The Blizzard Brides

by Christine Sterling

  Snow.

  They were about to be hit with a blizzard.

  Chapter Four

  “Ya!” Heather yelled to the horse. She raced down Main Street towards Chimney Rock Ranch Road. The wind bit her cheeks, and she lowered her head against the biting air. Snow was starting to fall; thick fat flakes sticking to the ground and houses.

  She raced by several people that were walking on the wooden sidewalks. They had their heads down as they pushed through carrying their purchases. In a matter of seconds, Heather realized she couldn’t see anymore. She would need to find a safe place to stay and wait out the storm. Why hadn’t she just remained at the butcher shop?

  She slowed down as she approached the end of town, where the park sat. Stopping for a moment, she wiped the snowflakes from her lashes, then pulled the blanket tighter around her. She looked left and then right, wondering if she should take a chance and try to ride home.

  That would be a fool’s errand. No telling when the snow might stop. Straight ahead was the church. There was a small barn off to the side where she could put her horse and then she’d go inside the rectory for shelter.

  Guiding her horse to the side of the small barn, she quickly hopped out and unhitched her horse. The horse tugged on his reins as she guided him to the barn. The wind whipped the fabric of her skirt and she felt the bitter breeze against her ankles.

  “Come on, boy,” she said, tugging the reins. The horse pulled back, but then eventually released and followed Heather into the barn. The wind slammed the door shut behind them. Heather jumped as the barn plunged into darkness. There were two empty stalls, which told her Pastor Collins must be out visiting. She felt sorry for the poor soul who was going to be stuck with the critical preacher during the storm.

  She quickly fed and watered her horse and then braced herself for the bitter air once more. Leaving the warmth of the barn, Heather was surprised to see that a few inches of heavy snow had already accumulated in such a short time. The snow covered the top of her boots as she stepped through the wet mess.

  The bottom of her skirt was drenched and weighing her down by the time she reached the buggy. Grabbing the semi-wet blanket, the bag of bones and her doctor bag, she started to trudge towards the rectory. Heather noticed all the lights were off as she approached the small house behind the church. Banging on the door, she waited for a response. When no one answered, she turned to look at the town.

  She could barely see the park and everything behind it was hidden behind the falling snow. Squinting her eyes as if that would somehow allow her to see better, she glanced around once more. In the distance, she could see a single stream of smoke in the distance.

  The schoolhouse! School was still in session. She knew Millie wouldn’t mind if she crashed the lessons. At least she’d be warm and dry. The tips of her fingers were starting to tingle. That prickly feeling was not a good sign. She needed to get her hands warm before frostbite set in.

  Putting her head down, she allowed her hat to block as much of the wind as it could as she trudged towards the school. She lifted her head once more as she got to the gate for the school yard. She could see a bit further down Main Street. The road was deserted, apart from a lone figure clutching a bag and pressing forward in the arctic air.

  The woman’s skirts dragged in the wet snow, and she wasn’t wearing a suitable coat for the harsh conditions.

  “Altar!” Heather called, recognizing the woman.

  “Missus Barnes,” Altar responded. “It sure did turn cold suddenly.” Altar took a hand and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Heather could see the dark woman’s hand shaking.

  “Let’s get you inside the school,” Heather said, walking forward to take Altar’s arm.

  “I should get home,” Altar said.

  “Once the storm is over, we can get you home. I’ll give you a ride in my buggy.” Heather steered the cold woman towards the schoolhouse steps. “Right now, we need to get both of us out of the wind and snow.”

  Heather transferred both bags to her right hand and linked her left arm with Altar. Once they reached the schoolhouse, they knocked on the wooden door and went inside.

  “Millie?” Heather called tentatively. “Alright if we come in?”

  Millie came from around the wall that separated the foyer from the rest of the building. The wall also blocked the wind from entering the schoolhouse.

  “Oh, my land,” Millie said, looking at the two women. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “Help Altar first,” Heather said, releasing the woman and dropping her bags by the door. “She’s cold to the bone.”

