The Sugar Queen

by Tess Thompson

  I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say how I’d cursed God and my own foolish heart. How could this be the woman I’d pledged my life to? I didn’t say any of those things, of course. What good would it have done Rachel to hear how broken our union had been? “She gave me five wonderful children. For this I’m grateful.”

  “When does the gratitude come back? Right now, I’m just so mad at him.”

  “I’m not sure it’s the same for everyone,” I said. “My feelings for Ida were complicated. By the end, I was so twisted up in guilt and contempt and fear that I couldn’t even recall my early feelings of love for her. Now, though, I remember the few good times we had.” I smiled at the memory of the first time I’d been introduced to Ida at her father’s apartment in Manhattan. She’d looked lovely and pristine in a white dress, and yet her eyes had portrayed a wild recklessness I’d been drawn to. “The initial qualities that attracted me to her were the ones that inevitably broke me.”

  Rachel’s brown eyes had softened. “We were never sure exactly what went on over here.”

  “She was very sick for a long time.” I kept it at that. The secrets of Ida’s troubles would remain within this house. I had a strange sensation sometimes that if I spoke about them, even here with my trusted staff and the children, it would make the terror of those times remain within these walls and taint any future in which there was more laughter than tears. “There was nothing I could do to help her.”

  “We suspected as much,” Rachel said. “Samuel was never one to ask.”

  “No, most men don’t. Although we know anyway.”

  “I’m sorry we weren’t better friends to you.”

  “You were. Samuel was always there when I needed to go fishing or be outside. Seeing him happy with you gave me a great deal of joy.”

  She twisted her handkerchief around one finger like a bandage as she spoke. “Between Samuel and me, it was good. We didn’t always agree, but we respected each other. From the beginning, it was as if we’d always been together, and then those babies came, and I had everything I could ever want. I’ve always been strong. A person like me had to be, God knows, in this world that’s been set up to bring me down on my knees at every turn. But this. Going on. Living. I can’t imagine how I will.”

  “You will.” I’d wondered the same after Ida’s death. I could remember wanting nothing more than to sleep. To shut away everything. But I had to continue on for the children. I had to make sure their childhood wasn’t only about their mother’s illness and death. I’d wondered how the children would ever be happy again. Theo’s pinched, drawn face the night after he’d found her lying dead in the snow hovered before me. I blinked to get rid of the picture. “I thought the same, but somehow you do.”

  Footsteps down the stairs, followed by voices and laughter, interrupted our conversation. Rachel startled at the noise. “Are those the children? What’s happened to the terrifying nanny?”

  “She left. We have Miss Cooper now.”

  “The schoolteacher is here? Living with you?”

  I waited until I heard them all head downstairs to the kitchen before I explained, rather awkwardly, how Miss Cooper had come to stay with us and her subsequent offer to take the place of the nanny. “The staff is off today. She and the kids are going to the kitchen to make something for supper.”

  “I haven’t heard them sound like that—happy and gay—I don’t think ever,” Rachel said. “This Miss Cooper must be special.”

  “The kids fell for her rather quickly.” As had I. The fire had died down and the chill crept in like a thief. I tossed in a few more logs. “All in all, yes, she’s quite remarkable.”

  Rachel’s quick mind was already way ahead of me. Not surprising. Women were always smarter than men about matters of the heart. “Alexander?” That’s all. Just my name, yet I knew exactly what she was asking.

  “I can’t seem to help myself.” I gave her a reluctant smile.

  “Don’t. It’s no crime to be happy. This is a lonely country all alone. The winters are long without someone to warm your toes.”

  I returned to the fireplace and retrieved the poker. “She’s young. Only twenty-two.” I prodded the logs into a better position before returning to my chair. “I’m not sure she’d be interested in an old man like me.”

  “Love knows no age or color.” She smiled in a way that didn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, if you have a chance for love, you best take it. You never know how long you’ll get.”

