by Kari Trumbo
Harland smiled as he waited by the desk, but Barton spoke first. “Sir, Mr. Lawson was having a rather loud and inappropriate conversation before class started. He showed very little tact and some of the young ladies in class heard it.”
“You mean your precious Lula heard it, don’t you, Mr. Oleson?”
Professor Cook glanced between the two. “Mr. Lawson, I heard your remarks as well.” That made the boy go pale. “From now on, keep your private talks private. Parents will have you out on the street if you aren’t careful. You have a promising career ahead of you if you can learn when to speak and when not to. Dismissed.”
Harland nodded but glared at Barton as he left the room.
The professor turned his gaze on Barton. “Don’t try to defend yourself. I know exactly what he was alluding to – I suspected it on the very first day of class. What are your intentions, Barton?”
Barton’s stomach turned to rock, but what did he have to lose if the professor already knew? “I intend to marry her after the conclusion of the school year, sir.”
“Your forbearance shows good judgment.” Professor Cook folded his hands on his desk. “I also had my eye on Miss Arnsby, but for a completely separate reason. There is a small country school near Belle Fourche, just west of town – perhaps you’ve heard of it? Two rooms, twenty students. I think she would make an excellent teacher there. I was planning to recommend her.”
No. If she got one of the few recommendations … she could be on her own, and might not need him … “Sir, why did you ask my plans regarding Lul … Miss Arnsby, if your aim was to take away my chances?”
“I have no intention of ‘taking away your chances,’ boy. That particular school has been in need for over a year. They likely won’t care if their teacher is married, especially not if she’s married to a member of a prominent family from the area. It would make it even easier to accept her, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t have to wait? We could marry right away?” If so, he had to find Lula to tell her.
“No, I’m afraid not. You still have your contract. If you’re caught with Miss Arnsby, it will break it, as well as destroying her chances of graduating and getting this referral. But I have faith in both of you. You’ve waited this long – just keep it up for another few months. And know that the Lord sees your plight and is making a way for you, just as I endeavor to.”
Barton winced. But they were no worse off than they were before, and Professor Cook could be a powerful help. Now he and Lula just had to bide their time and keep a safe distance so the Lord’s plan – and the professor’s – could come to fruition.
Chapter 22
Lula’s room was too quiet. She drummed her fingers on her desk, worrying. Barton would never treat her as Harland had treated Izzy, would he? He’d never speak flippantly in public about their intimacies…
Now Izzy would be there any moment to collect her belongings. She should tell Izzy, but how? And would she be alone, or would Harland be there to help her? A sick dread lodged in her throat.
A rap on the door tugged her thoughts back, and she stood to answer as Izzy opened it and peeked inside. “Lula! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Her voice was overly bright and nothing like Izzy normally sounded. “We moved into the apartment this morning and I got everything we have settled, but then it was just terribly boring. Harland doesn’t want me to leave the apartment. He’s worried that other men will steal me away.” She chuckled but again the sound was fake. Izzy drew Lula over to her old bed and sat her down. “Harland was in the strangest mood when he came home from class today. I told him I was seeing you and he became angry.”
Lula chewed on her lip. If she were in Izzy’s position, she would want to know. But Harland was different, and he and Izzy had only spent a handful of evenings together. She couldn’t know the real Harland.
“Lula?” Izzy tilted her head to look her straight in the eye. “What do you know?”
“Well …” Nothing for it, then. “… Harland was probably embarrassed. He got into a bit of trouble in class today.” She wouldn’t say anything more if Izzy didn’t press her.
“Harland? He’s so quiet and reserved. I can’t imagine him getting in trouble. Perhaps it was just coming back to class after such a long holiday.”
If Harland’s words were true, the holiday had not been quite what he was hoping for. Harland had discovered that women wore garments that changed their shape, and Izzy was no different from any other in that respect. He’d felt cheated to find that she didn’t look anything like the silhouette of her skirts. Specifically, that she was weightier than he’d thought. Hopefully, he would be pleased with the woman he chose, in time.
