by Erica Vetsch
What she would look for in a mate... She tapped her chin. It all boiled down to a neat little list. Faith, family and fidelity.
When Elias’s face rose in her mind, she forced herself to concentrate and finish the letter. Elias might possess all the qualities she now knew were necessary for her to fall in love, but he would never look her way. They were too different. She was too different.
He’d been gone for a week, transporting a prisoner to Mankato. She told herself it was silly to miss him, and yet she found herself listening for his footfall on the schoolhouse steps. Last Saturday, when she’d gone to town, she’d known he wouldn’t be there, and yet she’d looked up from her shopping every time someone had entered the store.
Enough brooding, girl.
She finished the letter, signed her name and tucked the pages into an envelope. She’d mail it Saturday when she went to town. For now, she needed to get the children inside and back to work.
By late afternoon, they all, Savannah included, had a severe case of cabin fever. She found herself distracted and frustrated by the students’ inattention. What would they be like when spring really arrived? She’d have to hold classes out-of-doors.
The clock hands seemed to crawl toward three. Savannah was just beginning to think of dismissing school early when a cloud passed over the sun. At almost the same moment, a gust of wind rattled the windows on the west side of the building. She dropped her chalk and hurried to look outside.
As one, the children followed her, crowding around the three tall windows. Outside, it was as if someone had blown out a lantern. Fat, dark, angry clouds boiled overhead, and icy pellets struck the glass and siding, sounding like buckshot.
Savannah’s shoulders slumped. This would be miserable to walk home in. She’d have to make sure she had her mittens and glove liners to keep her hands warm.
“Children, with the weather, I think perhaps we should get going early today. Let’s get our desks tidied and our wraps on. Hakon, bank the fire, please.”
Everyone went to their desks and put away books and pencils. Another huge gust rocked against the building, and the sound of sleet changed to scouring, as if a giant was rubbing sandpaper against the siding. Hakon paused, poker in hand. “Miss Cox?”
She went again to the window. This time she couldn’t even see the corral and shed only twenty yards away. The snow was so thick it didn’t look like individual flakes, but rather a solid wall of white. She shivered. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees in the past ten minutes.
“We’d better hurry. Get into your coats.”
“Miss Cox?” Johann raised his hand. “It is snowing very hard.”
“I know, that’s why I want you all to bundle up well and get home.”
The older boys looked at one another, and she wanted to snap at them to hurry. The walk home would be unpleasant enough, and she wanted to get it over with.
They crowded into the foyer, to find that the snow was blowing so hard it had sifted through the cracks around the door. Savannah shrugged into her coat and helped Ingrid and Margrethe with their buttons and ties.
When everyone had gathered their lunch pails and secured their mufflers, she put her hand on the doorknob. “Ready? Those of you headed to the shed for your horses, hold hands. Let’s go.”
She sucked in a breath and braced herself for the cold, turned the knob and took a gust of snow right in the face. Lowering her chin into her scarf, she stepped outside and collided with a solid wall she hadn’t even seen.
* * *
Elias trotted Buck through the slush on the road, glorying in the warmer weather. The trip to Mankato had stretched out much longer than he’d wanted, but now he was near home, the sun was shining and he had a good horse beneath him.
Captain trotted at his right stirrup, tail like a plume, tongue lolling. Elias had brought the burly dog along to give Cap something to do. With the sheep penned for the winter, he was bored and listless. His mate, Tip, was busy with half a dozen fluffy puppies, so Elias figured the trip would do the dog good.
Cap had done Elias some good, too. The prisoner, a bank robber who had tried to escape into the Dakotas, was nasty. Cap had guarded him well. Fortunately, the prisoner was also a coward when it came to dogs, so he’d been wary from the first growl.
Elias loosened the scarf around his neck. Though he was ready to come home, being away had been good, too. Elias loved people, but he needed some time alone to think, in order to feel right.
And he had a lot to think about.
Christmas had been pure torture, and he’d acted like an idiot. He’d known he was acting like an idiot and he hadn’t been able to help himself.
All because of her.
Savannah had been an itch he couldn’t scratch since the moment he met her. And having her in the house for a solid week, smelling her perfume, hearing her laugh, watching her charm his family—especially his brother—had tied Elias in so many knots he could hardly sleep.
“Cap, I’m losing my mind. I should know better. You should’ve heard the way she talked about her family and her life in Raleigh. I knew she was rich, but a ballroom right in her house? A party for a hundred people like it was nothing? Fancy stores where they sell nothing but chocolate?” He fisted his hand on the saddle horn. “No wonder she was in such shock when she first got here. There’s no way she would stay once school is done. She’ll be on the first stage out of town.”
The dog trotted along, accustomed to Elias talking to him.
“Then there was all that gabbing with Tyler about her schooling and the books they’ve both read. I felt like an ignoramus. And wasn’t old Tyler lapping it up?”
Elias hesitated to name his feelings, but in his heart he knew the truth. He’d been jealous of his brother and all Tyler had in common with Savannah. If she wanted an intellectual or academic, she’d never look Elias’s way.
