A Teaching Touch (Tales From Biders Clump Book 4)

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A Teaching Touch (Tales From Biders Clump Book 4) Page 5

by Danni Roan


  “Cinnamon rolls.” Rupert sounded suddenly interested again. “Is it a family recipe?” he asked, taking one of the offered treats.

  “No, just one I learned to make a long time ago.”

  “What do you think, Ms. Adams?” Rupert asked, looking at Prissy as she bit into her own cinnamon roll.

  “Mmm,” she mumbled through the gooey bite.

  “Are you finished?” Grady asked, looking at Rebecca’s now empty plate, “I thought you might enjoy a walk in the sunshine.”

  “That would be lovely.” Rebecca replied, looking around to see if anyone thought she should stay.

  “Go on Becky,” Sara spoke up. “It’s a lovely day and we’re having a rest. It will be good for you.”

  Grady hauled himself to his feet and offered her his hand, pulling her up beside him. In the distance, they could hear the children playing, their laughter filling the grove and surrounding area with joy.

  As she walked along on Grady’s arm, Rebecca saw couples strolling and groups of men and woman enjoying their own picnics. Pastor Dalton could be seen sitting with a large family laughing and talking.

  “Is everyone in Biders Clump so friendly?” she asked absently.

  “Mostly. We have a few who keep to themselves, but for the most part we seem to come together.” He raised his hand in greeting as a dark cowboy and redheaded woman passed them. “Before long you’ll know everyone here.”

  “It’s very different in the big city,” Rebecca commented. “People are all so busy they don’t have much time for their neighbors.”

  Grady suddenly jerked to a stop, pulling Rebecca to a halt with him as Billy Stanley slammed into his legs.

  “Hey Mr. Gatlin,” the boy smiled up at them. “You showin’ Ms. Rebecca around?”

  “I am,” Grady replied.

  “Are you courting her now?” the boy’s question made Rebecca blush.

  “No, we’re not courting, but we are friends.”

  “Friends?” the boy’s tone was incredulous.

  “Yes, Billy, boys and girls can be friends.”

  “No they can’t.” Billy shook his blonde head emphatically, “Girls have cooties.” He screwed up his face with his last words, clearly illustrating his feelings.

  “But I thought you said Ms. Rebecca didn’t have cooties?” Grady’s eyes sparkled with delight.

  “Well, she’s mighty pretty,” the boy acquiesced. He turned, looking at Rebecca with a grin. “Mr. Grady, do ya think I could court Ms. Rebecca?” he asked in a loud whisper.

  Grady Gatlin rubbed the smile away from his lips and looked seriously at his youngest pupil. “You can’t ask me that, Billy,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

  “Why not? You always say I can ask ya anything.” The boy looked puzzled.

  “I can’t answer,” Grady offered. “If you want to court a woman, you have to ask her.”

  Billy looked at Rebecca, his sun-kissed face serious and bashful all at once.

  “Whata’ ya say Ms. Rebecca, can I court you?” he asked.

  “Hm,” Rebecca mused her eyes bright with cheer as she played along with Mr. Gatlin’s trend. “Do you think your pa would mind you courting an older woman?” she asked.

  “I don’t reckon Pa’d care. Sometimes I think he’d like it just fine if I got married and moved out.”

  “And when would you be able to call?” Rebecca continued.

  “Well I could come by after school for a bit, but I can’t stay ‘cause I’ve got chores and such.”

  “I see. Do you think your Ma will be alright with that arrangement?” Rebecca could no longer contain her smile.

  “Well, Ma might not like it, she likes me pretty good, I guess.”

  Rebecca tapped her lips with the tip of her finger as if thinking through the boy’s proposal. “I suppose it would be alright if you call on me, though I’m not sure about the age difference.”

  Billy’s face lit up with wonder. “Gee wilikers,” he said in awe. “Wait till my brothers hear,” he finished, then dashed off toward the other children dancing around a group of trees.

  Grady could not contain himself any longer and let out a guffaw of laughter. “I believe congratulations are in order,” he said, offering a mock bow.

