by Kari Trumbo
Sparks in Spearfish
Seven Brides of South Dakota: Book 5
Kari Trumbo
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Historical Elements
Also by Kari Trumbo
About the Author
Sparks in Spearfish
© 2017 Kari Trumbo
Published by Kari Trumbo, All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, without the prior written consent of the author. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible
Author’s note: This is a work of fiction. All locations, characters, names, and actions are a product of the author’s overactive imagination. Any resemblance, however subtle, to living persons or actual places and events are coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Lula Arnsby can't wait for graduation, when she can finally be rid of the bully Barton Oleson.
At the Spearfish Normal School, Lula is ready to begin a whole new chapter of her life by finishing her studies to become a teacher. Her life seems over when Barton, the one man she couldn't wait to be rid of, strides into her class as the new teacher’s assistant. She wants nothing to do with the handsome prankster.
But his aim isn’t to torment her anymore. He got what he deserved after tormenting Lula one too many times. He wants to be noticed by the pixie-haired beauty – without his normal tricks. He’s spent the last two years making sure she thinks of him every day, but he’s running out of time to win her heart – and her trust. Only one school year until she will be a teacher … and out of his reach.
Is it enough time to make up for two years of hurt? Can Lula forgive all that he’s done?
Chapter 1
Spearfish Normal School,
Spearfish, South Dakota, 1895
“I’ll hate you ‘til the day you die, Barton Oleson!” Lula Arnsby screamed. She ran her hand through her hair, which was clumped under the weight of the butter Barton had just mashed into it. In the South Dakota spring heat, it would curdle in no time.
Barton stopped running and turned back to her. “Better run home and wash up, buttercup, before you attract flies!” He dashed around to the front of the large brick boarding school.
Lula blinked back the tears she’d held in all year. Barton had tormented her since the first day she’d joined his class at Spearfish Normal School. Mrs. Tomlinson the teacher was strict, but she’d never managed to catch Barton in the act, leaving Lula looking like a spoiled child, complaining about him without cause.
At sixteen and having been schooled close to home her whole life, she’d been unprepared for boarding school, even questioning if she wanted to stay. It was now the final term of the year and she would soon go home to Deadwood to see her family. She’d wanted to be the very first Arnsby to earn a certificate and hold an important job, but the longer she stayed the less she wanted it. Teaching was a noble profession, something she could aspire to, but not if she couldn’t even convince one boy to leave her be.
At least she only had to deal with him one more year. Then she’d probably never see his face again. He came from a long line of cowboys, or so he liked to boast. Teaching would never interest him, so he’d be done at the end of primary school. She’d be free then, provided she had the will to stick with it. Maybe she should talk to her brother-in-law Beau when she got home – he would have wise words.
Her dearest friend Isabelle Harmon – “Izzy” to her closest friends – ran up to her, her dark braids bouncing against her back. “Lula, what in tarnation happened to you?” She touched a clumped curl and grimaced. “That’s horrible. I can’t believe anyone would do that after the announcement this morning.”
Lula’s heart tripped. “What announcement?” Lula hadn’t been there for the morning reading because someone had put tobacco juice on her seat, and it had soaked through her best beige skirt. It was even now soaking in a washtub to get the stain out.
“We need to conserve water. The water in the well is too low. No bathing – only the washbasin until it rains.”
“But … surely they would consider this necessary!” She couldn’t keep the shriek from her voice. Even now, her hair was matted and the flies swarmed above her head.
“We’d better go talk to Mrs. Keets.” Izzy wrapped a chubby protective arm around her waist but avoided touching her hair. Mrs. Keets was the dorm matron and taught some other class, though Lula had never paid attention to which. Lula’s hours outside class were full of preparing for the next day, reading and cleaning up whatever mess Barton had left for her.
“That boy is a menace.” Izzy clicked her tongue, her blue eyes sparking indignantly. “You’d think he’d tire of picking on you.”
“I wouldn’t think. He hasn’t missed a single day for the entire term. I’ll be so glad to go home and be rid of him for a while.” The tears welled up again. He was making a failure out of her. Admitting to Beau and Ruby that she couldn’t do another year would be a disappointment after they’d sacrificed so much to send her.
Izzy ushered her into Mrs. Keets’ small apartment at least for the school year. The wide-shouldered matron smiled for a moment, then her nose twitched. “Miss Arnsby, what sort of nonsense have you gotten yourself into now?” She stepped forward and yanked a clump of Lula’s hair closer to her face and Lula held in a shriek at the pain. “What is this?”
Lula couldn’t hold back the quaver in her voice. “It’s Barton again. He’s – put butter in my hair!”
