affect him a lot. He’d sleep on his good ear, so noises wouldn’t wake him.” He smiled. “Of course it was a perfect excuse not to hear anything he preferred not to.”

  “He married young, when he was only twenty. He and his wife, Jane, had two children. A daughter named Rose and a son they named Joshua, after me.”

  Carter stood and paced the floor behind his desk. Finally he propped both hands on the edge of the desk and stared at Trent with pain-filled eyes.

  “They were coming over to our place one Sunday after church when, for some reason, their carriage overturned. Jane was dozing and it happened so fast she had no idea what happened. Rose and Jane escaped with only a few scratches. Little Joshua’s leg was caught beneath the carriage, and he was left lame. Michael was thrown from the carriage. His head struck a rock, and he died instantly.”

  Horrified Trent sprang from his chair and placed his hand on the older man’s arm. “My dear Mr. Carter, I am so sorry for your pain.”

  Carter sank into his chair, breathing deeply. “I’m afraid I didn’t handle things well. I couldn’t bear to remain where every memory included Michael. Every glance at my wife reminded me of our son. Every smile or tear from one of my grandchildren brought back thoughts of Michael. Especially Joshua. He’s the spitting image of his father.”

  Trent frowned. “Of course. I understand. But surely you don’t mean you abandoned your family.”

  “I’m afraid that’s exactly what I did.” He wiped his hand across his eyes, as if in doing so he could eradicate the memories. “Oh, not financially. I’ve always provided for them. And I visit once or twice a year.”

  “And now? Is something wrong at home?”

  Carter sat up straight. “Only the fact that I’ve failed my family for the past seven years.” Another sigh escaped his lips. “I thought by helping deaf children, I could somehow ease the pain of Michael’s death. To my grief, it worked the other way. I came to resent the children here for not being Michael. I’ve held back from getting to know them. Surely you’ve noticed I had little to do with anything but the financial business.”

  Trent returned to his chair. “I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t notice until recently. The school always ran smoothly, and the children seemed well and happy.”

  “Yes, well you can thank the rest of your staff for the latter.” He drummed his fingers on the smooth surface of his desk. “The staff is first-rate, you know. Including Miss James. I must admit I was wrong about the sign language class, and I fear my decision to disregard her request to add Braille to Lily Ann’s studies may also have been in error.”

  “But, Mr. Carter, I still don’t understand what made you suddenly decide to leave?”

  “A number of things. When I saw the mistake I’d made about the sign language, I began to question my connection with the needs of the students. I finally faced the fact that I was here for all the wrong reasons.” He smiled and something close to a twinkle flashed in his eyes. “Then Virgie’s little grandson, by some miracle, took a liking to me. And suddenly, I realized I’d not only deprived my grandchildren of me, but I’d also deprived myself of them.”

  He took a deep breath. “Not to mention my dear wife and sweet daughter-in-law. So you see, I can’t waste a moment. I need to go to them as soon as possible and attempt to make amends. I only hope I haven’t waited too long.”

  “I’m sure you haven’t, sir. And I don’t blame you one bit.” Trent smiled. “And of course, I wouldn’t think of letting you return your wages. You have more than earned them through the years, I’m sure.”

  “That’s very kind of you. But I’ll feel better if you’ll accept it. Perhaps it could be my contribution to the expense of Braille supplies.”

  Trent turned and glanced out the window. There it was again. Braille. And now Mr. Carter seemed to feel it should be added.

  He rose. “I wish you the best with your new job and reconciliation with your family. If there is anything I can do to help you prepare for your journey, please let me know.”

  He shook the director’s hand and left. He sympathized with Carter’s decision, but how in the world could he take on these added duties? He had no doubt the staff would help all they could, but the business and financial tasks would fall into his realm of responsibility.

  Well, c’est la vie, as his grandmother used to say. And she was right. That truly was life.

  ❧

  Abigail paid little attention to the delicious supper Selma had prepared. She listened in horror as Trent told them about the destruction of the Taneys’ home. Lily Ann had been right. There were bad sounds in the wind. And from what Trent was telling them, it seemed likely the same twister that destroyed their neighbor’s house and barn could have just as easily struck the school. Her chest tightened at the thought. Dear God, what use is a storm cellar if the funnel cloud could hit us without any warning?

  Mr. Carter had joined them for supper and informed them of his imminent departure. Abigail sat stunned. Was it her fault? Had she been such a nuisance to the man she’d driven him away? She must apologize. But what could she say? She couldn’t pretend he was right about the curriculum.

