A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(81)

Lark and Lilac exchanged looks. “This is a meeting for the women.” And they won’t talk if the men are there. Some won’t even come.

RJ studied her. “I’ll talk with Caldwell and a couple of others. Sooner might be best anyway.” He scrubbed a hand over his hair. “I’d better show you the kitchen.”

Lark blinked as soon as they stepped through the doorway.

“I’ve never seen so many cupboards and shelves. All the walls are covered.” Lilac turned in the middle of the large room, her voice lifting though still a bit shaky. “And the stove will go there.” She pointed at the brick chimney.

“That will help heat the upstairs along with reducing the heat in the kitchen.” RJ pointed at the square hole in the ceiling. “We’ve ordered a register, and it should arrive anytime.” He stepped back and nodded to a smaller room. “That’s the pantry, and the room behind the stove will be for Climie, right?”

“As far as I know she still wants to run it.” If last night’s developments didn’t change her mind. The worry strand in Lark’s chest wound tighter.

“The back porch will be for doing laundry.”

Lark stared at RJ. “Did all this show up on the plans?”

He shook his head. “We kind of figured things out as we went. A couple of the workmen had suggestions too. William worked for a short time at a hotel, so he was a big help.”

“And you still have enough funds in the account to pay your workers?”

“We do, thanks to your brother.”

As much as Lark liked doing bookwork, she had gotten behind of late. There was too much to keep up on, always too much. At least God had sent her others to share the load. She needed to remember that.

And now they needed to share William’s. “Thank you for bringing what happened to our attention. I don’t know what we’ll do, but we’ve got to do something.”

“I’ll bring the rifle tonight and camp out myself too, for a couple of nights.”

“Thanks.”

Who would have thought RJ Easton would be such a godsend when Anders first brought him to town?

The two sisters mounted their horse and waved good-bye. All this because we offered a young black man a place to stay.





24


RJ Easton was truly remarkable with Timothy.

Del sat at her desk in the church late Friday afternoon, watching him work with the boy. She should be grading the stack of essays before her, but the excited murmur of their voices had drawn her attention like a moth to flame. She leaned her chin on her hand, marveling as they held an animated discussion about algebraic geometry, the concepts of which she could only vaguely grasp.

RJ’s tutelage had made an enormous difference, even if they’d only recently been able to resume their sessions. Timothy’s reading had improved too, but digging deep into the mysteries of mathematics lit his soul until his blue eyes sparked and his shock of black hair fairly stood on end, his fingers dancing equations across the slate nearly as fast as did his tutor’s. RJ was patient, engaging, and treated him as an equal. Little would she have thought it when she and the surly former soldier butted heads a few months ago. Only one of many areas where she’d been wrong.

Del rubbed her temples, a weary ache pulsing there. How overwrought she’d been at holding classes in the church for another term, how righteously indignant at having her wishes ignored. Now, with the scene at the Kinsleys’ a raw mark on her soul, it all seemed so petty.

Del pulled Elsie Weber’s essay from the stack to begin marking. The assigned topic—the injunction in James that to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin—made her swallow. Yet what more could she have done about the Kinsleys? As the doctor said, there was little they could do even now.

Lord, if there’s something else I can do, please show me. Otherwise . . . please take over. You’re the only one who can. Take care of those children and their mother, please.

“Miss Nielsen, did you want me to take any readin’ home today?”

She looked up and smiled into Timothy’s eager face. “You finished A Tale of Two Cities, correct?”

“I did—well, Iris and I read it together.” He held the book out to her. “In bits and pieces before bed when we could. Mam even had us read some parts aloud, though Da said it just sounded to be about a bunch o’ Englishmen.”

“Well, Englishmen and French. But I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Del reached for her satchel. “I was able to get a copy of that book by an Irishman I told you about. There you are, Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift. Perhaps your da will like that better. And it’s another adventure story, so I think you and Iris will enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Miss Nielsen.” Timothy took the small volume reverently. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will.” Del watched the boy pull on his coat and hurry out the door. Students like Timothy made teaching worth all the headaches and heartaches. Her chest heaved again, thinking of Bethany and John. They’d been in school all week, but Bethany had hardly spoken more than her brother.

RJ joined her at her desk. “He’ll soon be ready for more advanced mathematics books. I’ve some at home. Would you like me to send for them?”