by Barbara Goss
“Pleased to meet you.” Kate shook each hand gingerly. “I’m looking forward to school, are you?” she asked the girls.
They nodded shyly.
“I’m twelve,” the tallest one offered hesitantly. “I can read.” She pointed behind her. “Ma taught me.”
“Excellent, you can help with the younger children.” Kate knew she’d said the right thing when Ellie smiled broadly.
“Are you gonna live with us, too?” blurted the darker- haired, younger sister. When Kate shrugged and smiled, the girl continued, “We can’t wait. Ma says you’ll like our house better than the Groom’s place, ‘cause their house is like a hog’s pen.”
“Martha!” Jane Kessler’s youthful-looking face turned crimson. “You mustn’t say such things.” Her faded blue eyes saddened as she apologized. “I’m sorry, Miss Hunter. Martha’s nearly eight and ought to know better.” Scratching her head, the mother claimed, “I just don’t know what to do with her. She comes up with the most embarrassing things.”
“I understand,” Kate empathized. “Martha reminds me of my sister, Em. At fifteen, she still manages to speak her mind, no matter what.”
“Of course,” Jane continued rapidly, “the Groom’s house isn’t like a hog’s pen.” She lowered her voice and leaned toward Kate. “It’s just that Olive Groom doesn’t—“
“Would the girls like to sample my new candy, Jane?” Margo interrupted. “I tried something new—a fruit- flavored glaze over caramel.”
Ellie and Martha perked up and yanked at their mother’s dress to make sure she’d heard Margo’s offer.
Gazing at the eager faces, Jane agreed, and the girls jumped about excitedly.
Kate wondered what Jane Kessler would have told her about Olive Groom’s housekeeping. Soon she’d be boarding with the Groom family. Was there something she should know? Was boarding around such a good idea?
Later that day a well-dressed elderly woman came into the shop. Margo greeted her with small talk, and then introduced Kate to Hester O’Neill, wife of Paddy O’Neill of Paddy’s Saloon and Gambling House. In a husky, no- nonsense voice, she ordered six loaves of bread, and then scoured the shelves with her eyes.
“Something else today, Hester?” Margo prodded.
“I need a big cake. Bigger than any of these, and I have to have it by suppertime,” she said gruffly. “Annie, one of my dancers, has a birthday today. We’re going to surprise her.”
“Hm-m.” Margo scratched her head. “Usually they have to be ordered in advance. I could put two cakes together and frost them so they look like one cake. Would that do?” She asked.
“Sounds good to me. Can you put together one chocolate and one vanilla with chocolate icing?” Hester O’Neill asked, hands on hips.
“Sure. I’ll take these into the kitchen and be back in a few minutes.” Margo ducked into the kitchen, the cakes held high above her head.
“So you’re the new teacher.” The matronly looking woman’s eyes scanned Kate from head to toe.
Kate nodded. She felt a bit intimidated by this bold woman.
“Hope you like the job better than the last one did.” Hester leaned forward, her gray eyes cold as steel. “Though I must admit, the families here are a strange sort—enough to scare anyone, I guess.” She patted her tightly curled white hair. “Especially since the teacher has to board around. Hah! I knew that wouldn’t work, but they’re trying it again.” She shrugged. “Why should I care? I don’t have children.”
Kate’s throat tightened as Mrs. O’Neill fed her fears. “What do you mean the families are strange? How so?”
“Oh!” She laughed. “Take Nancy. You heard about her?” When Kate shook her head, she continued, “I thought not! They ought to have warned you. Buzz Balcomb married an Indian woman. Did no one tell you?” She asked pointedly “Have you ever lived with an Indian?”
“N-no.”
“Thought as much. Did they tell you about Olive Groom’s housekeeping?” At Kate’s quick nod, she raised her eyebrows. “So they did warn you some. I bet they didn’t tell you George Plumb is a drunk. Have you ever lived with a drunk?”
Kate shook her head, eyes wide and frightened.
