by Lynn Donovan
Mr. Greenleaf chuckled. “Well, no, of course you do not have to leave town, we just assumed—”
“Yeah, I’d say!” Her temper flared in her gut. “You assumed a lot, I’d say!” Swallowing in an attempt to get control over her anger, she pursed her lips and took a quick breath. “This isn’t fair! It’s not right! I’m in the middle of grading papers. The students are in the middle of a very important assignment.” Not really, but he didn’t know that. “How can you just walk in here… and fire me?”
“Again.” Mr. Greenleaf unnecessarily adjusted his glasses. “You are not being fired. Simply replaced with a more suitable teacher.”
Emma Grace felt her face flush with heat. Her palms stung from her nails piercing her skin. She hadn’t even realized she had fisted her hands. “Bull… corn… sticks!”
Mr. Greenleaf cocked his head back on his shoulders. “I beg your pardon! How dare you speak in such a manner!”
Emma Grace glared at him, then Mr. Williams. “How dare you fire me for no reason! I have done an excellent job in that classroom. Those students are learning and growing—”
“No one is judging your methods, Miss Humphries.”
Mr. Williams raised his brows as if he disagreed but said nothing. She wanted to slap that smug look off his face. Her fists tightened.
“You have twenty-four hours to vacate the cottage. You may take any personal items from the cottage, but please leave the educational materials in the classroom. The school board purchased said items, after all. And we wouldn’t want Mr. Williams to have to begin on Monday without supplies. Textbooks, chalk, slates, pens, ink, and the like. You understand?”
“No.” Emma Grace blurted. “I most certainly do not understand.” She had created every bit of those educational materials. Didn’t she have some sort of copyright to the readers? She wrote the stories herself. She designed the workbooks. Mr. Staples printed them for her based on her handwritten sketches. How could these be the property of the school board?
“Well,” Mr. Greenleaf grimaced with raised eyebrows. “You have twenty-four hours to understand and vacate the cottage. Mark my words, Miss Humphries, if you take a single piece of paper from that classroom, we will be forced to inform the authorities you are responsible for theft.”
“Theft!” She gasped, staggering back from the man.
“I’ll see to it the children are released. You should go ahead and get started packing your things in the cottage. We have a woman coming to clean Sunday after church, and Mister Williams will settle in by that evening. So, please be sure you have everything out by Saturday afternoon. Oh, and we have taken the liberty of retrieving your trunk from storage.”
“My-my trunk?”
“Yes. The one you had when you arrived here four years ago. We stored it for you at no charge.” A smug smile curled on his lips. “It will be delivered before this evening, along with a crate for your poultry.”
She tilted her head, staring at Mr. Greenleaf in disbelief. Her trunk? It had been her late grandmother’s. An attorney had given Emma Grace permission to take whatever she wanted or needed before the final estate sale. Knowing she was moving to Franklin, Ohio to teach, she only wanted the trunk for her meager belongings. She fingered the timepiece brooch attached to her bodice. It had been Grandmother’s, also.
The trunk was held together by tacking and glue. If they had stored it in a dry place, would it hold together well enough to hold her things now? “But, I have nowhere to go. I have no family, no friends. You saw to that with great diligence, you forbade me from socializing. What do you expect me to do, now?”
He nodded, then shrugged, as if that was all he could say and turned. Mr. Williams followed Greenleaf back into the classroom. She heard the children begin to chatter loudly. The older children’s voices raised. Bless them for defending her. Chairs scuffed against the floor. Some of the children poured out the front door. Were they thrilled to have an early release, no matter the cost?
She didn’t want them to see her, so she hurried into her cottage. Well, no longer her cottage. Quickly, she closed the door and then the shades. Silhouettes of the children as they passed by the cottage could be seen on the drawn shades. Her heart sank to her knees.
She collapsed into a chair at her little table where Daniela and she had shared a laugh, a stale muffin, and tea. How could this be happening? Her throat tightened as her lip trembled. The sobs broke forth in violent waves. She buried her face in her hands. What on earth was she going to do?