Of course, she’d given no indication she was looking anyone’s way. She didn’t have to. Wealthy, pretty, smart, talented. She had her pick of Southern gentlemen. No doubt a year from now she’d be married to a rich man, and she’d talk at her tea parties about the uncouth people of the north.
“You should’ve seen her at the Christmas Eve service. When she came out of the guest room in that red dress, I had to hold on to the banister or else fall smack down. I tell you, I thought my heart might pound right out of my chest. She looked straight at me with those big blue eyes, and I could hardly breathe.” Elias shook his head at his sorry state. “And wasn’t Tyler quick on the draw, holding her coat and offering her his arm, helping her into the sleigh?”
Elias thought back to Christmas afternoon, when he’d taken Savannah out to the barn to see the litter of pups. What a sight she’d made, sinking into the straw, cuddling fluffy babies, laughing at their antics. It was the best Christmas Elias could remember.
He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that the first frigid gust of wind caught him off guard. Jerking his head up, he blinked. A low, heavy bank of clouds covered the western horizon, racing toward him. Another cold blast buffeted him, and he clapped his hand atop his hat to keep it on his head.
“That looks bad. Best pick up the pace.” He legged Buck and whistled to Cap. They couldn’t go too fast because of the slippery ground, but he kept the pressure on. As always, his thoughts jumped to Savannah. School would be dismissed soon. She’d be walking home into the teeth of a storm. If he hurried, maybe he could get there in time to give her a ride.
The sleet hit him about a mile farther on, hard pellets that stung. Buck wanted to turn away from them, but Elias kept him pointed west. The wind picked up, a continuous howl now. He ducked his head, letting his hat brim shield his face. The drop in temperature was amazing. One minute he was thinking about removing his coat, and the next, he was wishing he had two.
Sleet chang
ed to snow, tiny icy flakes, the kind that were a harbinger of a big blizzard. Soon it was impossible to distinguish features of the landscape, or even see the horizon. The cold drove through his garments and into his bones.
Distance became impossible to judge. He couldn’t be too far from the school now, surely. They must’ve crossed some invisible line in his horse’s mind, because Buck stopped fighting him about facing into the storm, and put his head down, trudging for home and his stall in the barn.
“Cap,” Elias shouted over the wind. “Stay close.” The snow blinded him to anything beyond about six feet. He would have to trust Buck and Cap to keep them headed in the right direction. At this point, anywhere they could get inside was the goal.
If only he had started out earlier this morning. He’d spent the night in Walnut Grove, where the sheriff was a friend of his father’s. Thanks to the Warners’ hospitality, Elias had been late getting on the road.
Buck stumbled, and Elias lurched in the saddle. Righting himself, he patted his horse’s shoulder. “Easy, boy.” Snow clung to them like a second layer of clothes, clumping in Buck’s mane, filling the folds and ridges of Elias’s coat. He peered through the whirling flakes and thought he caught a glimpse of something large ahead.
Cap barked and bounded away. “Cap, get back here!” Elias’s words were swallowed up by the storm. Buck stumbled again. Sliding from the saddle, Elias drew the reins over the horse’s head and started forward. His boots sank into the snow. They must’ve gotten off the road. Maybe they would hit a fence line soon that would guide him.
Captain emerged from the snow, barking. The collie came to Elias’s side, then turned back to the west... At least Elias thought it was west. “All right, boy. Lead the way.” He was so cold, his lips were stiff.
After a few moments of steady walking, Elias thought he heard something through the wind, but couldn’t be sure. He stopped and Buck ran into his shoulder, causing Elias to stagger. Cap barked and then lifted his nose in a howl. The sound came again, and from behind Elias, Buck let out a whinny.
Horses. They must’ve sensed Buck’s approach. Elias’s heart lifted. Even a barn would suffice for shelter. Cap brushed against Elias’s leg and stuck close. Through a lull in the wind, Elias spied a small shelter and knew exactly what it was.
He’d reached the school, after all. The shelter was the pony shed, and half a dozen shaggy horses crowded into the three-sided structure, which was open to the east, away from the wind, fortunately. A full shed meant the children were still inside the school.
Which meant Savannah was there, too, and not wandering on the prairie lost in this storm.
After struggling through the wind, and having to dig out the gate so he could run Buck inside, Elias finally managed to unsaddle and pen his gelding. Another fight to get to the haystack and dig into it for some fodder for the horses. Water would have to wait. He shoved his way through the animals to the back of the shed with an armful of hay. By the time he’d made several trips, he was ready to drop.
“C’mon, Cap. Let’s get inside.” He turned to where he knew the school stood and broke a fresh path through the deepening snow. Carrying his saddle, blanket and rifle, he stumbled up the steps and collided with someone coming out of the schoolhouse.
Savannah shrieked, and he dropped his saddle to grab her before she fell.
“Elias? What are you doing here?”
A gust rocked him. “Get inside!” he shouted. The wind tore at his hat, flapping the brim and driving snow around them and through the open door.
Scooping up his saddle, he pushed her inside and slammed the door behind him. Though the foyer was nearly as cold as outside, it was such a blessing to be out of the storm, he wanted to sink to the floor. His breath came in gasps, and the relative quiet inside rang in his ears.