“And just how is a boy supposed to get hold of butter? They aren’t allowed in the kitchens. I find that I am finished listening to you dither on about Barton. He’s been nothing but an exceptional student since the first day he came, while you’ve done nothing but complain about him since the day you arrived. Until you can temper your urges to get Barton Oleson in trouble, you are not allowed to wash your hair. It will remain that way until you decide to meet with him and apologize for your troublesome behavior.”
“But –” It just wasn’t fair. How could the teachers always side with him?
“I think I’ll find that by tomorrow, you’ll relent and I won’t hear any more about Barton.” Mrs. Keets turned away and crossed her arms, no doubt waiting for her to beg to apologize that instant.
Lula stood for a moment considering what she could say, then her anger built. “Do you think I put this in my hair myself?”
Mrs. Keets waved her off, not bothering to turn back to face her. “It is of no consequence. You’ve said that you want to teach, Miss Arnsby. Part of teaching is figuring out how to manage students bigger, stronger and sometimes, when you first get out of school, older than you. If Barton is bothering you … learn to manage him. Or find a new profession.”
Izzy dragged Lula out of the room before one of them said more that she would regret. “I might be able to help you get most of it out,” she whispered.
“If you do that, it will only get us bo
th in trouble. How I hate that boy. How will I ever apologize to him?”
Izzy shook her head and bit her lip. “I’m not sure. “Let’s work on combing your hair out right away. You certainly can’t sleep tonight with that.”
Lula fingered her hair once more. “If it wasn’t so completely horrible, I’d just leave it. I don’t owe him anything – he owes me an apology, not the other way around.”
“That will never happen – you and I both know it. Barton is from Belle Fourche, cattle money. His pa probably pays near a fortune to make sure he stays out of trouble.”
“I’m not so lucky.” Lula opened the hall door to the dormitory she shared with fifteen other girls, then stopped. “No. I may as well get this over with. I have to get it out before class tomorrow.” She turned and headed back to Mrs. Keets’ room.
“Godspeed,” Izzy whispered and closed the door before the other girls could notice.
Lula hid in the shadows as she made her way back to Mrs. Keets’ room. She knocked on the apartment door and Mrs. Keets answered, frowning. Inside, Barton and a male teacher waited. “Come to your senses so quickly? Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”
Lula stepped into the room and Barton’s blue eyes caught and held hers. He was a handsome boy. His warm brown hair was always perfect, even after wearing a hat, and his clothes never had a spot, right down to the fancy leather of his boots. If he wasn’t such a bully, he might’ve had her heart. She resisted the urge to scowl and back away.
“Lula.” He raised an insufferable eyebrow. If things had been different between them, she might like that particular quirk. It reminded her subtly of Beau.
She reined in her thoughts and took a shallow breath. She had no idea what Beau would do in her situation but being mousy dreaming of home probably wasn’t it. “Barton,” she whispered, chin down.
He stepped forward, so close the scent of leather wafted over her. But she couldn’t back away or she’d look rude, combative … exactly how she felt, Mrs. Keets couldn’t know that. This had to go perfectly so she could clean up – even her white shirtwaist would need to be washed now.
“Are you sorry for those hateful words you spoke in the courtyard?” he whispered. He looked her right in the eyes. Blast! Why did he have to have such pretty eyes?
She narrowed her own at him. He could make her say them, but she’d never feel any differently. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prodded, his voice a caress from a foot away.
She sighed and closed her eyes to block the view of a face too handsome to hate, but she did just the same. “I’m sorry I said I’ll hate you ‘til the day you die.” Which was true to a point – she was sorry she’d said it. And never mind that he’d soiled her hair before she spoke – Mrs. Keets clearly didn’t care.
He laughed. “See, that wasn’t so hard. It was almost like we had a real…conversation.” He managed to break through her resolve to avert her eyes, but seeing the intensity of his gaze, she had to look away again. She held her breath and bit her tongue, too afraid Mrs. Keets would take back her promise.
The matron touched Lula’s shoulder. “That’s fine. Let’s go to the kitchen and get you cleaned up. It’s looking like it will be a grand day tomorrow.”
If only it were. Lula wished tomorrow was the last day. She made a fist to keep from screaming at the smug cowboy staring at her as she turned to leave.
Chapter 2
Spearfish Normal School, May 1897
Two long years later …
Lula smiled at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. She’d stayed in school, biting her tongue at every turn just to make it to this, her first day of teacher training in autumn. Nine months from now, she’d have her certificate and could apply for a position as an assistant at some small South Dakota school.
She untied the bow at her collar and tried again. It would have to be perfect. She wanted to impress the teacher and the other students. And it had been so long since she’d dressed to look nice instead of to hide from Barton.
Faithful Izzy stood behind her and rested her hands on Lula’s shoulders. “You look just fine. We should get to class a little early so we can find good seats and watch who comes in. I wonder if we’ll know anyone else?” She gathered her papers, pencils and book and waited.