“I thought not,” the woman beamed with confidence. “Then I’m sure no one told you about Josh Redfield, whose wife and her gentleman friend disappeared mysteriously. How can a woman board in a household without a chaperone anyway?” Hester O’Neill leaned over the counter and practically whispered, “‘Sides, folks say he had something to do with—“
“Hester!” exclaimed Margo from the doorway, carefully balancing the large cake. “I told you before I won’t allow gossip. Why, Kate’s face is as pale as a sheet! What have you been telling her?”
“Now, Margo, I wasn’t gossiping. It’s a fact that Mrs. Redfield—“
“No! Please!” Margo shook her head firmly. “Enough! Here’s your cake and bread. I’ll put them on your bill.”
Shrugging, Hester O’Neill picked up her packages and left the shop.
“Kate, are you all right?” Margo sighed. “Don’t listen to her or any of the busybodies.”
Kate dropped onto a nearby stool. “But how can I live in a hog’s pen, with an Indian, a drunk, or with a man whose wife disappeared mysteriously?”
Margo shook her head. “She told you all that in the few minutes it took me to frost the cakes?”
Kate nodded.
“Dear Lord, give me the strength, wisdom…” she murmured, looking upwards. “Kate, it’s unfair to judge people before meeting them, especially based on, rumors, or gossip.”
“But what if the talk is true?”
“And what if it isn’t? A judge always hears both sides of a case before deciding who’s guilty and who’s not. Not everything you hear is true. As gossip spreads from one person to another it often becomes distorted and exaggerated. Sometimes it’s totally wrong, and when it isn’t, it’s God’s business to judge, not ours.”
Kate tilted her head. “How do you hear the other person’s version?”
“If you feel it’s your business, you ask him yourself.”
“That isn’t always possible,” Kate countered. “Shall I ask Mrs. Groom if her home is truly a hog’s pen?”
“Certainly not!”
“But,” Kate argued, “if I’m to live in their home, it is my business. Right?”
Margo shook her head sadly. “Yes, I suppose—but it would hurt her to know someone had said such a thing. I suggest you use your time here with us to get to know these people and perhaps gain insight and learn the truth yourself.” Margo patted the Kate’s hand. “Don’t worry, Kate, God will watch out for you. All you need to do is ask Him. And don’t forget, their images may not be as smudged as people have painted them.”
Margo continued, “Though many of the town people have affectionately labeled Mrs. Balcomb Red Nancy, I don’t approve. She’s from a different race and culture and has a different appearance. The godly here in Hays call her simply Nancy. I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same—at least while you stay with us.”
Kate smiled. “So I’ve had my prayers answered.” She sighed, “I’ve landed in a Christian home, at least for now.”
Margo embraced Kate. “I can’t vouch for everyone but just about all your students and their families attend church on Sunday. Some because they want to truly worship, some to show off their new dress or hat and some purely out of boredom. Around here Sunday is the highlight of our week.”
That next day Margo invited Kate to ride with her on her deliveries, promising they’d visit the schoolhouse sites. The two women bumped along on the old buckboard’s seat while the twins, in back, held down the precious cargo of baked goods. Their first stop landed them on the doorstep of Lucy’s Restaurant. Kate remained in the wagon while Margo carried an armload of cakes and pies into the old, unpainted building. The dust on the outside of the front window kept Kate from seeing more than an elderly woman receiving the packages from behind two swi
nging doors at the rear of the restaurant. When they opened, she saw various men at checkered-cloth-covered tables, eating as though they hadn’t seen food in days.
The next stop was Evans’ Grocery Store and Post Office. Margo returned from her delivery with a handful of mail. “A letter from Lydia!” she cried, waving an envelope high above her head. “We’ll save it for after devotions.” She folded it inside her reticule, along with several coins.
The last stop was a small, ramshackle shanty at the edge of town. Margo explained. “Harley Mullins broke his leg last month and hasn’t been able to work at the lumberyard. His wife, Clara, is with child again, and they have four other small children. Whatever I have left over I give to an unfortunate family. I try to bring something to the Mullins as often as I can.” Margo laughed and covered her mouth, whispering, “They also get our mistakes!”
