“I could.”
“So long as you wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know I write stories. They might think me foolish. It’s a foolish pursuit, really. Isn’t it?”
“Not at all. Jesus told stories. We all learn from stories.” Olivia pointed at her satchel. “If people didn’t take the time to write stories, it would be difficult for me to entice children to learn to read, wouldn’t it?”
Hannah nodded then focused again on her sewing. After a moment she mumbled, “I never thought of it like that.”
The house fell silent, save for the occasional crackle of the log on the fire and the clip of scissors on thread. Olivia waited for Hannah to talk more, but she didn’t. Not for shyness, but natural reserve and relief to finally have peace at the end of the day. The quiet togetherness suited Olivia too. She could easily imagine being lifelong friends with Hannah.
The dog raised its head, and its ears moved as if it heard something outside. Olivia and Christopher exchanged a brief look, but he resumed his Bible reading, and she returned her eyes to the frayed seam in a shirt she assumed was his.
As the evening slipped into night, the pile of clothes to be mended dwindled, and Hannah yawned more frequently. Olivia studied her tired young face in the light of the lamp’s globe. “I can finish that last shirt. You should go to bed.”
“Are you sure?”
Olivia nodded. “You put in longer days than any other fourteen-year-old in the settlement.” She pointed at the perfectly sewn hem of a toddler-size dress. “And you’re an excellent seamstress.”
Christopher nestled a slip of paper into his Bible and closed it. “Goodnight, Hannah. I will walk Miss Owens home shortly. Keep the children upstairs, should they wake.”
After Hannah climbed the steps, Christopher paced to the mudroom door and peeled the tea towel away from the window. Moonlight poured across his face and deepened the lines at the outer corners of his eyes. The dog lifted its head and watched its master.
Once the upstairs door closed, Christopher quietly said, “I’m glad she asked you to read her story.”
“Me too. Have you read it?”
He shook his head. “She used to read it to her mother when no one else was in the room. I’d overhear parts, but I never mentioned it. Hannah’s very private, and it was something special they shared.”
Olivia finished sewing and folded the last shirt. As she set it aside, Christopher pointed at the lamps on the table. “Do you mind putting those out, please? I don’t want the thief to know we’re still up.”
Olivia complied and the only light left inside the house came from the gray leaf log burning slowly in the fireplace. She lifted her shawl from the back of the kitchen chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.
At once, the dog sprang up and scampered to the back door, whimpering.
She asked, “Does he hear someone?”
Christopher stood by the back window peering out. “No, he thinks you are leaving.”
She walked to the edge of the mudroom and sat on the top step. “How long should we wait?”
A faint smile reached Christopher’s eyes. “You haven’t tuckered out already, have you?”
“No, just curious.”
He un-tacked the tea towel, and moonlight filled the mudroom. He sat on the step beside her. “I don’t think it will be much longer.” The dog flopped down between them, and he petted it. “Are you having a miserable time tonight?”
“Not at all. I enjoy being with your family.”
“And this?” he asked, pointing at the window.
“I have never done anything like this before. It’s quite like spying, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
“Have you?”
“No, I’ve never spied. Unless you call watching children from the other room spying.” He inclined his head. “Does this make you nervous?”
“A bit.”
“Me too, but I’m rather enjoying it. Peculiar isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“I’m a father of six and an elder on our village council, yet I’m titillated by spying out my own window with the hope of confronting a milk thief.”
She chuckled quietly. “You deserve some happiness.”
“That’s too generous. I’m a widower. I’m not sure it’s proper that I find pleasure in anything just yet. When Susanna died, I thought I would never cease to mourn.” He looked at her then with eyes intense in the moonlight. “I feel alive when you are around. Younger somehow. You bring joy to my life, and I thought there never would be joy again. My children laugh and smile when you’re here. They adore you. I admire you and could easily find myself in love with you.”
A stiff knot tightened inside her stomach. “Mr. Vestal, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you will consider marrying me.”
She wrapped her arms under the corners of her shawl. “I’m in love with Gabriel.”
“Oh,” he said while his eyebrows rose a degree. “I didn’t know. I have never seen you two together.”
“We are… courting, I guess. It’s new to me. I’m not sure what to call it. And no, we don’t get much time together, but this is the first time I’ve ever been in love. And—”
“Please consider me.” His low voice took on a raw inflection, making him sound his age. “I need you. We need you.”
“I will help you and the children all I can, and the other ladies in the village will help too. I know it’s hard right now, but Hannah is managing the twins well, and Doris and Wade are learning to take care of themselves more.”
When he let out a long breath, she wanted to touch him to give comfort but feared the gesture might be misconstrued. She kept her hands beneath her shawl. “You don’t need me as much as you think you do.”
“If it’s the age difference, I don’t mind. My late wife was younger than me—only thirty-four and you are in your twenties. Surely that isn’t so great a difference.”
