“You know how I mentioned how bored I am since my children are grown and gone?” Mrs. Scott’s blue eyes sparkled. “I was hoping you could use a volunteer in the afternoon?”
Garnet laid her hand on her neck. Thank you, Lord. “I certainly could use another pair of hands. The afternoon sessions begin with grammar and spelling followed by history. Would you be willing to help some of the younger students?”
Mrs. Scott studied the blackboard and read, “The pilgrims lived long ago in England.” She swiveled toward the students. “It’s been so long since my children were in school and I was terrible at spelling. History too, for that matter.” She snickered. “But Miss Adams, if you’ll have me, I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more.”
Chapter 5
1890 – Rules for Teachers
Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls,
or gets shaved in a barber shop will give good reason to suspect his worth,
intention, integrity and honesty.
The schoolboard elected to give the students a half-day off on Wednesday, which gave Garnet an opportunity to plan a visit with Mrs. Scott and help her with preparations for Thanksgiving dinner. Thanks to the bright mid-afternoon sun casting a warm beam on her shoulders, she loosened her shawl despite the cool breeze and crossed the road.
Her lips turned up at the sight of the white two-story home with a wraparound front porch and two front doors. Since her first visit, she’d learned the left entrance was used primarily for the coming and goings of the sheriff and deputy. The one on the far side, positioned under the turreted porch, opened into the formal parlor and dining room. She hurried her steps, excited to assist Mrs. Scott with her baking and visit with her daughter-in-law, Emma.
She tapped on the screened entrance. “Mrs. Scott, it’s me, Garnet.”
“Coming.” Emma, a friend from church, answered in a clear alto. Her pointy-toed, pull-on boots made clicks along the hardwood floors. She grinned as she drew closer to the locked screened door. Her brown eyes stared, a deep contrast to the blond braid she wore long and over her shoulder. “Thank goodness you’re here. My mother-in-law was almost desperate enough to ask me for help.” Emma unhooked the latch.
Garnet laughed. “I don’t mind cooking, but I love to bake.”
“My friend, Rebecca, would agree with you. She says everything is better in a crust.” Emma pointed toward a hall tree. “Go ahead and hang your things up and come on back.”
The rich and buttery aroma of pie shell greeted Garnet from the bright yellow kitchen. Mrs. Scott turned the dough out onto the floured surface of her worktable. “Welcome, Garnet. You couldn’t have come at a better time. The stew is ready and I just put a loaf of bread in the oven. Emma and I wanted you to join us for lunch.”
“You know I can’t say no to your cooking.” Garnet wrapped her arm around her new friend. “I wish you could have seen the Johnson brothers this morning. They were so proud of their new boots.”
“I remember what it was like to keep growing boys in clothes and shoes. Which reminded me I’d stored some of their things in the attic.” Mrs. Scott rubbed her hands on her apron. “One year, Brian’s shoe size went up three sizes in less than six months.”
“They seemed brand new.” Garnet’s eyebrows shot up.
“Now you know why.” Mrs. Scott laughed. “Brian was always neat and tidy. Took real good care of his things. Especially his boots. They were doing no one any good stored in the attic.”
Garnet’s mouth twitched as she mentally compared the cousins. Similar in stature—tall, handsome men with broad shoulders. But she’d only seen Emma’s husband attired in his church clothes.
“My mother-in-law did an excellent job with my husband. He’s almost too tidy.” Emma waved a piece of fruit. “Once we’re home in the evenings, I don’t dare put anything down and turn my back because it will be back in the proper place faster than a cow can shake its tail.”
“Oh Emma, you have the best way of putting things.” Garnet shook with laughter. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to spending the afternoon with you both. I love my job, but there are days when I long to be back home in my mother’s kitchen, helping her with dinner and chatting about our day over a cup of coffee.”
“We’ve been chatting about your visit all morning too.” Mrs. Scott picked up her rolling pin. “I’ve always wanted a daughter. God blessed me with a wonderful daughter-in-law. Now I’m either going to have to adopt you or hope my nephew figures out it’s time to put down roots and snaps you up before some other eligible bachelor does.”
