Hope In Cripple Creek

by Sara R. Turnquist

  Ellie Mae wasn’t able to keep up. As they reached their seats inside, she caught her breath at last.

  “What was that all about?” Ellie Mae’s eyes sought Katherine’s after they did a sweep of the area. “Why did Wyatt look at you like that?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think he heard us?” Katherine’s heart raced, and her body coursed with energy as if she could run away. And that’s just what she wanted to do — run a million miles away!

  Ellie Mae shook her head. “Surely not.”

  Katherine looked in the direction of the door. “I hope not.” But the warmth continued to creep further into her face. She was hopeless!

  The school bell rang and a flood of students came through the doors. Katherine’s eyes remained fixed on the open doorway until Wyatt appeared. When she spotted his tall, slender frame, she spun around and dropped into her seat with a thump, dropping her head into her hands.

  As the rest of the students took their seats, Miss Johnson, the schoolteacher, moved through the room toward the front of the class.

  Katherine pulled her head up, but couldn’t focus. Had Wyatt heard her comment? Did he know it was about him? Wyatt was by far the most handsome boy in the whole schoolhouse. His sandy blond hair and blue eyes weren’t all that remarkable, but the strength of his features won him acclaim among the females.

  To Katherine, he was her greatest rival. She might not be much to look at, but she knew she was smart. Well, so was Wyatt. For every high mark she made, he made one point above or below her. They always challenged each other for the top score. How unfair that he could have both the smarts and the looks! But that was life.

  Everything became quiet around her.

  Ellie Mae poked her.

  “Wha—?” she startled in response. One look at Miss Johnson silenced her.

  Miss Johnson stared at her.

  And so did everyone else.

  Had the teacher just called her name?

  “Um . . . present,” she said, rubbing her offended arm. She shot Ellie Mae a mean look.

  “Are you sure?” Miss Johnson raised an eyebrow.

  The class laughed.

  Though she did not think it possible, Katherine’s cheeks heated several more degrees. “Yes.”

  Miss Johnson moved on with the roll.

  Mayor Jacobs coughed, drawing her attention back to the present.

  “I’m so sorry, Mayor. I seem to have lost my sense of time again.” Katherine stood and strode over to the schoolhouse stairs. She ducked her head as she passed him, almost as embarrassed by this lapse as she had been that day so long ago.

  The town had kept the building up quite well. It appeared to have recently received a new coat of paint. Taking the few stairs, she stepped inside the one-room structure and pushed a fresh flood of memories to the side to focus on what lay in front of her. The student benches and desks all seemed to be in good repair, and the leg of the teacher’s desk, which Miss Johnson had propped up with books, had been fixed.

  Forgetting the mayor was with her, she moved among the desks, letting her hand graze the tops, hearing Miss Johnson calling roll. Walking toward the front of the classroom, she let her hands run over the edge of the teacher’s desk and chair. Now at the chalkboard, she shifted to take in the whole room. Her eyes drifted across the room, seeing her classmates as Miss Johnson would have seen them. And the desk she shared with Ellie Mae.

  “Well, what do you think?” the mayor’s voice interrupted her reverie.

  She must get control of herself. Katherine shook her head and cleared her throat. “Quite nice. Rather well kept.”

  “Thank you.” His voice was soft.

  Did he know she was struggling to stay in the present?

  “We do what we can. Our children and their education are important to the people of this town.”

  “That’s good to hear.” She swallowed hard, attempting to quell the myriad of emotions welling up within her. This always had been a good town. Full of heart.

  The stairs creaked outside. Katherine’s eyes darted toward the door and she guessed they were about to be joined by the first of the town council.

  A tall man dressed in black entered the room. His pastoral collar caught her eye. But as she looked at his face, she knew this preacher was familiar to her. He had grown into a man and a beard hid some of his features, but she would know the eyes of her first schoolyard beau anywhere.

  “Timothy,” she said as he closed the door behind himself.

  He grinned. “Katherine.”

  They moved toward each other, meeting in the middle of the classroom, embracing as old friends.

  “It is so good to see you.” Katherine found herself leaning into his strong frame. It did feel good to be received so well. Not all of her classmates would have done the same.

  “You too, Katie,” he said as he pulled back. “My goodness, look at you.”

  Katherine’s face warmed. “And you, the town preacher.” She straightened the lapels of his jacket. Why had she done that? There was time and distance between them, but he still smiled at her. And so the edges of her mouth formed a wider smile as they continued to gaze at one another.

  While they had kept up correspondence when she left for school, over time, her letters became few and far between. And then she stopped writing altogether. Katherine just couldn’t make herself stay so connected to home. The last she knew, he had gone off to seminary and hoped to return as Cripple Creek’s preacher. She had suspected her chances of coming across Timothy were good and she prayed for understanding. And now here he was, welcoming her back with open arms.

  “Does it suit me?” The pride in his eyes could not be mistaken.

  She nodded. “It does.” There was much of the boy she knew in the man before her. Yet he had grown up. What had changed? What was the same?

  “I guess no introduction is necessary here,” the mayor interjected, stepping in from somewhere.

