She shied away hunching her shoulders forward.
“You flinched again.”
In mute resistance, she tightened every muscle in her body and with the downward sweep of her lashes thinking to hide her secrets. “I’m not afraid, merely reserved.”
Before she could move farther back in her chair, his gaze swept the curve of her cheek. “I don’t usually bite beautiful women.”
A tingling sensation followed the path of his perusal and raced down her spine. She rose from her chair and gave him a hard glare. “Would you bite if the woman wasn’t beautiful?”
He laughed, long and deep. “No offense intended. You’ve very properly put me in my place.” He raised his hands, stood, and stepped back in one motion, but a spark of mischief lingered in his gaze. “Before you have a conniption, let me give you a little background. I’ve been part of Bittersweep all of my life. Along with my twin brothers, Hamilton and Hudson, I own the Rocking H Ranch. Hudson and Hamilton are twenty-four years of age to my twenty-seven. The Rocking H is about eight miles in that direction.” With a saucy grin, he added, “Mrs. Ledbetter will vouch for me.” He raised his brows. “Friends now?”
The smile he beamed at her softened her stance against him. Fighting to strengthen the wall of indifference she tried to erect between them, Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and stared at him for a brief moment. She contemplated her best move to stop his advance, but in spite of all her efforts to remain resolute, she yielded. “As you say. Friends.”
Chapter 4
Early Monday morning, Elizabeth woke with the sun peeking into her window. She stretched and rolled over brushing the covers aside. Another bright, sunshiny day welcomed her as she crawled out of bed with a shaft of uncertainty running through her. The start of school for her as a genuine wage-earning teacher loomed and her nerves were on edge. She straightened her bed and gave the room a quick dusting before starting her day.
After dressing, she quickly opened her door only to find Franklin passing in the hall. He stopped and gave her a distracted smile.
“Good morning, Franklin.”
“Morning.” He glanced over her shoulder at her leather satchel lying on her bed. “You plan to carry that heavy bag with you to school every day and you walking over a couple of miles?”
He had such a non-threatening presence, and seemed so young, hapless, the teacher in her wanted to encourage him. He seemed more like a younger brother than a mere acquaintance and she could use a friend. “It’s not that heavy. I carry my books, lesson plans, and other items I need. There’s a secret pocket that makes it appear larger than its actual size. Why?”
An intrigued expression crossed Franklin’s face. “Idle curiosity. But now I’m fascinated. May I take a look?”
“Certainly.” She stepped back into the room, picked up the bag, and brought it to him. When she entered the hall, sunlight flooded the passage gleaming on the brass-nail trim. “See if you can discover the opening.”
“You’re joshing me.” He tucked his blue ledger under his arm and accepted the satchel. “It’s lighter than it appears. I’ll give you that.” He fingered every seam and after inspecting the inside with equal care, he cast a surprised glance at Elizabeth. “I can’t find a secret compartment.”
She flashed a grin at him before showing him the hidden slot beneath a row of brass nails that appeared to hold the bag together. “Here it is. If I have anything of value, I carry it in this pocket. The satchel is with me most of the time.”
“Amazing.” He handed the leather bag back to her. “I thought sure you were pulling my leg.”
Elizabeth glanced at his hand where a square-cut green stone caught the light. “I like your ring.”
He chuckled. “This little bauble is my class ring. It’s only paste, but I like it.”
“It’s very striking.”
He adjusted his ledger and shot her a brief smile. “Your first day at school coming up. You must be excited.”
“Well, not excited exactly. Perhaps apprehensive, but the first day is a week away. Plenty of time to clean the schoolroom, prepare lessons, and avoid the stirring of butterflies in my stomach until that fateful day arrives.” She headed toward the stairs with Franklin following.
“How foolish of me. Of course, you’re right.”
She exhaled. “We’d better hurry if we want any of Mrs. Ledbetter’s biscuits.”