“Your eldest daughter is fourteen, and I am twenty. I’m closer to her age than Susanna’s. You are my father’s age. You’ve become like a father to me. Only, it’s easier for me to talk to you than my father, especially lately. I have come to admire you very much.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat there silently for one painful moment. Finally, he released it. “So you see me as a father-figure? Your own father ignored your request, and I took it upon myself. Is that where your admiration for me arose?”
Alas, her hand couldn’t be stilled any longer. She reached over the dog and pressed her palm to Christopher’s back. “No, it was your kindness that drew me. When no one else listened, you did. You asked about my days and showed you cared. I admire you greatly, but I am in love with Gabe. I never thought I had the capability and here I am truly sickeningly in love with him.”
He grinned faintly at her. “Well, if it makes you sick then it must be love.”
She patted his back and removed her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vestal, but I cannot replace your wife.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I understand… and I wish you the best. You deserve to be loved well. You are kind and wise and your children will one day rise up to call you blessed.” While she absorbed his gracious words, he held up a finger. “But if Gabriel breaks your heart, I will break his neck.”
She couldn’t imagine the kind Mr. Vestal turning violent no matter the provocation, but his sentiment was flattering. She offered a smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
At once, the dog growled and leapt down the steps toward the back door. Olivia and Christopher stood simultaneously and looked out the window. A lone figure stalked through the moonlit yard toward the barn, carrying a milk pail. A dark cloak hid the person’s body shape, but they didn’t move like a grown man. It was an adolescent boy or a woman, but Olivia couldn’t see the face. Maybe it was one of the Cotter children. Judah was only eleven. It could be him. Or maybe it was Frances. The person seemed too tall to be Edi
tha or Eveline, and the younger girls probably wouldn’t go out alone at night.
The person looked toward the house.
Olivia sucked in a breath and stepped away from the window. “Mrs. Cotter?”
“Cora? Of everyone I suspected, I most hoped she was not the thief.”
“But it is her. Look!”
“Yes, it is.” Christopher sighed with frustration. “I expected to see the older Cotter girls or some combination thereof.”
“Me too.”
“I was looking forward to letting the dog out to frighten them and telling them they must stop stealing.”
Her mouth was still agape as she watched Mrs. Cotter, who was now trying to shake open the barn door. Olivia’s delight in waiting to confront the thief was smothered by disappointment. “We cannot let the dog out to scare Mrs. Cotter.”
“No, we cannot.”
“But she must be stopped.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Teddy Cotter and I have been friends since I first moved to Accomack. Susanna was a maid at their wedding. She hated the way Cora’s attitude changed after we came to this land, but she would never have suspected this.”
“Why has Mrs. Cotter changed so much since the voyage?”
His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”
“Should we tell the reverend about this?”
“Not yet. I need to think this over and pray about it. We mustn’t cause division. Don’t mention any of this to anyone for now.”
“All right.” She wrapped her shawl tighter. “Mrs. Cotter must be stopped, but I don’t want to humiliate her.”
“Nor I.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall as they watched Mrs. Cotter struggle with the locked barn door. She finally gave up on the milk and marched to the chicken coop beside the barn.
Chapter Sixteen
Two rows of students sat on the sawdust-covered ground beside the unfinished schoolhouse. They watched as Gabe built a long narrow table that would serve as one of the desks for the classroom. Olivia stood behind the children, occasionally pacing from one end of their semi-circle to the other.
She hadn’t expected all of her students to attend the demonstration. It pleased her that a few of the parents had sent children who didn’t participate in school lessons, although the presence of the three older Cotter girls made her uneasy. Did they know their mother was a thief? Had they participated in her crimes, other than using and enjoying the stolen milk? Was that why they behaved so badly when she was at their house?
In the three weeks since she and Christopher had witnessed Mrs. Cotter trying to break into his barn, he hadn’t mentioned the incident to Olivia. Nor did he wait by the road for her when she went to his house for lessons, but what man wouldn’t behave differently after being rejected? Now when she went to teach the Vestal children, Christopher would wave from some far off point. She’d wave back and wish he would talk to her like he used to.
Today he had sent Doris and Wade to learn about furniture building, and David had come too. Even the Colburns had sent most of their brood.
The children sat close together and watched Gabe with eager delight. At different points in his demonstration, Gabe had the students pass around a wedge, then a chisel, then a mallet. All tools the children had seen before but were not usually encouraged to inspect.
Before he attached the finished tabletop to the skirt, Gabe moved the unattached top as if the table were talking to the children. Laughter rang into the cold air. His easy humor kept their attention and warmed Olivia’s heart. When he asked who would like to help drive in the final pins to join the wood, all of the older girls raised their hands.
He scanned the students as if contemplating his selection for his final volunteer and sent Olivia a rueful smile. “Maybe Miss Owens would be willing to come and show us what she has learned today.”
The students looked at her, and some of the older girls giggled.
“I’m happy to.” She skirted the children and tried to keep her affection for Gabe concealed while in front of them.
He smirked and handed her his mallet.