  Katherine had forgotten anyone else was present. “No.” She took a step back. “The Reverend and I are old friends.” Referring to Timothy as ‘Reverend’ seemed odd. When she said that word, the face that flashed through her mind was that of old Reverend Jones. May he rest in peace.

  The door opened again and two men Katherine did not recognize joined them. They were introduced as Michael Hammond, the town’s banker, and Phillip Yerby, who ran the General Store. Once Mr. Yerby was made known, Katherine could see in the older man’s face the features of the man she had known as a girl. The years had been hard on him.

  “We’re just waiting on Doc, as usual,” Mr. Yerby said. “And who knows when he’ll be free?”

  Was the doctor not to be inconvenienced for council meetings? Or was it that he felt his work was more important than meeting the new teacher?

  “Our town doctor is the fifth member of the council,” the mayor explained. “He’ll be here as soon as he can. What with emergencies and whatnot. That being said, we might not see him at all.”

  Emergencies? Were there that many emergencies in little Cripple Creek?

  “Why don’t we start without him?” Timothy offered.

  The men let out a chorus of agreement. Mayor Jacobs pulled the teacher’s chair around to the front of the desk, indicating for Katherine to sit, and the councilmen took seats at the students’ desks.

  Katherine took the offered seat and turned her thoughts to the men in front of her, attempting to give the man who was not present the benefit of the doubt.

  “First, we want to thank you for coming to fill our interim position. We are so pleased to have a qualified teacher with our children during this time of transition,” the mayor said as they all got settled.

  “I’m glad to be here.” Katherine smiled. It was true after all, right? She didn’t know anymore.

  “The Reverend tells us you are from Cripple Creek.” Mr. Hammond gave her a curious look.

  “Yes, sir. You might know my parents, Tom and Lauren Matthews.” She had this. Her pa
rents were good people, strong people in the community. They were certainly well regarded.

  Murmurs of acknowledgement rumbled among the group.

  Mr. Hammond’s features relaxed, but his questions continued. “And you went away to further your education?”

  “Yes, to San Francisco.” They didn’t need to know that it wasn’t the only reason she’d gone away.

  “And how long have you been a teacher?” Mr. Yerby piped up.

  “Since I graduated, three years ago.”

  While she spoke, the door opened to admit the final member of the town council. The long awaited doctor had finally arrived. The man nodded in her direction as he entered, his features masked as his head was tilted forward. But as he came closer, she began to make out nuances of his face.

  A chill ran down her spine and she froze.

  It was none other than Wyatt Sullivan.

  “Miss Matthews?” Mayor Jacobs’s chair squeaked as he leaned forward.

  “Yes?” She caught herself. Had he been speaking to her?

  “I said, ‘I believe you may already know our doctor as well.’”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Yes, she knew him. Better than she wanted to. So much so that she would do anything to erase the memory of everything surrounding him.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Wyatt. We got started without you.” Timothy waved to a nearby student desk. “But jump in whenever you’d like.”

  How could Timothy just speak to him so amicably? Had he forgotten?

  Wyatt nodded, sliding into the chair that was much too small for his tall frame. “Certainly.” He turned toward Katherine. “Good to see you again.”

  Katherine nodded at him but still couldn’t find her voice. She looked at his shirt, his hair, everywhere but his eyes.

  “Did you spend those three years teaching at the same institution?” Mr. Yerby pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at his brow.

  So the room was warm, it wasn’t just her. She longed to fan herself or loosen her collar. Anything to relieve some of this heat inside her. A moment lapsed before Katherine remembered she still sat in a session with the town council. “Yes,” she said, closing her eyes to focus her thoughts. “The Billingham Boarding School for Girls.”

  “Katherine,” Wyatt leaned forward on his elbows. “If I walked into your classroom on a typical afternoon, what would I see?”

  Meeting his eyes at last, she blinked a few times before finding an answer. “You would find students learning.” She bit her lip. It was not her intention to be snarky. “But I don’t think that’s what you mean.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “You would find the students and I engaged in a discussion about a book or a topic in science. Perhaps we would be doing math on our tablets, but I prefer most of our learning to be done through discussion.” There, that was done. His question had been answered. Her eyes moved toward the other men, but Wyatt spoke up with another question.

  “Why did you want to become a teacher?”

  Pause. Breathe. She met his gaze. “Because I love learning and I want to share that with the next generation.”

  Wyatt’s next inquiry came within a breath of her answer. “Tell us about your discipline philosophy.”

  She stared at him. This seemed more like an interview and less like a ‘get to know you’ session thanks to Wyatt’s questions. Still, she responded, shoulders back, chest tight. “I think it’s important to reduce behavior problems by offering students a stimulating environment.” This time, she continued to stare at him, daring him to continue questioning her.

  He rose to the challenge. “But how do you handle discipline issues?”

  Her heart started to pound. She became rather uncomfortable under his scrutiny. The others eyed her, and she decided it best to do what she could to remain calm. “I prefer to remove privileges and have the students do write offs.”

  “What are your classroom rules?” Mr. Hammond interrupted the back and forth.