  Rebecca laughed as well, touching her hair as if primping for a beau. “A girl does like to be noticed,” she continued with a giggle.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by as Grady walked Rebecca around the area behind the church and down near a small stream. The warm sun seeped into her, filling her soul with warmth and companionship.

  Chapter 5

  Over the next week, Rebecca fell into an easy routine at the boarding house. A few guests stopped for the night on their way west and complemented her cooking as well as the comfortable accommodations.

  She found mornings one of her favorite times as a comfortable comradery developed between her and Grady. He was usually up early, preparing his lessons and getting a good fire going in the cook stove. Rebecca was sure it did not fall into his job description, but she appreciated the thoughtfulness just the same.

  “What are you onto today?” she asked, entering the kitchen before the sun had kissed the Eastern sky.

  “The younger children are working on reading a selection of stories while the older ones have history. The oldest Stanley boy, Johnnie, is even working on advanced math. I don’t mind telling you he’s keeping me on my toes, that one. I was up rather late studying the lesson myself last night.”

  “Those children are bright and curious, aren’t they?” Rebecca asked, pulling an apron over her head and tying it at the back. “I think it’s one of the reasons Billy gets himself in a mess so often,” she added with a smile.

  “Yes, keeping that boy out of trouble is a full-time job,” Grady agreed with a chuckle. “Yesterday I had to put him in the corner for making Mary-Beth Meyers cry.”

  “Oh, no, what did he do?” She turned, looking at the teacher seriously as she began whisking eggs in a bowl.

  “Apparently, he told her he couldn’t marry her because he was going to marry you.”

  “He didn’t?” Rebecca gasped.

  Grady nodded his head in the affirmative. “It seems she told the other girls that when she grew up she would marry Billy because he’s so good with a sling shot.” Rebecca’s laugh made the big man smile. “When Billy found out, he told her to stop saying such things ‘cause he’d never marry her, she had cooties and besides he was gonna marry you.”

  Together the adults laughed half in horror.

  “I rather hope he’ll grow out of his little crush soon,” Rebecca admitted, still smiling. It was easy to smile with Mr. Gatlin.

  “I wouldn’t count on it for a while,” Grady offered. “He’s got his mind set on you, and who can blame him?” He chuckled again, but the words hit Rebecca hard.

  According to her mother, she was no use as a wife to any man with her weak health and weaker faith.

  Turning back to the stove to cover her chagrin, she poured the eggs into a skillet, stirring them absently with a spoon.

  “Oh, breakfast.” Rafe entered the kitchen, speaking through a huge yawn. “Is there coffee?”

  “Of course,” Rebecca said, reaching for a cup.

  “You go on, I’ll get it,” Rafe said, taking the cup and reaching for the large enameled coffee pot. “Just what I need before I head out.”

  “Is he rushing your breakfast again?” Sara asked, joining the trio. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He likes to be late so he can gallop Chester all the way to the ranch.” She giggled, offering the sandy haired cowboy a cheek for a morning kiss.

  “Chester likes it, too,” Rafe jibed defensively. “Just look at him out there, ready and rearing to go.”

  Together he and Sara looked out the kitchen window at the barnyard.

  “Looks to me like he’s lolly-gagging around, just like you,” Sara chirped, elbowing him in the ribs.

  “Lolly-gagging? Me? You
’re the one who’s supposed to be milking the cow.”

  Sara stuck her tongue out at him as she picked up the milk pail and headed out the door.

  Rebecca smiled as she transferred the eggs to a warming plate and started the bacon. The young couple, so happily married, reminded her of her sister Mary and her husband. Somehow, instead of making her sad, the thought gave her a feeling of contentment.

  “Grady, what are you working on today?” Rafe asked, swinging a leg over a chair.

  “More math for Johnnie.”

  “Maybe we should send him out to work with Quil,” Rafe offered. “She loves numbers and papers and writing and all that stuff. She keeps the books for the Rocking A, you know.”

  “Yes, I think someone mentioned that.”

  “She’s even offered to help my Pa if he ever needs it now, that the families are on speaking terms.”