“I need to fortify myself with something against this day. Her biscuits might do the trick.”
The soft despair in his voice registered in her mind. Something was definitely causing him distress. Elizabeth’s steps faltered and she glanced over her shoulder. “Is something the matter?”
He sent her a smile, his lips curved upward, but his eyes remained blank. “No, nothing. Nothing at all.”
She entered the dining room and took her seat. With a distracted air, Franklin sat across from her. When Betty strolled into the room and sank into her chair, Franklin didn’t say a word to her. Elizabeth glanced at Franklin. His usual friendly demeanor had evaporated and his expression was so at odds with the bright sunshine dancing into the room, she stared at him. Ducking his head, he wouldn’t meet her gaze. His mood didn’t lighten even when Mrs. Ledbetter entered with the smell of coffee wafting in front of her.
“Morning, folks.” The landlady plopped the platter of ham on the table and set the biscuits in the middle. “Get ’em while they’re hot.”
For several protracted minutes, the clatter of silverware and coffee being poured were the only sounds in the room. With barely a nod, Franklin scraped his chair back and headed out the door.
Mrs. Ledbetter gazed after him. “I wonder what’s biting Franklin.”
Betty laughed. “He thinks if he ignores me, I’ll be jealous. He don’t want me to dance with anyone else, especially one of the Honeycutt men. But Franklin will come honeying around before the barbecue. You’ll see.”
Elizabeth finished her meal and pushed away from the table. “I’m off to school to finish planning. I’m a bundle of nerves.”
Mrs. Ledbetter shoved out of her chair. “You’ll do fine. Don’t be late for supper.”
Elizabeth left the house and headed toward the school in a brisk stride with hope in her heart. She glanced around at the bright day. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves overhead, and birds chirped in the trees above. She took a deep breath, still a little apprehensive. At her first attempt at a paying position doubts engulfed her, but she vowed to succeed regardless of the obstacles in her path.
She shook off her bout of uncertainty, straightened her spine, and marched on. When she entered the dale where the schoolhouse stood, she tripped on a twig. Giving a little hop to escape the clutching of the tiny branch, she stepped to the side where a vine of thorns grabbed her skirt. She wanted to cuss but refrained.
What a bad start to a really good day. Unlocking the latch on the schoolhouse she gave the wooden panel a little shove. The door sighed open. A cobweb danced in the draft from the door. Elizabeth rubbed her hands together and raised all of the windows to let in a gentle breeze before cleaning the place from top to bottom. She was thankful for the three big white oak trees shading the schoolhouse from the hot, Texas sun. Nevertheless, moisture trickled down between her shoulders. Washing the tall windows on each side of the room, she glanced out at the lengthening shadows. She’d been at her task for quite a while. She wiped perspiration from her brow and stood back to admire her efforts. It was time to be done with her labors for the day. Tomorrow was another day, and life seemed full of promise.
The days passed swiftly and finally the first day of classes arrived. With a nervous tightening of her stomach, she watched the students traipse into the schoolroom, talking with one another, pulling pranks, and filling the room with laughter. A young girl with a neglected air entered last
. She must be JP’s orphan. Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “Hello, class. Take a seat anywhere you’d like. I’ll assign the desks when I know your names and ages.”
During the weeks that followed, she studied each child, gauging their strengths and weaknesses in order to offer assistance in those areas. The youngest, a boy of nine, needed a little push to get him started. The oldest girl at sixteen was more interested in boys than in schoolwork. All the students in between presented a unique challenge. A challenge she loved.
Every day, she gave thanks for the opportunity to teach. Although Bittersweep was not the ideal location, still the post suited her. It had been the only opportunity offered when she so desperately needed one. She’d been down to her last few dollars when the position became available. She did have a family, but her stepmother frowned upon the necessity to support a grown daughter. No indeed, she did not approve.