  “It isn’t anything.” Altar pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  “Don’t be silly,” Millie said, taking the bags in Altar’s hand and passing them to Heather. “I can hear your teeth chattering from here. We were just watching the snow come down. I hope the children are alright.”

  “Children?” Heather asked, following Millie and Altar into the main school room.

  “Jenny, bring me my chair from the desk and put it by the stove. Marcus, I need you and Tommy to get as much firewood as you can from the wood box and bring it inside.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Marcus said, running to get his jacket and scarf. Tommy followed him.

  Millie took her wrap from a peg on the wall and draped it around Altar’s shoulders. “I’ll get some coffee for you,” Millie said, patting Altar on the shoulder.

  “Thank you, Millie,” Altar replied, pulling the wrap closer around her.

  Heather dropped Altar’s bags on the floor next to her feet. “You mentioned children, Millie. There are children out in this?”

  “Will left as soon as it started snowing. Said he was going to check on his Ma. I tried to stop him, but he insisted. At least Emma and Olivia are here. And Trudy insisted on leaving as well. Will said he’d take her home.”

  “You can’t see three feet in front of you. I can’t believe you sent them home in this weather.”

  Jenny brought the wooden teacher’s chair and placed it by the stove. Millie assisted Altar into the seat, before turning to Heather. “I didn’t send them home. They left.”

  “But you’re the teacher!”

  Millie gave a quick glance to the small group of students sitting at their desks, listening to the conversation with rapt attention. “Heather,” Millie warned through clenched teeth. “I didn’t have a choice,” she said lowly.

  Heather nodded but remained silent. She knew that Will Keegan had a mind of his own. What surprised her was that Trudy decided to follow. Trudy was a timid child and not one to go venturing on her own. Instead of replying with her thoughts, Heather looked around at the faces of the children waiting for direction.

  “It looks like you were in the middle of a lesson. Please don’t let us interrupt you.”

  A gust of wind blew through the small one-room schoolhouse and then the sound of the door slamming shut turned the children’s attention away from Millie and Heather. Tommy and Marcus came from behind the wall, their cheeks rosy and their eyes watering from the sting of the wind.

  “This is all that’s out there, Mrs. Reed,” Marcus said, dumping his armful of wood in the box. Tommy dropped his in the box and then returned to his desk where he kept his coat on, shivering underneath the wool.

  “We’ll have to make do.” Millie gave Heather a quick glance. “George didn’t have a chance to fill the wood box before he left.” Suddenly her face sobered and she looked at Heather. “Oh, my goodness, the men are out there.”

  “Shh,” Heather scolded Millie. “You don’t want the children to worry. I’m sure they found somewhere to protect them from the storm. Red Hawk is good at following the weather.”

  “Will Pa be alright?” a small voice called out.

  “Yes, Jake,” Millie said. “Your Pa will be alright.” She stood straight and patted her hands on her skirt. “I think lessons are over for the day. Put your primers and slates on the shelf and what if Olivia reads
us the next chapter from Oliver Twist?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Olivia walked to the bookcase and pulled a book from the top shelf.

  “You need to get out of that wet jacket, Heather,” Millie said. “Stand by the stove and get warm.”

  Heather moved closer to the potbelly stove. She could see the flames flickering behind the vent as she held her frozen fingers out to the warm air coming into the room. Eventually feeling returned in her fingers and she shrugged off her jacket, hanging it on a peg near the stove.

  Millie returned with two cups and poured coffee from the coffee pot on the stove.

  “I’m surprised you have some premade,” Heather chuckled.

  “It is my elixir to get through the day.” Millie handed a cup to Altar and then the second one to Heather, before pouring herself a cup.

  Heather walked to the back of the classroom and sat on a bench against the back wall. She could feel the cold seep through the wall. The wind wailed outside the front door. Heather sipped her coffee as Olivia’s childlike voice filled the schoolhouse. Heather tried to concentrate on the sound of the story instead of the thoughts racing through her mind.