  Rebecca turned around to look at Rafe. She hadn’t known of any trouble between the Adams and the Dixons.

  “It’s a long story,” Rafe offered, noting her questioning look, “simply accept that my Pa got the wrong end of the stick. He often does, you know, and it cause troubles.”

  Rebecca plated the bacon and turned to set the table. Apparently, even a nice little town like Biders Clump could have problems. Quietly she set the table, thinking of life’s strange turns.

  The back door opened and Sara returned, placing the now-full pail by the sink. “Ready so fast?” she said, washing her hands. “You’re spoiling us all,” she added, smiling at Rebecca. “After breakfast, I’ll make up some butter, then we’ll go to the store.”

  “I don’t think we need anything right now,” Rebecca answered, looking puzzled. “Supplies should last for quite a while.”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you I’ve invited guests?” Sara looked abashed.

  “No, but I’m sure that will be fine. We have plenty of time to get organized.”

  “Who’s coming?” Grady asked as he fixed his plate.

  “Bruno and Janine.” Sara blushed slightly. “I thought that with only the few of us here, they might like to socialize a bit.”

  As everyone settled at the table and began to eat, the women put their heads together and started talking about dinner and what they should make for dessert.

  “I think we’re going to make out pretty good on this one,” Rafe said slyly to Grady.

  ***

  “Oh good grief, there’s Prissy again,” Sara said, watching her sister amble down the street on her horse, Sugar.

  “Priscilla Adams, aren’t you ever at home anymore?” she asked as they pulled abreast each other.

  “I’m home most of the time, I’ll have you know.” Prissy jutted her chin hotily. “If you remember however, I do have a standing order for jams and jellies at the Grist Mill.” Her eyes darted in the direction of the small restaurant, a softness settling over her face as they did.

  Sara looked at Rebecca and raised a brow.

  “Besides, Mama went for a drive with Harlan this morning. He drove around and told her it was too nice a day to stay shut up in the house.”

  “Harlan?” Sara gaped. “You mean he’s not working with the men today?”

  “Apparently not.” Prissy shrugged. “I’m sure Rafe and the men can do without him for a day.”

  Sara shook her head. “I suppose it’s better than the two of them pitching a fit every time they see each other in town. Apparently broken friendships can be mended.”

  “Where are you off to this morning?” Prissy finally asked.

  “We’re headed to the store. Bruno and Janine are coming over for dinner tonight and Rebecca and I want a few last-minute items to make it nice.”

  “What’s for dessert?” Prissy leaned forward, making her saddle creak as her eyes sparkled curiously.

  “We haven’t decided yet,” Rebecca remarked. They had discussed several things but had not settled on one yet.

  “Rupert makes a wonderful apple pie with raisins and nuts in it,” Prissy suggested. “If you don’t feel like baking you can pop by and purchase one of those.”

  Sara and Rebecca exchanged glances, but didn’t say a word.

  “I’d better get on,” Prissy finally said. “I’ll stop for tea if I have time, but I think I’m going to have to show the cook at the Grist Mill how to make that baked spinach again. Apparently, people didn’t like it all that well this week.” Without a second glance, she kicked up Sugar and left.

  “Your sister is very industrious,” Rebecca commented as they started off toward the store once more.

  “She loves to cook,” Sara offered. “For that matter, she loves to eat.”

  “It’s no wonder she and the young Englishman are good friends, then.”

  “I suppose so. Prissy has always been more interested in food than anything else anyways,” Sara finished as they entered the store.

  ***

  “I think everything is ready.” Rebecca looked around the kitchen at the food that was simply waiting its turn in the oven.

  “Yes, we’ve got it all organized. I’m so glad Polly and George have an icebox. It makes preparing a meal so much easier,” Sara agreed. “Now I’ll mix up the cake. Don’t tell Prissy, but I’m not that fond of apple pie.”

  “Oh, dear.” Rebecca muttered, peering into a dark corner of the counter top. “Mr. Gatlin has forgotten his lunch again.”

  “Has he done that before?” Sara questioned.