After a moment, he realized the room was crowded with bundled children. He tugged his snowy muffler off his face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“We have to get home before the storm gets worse.” Savannah bent to tie one of the little girls’ scarves tighter. “It will be dark soon.”
He sagged against the wall, tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth and blew on his hand. “The storm is already worse. We’ll have to ride it out here for a while.”
She straightened and tugged on her mittens, the ones she’d been given by Mrs. Linnevold in exchange for Johann’s school supplies. “That’s impossible. These children need to be in their homes. Their parents will be expecting them.” She herded the smaller ones together. “Now, you older children be sure to take care of your younger siblings. Break the trail for them through the deeper snow, and don’t dawdle. Elias, if you’d just move away from the door?”
He levered himself upright, surprised at how tired and achy he was, but he didn’t move out of the way. “Savannah, the children cannot leave. You can’t see more than a few feet out there. They’d be lost within a few minutes. If Cap hadn’t led me here, I’d be wandering out in that blizzard myself.”
Savannah shook her head. “Surely, if it is so bad out there, someone will come for us. Parents in sleighs?”
“Kids, why don’t you all go back into the schoolroom and warm up by the fire. Go ahead and take your wraps with you.” Elias looked at Hakon, Lars and Johann, the oldest boys, and jerked his head toward the interior doorway. They nodded, and he didn’t miss the relief in their eyes as they led the kids inside.
Savannah had her hands on her hips. “Elias, we cannot stay here. It might be hours before the storm abates, and by that time it will be night. They’ve walked home in the snow before.” Her stubborn, authoritarian teacher voice irked him.
“This isn’t just snow. It’s a blizzard. There’s a difference. We don’t have a choice but to stay here. If you send those kids out in this, they’ll freeze to death on the prairie. It will be touch-and-go whether we can survive here, but we stand a better chance riding out the storm inside the school.” He bent to pick up his glove. “I’m not going to argue with you about this. As the sheriff and my brother’s stand-in supervisor, I’m ordering you to stay here with the children until it’s safe to go outside.”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes a mixture of stubbornness and now fear. “It’s really that bad? What if we all tried to make it to the Halvorsons’? They’re the closest, and they would have food and blankets and warmth.”
“It is that bad. No way could we make it to Halvorsons’, not even on the horses right now.” Yanking off his other glove, he used it to knock the snow off his coat and pants. The idea of them setting off into the storm made his muscles tense and his mind seethe. How could she have been so foolish as to contemplate such a ridiculous thing? Fear made him angry and he lashed out at her to mask it. “I can’t believe you were even thinking about leaving. Nobody in their right mind would set off into the teeth of this storm. It’s a good thing I showed up when I did. You’d all be lost and dying right now.”
He stomped his boots, and the casing of snow fell off in slabs. “Didn’t you learn anything when you froze your hands? You can’t take this place lightly or it will kill you. And not just you, but those kids, too. This is what Tyler gets for hiring a Southern belle to teach here. You don’t have the sense God gave a chicken.”
Her face paled and her eyes glistened. He felt like a heel, but she had to know the dangers. Glancing toward the schoolroom door, he wondered if the children had heard him. He hadn’t exactly been whispering. With a shuddering breath, he took her arm and led her toward the classroom.
“Let’s get in there and see about making things bearable. We’re going to be here for a while. Don’t let the children see you’re scared.”
Easier said than done as another huge gust rocked the building and rattled the windows. Eleven pairs of eyes, wide and uncertain, met his, and the responsibility for their survival nearly buckled his kn
ees.
Chapter Fourteen
A blizzard. Savannah thought she’d seen blizzards before. After all, it had snowed hard in November and December, drifts piling up everywhere. But the severity of this one set in every time she looked at the deepening lines on Elias’s face and thought about his harsh words.
He still held to the belief that it had been a mistake to hire her. After all these months, nothing had changed. Didn’t have the sense God gave a chicken?
Elias took charge right away, tossing the last few lumps of coal in the hod onto the fire and stirring it with the poker.
“Hakon, Johann, Lars, help me move these desks and benches.” He spoke Norwegian to save time. “Stack them up in a semicircle around the stove to try to keep the heat near the fire.”
Hakon hefted a bench easily, while Johann and Lars grabbed each end of another.
“Not too close,” Elias cautioned. “We need to make room for everyone to sit or lie down.” He showed the boys where to set things. “Lay the benches on their sides to form a wall. Shove the desks up against them.”
Benches banged off one another and desks skidded along the floor.
“Be careful. You’re dropping books and papers.” Astrid and Nils followed them, picking up school supplies that fell out of the desks, and stacking them on Savannah’s desk in neat piles.
“What should we do?” Rut asked, indicating the girls.
Elias put the last bench in place. “Some of you bring the water crock into the schoolroom so it doesn’t freeze, and bring in any lunch pails out there, too.” He winked. “Hopefully not all of you ate everything up at lunch today. And the rest of you, if there are any extra coats or cloaks in the vestibule, bring them in. We can spread some on the floor to keep us warmer.”
