A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(13)

The murmur of voices and the clink of dishes followed him to the barn, as did Barker, tail wagging. RJ stumbled over a root in the unfamiliar terrain but regained his footing. Finding the barn latch, he shoved the beam up and slipped inside, then secured the door behind him.

The warm darkness and familiar scent of hay and horseflesh soothed the jagged edges of his heart, though his missing eye was burning again, a grinding agony that made him want to claw at it. The army surgeon had been able to give him no definitive answer as to why the pain existed or how long it might last.

Captain nickered from the stall Anders had provided, and RJ made his way over to his horse and ran his hand over his whiskery muzzle. The stallion whooshed warm breath against his face. RJ leaned his forehead against the horse’s broad nose and closed his eye. He hated himself for walking out on Anders and his family like that. Anders was a good friend, the best, and they had opened their home to him.

But sitting at Anders’s hearth and seeing his contentment with wife and child . . . The stab of all RJ had lost twisted anew, drawing fresh blood.

Francine, why wouldn’t you wait for me? I waited for you.

Tears burned, stinging as they seeped into his scar, then bringing a strange relief. RJ untied his bedroll and lay in the straw near Captain’s stall. Barker curled beside him, pushing his nose under RJ’s arm.

He’d apologize to the Nielsens tomorrow. He didn’t have it in him tonight.





4


Did she dare confront the men directly?

Trying to listen to the women’s conversation around her, Del glanced over at the circle of menfolk across the churchyard.

“That was a delightful party last night,” said Mrs. Caldwell.

Del turned back and put on a smile. “Thank you. Our first real party in our new home.”

Mrs. Caldwell smiled and shook her head. “I’m amazed at all you sisters have accomplished in just one year.”

“We’ve had a lot of help.” Del glanced away again, this time toward the site of her former school, just within view from where she stood. She and some of her pupils had cleaned up the debris left by the tornado, but the schoolhouse itself had been erratically dropped in pieces, none of which were large enough for anything but firewood. The scattered pile looked lonely and forgotten, a bit like she felt herself lately. Though that was silly with a whole community around her, not to mention her family.

“Don’t you think, Del?”

Her attention jerked back to the conversation. “Pardon me, I missed that.”

“I asked if you had any idea yet how many new students you will have,” Mrs. Weber said.

Del squinted to refocus her thoughts. “At least six, from beginners to . . .” She took a moment to ponder. “I think our eldest is fourteen.”

“I heard Mr. O’Rourke saying his two older sons weren’t going to waste any more of their time in school. He needs their help on the farm.”

“I know. He was adamant.” Del’s mind leaped back to when she met the new family after church a few weeks ago. The mister was downright rude. She felt sorry for his wife, who was so grateful her children could go to school again. At least the older boys had had early years of school before they moved out west.

Another burst of laughter from the male circle caught her attention.

“Excuse me, please,” she said to the women. “I need to ask about rebuilding the school.”

Most of the other men were heading to their wagons, but Mr. Young and Mr. Caldwell were still talking as she stopped next to them.

“Pardon me, but may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Miss Nielsen. How can we be of service?” Mr. Young’s smile didn’t make it from his mouth to his eyes.

Del inhaled and smiled with her full face. Lord, help me. “I’m getting concerned about the schoolhouse. With all the new pupils moving to the area, we are in need of our building more than ever.” Best not to let on that she’d overheard their discussion at the party. Men didn’t like it when a woman knew too much.

The two men swapped glances, and then both nodded in unison, as if they had planned it.

“We’ve been meaning to speak to you about that.” Mr. Young adjusted his coat lapels. “It looks like we’re going to have to put the school off for the time being.”

“Put it off?” Hearing the words so plain slapped Del hard.

Mr. Caldwell stepped in. “I know how dedicated you are to teaching our children, and I wish we could do both, but the train station has to come first. Hopefully we can begin work on the schoolhouse later in the fall.”

“Provided no other more urgent projects come up,” Mr. Young added.

Del’s heart sank. “Can’t you spare any men sooner? Surely the schoolhouse wouldn’t take as long as the station. Though I think we should build for the future and make it large enough for two classrooms, at the rate we’re growing.”

Mr. Young pursed his lips. “You give your opinion mighty freely, Miss Nielsen.”

“I am the town’s sole teacher.” Steel slid into her voice despite her efforts.

“And we value your opinion.” Mr. Caldwell sent the banker a glance. “But you seemed to manage quite well in the church last term, didn’t you?”

Del bit her tongue. Only she knew the burden it had been to set up and tear down her classroom each week, to work around prayer meetings and social gatherings. Rev. Pritchard was always gracious yet often underfoot, even though his circuit was divided between Salton and his other church in Antelope Creek, a neighboring town. To be unable to keep her own books and supplies at school but constantly toting them back and forth. Attendance had seemed more sporadic too. She had a nagging sense that as long as the school remained without a permanent place, some students would give less effort to their learning, and even be less likely to stay enrolled at all, especially the older ones. Yet she’d been truly grateful for the space, consoling herself with the promise of a brand-new schoolhouse all her own for the coming fall.