Izzy laid her hand on Lula’s arm. “Oh, and Lula, I’ve got everything ready for you to visit Friday evening. I’ll invite you and Mr. Oleson for supper. There’s no reason you can’t because it would be me setting it up, not you. If anyone asks, I would say that I’d invited my dearest friend, and Harland invited Barton. It was pure happenstance that you ended up at our home together. And if Harland knows what’s good for him, he won’t say a word.”
If Harland knew what was best for him, Lula thought, he wouldn’t have spoken so much already. But she looked forward to sitting at a table with Barton, it was something to give her hope to make it through the school year. Her schooling no longer held her attention, since she might never use it. Above all, she wanted Barton. “That sounds wonderful, Izzy – thank you so much.”
Izzy smiled wickedly. “I may not have known my Harland long before he proposed, but I know him well now. You and Barton have been acquainted so much longer and I see the need between you. Now that I’ve felt it, I can’t even fathom what you’re going through. I’m afraid I missed Harland so much during the day that I almost threw myself at him when he returned home. He might have been put off by my brazen behavior.”
Lula didn’t know what to say to that, especially since she knew Harland was not happy with the portion of the marriage that was supposed to stay behind closed doors, so she settled for blushing silently.
Izzy blushed too and laughed as she glanced around the room. “I keep telling myself that the Lord created these passions in us for our husbands. But when you’re taught your whole life to be chaste and modest … perhaps I went too far and my poor, quiet Harland just wasn’t prepared for such a bride. Or, maybe I thought if I tried…he would say something kind.” Her voice trailed off.
Harland hadn’t been prepared for any bride at all, it seemed. Lula couldn’t imagine Barton ever turning away affection unless they were with others – and certainly not talking about it with others. He’d drawn her to him, cherished her, protected her even from himself.
Hattie had taken her aside during the holiday break and explained just what happened between men and women once they were wed, and how powerful the urges could be, but Lula had never actually experienced them. She had no business passing on information that would only be secondhand. Yet Harland’s behavior in class was so inappropriate … if she were in Izzy’s position, she’d want to know.
Lula chose her words with care. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having passion for your husband. The Lord created love. He is love, and it was His plan that this type of love be shared only between a married couple …” Lula sighed and bit her lip for a moment. Where did she go from there? It wasn’t like Izzy could leave him, but she had to know.
Izzy sensed something and leaned away. “What are you not telling me?”
Lula was on the verge of tears. “Izzy. I’m sorry. It wasn’t that Harland was overexcited in class today. He was saying some horrible things … intimate things … as he came into class today. I overheard him, Barton did … even Professor Cook heard him and took him to task. I didn’t want to say anything, it was so embarrassing, but you have to know.”
Izzy froze. “He talked about our intimacies … in class?” She turned pale, then red as a radish. “Did everyone hear?”
“I don
’t know. He wasn’t yelling, but he wasn’t being quiet either.” Lula felt her own face flame, remembering his mention of certain of Izzy’s curves and his none too high of them, of some of her actions and how he found them ripe for jocularity …
Izzy was silent for a moment, then pursed her lips. “Well, it isn’t like I’ll be sitting in that class anymore, so I won’t have to see those people.” Her hands shook as she clutched her gloves, and her chin tightened. The stubborn Izzy, the only girl out of eight children, was re-emerging.
“I understood the desires he was talking about, because I talked to my sisters while I was home – to make sure I wasn’t as horrible and fallen as I was feeling.” Lula pulled out her handkerchief.
Izzy avoided Lula’s eyes. “I gather you finally talked to Hattie about her past. You’ve held her at a different standard than your other sisters for quite some time. Have you forgiven her?” Her voice was quiet but probing.