“There can’t be many of them,” said Kate.
“Oh, enough! Like the day Luther Aldrich ordered a birthday cake for his daughter. His wife was too ill to make one—for she makes the best herself—and Elmer put the wrong daughter’s name on the cake. Of course we quickly frosted a new one, but who wants a cake with Irma Aldrich’s name on it? Clara Mullins claimed it was the best she’d ever tasted!
“Then I tease Harley that the hair on his chest comes from eating all the burned baked goods!”
After the Mullins stop, they pulled up in front of the lumberyard. Margo jumped down. “Here’s schoolhouse number one.”
Kate stepped down from the high seat. “A lumberyard?”
“Come.” Margo led Kate swiftly to the rear of the yard.
The smell of freshly cut wood lingered in the air, although the place had apparently closed for the day.
Kate followed Margo, dodging between the boards and logs. Not as practiced as her leader, Kate was pulled abruptly to a stop by a rough board snagging her dress. Freeing herself, she ran swiftly in the direction Margo had gone. Kate couldn’t afford to get lost amid the splintering timber.
Several hundred feet behind the lumberyard, Kate saw their destination and shivered with apprehension. Lodged between two giant oak trees stood a small shanty. Kate hesitated, disappointment surging through her.
“Never judge a book by its cover, Kate,” scolded Margo. “At least look inside.”
Kate stepped into the shanty ahead of Margo, and as her foot rocked on loose planking she grabbed the doorjamb with a gasp. Margo steadied her. “Now, it may need work, Kate.”
Glancing around inside, Kate decided that her first impression had been deceiving. The room wasn’t as small as she’d thought, but it lacked the space needed by eighteen students. Bare, except for storage boxes, the shack was dark and musty.
“I don’t have to decide before seeing the other two sites, do I?” Kate asked.
“No, of course not. Keep in mind the men will fix the school in time—if we select the one we want early enough, that is.”
Margo led Kate back to the wagon, where the twins were sword fighting with tree branches.
They rode some distance before Margo reined in the team with expertise. “Now, Kate, keep an open mind.”
Even when the dust cleared Kate saw nothing. Standing atop the wagon seat, she turned every which way.
“I don’t see anything.”
Margo laughed. “C’mon.” Jumping down, she ran through the field, and Kate followed, with the twins close at her heels. They stopped at what looked like a grassy mound, and Kate noticed a door leading into the hill. Opening it, Margo invited her inside.
“What is this?” Kate peeked within.
“An abandoned dugout home.”
“Whose was it?” Kate noted that while the room was still darker than she’d like, it was spacious and cool.
“A family named Yeager left it quite some time ago to go back East.”
Hands on hips, Kate twirled about. “It’s large enough, but awfully dark for a school. Children need proper light to work by.”
“The men may be able to solve that problem.” Margo shrugged. “We can mention it.”
“What is this material covering the dirt floor?” Kate poked at the damp stuff with the toe of her boot.
“Burlap,” Margo answered. “But perhaps the men could lay wood. You must keep in mind we haven’t begun to remodel for school purposes yet.”
Touching the cold dirt walls with her fingers, Kate shivered. She felt trapped in a dungeon and suddenly needed fresh air and sunlight. Heading for the doorway, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll keep this all in mind. Can we get on to the next site?”
When Margo turned the team around toward town, Kate gave her a puzzled look.
“Yes, I deliberately passed by the third one to get to the dugout. The next site is closer to town than this one, but I wanted you to see it last.”
“Why?” Kate asked.
“I guess for the sake of comparison. You’ll no doubt like this one best, but it has its downfall, too.”
“What is that?” she asked.
Margo smiled wryly. “It’s owned by Joshua Redfield.”
Chapter Three
Bringing the rumbling buckboard to a halt, Margo pointed across the barren land. “See that large house yonder, just above the horizon?”
Kate nodded.
“That’s the new Redfield home. Now follow the horizon to the left. See the old homestead? That’s the third school site. Better than a dugout, it’s built with sod bricks and much like the houses back East, with windows and a thatched roof.” Picking up the reins, Margo added, “Wait until you see it.”
