A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(71)

“It was the best of t-times, it was the r—worst of times . . . it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolish . . . foolishness . . .”

On he read, with Del gently prompting him as needed, until the paragraph concluded.

“Well done, Timothy. Now you have read the opening of one of the greatest novels of recent years. We’ll make our way through the book together bit by bit, and I hope you will come to love it as I do.” Del looked up and caught RJ’s eye with a smile. “But now I have a surprise for you. This is Mr. RJ Easton, and he’s come to help us with mathematics today—far better than I can do for you on my own.”

Timothy jumped to his feet and gave a little bow.

RJ stepped forward and shook the boy’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Timothy.”

The lad stared at RJ with wide blue eyes. “Please, sir, is that a war wound?”

RJ touched a finger to his eye patch. “You might call it that.”

“Come, Mr. Easton.” Del rose to make room on the bench. “Have a seat. We don’t want to take advantage of your time. I’ll just do a bit of preparation for tomorrow while you gentlemen confer.”

Feeling a bit out of his element, RJ sat on the bench, Timothy sliding in next to him. He opened the book. “Let’s see, now. Have you heard of geometric proofs?”

“A bit.” Timothy leaned in, eager.

RJ began to explain, demonstrating on the slate Del had provided. Soon he forgot about trying to fit into the role of teacher and student, and he and Timothy just became two lovers of numbers, logic, and the beautiful way both came together. He started when Del finally interrupted them to say dark would soon be falling, and Timothy must get home.

“Sorry.” RJ pushed to his feet. “Guess I lost track of time.”

“You both did, by the look of it. Timothy, would you like to take A Tale of Two Cities home with you?”

“Yes, miss, if I may.” The boy tucked the novel under his arm and cast a longing look at the book of mathematics.

“I can’t lend that one, I’m afraid, as it belongs to Dr. Brownsville. But perhaps Mr. Easton might come again another time to do a bit more?” She raised a brow.

“I’d be glad to.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Easton. Miss Nielsen.” Timothy bobbed his head at both of them and fairly jigged out the door.

“He’s an unusual boy.” RJ rubbed the crick in his neck. How long had they sat there, bent over the makeshift desk?

“Thank you for doing that.” Del rubbed her elbows. “I can tell it meant so much to Timothy. I can’t meet him on the same level you can.”

“I didn’t do much.” RJ shrugged. “But I’m glad if it helped.” He scanned the inside of the church, darkening now with shadows. “I hear you may finally get your schoolhouse soon.”

“It’s looking hopeful that we can have a school raising before the snow falls.” She began gathering her things to leave. “It appears all I had to do was talk to the women.” She smiled archly.

Guilt twisted his gut. “You asked me for help long ago, and I’m afraid I dismissed you rather rudely. I do apologize. I wasn’t . . . quite myself then.” Though that was no excuse. He seemed to have a lot of apologizing to do lately.

She gave a graceful dip of her head. “Accepted.”

“If you need any help still, I’d be glad to assist in any way I can.”

Del looped her satchel over her arm. “It would be nice to have someone in charge at the raising who knows what he’s doing.”

“Consider me at your service then, Miss Nielsen.” He gave a gallant bow.

She laughed. “Thank you, I shall.”

He walked her out the church door, and they stood for a moment in silence in the darkening yard. He might have missed supper at the Brownsvilles by now, but Forsythia would keep back a plate for him to devour before his nightly mud poultice treatment—one he welcomed now rather than dreaded.

He glanced at Del, who stood with her head tilted back to see the rising moon. Watching her serene profile in the falling twilight, RJ suddenly found his mind blank of anything else to say.

“Well,” she said at last, drawing her shawl closer with a shiver. “It feels like a hard frost tonight. I’d best get home.”

“Can I drive you?” RJ blurted. Somehow he didn’t want to let her go. Not alone in the cold all the way home.

She glanced at him askance. “In what?”

His neck heated. “Uh, your wagon, I suppose.” Belatedly he saw it parked beneath the lone tree by the church.

“I bring the wagon on days when I stay afterward to help Timothy. So no, I’ll be perfectly all right. But thank you, just the same. Good night.” With a parting smile, she was off.

He echoed the good-night and watched her drive away. At last he shook himself and headed on foot down the dusty street, quiet sounds of evening coming from the scattered houses.

Has it been so long, Easton, that you’ve clean forgotten how to talk to a pretty woman? Let alone woo one?

The thought halted his feet and set his mind awhirl. Where in thunder had that idea come from?





21


She was finally going to get her school.

Del breathed deeply of the crisp autumn morning as she strode through the drying prairie grass toward town. A sparse flock of geese honked overhead, stragglers following late after the wiser birds already headed south. She tugged her coat collar about her neck against the frosty chill.