Lula had to consider that – had she been unforgiving with Hattie? It had been difficult to understand what had happened. She’d only been twelve when Hattie left – or rather, was taken. She knew now that her sister had been tricked into leaving, then sold into prostitution. But for so long there’d been a heaviness over their whole house. Hattie had come back completely changed, forgiven, free of guilt … and in love.
Finally she said, “I never really thought I had to forgive her – a life of sin wasn’t her choice. But yes. Hattie and I did talk about my future, about Barton and what having a good marriage means. She’s always been frank, and I needed that. And I needed my other married sisters’ counsel as well about …” about the passion Barton had stirred. Why was it so hard to admit it out loud? Even when Izzy had made a similar declaration?
“I’m glad. You’ve always spoken about how wonderful your friendships are with your sisters, and I’d always been curious about what held you back from Hattie. I’ve only met her once, when she and her husband came with Mr. Rockford to pick you up.”
A harsh knock on the door had Lula scrambling to answer it. Too many questions about Hattie would only lead to opening old secrets back up. Those were fine just where they were – in the past – and Lula sensed Izzy was trying to distract herself from her own situation.
She opened the door to find Mrs. Keets, the house mother, with her hands on her hips and a glare that could cut glass. The long hair that stuck out just above her lip was quivering. “Lula Arnsby, there is a man waiting downstairs for his wife. He is rather impatient.”
Izzy stood and covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Oh my! I haven’t packed a single thing – I’ve been sitting here chatting. What will he think? Poor dear.”
Poor dear, my foot. Though even Izzy’s endearment didn’t at all as besotted as any other new wife might and more likely she’d said it for the benefit of the house mother. Lula prayed that Izzy and Harland could work out their differences. “I’ll save you the trouble. I’ll ask Mr. Oleson to rent a buckboard from the livery in Spearfish and we’ll bring the rest of your things on Friday. Mr. Oleson and I can walk back to campus after supper.”
“Oh, Lula, you’d do that? Thank you so much! I do hate to keep him waiting.”
“Of course, I would. Go.” She shooed her friend from the room and closed the door.
Lula went back to her desk and sat. That conversation had marked a change in their friendship. Izzy was still her closest and dearest friend, but now she was married to a man who didn’t love her, or at least loved her incompletely. She knew she’d hesitate to share things with Izzy for fear she might tell Harland. Closest and dearest friends didn’t lie or keep secrets. Harland’s thoughtless words could change the friendship, never to be repaired. And Friday’s supper would be an interesting one indeed.
A scrawled note lay on Barton’s desk in the teachers’ office. His hopes soared. He hadn’t gotten to speak to Lula after class, since he’d been detained – thanks, Harland – and he hadn’t seen her at supper either. His eyes craved just one sight of her; his ears, one word.
He picked up the note … and it wasn’t her writing. Most women wrote similarly, penmanship being one thing teachers pounded into their students, but he’d recognize Lula’s writing anywhere. Still, Lula’s name was at the bottom … he quickly scanned it. Isabella Harmon – correction, Izzy Lawson – wanted him to come to dinner Friday, and Lula would be there.
He crumpled the note and tossed it in the fireplace so it couldn’t be found. Harland would never let that opportunity pass, even if it was his new wife’s invitation. He could find a way to put he and Lula in a compromising situation. No, it wouldn’t be good to go, no matter how much he wanted to spend time with Lula. Not with Harland there.
Barton grabbed his almost-new Stetson and slid the brim through his hands. Pa had gotten him the hat when he’d graduated, hoping his son would change his mind and stay with the family business. It hadn’t happened, but he still missed the ranch, the work, and the camaraderie with his brothers. Having Lula there would make it perfect. Even if she were working, she’d also be there making his life complete. He put it on as he ducked out the door and headed down the hill toward the livery. A short ride would do him good.
When he reached the edge of the campus, near the last lamppost, he spotted Lula walking ahead. He jogged toward her and she startled and turned just as he approached, her look of utter happiness stopping his heart. “Hello, beautiful.” The words slipped from him before he could think.