  “I’m afraid so, and he never comes back for it. I think he’s afraid to leave the children for too long.” Rebecca scowled, thinking. “I’ll just run it over to the schoolhouse for him.” She looked to Sara for confirmation.

  “That’s a lovely idea.” Sara smiled. “I’ll be here anyway and we have very little left to do this afternoon. We’ll even have fresh butter for the rolls tonight.”

  Rebecca smiled at her young friend. Sara seemed to be enjoying her time at the boarding house. It was nice to have a friend.

  “Alright, but I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Rebecca washed her hands, hung her apron on a peg and picked up the napkin-covered tin pail.

  A light breeze kicked up dust as she walked along the main street of town toward the schoolhouse. The simple, one-room structure was nestled snuggly in a clearing beneath a group of tall oaks.

  The schoolyard was buzzing with the laughter and activity of children. Older ones could be seen talking in small groups, and many younger ones raced around, playing tag.

  Rebecca smiled as she watched them for a few moments. It made her think of the many blessings she for which she had to be thankful. So many children did not even have enough to eat, let alone an education. Learning was a true gift and not something to be taken lightly.

  Slowly she walked up the stairs, enjoying the sounds of merriment around her.

  The door stood open and she could see Grady sitting at a long desk, surrounded by papers.

  Rebecca hesitated, not sure if she should knock, but as she lifted her hand, the teacher raised his head and offered a big smile.

  “Ms. Carol.” His eyes were bright and welcoming. “What brings you here today?” He stood, inviting her in with a sweep of his hand.

  “I’m afraid you forgot your lunch again,” Rebecca offered, her eyes taking in the airy room. Windows on either side of the structure allowed natural light to illuminate each small desk and chair, where slates and books sat neatly stacked awaiting pupils.

  Behind Mr. Gatlin’s desk, a large blackboard covered most of the wall, while charts and maps decorated the rest. In the back corner, a small stove puffed away at a coffee pot.

  “You didn’t have to come all the way out here to bring me my lunch,” Grady replied, secretly delighted that she would bothered. “It never hurts me to skip a meal.”

  Rebecca smiled. “Well since I went to the trouble of making it, I thought perhaps you would be kind enough to eat it.”

  Grady chuckled and pulled a pupil’s chair around for her to sit. “Won’t you s
tay a while?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

  “I think the interruption would be welcome. I never seem to finish with the grading.” He gestured to the piles of paper. “I’d love nothing better than completely forget about spelling.”

  “How many students are there?” Rebecca asked, trying to count the desks.

  “We’ve got thirty-five now.”

  “That’s a large class.”

  “Yes, but the older children help out, especially with younger siblings.”

  “Do you think there will ever be a call for a second teacher here?” she asked, thinking of her very formal early education.

  “It’s possible, but for now we’re getting on. Most of the students don’t cause too much trouble; they know their parents won’t stand for it. It makes it easier to concentrate on the learning.”

  The sound of shouting drifted through the door as loud voices echoed into the little room. Grady was on his feet and moving quicker than could have been expected of the big man.

  Rising, Rebecca scurried to keep up with him.

  “You take it back.” Billy Stanley stood in the schoolyard, fist raised. “You take it back or I’ll hit ya again.” His little face was red and his eyes fierce.

  “Whoa, whoa, now.” Grady’s voice was firm but gentle. “What’s going on here?” he asked, wrapping his big hand around the boy's small one.

  “Toby said you was gonna marry Ms. Rebecca and he laughed when I told him I was gonna marry Ms. Rebecca.”

  “Why’s she bringin’ Mr. Gatlin his lunch if she ain’t sweet on him, then?” Toby, a boy at least three years older than Billy said, still holding a hand over his cheek that was starting to show a bruise.

  “Tell ‘em Ms. Carol, you and me’s courtin,’ ain’t we.” Billy’s lip quivered with emotion and Rebecca’s heart skipped.

  “Billy and I have an agreement,” she finally said. “You see Mr. Gatlin and I are just friends and since I work at the boarding house where he lives I thought it was only right I make sure he had his lunch.”

  “See, told ya so,” Billy retorted.

 

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