  She turned and met a concerned look in Trent’s eyes. Well, it was no wonder he was concerned. Who would take Mr. Carter’s place as director on such short notice?

  After dinner she followed the director to his office and cleared her throat before he could shut the door.

  “Yes, Miss James?” His voice wasn’t exactly kind, but at least it was less gruff than usual.

  “Mr. Carter, if I’ve done or said anything that caused you to resign your position, I apol
ogize and beg you to reconsider.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

  His face softened momentarily then he stiffened. “No, my decision had nothing to do with you, Miss James. And I’m the one who should apologize. I spoke unkindly to you without cause. Even though I thought I was right about the signing class, I could have been more courteous. And as it turns out, I was in error. The sign language class is most beneficial. I’ve told Dr. Quincy as much, as well as my opinion that Lily Ann could most likely benefit from learning Braille. Of course, the decision is entirely up to him.”

  Abigail blinked back tears. “Thank you for telling me that, Mr. Carter. It means a lot to me. And I know I could have been more courteous as well. I can sometimes be quite headstrong.”

  He gave a slight smile. “Well, I hold nothing against you. After all, you’re young.”

  Peace flowed through her, and she smiled. “Yes, I am. Good night, Mr. Carter.”

  “Good night, my dear.”

  With lightness in her steps she walked back to the foyer. The sound of music drew her to the parlor where she found Trent seated at the piano. The tune he was playing was one of her favorites, so she tiptoed in and sat just inside the door. His hands were visible from where she sat, and she admired his strong fingers as they drew the music from the keys. Her glance drifted from his hands to his profile, and her fingers longed to run across his forehead and through the thick waves of his hair.

  The music stopped, and she gasped and jumped up. He turned, surprise in his eyes as they rested on her.

  “Abigail. Oh, forgive me.” Consternation crossed his face. “Miss James, I meant.”

  “It’s quite all right if you wish to call me by my given name. We’re all informal here, you know, as long as the children aren’t around. I don’t mind.”

  “Then you must also call me Trent.”

  “Oh no, Dr. Quincy. I couldn’t possibly. But perhaps Dr. Trent as the others call you.”

  “As you wish.”

  She was almost sure she detected a trace of disappointment in his voice.

  “I didn’t know you could play the piano. It was beautiful.” She paused, suddenly embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind that I listened.”

  “Not at all since you enjoyed it.” He smiled. “Would you like to hear another?”

  “Oh yes. If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” He pulled a chair up beside the piano stool. “Here, sit beside me and you can turn the pages for me.”

  “All right. I used to do that for my father. He plays, too.”

  As he played a familiar tune, she began to hum.

  He nodded. “Let’s sing.”

  She reached to turn the page of the hymnal, and so did he. Their hands touched, and a tingle went through her fingers and up her arm. She jerked her hand back.

  “Sorry. I’m so used to turning the pages myself, I forgot.” His eyes were warm as he smiled at her.

  They sang song after song, their voices blending together perfectly. Suddenly the clock on the mantel chimed. She glanced at the watch on the chain around her neck and gasped. “Oh my, I had no idea it was so late.” She rose, feeling a little dizzy. “Thank you for sharing your music with me, Dr. Trent.”

  He stood and took her hand. “It was my pleasure, Abigail.” He looked deeply into her eyes.

  “Good night.” She turned and sailed out of the room and up the stairs, her heart pounding. What on earth was the matter with her? It was almost as if she were attracted to the doctor, and of course that was nonsense. She wasn’t even sure she liked him.

  But as she prepared for bed, the thought crossed her mind that this was the first time they’d been alone together and hadn’t talked school business. And it had been very nice.

  ❧

  Trent hummed one hymn after another as he rode home, his heart lighter than he could remember it being for a long time.

  Who would have thought the opinionated Miss Abigail James could be so charming. Quite beautiful, too.

  He grinned as he recalled the blush that had washed over her as their hands accidentally touched. He’d been slightly attracted to her before, but tonight, he had to admit, he’d been dazzled. Her auburn curls, hanging loose across her shoulder, had brushed against his arm on more than one occasion, and the gold in her eyes had sparkled like stars.

  He chuckled and urged Warrior to speed up. Since when had his thoughts become poetic?

  Perhaps it wasn’t going to be so bad having to spend more time at the school. Reality hit. The school. He’d need to begin a search for another director right away. His patients couldn’t be allowed to suffer. He’d simply need to fit the school business in between his patients, because the patients had to come before business. Virgie would send for him if he was really needed at the school.