Her cheeks glowed under his words and he reached for her. She met him and they embraced for a moment. Would it ever stop being a wonder how well she fit just right with him?
Lula stepped back and her gaze dropped to his feet. “I’m sorry I rushed out of class this evening. Izzy was stopping by and I didn’t want to miss her.”
There was more to it, he knew. She never avoided his eyes anymore. “And did you see her?”
“Yes, and she had a wonderful idea to invite you and I to supper on Friday so we could spend a few minutes together.” She reached for his hand.
He couldn’t keep from giving her what she desired. It was his biggest problem and greatest weakness. “I’m sorry, Lula, but I really can’t go.”
Her gaze flew back to his, and the hurt in it took his breath from his lungs. “Why not? Don’t you want to see me outside school? It’s perfect because they are married, and Harland could’ve invited you … oh.”
Now she saw it too. She hadn’t been in the classroom when Harland had talked with the professor, but she wasn’t dumb. “It’s probably worse than you think. Harland wants to get you expelled and me fired. I doubt Izzy asked Harland first, and if she did and he accepted, it was so he’d have an excellent excuse to report us. As it is, Professor Cook already knows about us.”
“He knows?” Her voice squeaked and she stepped away from him. “Then all is lost … if he knows, it’s only a matter of time until I’m expelled, and I won’t see you for months …”
He wanted to pull her right back against him, to cradle her fear away. “No, Lula, it’s not as bad as that. He doesn’t disapprove – he just warned me to be careful. Which I already knew – that’s why I think the invitation might turn into a trap.”
“I wish you weren’t right, but I think you are,” Lula sobbed. “Really, we shouldn’t be seen out here – anyone could walk down the hill. I’m so sorry, Barton. I’ll go on Friday, but I understand why you can’t. And I’ll be very careful around Harland.”
“Thank you for understanding.” He reached for her again, and she dashed into his arms for a quick but powerful kiss. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He needed this, in every sense, and maybe so did she, to dispel her fear pouring off of her.
She pulled away, a tear streaking down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t just leave you. I love you, Barton.” She bunched her skirt in her fists and ran back toward the school.
Barton sighed. He hoped he’d helped her see that she wasn’t in danger from the professor
, though the jury was out on Harland. If they were afraid to be seen together, though, they would be safe, her future secure. But the burn of her lips on his proved how hard that would be. How would he live trough Friday worried about her with Harland? There were far too many things he could do to hurt her.
Chapter 23
Friday, class ended early and Lula couldn’t have been happier. She had to rush to the livery, rent a wagon, bring it back, load all of Izzy’s belongings and drive it to Izzy’s new home in town, all before it got too dark. Thank Heaven she’d already packed Izzy’s trunk – she’d just need someone to haul it to the wagon. Harland would have to carry it up to their apartment, since Barton wouldn’t be joining them.
The January wind bit at her cheeks as she walked to town. She’d hoped for warmer weather, but in the Hills chilly was preferable to snowy. She’d sent a note to the livery the day before to reserve a rig, promising an advance from her Christmas money.
As she ducked into the warm livery to pay, a familiar face greeted her. “Barton? What are you doing here?” Her heart skipped a beat. Outside of class, dressed in work clothes for riding, he was handsome enough to take her breath away.
“I just got back from a quick ride after class and they mentioned you might be on your way. I thought I’d help you while I was here.” He directed her back out into the cold.
“Wait, I still need to pay.” She twisted to return.
Barton caught her before she could. “I took care of it. I know you don’t have much right now – you aren’t working, and there’s no need for your family to send you money while you’re at school. Since I’m working, would you let me do this for you?”
His old-fashioned way chivalry made her see he was doing things for her, in such a way that she could enjoy it. “I’ll accede to your help, Mr. Oleson. Thank you.” She held out her hand like a regal lady, since that’s how he made her feel. He took her gloved hand in his and kissed it.