The days seemed to roll together, and three weeks passed in a blink. Elizabeth sat behind her desk with the afternoon sun slanting into the schoolroom through the windows. Sunlight chased long shadows into every corner of the room. She pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. A long, tiring day, but a good tired from doing exactly what she loved, educating children. Teaching at different levels kept her busy as the days drifted past.
Elizabeth glanced at the student roll one last time. Of great concern to her, Amy had missed several days of school, two or three a week. At least the young girl was in attendance today.
Amy held her pencil awkwardly in her rag-bandaged hand and grimaced a lot. Elizabeth’s heart beat in sympathy. When no one cared, the effort to perform became harder still.
Since JP had taken responsibility for the orphan child, perhaps she should inform him of the situation. Still, she couldn’t run to him with the problem. From the beginning, he’d warned her against such action. She rubbed her temples and decided to give the situation a few more weeks before informing him of the troubling circumstances.
Elizabeth carefully closed her book. “Children, you are dismissed for lunch. I’ll ring the bell when it’s time to resume class. Amy, please stay a moment.”
With a look of fright on her face, the child sank back into her seat, dejected. “Yes, ma’am.”
In a mild, non-threatening voice, Elizabeth inquired, “How did you injure your hand?”
Amy averted her eyes and clasped her hands in her lap. “I was fixen supper. When I was peeling the taters, the knife slipped.”
Elizabeth’s annoyance at Mrs. Blake went up a notch. “Do you help with supper often?”
“I always does.”
“You always do,” Elizabeth corrected with an encouraging smile.
Amy grinned. “Yes ’um. I always do.”
Elizabeth’s annoyance turned to a slowly building anger. She didn’t want to startle Amy with abrupt questions, but she needed an answer. “Where was Mrs. Blake when you cut yourself?”
Amy shrugged. “She was spoonin’ with her man. I tried to stop Jane from crawling out the door and I wasn’t watching the point of the knife.” She glanced up at Elizabeth. Her voice quavered with alarm, and she offered a defense. “I wrapped it real tight so I wouldn’t get no blood in the food.”
Elizabeth fought to keep her anger under control. She yanked supplies from her desk. Mrs. Blake needed a good slap. “You’re in pain, and I think I should take a look at the wound.”
Alarm flashed across Amy’s face and she hunched her shoulders. “It hurts some, but it ain’t no bother.”
Elizabeth regretted her tone. She calmed her anger and in a gentle voice said, “I’ll doctor your wound with some monkey’s blood and put a fresh bandage on your hand.”
Amy’s eyes widened and she drew back with a scowl. “I don’t want no blood on it. Not from no monkey. That’s for dead cert.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Iodine. It’s a medicine. Not actually blood from a monkey or blood of any sort.”
With a dubious expression, Amy still withheld her hand. “It looks funny. Sorta like blood.” She gazed up at Elizabeth. “Promise it ain’t no monkey’s blood?”
“No, it isn’t. This medicine will keep your wound from becoming infected. Now, your hand please.” Elizabeth waited, her gaze never leaving Amy’s fierce regard.
At the first dab of iodine, Amy let out a yell. “That hurts something awful. I don’t like monkey’s blood.”
Elizabeth blew on the wound until Amy stopped squirming then bandaged the hand. “You keep it dry for a few days.”
Amy cast a disgruntle look at her. “Most chores take water.”
“So true. Be as careful as possible then.” Elizabeth studied Amy for a long minute before she added, “Let’s eat our lunch.”
After she and Amy finished, Elizabeth rang the bell. The students traipsed in and took their seats. “Our lesson this afternoon comes from the Bible and is about how a man helped a stranger. I’ll read the passage and then you may ask questions. Write your questions down so you won’t forget.”
