A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(43)

A half-suppressed chuckle ran around the room, faintly easing the tension.

“We do let the children off for harvest.” Del lifted her gaze to Mr. O’Rourke again. “And if you had a special need for Timothy’s help, that is always at your discretion.”

Mr. O’Rourke let out a long sigh and scrubbed one hand through his hair, glancing at his wife. “It would seem I’m outnumbered, as usual.” He bent forward, leaning his hands on his knees to look into his son’s eyes. “It would just be for this term. Ye understand that.”

Timothy seemed about to protest, then nodded. “If you say so, Da.”

“I do. After that . . . we’ll see.” He straightened and aimed a general glare at Del and Rev. Pritchard. “But I don’t aim to be cornered into anythin’ else, mind.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you so much.” Del handed her coffee cup to Mrs. O’Rourke. “We won’t intrude further on your evening. Timothy, Iris, I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow?” She raised a brow at their mother, who nodded.

“Thank you,” Mrs. O’Rourke mouthed, running her hand over her daughter’s braids.

“Remember to bring dinner pails for the noon meal.” Del smiled at the family, then led the minister out the door of the soddy.

———

“How did you learn to do that?” Rev. Pritchard asked as they drove back toward town, dusk falling over the prairie.

“Do what?” Del slapped at an impertinent mosquito trying to buzz down her collar.

“Handle an obstreperous parent like that.”

“I didn’t do much, really. Mostly listened. That’s all most people really want.” She hadn’t realized it until now, but much as she dreaded difficult encounters with parents, once she was in them, she often felt a sort of peace, even a divine guidance over the meeting. Like the Spirit was telling her when to speak and when to be silent. The thought lifted her heart. Perhaps teaching really was her calling after all, despite the discouragements lately. “I think Timothy was the one who made the difference.”

“He did at that.” The pastor huffed a laugh. “I nearly blew the whole thing up.”

Del sat silently a moment, listening to the rattle of the gig and the jingle of the harness. Around them in the prairie grass, crickets struck up their summer evening chorus. “We often don’t think about what life might look like through someone else’s eyes. Someone whose experience has been different from ours.”

“Yes.” Rev. Pritchard flicked the reins and sat back. “I’m afraid too often I am quicker to speak than to listen, in contrast to Scripture’s command.”

“That’s true of most of us.” Del sighed and folded her hands in her lap, weariness sinking over her. “But I’m so thankful they’ve agreed to let Timothy and Iris come to school.”

“At least for now.”

“Yes. At least for now.” Lord willing, she could make school valuable enough that Mr. O’Rourke wouldn’t think of pulling Timothy out again.

Rev. Pritchard insisted on driving her all the way home, though Del told him simply taking her back to the church was fine, since nightfall was a good two hours off still. But she couldn’t refuse the gracious offer, tired as she was. And she still had lessons to finish planning for tomorrow, not to mention a stack of new papers to grade.

“Thank you again for accompanying me.” She accepted the preacher’s steadying hand as she climbed down from the gig.

“Of course. Please feel free to call on me at any time, Miss Nielsen.” He held on to her hand just an instant longer than necessary, looking into her eyes.

Del pulled away her hand as if she’d touched a hot stove lid and hurried toward the house with only the briefest of good-nights.

Oh dear and botheration. Had she seen in the young minister’s eyes what she thought she just saw?





13


Thank God that train station is finished, Lark thought as Forsythia passed on the news.

“And they set the date for the city celebration, two weeks from this Saturday. Mr. Young wanted to wait until October, but other heads prevailed. The station will be a great place to have a celebration before any benches or wooden seats get set permanently.”

“So he thinks they can be ready?” Lilac asked.

“It looks to me like he’s been planning this awhile. Mr. Young said he has invited General John Thayer from Omaha—he’s on the state constitutional convention, hoping to be a senator—to come in and speak to us right from the back of the train. Young’s all excited, says this will be a real feather in the cap of Salton and get us known on the map as a progressive town that is looking forward to Nebraska statehood.”

Lilac and Lark swapped looks. “How much do we care about Nebraska statehood and moving the capital to Lancaster?” Lark asked.

Lilac shrugged. “What difference will it make for us?”

Sythia shook her head at both of them. “You’re part of this town.”

Lilac glanced at Del. “Now perhaps they will finally start the school building.”

“That was my first thought but the celebration . . .” Del heaved a sigh. “Not that women should be consulted—after all, we’re only the ones who will prepare the food and serve it. And in our case, provide the music.”