Garnet glanced down at her lap. “I don’t believe your nephew has the least bit of interest in me. And since I’m too old to be adopted, we’ll simply remain good friends.”
“Well, I’m not giving up on my dream yet. But I’ve embarrassed you, so we’ll change the subject.” Mrs. Scott flattened the dough. “I’ve always thought my gingerbread lacked something, just not sure what. Did you bring your aunt’s recipe with you?”
“That’s one set of instructions I know by heart.” Garnet tied on her apron. “Up until a few years ago, my aunt and I often baked together.”
Emma reached for an apple. “I wish I was better at cooking, but I’m content to let my stepmother prepare dinner most days. Scotty and I are in charge of cleanup.”
“Your work on the ranch keeps you too busy to spend time in the kitchen. It’s smart, the way you and Molly divvy up the work.” Mrs. Scott rolled the dough into a neat circle.
Emma laughed. “Grandma Tennessee always says, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ Fortunately, Brian didn’t hold my cooking skills against me.” She cut the fruit into small pieces. “He loves gingerbread, though. Is it difficult to make?”
“It’s simply a matter of creaming together sugar, butter and beating in the egg with the molasses. Then we’ll sift the dry ingredients.” Garnet reached for an apron. “My aunt’s secret was to double the spices called for and she added a half cup of applesauce.”
“We’ll make a batch to go with dinner tonight. I hope you’ll stay and eat with us?” Mrs. Scott inclined her head toward Garnet.
“I would love to.” She reached for a mixing bowl.
“Good. Your grandmother’s quote has me thinking. My son’s not the only one who loves gingerbread.” Mrs. Scott beamed. “It happens to be a favorite of my handsome nephew as well.”
Garnet felt her face flush and shook her head at both women who broke out into giggles.
~
The aroma of ginger, clove and the spicy scents of cinnamon and molasses greeted Noah, his uncle, and cousin upon stepping onto the porch. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was the scent of gingerbread baking in the oven.” The sheriff paused as he opened the screen door to his office. “Has Emma learned to cook?”
“Nope.” Brian chuckled. “Mama must be baking for Thanksgiving.”
Noah inhaled deeply, then followed his uncle and cousin into the house toward the kitchen. “Uncle Micah, if it’s gingerbread, do you think you could talk Aunt Madeline into—” His voice dropped at the sight of Miss Adams removing a pan from the oven.
Her tiny waist was wrapped in an apron tied in a large bow. She pivoted. A mahogony curl rested on her pink cheek marked with a streak of flour. Her dark eyes were bright. His breath hitched at the flash of her radiant smile. What would it be like to come home to a sight like this each day?
“You men had best wash up. Dinner’s ready.” Noah forced his attention toward Emma. Her expanding belly, signaling the upcoming birth of her first child, was evident when she rose from her chair and greeted her husband with a quick kiss. “We were just waiting on you three to show up.”
“Yes indeed. Everything looks so good we won’t have to be told twice.” His uncle punched him in the arm light-heartedly. “Right, Noah?”
He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Let’s get washed
up.” His uncle slapped his back and winked. “We don’t want to keep the ladies waiting.”
Chapter 6
1890 – Rules for Teachers
After ten hours in school, the teachers may spend the time
reading the bible or other good books.
Garnet pulled the door to the boardinghouse closed. She readjusted her basket and violin case, then squinted toward the clear blue sky. The sun shone bright and the slight breeze was pleasant, making it the epitome of a crisp autumn day. From her stance on the boardwalk, the shops were closed and the town quiet. She glanced at the pendant on her watch. “It looks like everyone got an early start. There’s not a soul in sight.”
“You’re right if you don’t count you and me.” Deputy Scott appeared wearing a wide grin. His broad shoulders blocked the view of the town. She stared into the bright badge on his leather vest.
“Goodness. Where on earth did you come from?” Garnet placed her hand over her heart.