  Chapter Five

  Heather moaned and rolled her shoulders trying to alleviate the tension from leaning against the wall. A lantern sat on the corner of Millie’s desk, casting a soft glow across the room. The shutters were closed so Heather couldn’t see what was happening outside.

  She looked down. Someone must have covered her with her shawl. It was still slightly damp, but at least it was warm on her legs.

  “Millie covered you,” Altar responded, her eyes appearing bright against her light almond skin.

  “What time is it?”

  Altar flipped back the shawl over her shoulder and pulled at a watch pinned to her jacket. “It’s about five o’clock.”

  “That early?” Heather stood and gave a little stretch, bouncing on her toes. Many of the children were sitting at their desks with their heads on their hands. It didn’t appear a comfortable way to sleep.

  “Five o’clock at night. Not in the morning.”

  Heather gave an awkward laugh. She felt like she had been asleep for hours, but it was only thirty minutes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well as can be expected.” Altar’s round belly bulged from underneath her jacket.

  “You should be at home in bed.”

  “Well, I was headed that way,” she chuckled, “but then this bossy woman pulled me into a school.”

  Heather walked over to the window by the stove and pulled open one of the shutters and peered outside. “I can’t see anything.” Millie was leaning against the chalkboard with Mary Rose in her arms. The mother and child both had their eyes closed. Heather recognized the blanket that was draped over them as the one from Millie’s wagon.

  “That’s cause it’s dark out,” Altar said, in her soft voice. “Hmmm, hmmm.” Heather recognized the tune that Altar was humming softly. She couldn’t place, it but she recognized it.

  “Mrs. Barnes?”

  Heather turned to see who called her. “Yes, Cecily, what is it?”

  “Do you think we can go home soon?”

  Heather walked over and smoothed the young girl’s hair. “I certainly hope so.”

  “Miss Poppet is scared,” Cecily whispered.

  “Is that your doll?”

  Cecily held out the doll to Heather. Miss Poppet had a muslin body with a deep blue muslin dress. Her eyes and lips were sewn from embroidery thread and she didn’t have a nose. Yellow yarn had been fashioned into two yellow braids, which peeked out from a bonnet.

  “Miss Poppet is very pretty.” Heather smiled at the child and handed the doll back. “You tell Miss Poppet there is nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m hungry,” Everett said.

  Millie lifted her head. “Do you have anything left in your lunch box?”

  “No,” Everett shook his head. “Little Jake took my hardboiled egg.”

  “I gave you my cheese sandwich! It was a fair trade.”

  “Boys, boys,” Millie said, placing Mary Rose on the ground. “No fighting.” She walked over to the window and peeked out of the shutter. The wind crashed against the glass panes. “Sounds like the storm is still going.”

  “Want me to check, Mrs. Reed?”

  “I’ll check, Marcus,” Heather replied. “I need to take a break anyway.” She grabbed her jacket from the peg and slid her hands through the arm holes. Shrugging it over her shoulders, she draped her shawl over her head, so it covered her ears and neck. Tying the edges under her chin, she lifted the knot to under her nose. At least part of her face would be covered.

  Several of the children followed her, their little faces peering around the wall. “Which way is the privy?” Heather asked.

  The children all pointed towards the corner of the school room. Heather nodded and opened the door. The wind whipped into the school, causing the door to pull from Heather’s hand, slamming it against the frame before rebounding and hitting Heather.

  She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. Rubbing her arm, she quickly glanced around. The porch ran in front of the school, but only the portion by the door was covered. Heather could see the snow drifting against the wall. The wood box protected part of the porch, blocking the snow. It was only a couple of inches deep.

  Heather picked up her skirt and gave a hop and a jump to the end of the porch. Placing a hand against the wall of the schoolhouse, she peered her head around the corner. She could see the side door, where a pump stood against the steps.