  I fought the lump in my throat. “It’s still hard for me to understand he’s gone.”

  “Yes.” She stuck her handkerchief into the sleeve of her dress and scooted to the edge of the couch cushion. “I should go. I left the kids with Wilber. They may have tied him up by now.”

  I stood when she did. “Before you go, we should talk about what I’ve learned.”

  She went still. “What you learned?” The words were like a dry creek bed, desperate for rain.

  “It’s nothing, really.” I summarized what the Higgins brothers had told me and followed up with my conversation with the sheriff.

  “What you’re telling me is that we’ll never find out who did this,” she said.

  I nodded. “I respect you too much to lie to you. But I’ve come to a similar conclusion.”

  She touched her fingertips to her forehead. “I should get back. Thank you, Alexander.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I watched her leave, her posture ramrod straight, as if she were holding herself together by sheer will.

  Chapter 19

  Quinn

  * * *

  On Tuesday evening, Harley drove Merry and me into town thirty minutes before our first night class so we could stoke the fire I’d left that afternoon. As I wrote the lesson on the blackboard, I feared no one would show. It had dumped snow for hours. Although clear now, the temperatures had dropped into the teens. Until the heater warmed the room, it was too cold to take off coats. I kept mine on as I wrote a lesson on the board. Merry stoked the dying embers back to life with a couple pieces of kindling. Harley shoveled a walkway in front of the porch.

  I turned from the board as a woman walked through the door. There was no mistaking who she was. Dark-skinned with enormous brown eyes and a long, graceful neck, Rachel Cole wore a fashionable and expensive-looking coat over the latest style boots.

  “I’m Mrs. Cole.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I held out my hand and we shook. Her gloves were made of fine black leather. I was self-conscious of my rough nails and calluses. “What can I do for you?”

  “I wanted to get a look at you,” she said.

  “A look at me?” I swallowed as my stomach twitched from within. Her hat was the most beautiful I’d ever seen other than in Vogue, where they displayed all the Paris fashions. The closest I came to those were the clothes my sister made from the pictures.

  “You can’t know a person without looking into their eyes,” she said.

  I smiled and widened my eyes. “What do you see?”

  “Someone either naïve or brave.” Her mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile.

  “I suppose I could be both. Maybe one naturally goes with the other?”

  “I’ll just say straight out, Miss Cooper. My children look like me, not their father. This means they’re not welcome here in town. When Alexander came to talk to me after Samuel died, I sent him away. I couldn’t bear the thought of them coming here and being hurt. They’re all I have.” Her voice caught. She dropped her gaze to her hands. “Alexander spoke highly of you. He seems to think you’ll treat my babies like you do the others.”

  “You have my word.” I stared back at this formidable woman, trying not to let my intimidation show. She was exceptionally pretty. Tall in stature, and eyes that seemed to peer right into my mind. I felt a fraud under her scrutiny. And even shorter and scrawnier than usual.

  “Will you teach them the same as you do the others or will you make them learn on t
he porch?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and answered with the confidence I didn’t feel. “This is my school. I make the rules. All children will have a desk in this classroom. All children will be treated with respect.”

  She tugged off her gloves without taking her eyes from me. “What makes you different?”

  I fingered the edges of my necktie. “I’m a teacher, Mrs. Cole. Anyone who wants to learn is welcome in my school.”

  “There’s another family like us,” she said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “The Chinese family who live down at the old mill by the river.”

  I stared at her. “Alexander hasn’t mentioned them.”

  “They’re kin of the original miners who came here in the sixties. I don’t know much about them, other than they’re a woman and two children. They’ve been ostracized from the rest of the community. Samuel told me they stay away from town.”

  Why hadn’t Alexander told me of them?

  “My husband used to take them wild game he trapped or killed. Without him, I don’t know what they’ll eat this winter.” She looked toward the window, as if she were expecting someone. “I’ve been preoccupied with my grief and forgot about them. I woke in the middle of the night and remembered they’re all alone out there.”