  Somewhat relieved for the respite from Wyatt’s steel blue eyes, Katherine shifted her attention over to the banker. “My rules revolve around the students respecting myself, other students, and the schoolhouse. That involves things like no talking when someone else is talking, raising hands to be recognized to talk, no behaviors that would be destructive to the schoolhouse or the desks . . .”

  “What about students who are not performing as they should?” Wyatt interjected.

  “It depends on whether it is a discipline issue or a capability issue.” Katherine raised an eyebrow at him. Would his questions never end?

  He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest as if he had not considered that fine point.

  Not wanting to give him any opportunity to gain on her, she continued, “If the student is willing, I can give him or her extra attention and time in order to support them.”

  Wyatt opened his mouth, but the mayor cut him off.

  “Miss Matthews, thank you for answering our questions. Do you have any questions for us?”

  “Whom do I take any of my concerns to?” She had been dreading the answer to that question since Wyatt had walked into the schoolhouse. Holding her breath, she waited for the mayor to confirm or alleviate her fears.

  “You will work most closely with the Reverend,” the mayor said, tipping his head toward Timothy. “Most issues and concerns will be addressed by him.”

  Timothy offered her a winning smile.

  A deep sigh of relief escaped her. Was it audible?

  “Serious issues that, for whatever reason, need to go beyond the Reverend will be handled by myself.” Mayor Jacobs placed a hand on his chest. “But we only want to support you.”

  She nodded. Nothing would faze her as long as she didn’t have to answer to Wyatt. “I understand.”

  “Anything else?”

  Katherine shook her head. She hadn’t expected to end this session with such an elated feeling in her heart. “Unless something has changed from our most recent correspondence as far as salary and start date?”

  The mayor shook his head. “Everything is the same.”

  “Then I have all the information I need.” Still aware of Wyatt’s gaze on her, she fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Mayor Jacobs said as he looked at the other men. “I think we need to let Miss Matthews rest after her trip.” He turned back toward her. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

  And the men rose, each nodding in her direction in turn before shuffling toward the door, making small talk with each other.

  Katherine stood as well, only to realize how weak her knees were. But she maintained her posture as the men clustered near the back of the room, still chatting.

  Timothy alone stepped toward her. “Might I walk you back to your parent’s house?”

  Was he being forward? Did she want him to be? “I’m actually staying at the boarding house in town.”

  “Oh.” He looked toward the floor.

  Did he think her refusal was a rejection? She had not intended that. “But I would welcome your company back into town, if it’s no trouble.”

  The other men had already started moving in the direction of the doorway. Was it her imagination, or did Wyatt linger? Was he eavesdropping? It wasn’t long though before even he had vacated the schoolhouse, leaving her and Timothy alone.

  “No, no trouble at all.” The corners of his mouth twitched and turned upward.

  A warmth spread through Katherine. Yes, she still rather enjoyed the way Timothy’s smile made her feel.

  Katherine took one last long look around the room where she’d be spending most of her time in the days to come. She allowed herself a few more moments to lose herself in her memories. Perhaps she should rearrange the schoolroom to prevent these flashbacks.

  Turning back to Timothy, she offered him her best smile. Maybe he would come to like her smile too. “Ready when you are.”

  With that, they made their way toward town.

  “So,” she could
n’t help but say, grinning. “Find any good lizards lately?”

  When they were but schoolkids, Timothy had been well known for his obsession with all things creepy crawly. He tried to share this love with her, but her obsession had been books. Hopeless even then.

  He shook his head, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t been on a good reptile hunt in quite a while.”

  “That’s a shame. I think you must take my students on one of your famous reptile hunts!” Had she just said that? Was she flirting with Timothy? Would that be all right?

  “Truly?” One of his eyebrows shot up.

  “If only you would.” She tugged playfully at his arm.

  “I think I would like that.”

  “It’s settled then.” She once again surprised herself and slid a hand into the crook of his arm. It was her turn to be forward.

  He seemed surprised by her familiarity, but soon fell into step with her, bending his arm to create a better space for her handhold. A silence fell between them for a few moments. The time and distance hung in that space. She needed to speak about it. If it remained unsaid, it would only create a greater gap.

  “I’m sorry I stopped writing.” Her voice became quiet.

  “I understand why you did,” he said, his voice soft. With his free hand, he reached across to lay it on hers.

  She nodded, biting at her lip to contain her emotions. “Thank you . . . for understanding.”

  “I’m glad you’re back in town.” His voice seemed deeper somehow when it was so quiet.

  Katherine kept her gaze on the ground for a few seconds before looking over at him. How much should she trust him? He was the closest thing she had to a friend here. Ever since . . . “I have mixed feelings about it.”

  She didn’t have to say anything further. Timothy would understand.

  That same silence fell on them again, only this time it was thick with memories.

  He slowed their steps, breaking the spell. “I wanted to say, don’t let Wyatt’s questioning bother you. He’s just that way about things. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  Surely Timothy meant to reassure her. That could not be so. “I wish I could believe that,” she confided.

  Timothy pressed her hand, but said nothing.