A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(99)
But the office stood empty, the telegraph machine silent. RJ drummed his fingers on the counter for a few minutes, waiting, then gave up and stopped back at the Brownsvilles’ before heading to the school. Wherever Edward Owens was, RJ wouldn’t let his own impatience make him miss the presentation Del and the children had worked so hard to prepare. But why hadn’t Anders replied? Did he think RJ unworthy of his sister? He wasn’t wrong, if so.
Warmth and laughter swelled the school building along with the scent of fresh-cut wood. The benches were filled so tightly with parents that RJ barely found a spot to stand against the back wall. He smiled to see Del up front, reassuring nervous students, fixing the untied hair ribbon of an eager little girl, whispering last instructions to the older ones.
He glanced over the gathering. Forsythia and Adam sat near the front, Robbie and Sofie beside them, Mikael on Forsythia’s lap. Nearby sat the Caldwells, Youngs, and Jorgensens, and near the middle was Mr. O’Rourke with his wife. RJ had spoken with him about Timothy while they were doing finishing work on the boardinghouse the other day, and while O’Rourke was still cautious, he seemed more open to Timothy pursuing his passion for mathematics and even possibly going to college . . . someday. Near the back sat Mrs. Kinsley and her older son. RJ hoped she was well enough to be out, but doubtless she’d push through just about anything to see her children tonight.
Other single men stood with RJ in the back, along with some late-coming parents. He caught William’s eye and nodded, grateful there seemed to be no fuss about his presence here today. Next to him stood Jesse and Isaac McTavish, a man RJ wanted to get to know better. Yet already, it seemed, he knew more friends and acquaintances in this little town than he had in a long time—since the war for certain, perhaps even since he lost his parents.
“Welcome, everyone.” Ever the schoolmarm, Del clapped her hands to gain the attention of the room. Murmuring and rustling stilled. She smiled over the gathering, neat and proper in a gown of gray-blue wool that brought out the startling color of her eyes, wisps of pale brown hair escaping from her snood and curling about her face.
RJ swallowed hard at the loveliness of her.
“What a joy it is to gather here today in our new school building, made possible by the hard work of so many of you. I’ve asked Reverend Pritchard to open us in prayer, and then our program will begin.”
The minister stepped forward, and all bowed their heads, but RJ couldn’t concentrate on the words. All he could think of was Del, how he loved her, and the telegram that hadn’t come. He squeezed his eyes tight, feeling the pull of the scar. Lord, if this is not what you have for me, help me be content. Let me not turn away from you again just because I don’t get my way.
At strains of music, RJ jerked his head up, having missed the Amen. The schoolchildren filled the front of the room, a choir in two lines, little ones in front and taller behind. Lark and Lilac led off to the side with fiddle and guitar, since the piano remained at the church, though he’d heard talk of the Caldwells shipping one out for the school. Del conducted with simple hand gestures as the children launched into “We Gather Together,” their voices high and clear.
“We gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing;
He chastens and hastens His will to make known;
The wicked oppressing now cease from distressing;
Sing praises to His name; He forgets not His own . . .”
A rather fitting summing up of this fall in Salton, RJ thought.
They sang all three verses, ending with a final harmonizing note and a burst of applause from the parents. Beaming, Del nodded for the children to bow, which they did in tolerable unison.
“Now we will have some demonstrations of all we have learned this term. First, our older students will give us an exhibition of mental arithmetic.”
Timothy O’Rourke stepped forward, dark hair slicked back with water and collar stiff with starch, along with Elsie Weber, Henry Crawford, and a couple of sixth-reader students RJ didn’t know. Del posed a dozen complicated conundrums to the students, and while all did well, Timothy shone. When he finished with no errors and received the prize for top marks in mathematics this term, the boy caught RJ’s eye and smiled. RJ grinned back, feeling his chest expand. He’d be dashed if Nebraska wouldn’t hear of Timothy O’Rourke someday.
Next the middle grades held a spelling bee, with first prize earned by Bethany Ann Kinsley. She scampered back to join her mother, a shy smile lighting her face. So much heartache that little one had borne already in her short life. Hopefully this would be the beginning of a new season.
By the time the littlest ones had all taken turns reciting poems and the students closed the program with “Now Thank We All Our God,” RJ was ready to step away from the wall where he’d been leaning and stretch his legs. As the schoolroom swarmed with children and parents, he headed outside where others also snatched a breath of fresh night air, even if cold. The clouds that had gathered all day hung silent and heavy, perhaps bringing the long-awaited snow.
Isaac McTavish joined him and held out a cup. “The ladies are servin’ hot cider inside. Thought maybe you could use some.”
“Why me?” RJ accepted the tin cup with a nod of thanks.
“Just had that look about you.” Isaac gave his enigmatic smile.
RJ didn’t press the point. He sipped the hot brew, sweet and spicy. “Good to have you back in these parts. Thanks for your help with that liquor tent business. I’ve been meaning to ask, how was it working on the railroad?”