  I nodded as my mind whirled with this new information. “Does Lord Barnes know about them?”

  “I’m not sure. If he did, Samuel never mentioned it.”

  Harley was outside the door stomping snow from his boots. He stepped inside and flashed a smile at Mrs. Cole. “Good evening, Mrs. Cole.”

  “Harley.” She nodded at him. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought she softened slightly. “Thank you for your help with the animals.”

  “My pleasure,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Wilber’s here now. We’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ve decided to send my children to school.”

  “Between Lord Barnes and me, we keep close watch on Miss Cooper and the students,” Harley said. “We’ll be sure to keep watch for yours.”

  “Thank you, Harley.” She turned back to me. “Will there be a desk for them? There are three. Two sons and a daughter.” She went on to tell me their names and ages: Noah, age eight; Roman, age seven; and Willa, age six.

  I gestured toward the desks. “There is room for all, Mrs. Cole. I assure you.”

  “Very well.” She nodded and turned to leave, her long skirts swishing around her legs. As the door opened and closed, I caught a glimpse of a gentleman in a tall hat sitting at the helm of a small sled. He must be the brother who had come from Chicago to look after them. He leapt from the driver’s side to help Mrs. Cole onto the seat, then joined her. I watched as they drove away, bells on their sleigh ringing in the cold night air.

  I turned to Harley and Merry, who were huddled near the stove. “Will we have trouble over this, do you think?”

  Harley rubbed the palm of his hand against his chin. “I’m not sure.”

  “But you’ll still let them come, won’t you?” Merry asked. “Even if you’re scared?”

  The trust on her face was such that even if I’d wanted to, I could not disappoint her. She believed me to be honorable, and I would be, even if it caused difficulty. My father had said no one ever made a difference in the world unless they were willing to face controversy. “I’m terrified, but I’ll risk my life for their right to come to school.” I walked over to the window and stared out into the blackness. Was there danger lurking out there?

  “Is she right about the others?” I asked.

  Merry nodded. “We see glimpses from time to time. It’s only women and children down there from what I know. They have no one to turn to if they’re without a man.”

  “Even if they would come to town, could they?” I asked. “I mean, how would they get here?”

  “I could bring them,” Harley said. “If Lord Barnes agreed to it.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” I said. “For now, we’re focused on this evening. If anyone shows.”

  “We’re here,” Harley said.

  “If it’s only you two, we could have stayed home and been warm,” I said, smiling as I walked over to stand by the heater.

  Merry took my place by the windows. “Here comes someone,” she said. “Two actually. The Higgins brothers.” She pressed her nose closer to the glass. “Oh no, I think they’re leaving. They turned around and are headed the other way.”

  I rushed over to stand by Merry. She was correct. They each carried a lantern. In that dim light I saw fear on their faces. These giant men had risked the wilderness to come west but were too intimidated to come inside a schoolhouse?

  “I’ll change their minds,” Harley said. He threw open the door and called out a hearty greeting. “Hey there, Wayne and Clive. You’re going the wrong direction.”

  They stopped and slowly turned toward us. Clive raised his arm. “Evening.”

  “Come on in,” Harley said. “Miss Cooper won’t bite.”

  Wayne nodded and tugged his brother’s arm. “Right, yeah. We can’t stay the whole time, most likely.”

  “No problem,” Harley said, and held the door open wider, which was making it even colder.

  “Tell them to get in here before we all freeze to death,” Merry said. Always practical, I thought. And she was right. The stove was no good in this kind of cold.

  The Higgins brothers stomped onto the porch. I went to the doorway to greet them. “Come in, come in.”

  “Miss Cooper,” Wayne said, tipping his hat.

  “Thanks for having us,” Clive said.

  The two men plucked their hats from their heads and held them to their chests as they wiped their boots on the rug.

  I told them to keep their coats on for now. “You’ll learn faster if you’re warm.”