Quickly, she shoved her finger into the envelope’s seal and fumbled to pull out the check. Blinking to clear her vision, she stared at the amount. That was what they considered generous? It was barely what they owed her through today, let alone the month. How was this supposed to help her relocate?
Uncontrollable sobs raked her body. She dropped her head on top of her arms on the table and let the emotions pour out of her body. What could she do? Speak to an attorney at law? She’d have to go to Columbus to do that. Only circuit judges came through Franklin. Talk to the Mayor? Would he be willing to help? Pastor Davis? Mrs. Davis? Could anybody in this town help her?
Slowly she rose, looked around at her belongings. Where could she possibly go? Did Daniela have room to put her up for a day or two? She was her only friend. There really was no one else to ask. Until her trunk arrived, she couldn’t exactly pack. She would go speak to Daniela for now. If nothing else, perhaps she’d have a suggestion for where Emma Grace could stay until she figured out what to do next.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Gavin filled the bushel washtub with warm water and bathed both of the babies, dressed them in their Sunday best, himself too, and loaded them in the wagon. He drove the mule to town, stopping at the undertaker first. The Sallee family had a section in the cemetery, so it wasn’t a difficult task to arrange where they would be buried. Gavin looked over the hand drawn map and choose two plots next to Grandma and Grandpa Sallee. He barely remembered them, but surely Poppa would want their final resting place to be next to his own parents.
Mr. Bivens had already prepared Gavin’s folks for burial. He had asked for their clothing when he arrived last night to take their bodies. Mrs. Bivens touched up Momma’s hair and put a colored cream on both their faces. They looked… peaceful, laid out in simple pine boxes for anyone to come pay their respects. The nicer coffins had already been used. Even if Gavin could have afforded a better box to bury his folks in, there were none available in Seward. Cole and Lily didn’t even try to look in the pine box. Gavin understood and didn’t force them. Mr. Bivens gave Gavin his momma and poppa’s wedding rings before he sealed the coffins for good.
Momma and Poppa could be buried tomorrow, since Dean Barkley, the undertaker’s helper had already started digging the graves. Gavin left the undertaker’s home satisfied he had done all he could for his parents.
Next, he drove over to Pastor Davis’s parsonage beside the chapel on Second Street. He helped Cole and Lily down from the wagon and took their hands to walk to the door. Mrs. Davis opened it before Gavin could knock.
“Oh, Gavin.” Her eyes dropped to the little ones at his side. An empathetic expression filled her face. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Do come in,” She stepped back and Gavin led his brother and sister into the parlor. “Would you care for some tea? Or coffee?”
“Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble, and milk to these two.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Davis hurried to the kitchen. Gavin sat on a divan, pulling his siblings onto the cushion with him. Pastor Davis entered the parlor with a morose frown. “Well, I’ve been expecting you, Gavin. So sorry to hear about your parents.”
“Thank you.” He swallowed. Cole and Lily sat in silence. Gavin prayed they could hold it together, but he expected them to start crying any minute. This was so much harder on them. “Mister Bivens said he can have everything ready by tomorrow. What time is good for you?”
“Oh, I’d think ten o’clock would be g
ood.”
Gavin nodded. “I think we’ll spend the night at Aunt Carolyn’s.” He had assumed this. His aunt and uncle had a farm just outside of town. It was a shorter ride than to go back to his farm, making it more convenient to return for the services the next morning. She was to be his last stop. “So, ten will be fine for us as well.”
“Good. We’ve had so many of these, I don’t know if you can count on the community to bring food, but you never know. At least I do know you three will get a hot meal tonight at the Collins’s home.”
Gavin furrowed his brow. “Actually, Momma taught me to cook. We had stew and biscuits last night.”
“Oh, well.” Pastor cleared his throat. “That’s good.” He looked down at his knees. “So, what else can I do for you?”
“Actually, I was hoping to ask Mrs. Davis something.” Gavin glanced to the door to the kitchen. As if on cue, Mrs. Davis entered the parlor with a tray.