The scratch of chalk on slate boards, the occasional shuffling of feet, shifting positions, and Jimmy whispering to the boy in front of him disturbed the silence. Elizabeth sat down at her desk and pulled a drawer opened. Her breath caught as the beady eyes of a grass snake stared up her. The schoolroom stilled, waiting for a scream, all eyes on her. She calmly plucked the reptile from her drawer and held it up for the class to see. Without the appearance of rushing, she walked over and threw the snake out the window. This was the second time she’d found such a creature in her desk this week. She looked at Jimmy. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Very well, two can play at this game. I am prepared for you this time. Lifting an envelope out of the drawer, she marched over to Jimmy’s desk. “Hold out your hand.”
He hesitated but complied. She opened the envelope, retrieved an object and placed the item in Jimmy’s hand. He yelled and dropped the dead snake’s head on the floor.
“Why, Jimmy. I had no idea you would be afraid of a dead snake’s head since you handle such creatures often. I never would have joshed you if I’d known.”
The students laughed and chided Jimmy until Elizabeth called the room to order. “Back to work, please.”
Elizabeth became aware of the passing of the day when shadows crawled into the windows on the west side of the room. The small clock on the bookshelf ticked loudly as if rushing the day to a close.
“Remember what we studied today. Tomorrow, I’ll be asking you questions. Class is dismissed.” She watched the students trail through the door, some pushing to get outside, the boys running ahead.
For a few weeks, the thought of interfering in Amy’s life rumbled around in Elizabeth’s thoughts, not wise, and certainly a detriment to a much-needed career, but she couldn’t allow the girl to be ill-treated. Her stomach knotted at the thought.
Could she do anything to prevent such happenings? Elizabeth crammed her books into her satchel and called after the orphan child. “Amy, wait for me.”
Chapter 5
Elizabeth hurried out the door, shutting it behind her. Amy stood waiting. Her brown hair hung long and tangled beside an unsmiling face too mature for her age. With her serious, light brown eyes, she gazed back at Elizabeth, her stare disinterested. She seemed burdened and alone despite the outward appearance of similarity to her classmates. She wore the same simple calico dress as the other girls but didn’t have their carefree ways.
The school year had barely begun and Amy had missed several days of school already. But she’d proved intelligent and wise beyond her years, intent on absorbing knowledge.
Elizabeth understood being lonely and afraid. She comprehended the defensive stance Amy adopted toward authority as well. Were the Blakes exactly cruel to the young girl? Elizabeth decided to find out the truth
of the matter. “I’ll walk you home. Let me lock the door first.”
Amy stood her ground and stared at Elizabeth with apprehension on her face. “No need. I walk by myself all the time. It’s only a little over a mile to the house.”
Elizabeth reached Amy’s side. “But I thought you lived in the settlement.”
Amy hung her head. “Naw. I mean, no, ma’am. That’s a mite farther. Nearly another mile or thereabouts.”
The young girl squinted up at Elizabeth dodging the sunlight glinting off the brass studs lining the edge of Elizabeth’s satchel.
Elizabeth headed for the sweetgum tree beside the path. “Let’s stand in the shade while we talk.”
“I don’t have time for lots of standing,” Amy said, her lips narrowed in a thin, stubborn line.
Elizabeth ignored her complaint and waited until Amy stood in front of her. “The other children have gone on ahead. Do you usually walk with any of them?”
“No, ma’am.”
Elizabeth stepped on a sweetgum ball throwing her boot against a root that had ruptured the ground, pushing through the sod. “Blast those sweetgum balls. Someone could break a leg.” She glanced down at Amy. “Why don’t you walk with the other students?”
“The boys run ahead and skip rocks, sometimes at us. The girls—well, I need to hurry and they don’t keep up.”
Elizabeth placed her satchel on the ground. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
With a disgusted frown that clearly stated grow-ups never understand anything, Amy explained, “Cause Mrs. Blake expects me at the house in time to start the supper and mind the young’uns.”
Elizabeth’s heart twisted in sympathy, but surely Amy exaggerated her situation as children often will. “Earlier, you told me you always start supper. How often is always?”
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