  They shuffled to the middle of the room and lowered themselves into the desks. “Told you we’d look ridiculous,” Clive muttered to his brother.

  I bit back a smile. They were awfully large for the desks.

  The next arrival was Mrs. Cassidy, a pretty woman with light red hair and a narrow face. Like me, she wore a threadbare coat and boots that had obviously been polished in an attempt to hide their age.

  I welcomed her with a smile that I hoped conveyed warmth. “Keep your coat on,” I said. “We’ll need to stay warm.”

  Mrs. Cassidy took off her hat and hung it on the rack, then took a seat with the gentlemen. Merry and Harley took their seats as well, and I went to the front of the classroom. “And so we begin.”

  Harley made sure Merry and I were safely inside before driving to the barn to put away the horses. What a long day the young man had, I thought as I followed Merry into the house. The ride home had chilled me to the bone. If I’d been willing to spend money on myself instead of sending it all home, I would have bought myself a new wool coat and a pair of boots that hadn’t worn thin.

  Oh well, I was home now. The day was almost done. Lord Barnes would be waiting up for me. It was nearing nine, so the children would be in bed already. As much as I enjoyed our nighttime routine, I was grateful to have no one but myself to put to bed. Mostly, I would be glad to spend time with Lord Barnes.

  He appeared in the foyer. “Good evening, ladies. How was it?” He helped me off with my coat and hung it in the closet. I inwardly cringed when his fingers lingered on the threadbare fabric of my coat’s elbows.

  I busied myself unpinning my hat. Why was it that poverty made one ashamed? It wasn’t that I hadn’t worked hard during my adult life and even before then. I put that thought aside as Merry answered Lord Barnes’s question.

  Her eyes shone as she took the pins from her hat. “It was just as I imagined. The desks and books and the smell of chalk.”

  “Did you have a good showing?” Lord Barnes asked.

  “Besides Harley and Merry, there were three others.” I told him about the Higgins brothers and Mrs. Cassidy.

  Lord Barnes no
dded, obviously delighted. “Clive and Wayne showed? I wasn’t sure they would.”

  “They almost ran away.” Merry giggled. “But Harley convinced them to come inside.”

  She spoke Harley’s name as one would describe their favorite meal. They’d been sweet tonight, huddled together over the same textbook.

  “You’ve earned the rest of the night off,” Lord Barnes said to Merry. “Lizzie made a fire in both our rooms.”

  Her eyes glistened. “Thank you, Lord Barnes. For everything.”

  “Off with you now,” he said.

  “Good night, Merry,” I said. “I’m proud of you. It’s not easy to do something new.”

  She flushed. “I’m proud of you, Miss Cooper. Oh, Lord Barnes, you should have seen her up there. The way she made it all seem so easy. Even for slower people like me.”

  “You’re not slow,” I said firmly. “You’re as quick as they come. One can’t be expected to know academics if one’s never had the opportunity for school. You remember that.”

  “Yes, Miss Cooper.” Merry ducked her chin, shy, but I knew my words pleased her by the slight upturn of the corner of her mouth. She would come to learn her value at some point. These transformations didn’t happen overnight. My job as her teacher was to keep reminding her. She was the type of student who thrived under praise. “Well, good night then.” She scuttled away, still smiling.

  “Are you cold?” Lord Barnes asked. “Lizzie left a pot of hot tea for you.”

  “I’d love tea.” I rubbed my gloved hands together. “The night is frigid.”

  “There are biscuits too,” he said, gesturing toward the library.

  Lizzie’s cookies, which Lord Barnes and all the children called biscuits, were already etched into my consciousness as the epitome of comfort. “Sounds heavenly. Teaching works up an appetite.” I moved past him toward the library. What did he see when he watched me from behind? Did he see anything he liked, despite my lack of curves?

  “I sent Jasper to bed early, so we’re all alone,” Lord Barnes said as we reached the library.