She set it on the low table near the divan. “Here’s coffee for you, Gavin.” She handed him a steaming cup. “And milk for Lily and Cole.” She smiled at the younger two as she handed them glass cups. Cole and Lily eagerly took the milk. She had a plate with cookies, which delighted the little ones, too. Gavin smiled at their joy. It was nice to see them happy.
“So, Mrs. Davis. I was wondering if you knew someone, from the church, who would be willing to come to the farm… and help with the babies while I work the fields. If she could cook a hot meal for the evening and just look after Cole and Lily during the day, I’d be willing to pay her, once the crops come in—”
“So.” Mrs. Davis cut in. “You’re planning to raise the little ones by yourself?”
Gavin stared at her. “Well, yeah. Of course. It was Momma’s dying wish, that I take care of the babies.”
Mrs. Davis glanced at Pastor Davis. She returned her gaze to Gavin. “But, Gavin, you’re not even seventeen. How are you going to run your poppa’s farm, and raise two little ones all alone?”
Gavin swallowed. He had no idea. “That’s why I’m asking if you know someone who could help.”
Pastor Davis cleared his throat. “Have you considered sending for a mail order bride?”
Gavin gulped. “A-a mail order bride? No, I hadn’t considered that.”
“Well, it might be an idea. Although at your age, I don’t know…” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Elizabeth Freeman might have a better idea.”
“Widow Freeman?” Gavin glanced at Mrs. Davis. “The matchmaker?”
Mrs. Davis nodded vigorously. “To be honest, Gavin, I don’t think any of the ladies from the auxiliary would be willing to come all the way out to your farm on a daily basis, and if your aunt Carolyn isn’t willing—”
“Who said Aunt Carolyn wasn’t willing to come help?”
“Well, I…” Mrs. Davis pursed her lips. What did she know that Gavin didn’t?
“Has she said anything to you? We were going to stop by her place later, to spend the night, since our folks’ funeral is tomorrow.”
“Oh, good. You can discuss it with her then.” Mrs. Davis busied herself with pouring more coffee and handing the babies another cookie. Obviously, that was all she planned to say about the matter.
Gavin glanced at his siblings. “Well, Doc Savage asked me to come by to see him, so I guess we’ll be going.” He stood and pulled Cole and Lily to their feet. He brushed the cookie crumbs off their mouths and the front of their clothes, set their empty milk glasses on the tray beside his coffee cup, and stepped toward the door. The Davises rose with him. “All right, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Shall we just meet at the cemetery?”
“Yes.” Gavin didn’t make eye contact. Momma would have fussed at him, but right now he was annoyed with Mrs. Davis’s lack of help. A mail order bride, indeed. He wasn’t ready to take on a wife! How could he? His seventeenth birthday was tomorrow. What a way to celebrate.
Although he knew a boy from school who had married at seventeen. It wasn’t unheard of, but they lived with her parents. Gavin no longer had that option. He pulled up to Doc’s house. Mrs. Savage met him at the porch. “Doc’s round back, Gavin.” She called to him before he had the two little ones down from the wagon.
“Thank you, Missus Savage.” Gavin took his siblings by the hands and walked around to the clinic part of the residence. Doc sat at his desk. Gavin saw him through a screen door that let a breeze pass through. Clever. Gavin examined the screened door. Maybe he should make one of these for the farm. “Doc?” Gavin stepped into the clinic.
Doc jerked. Was he asleep? “Oh, Gavin. Come in, come in. Have a seat.” He gestured to some chairs against the wall and leaned toward the little ones. “Do you know anybody who might want a rock candy on a stick?”
Doc grinned wide, as he handed Cole and Lily some candy sticks from the jar on his desk. They laughed and took the candy straight to their mouths.
Gavin lifted Cole and Lily onto a chair and sat between them. “So, Momma and Poppa’s funeral is tomorrow at ten. I figure we’ll stay the night at Aunt Carolyn’s since they aren’t as far out-of-town as our pla—”
“Oh, really?” Doc’s eyes widened and then his brow furrowed. What did he know? The pastor and his wife reacted the same way.
