A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(95)

“Let’s get movin’, then.” From the back of the crowd, Anthony Armstead raised his hammer in the air, grinning.

RJ grinned back, then divided the men into teams, placing Mr. O’Rourke, Jesse, William, and several of his other workmen in charge of the different groups. Soon the music of hammers and saws rang out over the gathering, sending a thrill through Del’s limbs. Her school . . . finally.

While the men were getting started, the women gathered the children together and walked the school-age ones to the church, then took the little ones to the Brownsville house. The nursing mothers stayed there to assist, and the others returned to the church, both to help Lilac and the children and to form a sewing circle in one corner.

Del and Lark remained at the building site to maintain the fire, pass out hot coffee when needed, and settle the pots of stew into the coals.

“I think I’d better go help Lilac,” Del said when all was running smoothly.

Lark nodded and set another chunk of wood on the block to split.

Inside the church, Del hung up her coat and rubbed her hands on her upper arms. It was too cold outside to be standing around. She smiled at the hum of voices—the children talking with Lilac, and the women visiting as they stitched on whatever handwork they brought.

Del made her way between the rows of tables and benches, admiring what the children were drawing. “Oh, Betsy, what a lovely dragonfly.”

Betsy Jorgensen swung back her pigtails. “It’s like one I drew on our trip to the salt marshes, Miss Nielsen. But I want to add colors to this one, purple and blue and green and gold. Miss Lilac said she’s going to get colored paints for us soon.”

“That’s the dream.” Del smiled over the children’s heads at her sister.

“I want to add flowers around it too, and maybe a rabbit. Is that all right, even though I didn’t see any at the salt marshes?” Betsy craned her head to look up at Del, a frown pinching her freckled nose.

“Using your imagination is perfectly all right.” Del squeezed Betsy’s shoulder. “These pictures will be like beautiful stories covering our walls.”

“Look, Miss Nielsen.” Across the table, Iris O’Rourke looked up, her piquant little face alight. “I’m drawing a scene from that storybook you lent Timothy and me.” She turned her paper to show a lively sketch of a tall man bent over a castle peopled with tiny Lilliputians.

“That’s delightful, Iris. You seem to have quite the artistic eye.” It was always a new surprise with the O’Rourke family. What a mercy their father had let Timothy resume his extra studies after harvest. Under both her and RJ’s tutelage, he was progressing well.

One of the boys heard shouting and ran to the window. “Come look. Come look.”

All the children ran to peer outside. The women snatched their shawls and headed outside to set up dinner, followed by the children as soon as they bundled up.

With RJ calling commands to keep them in unison, four teams of men raised the four framed walls of the school. The women and children cheered as the frames settled onto the plank floor. With long braces pounded into place, the corners were nailed together and braces placed across the upper corners to keep the frame secure until the beam and rafters were hoisted. Above them, the sun broke through the clouds, touching the wooden beams with its rays in blessing. Several men threw their hats into the air and clapped one another on the shoulder.

“Good work, men.” RJ squinted up at the sun. “It looks to be close to noon. Let’s have dinner.”

Talking, laughing. The pale sun warmed everyone’s shoulders as they filled their plates and found places to sit down to eat, piles of lumber doubling as chairs.

Del, sitting on their blanket with her sisters and Forsythia’s family, kept glancing at the half-built schoolhouse, where RJ and several of his workmen ate cross-legged within the open-framed walls.

“Shouldn’t we invite them to eat with us? Jesse, William . . . RJ.” Her tongue caught on the last name. Del dropped her gaze to her plate and hid her heating face by taking a bite of beef stew.

“Maybe they don’t want to cause more trouble,” Lark said.

“About William, you mean?” Lilac passed the basket of bread and cheese they had brought. “Surely not now.”

“Ah, little sister.” Lark shook her head. “I wish I still had your optimism about human nature.”

“But look.” Del nodded at Curtis Jeffers and Thomas Dwyer approaching William and Jesse, ball in hand. The boys said something, and Jesse shook his head, but William grinned and pushed to his feet. Soon the three of them were tossing the ball back and forth in the soon-to-be schoolyard, William proving to have quite a good throwing arm.

“See?” Lilac nudged Lark’s arm. “There is hope.”

“Hope for what?”

Del looked up to see RJ standing beside them. She pushed to her feet, hoping she didn’t have gravy on her chin. “The school is looking wonderful.”

“We’d best get back to work.” RJ glanced at the sky. “This time of year the day will be gone before we know it, and we’ve still got hours of labor to get the roof on.” A shy grin snuck across his face. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“Del.” Lark laid a hand on Del’s arm. “Look.”

Another wagon had pulled up, stopping a short distance away. A young man climbed down, then a woman who Del realized was Climie. They both reached to assist a quilt-wrapped woman out of the back of the wagon. Two children jumped down from the back, and then together—slowly, as if unsure whether they were welcome—the group approached the gathering.