  He sighed. Well, he’d had this evening to relax and enjoy himself. It might possibly be the last for a while.

  His conversation with Carter ran through his mind, and sympathy shot through him. The man must have been in misery all the time he’d been director here. But there was a definite change in him today. He’d been almost kind and apologetic. And had admitted he’d been wrong about the sign language class. Of course, he’d also said he’d been wrong about adding a Braille class for Lily Ann, but Trent wasn’t so sure about that. He’d have to think about it. Perhaps, when he found a new director and wasn’t so busy, he’d make a trip to St. Louis and check out that school. Find out firsthand just how beneficial Braille might or might not be to Lily Ann. But he’d never give up on finding a way to restore her sight.

  By the time he reached home, he realized his thoughts had become such a jumble nothing was making sense to him. He went to the kitchen and heated up the coffee that stood waiting on the stove. Maybe it would help clear the fog away until he was ready for bed.

  He carried a cup of coffee to the study and sat at his desk. Taking out stationery, he composed an advertisement for a new director. He’d send it to all the newspapers in the area as well as the universities within a reasonable distance. Georgia was still recovering from the war. People were more inclined to seek employment in the northern states. He mentioned the scenery and the peaceful countryside and indicated that the salary was more than adequate.

  He wrote several copies. When he’d finished, he had a stack of envelopes ready to take to the post office the next day. He could only hope and pray that the right person would respond, and they’d be available in the near future.

  Yawning, he climbed the stairs to his bedroom and got ready for bed. A long, deep sleep was just what he needed. Hopefully he’d awaken with a clear head. He drifted off to sleep with the thought of Abigail’s pink-tipped fingers brushing against his, and her sweet voice singing praises.

  twelve

  The next few days seemed hotter than ever to Abigail after the brief respite. Even the children seemed lethargic in the oppressive heat and the stillness of the air. Finally one evening as they sat in the parlor, Charles suggested a nature walk.

  Helen’s face lit. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  Charles nodded. “We can make it a science project.”

  “And combine it with a sign language lesson.” Abigail glanced at the other two to see if they’d agree.

  “And more.” Helen laughed. “We can have them draw pictures and write an essay about the vegetation and insects they discover.”

  “We could make a group project.” Abigail scrunched up her forehead in thought. “How about if they each make a little book with their essay and pictures, and perhaps some leaves pasted in, as a gift for their parents?”

  “Yes.” Helen sat on the edge of her seat. “They can present them when their parents come get them for the Christmas vacation.”

  “Oh.” Abigail glanced from Helen to Charles. “I didn’t realize the children go home for Christmas.”

  Helen nodded. “We usually put on a little program then have a gift exchange. We end the day with a special meal at one o’clock. Then the ch
ildren go home with their parents.”

  “All of them?”

  Charles scowled. “So far. Although one year, Sonny’s family didn’t show up for hours after the other children had left.”

  Helen placed a hand on his arm. “Calm down. At least they got here. And Sonny was so happy to see his mother.”

  “And his father?” Abigail hoped Helen would say yes.

  “Sonny’s father was killed in a brawl a few years ago. His mother lives with her brother, who doesn’t seem to want to be bothered much with Sonny.”

  “Poor Sonny. Does he know?”

  “I don’t see how he could help it.” Charles frowned. “But his mother is getting married this spring, and her fiancé seems like a good man. I think he’ll treat Sonny well.”

  After this brighter note, they cheered up and scheduled the field trip for the following day, directly after the morning classes. They’d ask Cook to prepare a picnic basket, and they would eat lunch by the creek.

  “We should probably get permission from Mr. Carter.” Abigail’s suggestion surprised her as much as it did the other two. Now that he was leaving, they hardly saw him except at the supper meal.

  “You’re right. Even though he hasn’t involved himself in anything this week, he’s still officially in charge until next Monday.” Charles glanced from Helen to Abigail. “I suppose I’ll see if he’s in his office.”

  Abigail grinned. She should probably offer to ask permission of Mr. Carter, but Charles was looking at her so expectantly, she decided to make him do it. After all, she had already made her peace with Mr. Carter. She wasn’t about to rock the boat.

  “Oh. All right.” Charles stood and left.

  Helen giggled. “It’ll be good for him.”

  “My thoughts, too. After all, we’ve all had our grievances with the director. Now that we know his story, we need to send him off in peace, with no hard feelings on our part.”

  Charles returned shortly, an expression of pleased relief on his face. “He was quite nice. Actually, I’d say downright affable.”