“The noontime sun casts a shadow between the opera house and here. It’s a good place to stand and get a view of what’s going on in town.” He positioned his hand on his hips. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Most of the time, people can hear me before they ever see me.” He lifted his foot slightly. Garnet’s mouth twitched at the familiar sight of his large work boots.
“Are you not going to the community Thanksgiving festivities?” She gave the deputy a sideways glance. His navy shirt brought out the color of his eyes reminding her of cornflowers.
“Deputy Weaver and I are splitting duties. I’m on patrol until three, then he’ll take over.” He reached for the basket. “Let me carry one of those for you.” His eyebrows narrowed. “I was hoping maybe you had some gingerbread with you, but it feels like you got a set of bricks in here.”
“Your aunt is bringing the gingerbread along with other things we baked for the festivities. I’ll be sure and set some aside for you. Emma and I are swapping a few books. I’ve included three of my all-time favorites, Around the World in Eighty Days, A Christmas Carol, and a collection of stories by Washington Irving.”
“That’s quite a spread of literacy. No wonder it’s so heavy.” Deputy’s Scott’s cheeks rose and his eyes crinkled. “I read, Around the World in Eighty Days, again last year when the lady reporter, Nellie Bly, did her galivanting. I honestly was surprised she was able to beat the record.”
“I enjoyed reading about her travels too.” Garnet slowed her step. “Especially about the monkey she acquired in Singapore and her visit with Jules Verne. I have another book of his as well entitled, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.”
The clip-clop of the deputy’s boots stopped. He lifted the basket. “Is that one in here too?”
“No, it’s back at the boardinghouse.” Garnet laughed. “Would you like to borrow it sometime?”
“I sure would.” Deputy Scott scanned the horizon. She followed his stare and took in the scene at the town square. A group of women arranged greenery, pumpkins and squash into centerpieces on tables covered in colorful oilcloths in front of the church.
She reached for the basket. Deputy Scott laid his hand over hers and nodded toward Emma’s husband, who was helping set up a game of horseshoes. “If you like I can put this in their wagon. That way you won't have to tote it around all afternoon.”
Garnet felt her stomach flutter at the touch of his hand. “Thank you, deputy. Perhaps, I’ll see you later this afternoon?” Ew, did she say that out loud?
He touched the brim of his hat. “Yes, ma’am. You sure will. I’d appreciate it if you saved me a slice of gingerbread.”
~
The engineer pulled the chord activating two long whistles. Clouds of steam and fire shot from the engine as it departed from the station. Noah positioned his hands on his hips, then surveyed the town. He pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket. In another fifteen minutes, Leo would take over.
He resumed a slower pace past the boardinghouse and chuckled at the reminder of Miss Adams’ loud sneezes and equally impressive stomach rumbles. He paused mid-step and rubbed the back of his neck. More and more, he found himself thinking about the young woman and her dark hair and bright smile. Seemed like he couldn’t get her off his mind.
Noah stared at the schoolhouse and positioned himself in this exact spot each morning, waiting for her to ring the bell signaling for the school day to begin. Not to mention making sure she made her way to the boardinghouse safely in the afternoon. But why? I am just doing my duty and am concerned about her welfare.
He increased his strides and passed the bank and mercantile. His fellow deputy, Leo Weaver, rounded the corner and extended his hand. “I’ll relieve you now. You must be starving.”
“I admit to looking forward to dinner. Did you save me anything?” Noah’s hand met the firm grip of his coworker. Leo was equal to him in the height of six-foot-four inches but of a more slender build. Though both of them were in their mid-twenties, his blond hair was lighter, bleached by the sun, and his cheerful demeanor gave him a more youthful appearance
“You’d be in trouble if it was up to me to remember to save you anything. But your aunt and the captivating little teacher took care of you.” Leo punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t deny the fact you think she’s attractive either. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
Noah took off his Stetson and ran fingers through his hair. “She’s a young woman living on her own. I’m just concerned about her safety is all.”
“Is that so?” Leo waggled his eyebrows. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked her for a dance or two this afternoon? You do know there’s going to be square dancing later?”
“Why should I care?” Noah flinched.