  The snow had drifted up to the base of the windows on this side. She looked out towards the river, but all she could see was white. The silhouette of the outhouse could be seen not far from the fence.

  Deciding she shouldn’t get off the porch, after all she couldn’t even see the steps down, she made her way to the door and went back inside.

  “It is too dangerous to be out there,” Heather said, rubbing her hands together. Just those few seconds outside and she felt as though her hands were covered in pins.

  “I’m hungry,” Everett said again.

  Heather noticed that in the short time she had been gone, all the lunch pails were lined up on top of Millie’s desk.

  “I put everything on the desk to see what we have.”

  “What do we have?” Marcus asked.

  “Unfortunately, not much,” Millie said. “I have some potatoes.” A box of potatoes was a common occurrence at the school, as they would be heated in the colder weather and popped in pockets or under blankets to keep fingers and toes warm.

  “I have soup bones,” Heather said. “I forgot about them until just now.”

  “I guess we’ll need a pot and some water.”

  “The snow is drifting, but the pump is still visible. Let’s take the empty lunch pails and we can fill them.”

  “With snow?” Jenny asked.

  “No, it takes a lot of snow to melt into a cup of water. I’ll see if the pump is frozen. If it isn’t, we should fill as many vessels as we can find to keep water inside.”

  Millie made quick work of dumping the contents of the lunch pails on her desk. There was half a sandwich, a few apples and something that Heather didn’t recognize. “I’ll go with you,” Millie said, picking up the first pail.

  “No,” Heather insisted. “You stay here. I’m already wrapped up.” She picked up the first two pails and headed towards the door. “If you hand me the empty pails, I’ll fill them. Do you have a pot to cook in?”

  Millie shook her head. “We only have the coffee pot.”

  “How about the coal bucket?” Altar asked.

  “Coal bucket?” Millie asked.

  “Looks like a coal bucket to me.” Altar pointed to a cast iron pail where small pieces of wood were sticking out.

  “I totally forgot about that,” Millie said. She walked over and dumped the kindling in a small pile before taking the bucket to Heather. “It will need to
be rinsed out.”

  Heather nodded and swapped the two pails in her hand for the coal bucket. She went out the door on the side of the school and stood over the pump. Giving it two pumps, she could feel that the handle was freezing. She put the bucket on the ground and used both hands to work the lever up and down. Finally, a gurgle of water could be heard.

  Heather grabbed the bucket and let a bit of the water run into it. Her breath left her body as she put her hand in the cold water and swirled it around. She could see odd bits of wood floating in the water. Shaking her hand to release the frigid drops of water, she dumped the bucket over the side of the steps. The water sank to the ground and left a small canyon in the snow.

  Heather repeated the process until she ran her fingers along the sides of the bucket and didn’t feel anymore wood or residue. Then she filled the bucket nearly to the top and handed it to Millie. “The bones are in the linen bag by the door.”

  Millie passed the full bucket to Jenny.

  “I’ll get it set up,” Jenny said, taking the heavy bucket and walking towards the stove.

  Millie handed an empty pail to Heather. Once it was full, Heather handed it back and took the next one.

  Her hands were so cold they were beginning to shake. Her biggest fear was her wet fingers freezing to the pump. She used her scarf to dry her hands between pails. Eventually there were ten pails full of water, plus several mason jars that Millie had in a box under her desk.

  “That’s the last one,” Millie said.

  Heather nodded. She couldn’t speak; her lungs were on fire. She handed the last jar back to Millie and followed her back into the main room of the schoolhouse. “I am so cold,” she said, her teeth rattling in her head.

  “Let’s get you warm.” Millie helped Heather remove the scarf and jacket and hung them on the pegs. “Here, sit,” Millie directed, pointing to a small bench underneath the window.

  “That’s the dunce seat,” Emma said.

  “Well I feel pretty stupid going out in that weather.” Heather shook out her curls. “We should all stay inside.”