As they rolled down the long road leading to the homes, Kate inquired, “How far are we from town?”
“Only a mile and a quarter. See there? You can vaguely see the buildings from here, the land is so flat.”
“Which of the three sites is most centrally located?”
To be heard above the noise of the horses, buckboard, and the twins, Margo shouted, “I’d say the dugout is probably the closest for most, but the Redfield’s’ is a close second. The lumberyard would be convenient only for the few children who live in town. I’m glad you’re thinking of considerations other than appearance.”
They stopped before a house Kate thought could have come from a Dickens novel. It looked like an English peasant’s farmhouse, with its thatched roof and neatly placed “bricks.”
Facing the front stood a doorway with a large window on each side, with four panes on the top and four on the bottom. As she entered, Kate saw a fairly large room that glowed with sunlight.
“This still isn’t big enough for all my students.” Kate spoke regretfully, for other than that, it seemed the best of the three.
“I mentioned that to Josh,” Margo responded, putting one hand on the back wall. “He said there’d be no problem taking out these partitions. Josh and Joanna lived here while their big house was being built; they separated the living area from the sleeping areas. These partitions were the bedrooms. They really don’t do much at all to support the house.”
As they passed on into the other small rooms Kate noted that the tall side windows and rear windows would provide a large, one-room building with plenty of light. Kate could only wonder why she hadn’t been shown this spotlessly clean house first. Why was there any question at all as to which building should be the schoolhouse?
Margo beamed proudly. “Joanna Redfield worked months on this woven rag rug, and it covers nearly all of the wood-planked floor. The walls are adobe plaster and solid. Look, the windows open, too!” Margo easily slid open a window letting in fresh air.
Kate tapped her foot impatiently. “Why didn’t we come here first? You knew what my reaction would be to the other two. What’s the trick?”
Margo excused herself to scold the boys, who played too roughly in the wagon, then returned and faced the schoolteacher. “I wanted you to fully appreciate it.”
“You didn’t think I’d have the sense to select this one, even if I’d seen it firs
t or second?” Kate exclaimed in disbelief.
“Possibly. Yet there are those in the district who aren’t in favor of accepting Josh Redfield’s generous gift. We’ve had many heated meetings over this. Finally the board members agreed to let you decide.”
“I’ve decided. This is it.”
“The fact that it belongs to Josh Redfield doesn’t matter to you?”
“Will he be a bother?” she asked with concern.
“Certainly not!” Margo said vigorously. “He is a fine upstanding young man”.
“Then why should it matter?”
“Because of the talk. Remember Mrs. O’Neill’s remarks?”
Kate nodded. “As long as he doesn’t interfere with the school, I don’t care!”
“She isn’t the only one accusing Josh Redfield of having something to do with his wife’s disappearance. Some parents may protest.”
“Do you believe it’s true?” Kate probed.
“No, I don’t. I’m merely judging the man by what he is and always has been: a gentleman. The circumstances do seem bizarre, but my faith is in my first and only impression of Josh. Even if I were wrong, and the talk proved true, I’m still not his judge. I’ll let God be his judge and jury. There isn’t much conventional law out here, so we have little choice but to let God take over entirely; and let me tell you, the punishment in eternity will be worse than any here!”
Kate shivered. “Do you think Mrs. Redfield is dead or has simply run off?”
“It’s difficult for me to believe any of the gossip. Joanna is such a lovely young woman. You would take to her, Kate. Yet who knows anyone’s personal affairs or hardships? Whether Joanna is alive or dead, though, I don’t think Josh Redfield could physically harm anyone.”
“What are the Redfield children like?”
“There’s just Anna, a lovely five-year-old girl who has taken the tragedy badly. She hardly speaks to anyone, except Josh, whom she adores.” With a sigh Margo added, “I think she’ll turn out fine. You should see the way she fusses over her dad…”.Margo shook her head sadly. “I won’t say any more; I’ll let you form your own opinions. Just promise me one thing?”