Leo slapped his leg and gave a hearty laugh. “Why, indeed?”
“Even if I did. It’s neither here nor there because you’re on duty for the next four hours.” Noah opened and closed his fists. “Besides, as a teacher, Miss Adams has all sorts of rules to abide by. I doubt the schoolboard would approve of her dancing.”
“Which could be a problem, I reckon.” Leo’s eyes twinkled. “But you underestimate me, my friend. First, the sheriff’s got a volunteer to relieve me of my duties an hour early so I can attend. Second, my father is the chairman of the schoolboard.”
Chapter 7
1890 – Rules for Teachers
You may ride in a buggy with a man if the man is your father or your brother.
The sounds of cheers and laughter greeted Noah. Mike Montgomery lifted young Bobby on his shoulder, the apparent winner of a hoop-rolling contest. A rich aroma of hickory and smoked beef tickled his nose. His cousin and uncle waved a greeting from their stance watching a game of horseshoes. Five-year-old Betsy squealed in delight and pulled her friend by the hand toward him.
“Deputy Scott, where you been?” Betsy’s dress was clean but worn and contrasted with her friend’s which appeared similar to one in the window of the dress shop.
“This is Annie, my best friend.” Betsy beamed. “Stephen and Thomas have been looking for you.” She pointed toward her brother and several other boys playing kick the can.
“Does he know about the miracle?” Annie elbowed Betsy.
He huffed. “The deputy and the sheriff know about everything that goes on around here.”
Annie placed her hand beside her mouth and whispered, “Who do you think did it? The ghost of Mr. Scrooge?”
Noah knelt beside both girls. “Who do I think did what?”
“The miracle,” Annie said. Both girls’ blond braids bobbed up and down with their nods.
Noah raised his eyebrows. “I appreciate your confidence, but in my line of work there’s so much going on I’m afraid I might have missed your particular miracle. How about you start at the beginning and tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Well you see, Bobby and Stephen’s sister have been praying about some things they need.” Betsy motioned with her thumb toward the boys. “Do you notice anything
different?” The little girl then pointed toward her feet.
He pushed his hat to the back of his head and watched Bobby cover his eyes, then begin counting. The other boys scattered to find hiding spots. “I admit I did know about your friend’s new shoes. Those are some mighty fine boots.”
“It’s too early for Santa, but I’m not sure about when Mr. Scrooge’s ghosts come out.” Annie patted his shoulder. “I like the one who looks like a king. Maybe it was him.”
Betsy shook her head. “My mama said it was a good Samaritan.” Her mouth puckered. “But I don’t know who he is either.”
Noah chuckled. “Maybe it’s not important where they came from, but more importantly, their needs were met. That’s what Thanksgiving is all about, right?”
Betsy blinked, then her mouth spread into a wide grin. “Deputy Scott, you’re teasing. Thanksgiving is about the pilgrims. Remember when we pretended to be in the Mayflower?”
Noah hid his chuckle behind a cough. The rustling of skirts caught his attention. He slowly rose and took in the scene of Emma and Miss Adams’ approach. The late afternoon highlighted the cascade of mahogany curls flowing across the teacher’s shoulder. He tipped his hat.
“Hello, girls.” Emma smiled. “Can you excuse the deputy for a little while? He hasn’t had a chance to eat yet and he must be starving.”
“All right.” Annie waved at Miss Adams. “Teacher, while he’s eating, you might want to review the facts about Thanksgiving. Deputy Scott already forgot.”
~
Noah took another bite of cornbread dressing and closed his eyes, savoring the added flavor from the giblet gravy. “It’s delicious, isn’t it?” Miss Adams licked her lips.
He cleared his throat, then settled for a quick nod of affirmation. Noah felt sure his aunt purposely maneuvered the situation to seat him beside the teacher. He’d been surprisingly content until the sawmill owner showed up and monopolized her attention, talking about his niece and nephew. It was a contrived meeting if ever there was one. Thankfully the mayor had pulled him aside about a business matter.
Garnet's Gift Page 3