“None of the other students had any interest in teaching, but anything’s possible.” As long as one particular boy stayed far away, the whole state of South Dakota could join the class and she’d still be happy. The mirror caught Lula one last time and she couldn’t help being pleased. She hadn’t worn her curls down at school since Barton had buttered them …
The smile slipped from her face. Thinking of him would ruin a perfectly good start to a new year and she wouldn’t sacrifice another. He’d made her last two years of school a torment, but this, this year, she would enjoy.
She grabbed her own supplies and followed Izzy to a part of the school she’d never been to before, within the large brick three-story Administration building at Spearfish Normal School. The room smelled of blackboard-cleaning solution, but in a few days only the smell of chalk would linger. A few rows of desks large enough for adults ran the length of the yellow room. The high tin ceiling was white with fresh paint, the oiled wood floor gleamed, and windows reached from her knee to well above her head, letting the bright sun in.
Izzy chose a desk in the very middle of the room, and Lula followed, sitting next to her so they could talk before class. They were the first to enter, and the silence in the room lent itself to whispering. They’d heard that the professor who ran the school had been there for many years and taught the classes for teachers.
As the clock ticked, excitement built in Lula’s stomach. Six other women and eight men she didn’t recognize wandered in and found seats within the room. Their muffled speech bounced off the walls, creating enough racket that she and Izzy couldn’t talk. Down the hall, she heard the sound of children excited by their first day and her heart exalted with them. She couldn’t wait to experience that joy of bringing young people together to learn!
Her own little country school had been wonderful, filled with friends and learning. But when she’d decided at age sixteen that she wanted to teach, Beau and Ruby had arranged for her to come to Spearfish the following year, to get the best schooling they could afford before she started training for her certificate. Now, a year away from her goal, she was finally able to enjoy herself and focus on learning.
Izzy gasped and her eyes grew wide as she stared at a spot over Lula’s right shoulder. Lula spun in her seat to see what had disturbed her – just as she felt a tug on one of her precious curls. A sick feeling landed in her stomach. She didn’t need much help interpreting the look of horror on Izzy’s face – she knew.
Lula slowly turned all the way to face the boy who’d tormented her for so long. Instead of the normal brown trousers and crisp white shirt of a student, he wore a suit with a neat string tie and a high collar covering most of his neck, but his blue eyes still sparkled with barely contained mischief. Worse still, he was more handsome than ever. “If it isn’t Miss Arnsby. Good to see a familiar face.” He smiled playfully, a look that on anyone else would’ve been irresistible.
Lula thought she might explode from frustration. For years, Barton had teased her about wanting to be a schoolmarm. What could he possibly be doing in her class – now that she’d hoped to finally be rid of him?
Barton strode toward his new classroom and said a quick prayer that Lula hadn’t changed her mind or switched schools on him. Not that teaching schools were abundant anywhere, and none were closer than Spearfish Normal for the people in and around the Black Hills.
He paused outside the door to calm his nerves. At the end of term last year, after two years of trying to get Lula’s attention, he’d almost given up. Almost. That girl was a part of him as much as his arm. And though he could survive without either, he’d prefer not to.
On the last day of school three months ago, p
rimary graduation, Pa had arrived to collect him and his things to go home. Lula’s parents arrived also, and he watched their tearful reunion. There was something about Lula’s tears that were off. And the way her pa had strode off toward his own Pa, angry-like, told him he might be in a heap of trouble.
Sure enough, Pa was silent all the way home to Belle Fourche, and that was the scariest kind of mad. That ride gave Barton plenty of time to think about how to calm Pa down, but nothing came to mind. When Pa was at odds, Pa stayed angry until he decided he was done.
When they got home, Pa unhitched the wagon and told him to wait in the woodshed. It had been the longest yet shortest wait of his life. Pa gave him a whipping’ he’d never forget, all right, but that wasn’t the worst part. That came after, when Pa set him on a stump out back, man to future man, and explained there were ways to treat a young lady – and how he’d been acting wasn’t it.
He remembered now how his hands trembled as he’d told Pa how pretty she was with her mass of blonde curls, how it had all started so innocently. He’d just wanted to touch one curl … but she’d yanked her head away and accused him of pulling. He hadn’t, he’d just been holding. But every time she’d turn red and get angry with him, it excited him more. Those blue eyes…
Every time she said she hated him, she was talking to him and that was all that mattered. After he’d pulled her hair, she’d branded him trouble and he’d done his best to live up to it. If that was the only attention she’d give him, he’d take it. He didn’t know how else to get her attention after, and she wouldn’t talk to him otherwise. The few times he’d tried to be nice, she’d run.