“What?” Gavin swallowed. Did he want to know? Aunt Carolyn had pitched a fit over where to bury Gavin’s momma yesterday. Gavin had made it very clear that he would bury his parents together, on his poppa’s side of the cemetery. Was she holding that against him? Didn’t he have a right to bury his parents where he knew they wanted? Would she disown him now that her sister was dead? Just when he needed his aunt and uncle the most, would they turn their backs on him?
“Am I wasting my time asking Aunt Carolyn to let us sleep at her house tonight?”
Doc sighed. “I’m not sure. Missus Collins is voicing strong opinions about her sister’s burial place.”
Gavin closed his eyes. “I don’t doubt it.” He sighed. “But surely it’ll blow over. Family is family. Blood thicker than water, and all that. Right?”
Doc lifted his bushy brow. “Well, it should be.”
Gavin sighed again. “I spoke to Mrs. Davis about asking a lady from the church to come to the farm to help with these little ones.” He chuckled. “You won’t believe what she suggested instead.”
Doc met him face on. “Put ’em on an orphan train?”
Gavin stared at Doc. “Wha—?” His heart pounded in his chest. “The orphan train? NO!” Gavin recomposed himself. “They suggested I send for a mail order bride— you think I should put them on the orphan train?” He felt the blood drain from his face. The room tilted slightly. He swallowed and focused on getting his breathing back to a normal pace. “I would never—”
Mrs. Savage opened the door leading from their house. “Sy, would you two like some tea?”
Gavin turned to glare at her. Did she think he should put his siblings on an orphan train, too? “Not for me, Missus Savage.”
“Thank you, Olly. We’re all right.” He turned his eyes to Gavin. “Look, son. I heard what your momma’s last words were to you. I understand you wanting to keep your promise to her. But is it realistic? You’re mighty young, and the farm is a lot to take care of. Not to mention children this young need a mother.”
“No one is gonna love my brother and sister more than I do. I’m not gonna give them to- to a stranger to raise. And certainly, I will not put them on a train bound to God Only Knows where they will be taken in, maybe, by God Only Knows who and for what reason!” When had Gavin stood? He looked at Doc with disbelief. How could he suggest such a thing?
Doc pumped his hands in an effort to calm Gavin down. “Now, now. No one is forcing you to do anything you don’t want to. I think you’re going to find that the path you are choosing is going to be a difficult one. Really difficult. We are just trying to help you choose an easier direction.”
“Doesn’t the Bible say something about the narrow road less chosen is the right direction?�
�
“Well, yes, yes, it does, son. But you’re only sixteen. Are you sure you can handle all this weight on your scrawny shoulders?”
Gavin clinched his teeth. “I plan to do my best, Doc.”
Doc smiled, but it was a resolute gesture. “I’m sure you do, Gavin.” He sighed. “All right. I’ve said my piece. Good luck to you, whatever you choose.” He tousled Cole’s hair. “You be good for your brother, hear?”
Cole stared blankly at the man, the wooden stick protruding from between his lips. Did he or Lily have any idea what had been discussed today? If they did, Gavin thought, they would be much more distraught. They both appeared to be oblivious to their fate other than the candy they vigorously devoured. He took their hands. “Come on. We’re gonna go see Aunt Carolyn and Uncle David next.”
Cole smiled around the stick. Lily nodded.
Chapter Five
Emma Grace tapped on Daniela’s door. She hated showing up unannounced and uninvited, but she was desperate. After all, she had twenty-four hours to move out of her cottage and find a room, otherwise, she’d be sleeping outdoors or hiding out in someone’s barn. That would never do. She shivered at the thought.
Daniela opened the door and gasped. “Oh! Miss Humphries!”
Why the formality? Daniela had become a close enough friend that they addressed each other by their Christian names. “Daniela? Have I come at a bad time?”
“No, well…” She glanced behind herself. Was her husband there? “I-what can I do for you?”
Did Daniela know? Did the whole town know she was to be fired today? “I just need… I was hoping to ask for your advice.”
Daniela glanced behind herself again. Who was making her so nervous? Jackson, her husband, had always been cordial to Emma Grace. Why would he not allow her to enter their home? She stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind her. “Let’s sit out here where it’s much cooler.”