With a few stern taps, she drove the pins into holes he’d cut before class began. The pins slipped easily into place due to his expert carpentry rather than her hammering, but she returned his playful smirk anyway. Handing him back the mallet, she thanked him for the demonstration and asked the students to show their appreciation with applause.
Long after she dismissed the students, the last interested child left the schoolhouse yard. Gabe turned the narrow table upright and stepped to one end. He raised his chin at the other end of the table. “Grab that, Liv.”
She started to lift it. “It’s heavy.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you could do it.”
She stiffened her arms and helped carry the long desk into the schoolhouse. After setting it in the empty room, she proudly wiped her hands on her skirt. “I can’t believe all this was built in a month.”
“Why is it so hard to believe? We built it the same way we built the cabins and the chapel. The gray leaf wood makes building easier, and all the men helped raise the structure.”
“I know,” she said as she perambulated the classroom. “It seems like more effort went into getting it approved than built.”
When he didn’t respond, she realized what she had said. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her hands fluttered as she tried to shoo away her careless words. A strand of hair fell over her eye. “You have worked so hard—are working so hard. I do appreciate all that you’re doing for me, for the children. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
With a grin, he casually crossed the floor and met her in the center of the empty schoolhouse. He brushed his hands together then traced her hairline with his fingertip, moving the loose strands off her face. “It suits you.”
She inhaled his scent and briefly lost focus. “What, um, suits me?”
“Wearing your hair up like a schoolteacher. I missed your long braid when you first cut it, but now I see why you did. The students’ parents are probably more apt to treat you like an adult this way.”
Her fingers immediately reached for her nape. “I didn’t realize you had noticed.”
“I notice everything about you.”
“Of course you do.” She almost told him that she hadn’t cut it—that someone had snuck into her home and cut her hair while she’d napped and she never found out who did it. But she’d already given him enough to worry about. And he was right in that a schoolteacher would be expected to have a more mature hairstyle, but she missed her long braid too. “I’m glad you like it.”
She glanced around the schoolhouse. “I thought the Ashton boys were going to help you finish the interior work.”
“I sent them home for the day.” He snapped his fingers as if something had suddenly come to him. “I almost forgot it… wait here for a minute.”
“All right,” she said to his back as he dashed outside. She went to the doorway and held onto the frame as she leaned outside, wondering what he was doing. The briny wind blew in from the ocean and stirred the sawdust around the building. She drew the edges of her shawl closer to her neck.
Gabe was digging through a leather satchel on the ground by his tools. Finally, he stood and held up an octavo book. “I have something for you.” His comfortable grin stirred her as he brought it to her.
“What is this?” she asked as he stepped back into the shelter of the schoolhouse. She opened the book’s clothbound cover and read aloud. “The Courtship of Miles Standish and Other Poems by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I didn’t know you read for pleasure, especially poetry and romanticism.”
“This is one of my favorites.” He leaned his palm onto the wall beside her. His thick shoulder hovered over her. “Have you read it?”
She had borrowed a copy of the book from a friend in Virginia, but had been blinded to its words and had given it back before the voyage. She shrugged. “Some of it.”
>
“Would you like to read it again?”
“Very much.”
“Then it’s yours.”
She gave the dog-eared pages a quick flip. The few books brought to this land were priceless treasures. “I will borrow it, but I couldn’t possibly keep it, especially since it’s your favorite.”
“I insist. You take far better care of your books than I do mine. And they will all end up in the same home one day soon, I hope.”
She pressed the book to her chest and covered it with both hands. “Thank you.”
The book yearned to be read, so she opened it. As she prepared to read the first line aloud, the letters dissolved into an unknowable mass of marks on the page. She closed her mouth and waited for the misery to pass. Alas, it did not.
“Well?” Gabe asked, waiting.
If she married him, he would discover her secret eventually. She couldn’t hide her shortcomings from someone who was so close his breath entwined with hers. “Well what?”
“I thought you were going to read it.”
“Now?” she clapped the book shut, trying to dismiss the moment and the yearning that penetrated her leaking heart.
Here she stood in the nearly completed schoolhouse she’d fought for, and the only thing she wanted was to read a page aloud. So many times she’d envisioned herself teaching here. Why had she ever thought it would be possible… to be normal… to be able to teach the thing she often couldn’t do herself?
She was a fraud.
Gabe’s watching eyes bore into her expectantly as she fought the cruel affliction he didn’t know existed. “Are you all right?”
She’d once thought he was insincere and playing with her affections, but he was the one who was honest and forthright. And he was a romantic who wanted to marry her and soon. The grip of panic tightened the ever-present knot inside her. She took a small step back. “Everything is moving so quickly.”
“Quickly?”
“Yes… between us.”
He pulled his hand away from the wall and dusted the splinters from it. “I waited years to be with you. When you finally showed some interest, I spoke to your father and got his blessing. That was almost three months ago, Liv. I’m not sure I could move any slower.” He groaned. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove my sincerity.”
The Uncharted Beginnings Series Box Set Page 38