Then his soul would rest in peace.
Chapter 13
Evie listened to her beginning students sing-songing the alphabet and almost felt contentment. She never felt better than when she looked over a sea of clean-scrubbed young faces and knew she was making a difference in their lives, however small that difference might be.
Glancing at the recalcitrant scowl on young Jose's face as he mouthed gibberish, she had to smile at how small a difference she made in some of her students. Jose apparently had the impression that real men didn't need book learning. The only reason he was here today was because his oldest sister threatened to beat him into sour mash if he didn't come.
Evie glanced to her older students who were supposed to be diligently composing an essay on why arithmetic was important in a modern world. Carmen had already completed her essay and was neatly penning it into perfect script on a clean sheet of paper. Most of the others were using the elbows of their shirtsleeves to erase the chalk on their slates for the first draft. It was amazing how two children from the same family could be so different.
The middle child from the Rodriguez family, Manuel, was nodding off behind a book he had carefully propped in front of him. He was a bright child and could do his work without help, he just seemed to have other interests that deprived him of his rest. She would have to look into that situation soon.
There was another situation she would have to look into soon, also, but it wasn't the kind of thing Evie wanted to think about on a beautiful spring day with the faces of innocent children turned on her. Her stomach tightened nervously at just the thought, and the pain lodged somewhere around her heart began to act up again. She couldn't think about it now. Wouldn't think about it.
As she dismissed the children for recess and began straightening up the room to the sounds of their cheerful cries, she let herself dwell on the few times she had seen Tyler recently.
She had scarcely seen him at all in these weeks since he had gone to stay with the Hardings. If she did, it was by accident. One time, she had been in the feed store inquiring about loose kernels of corn for an art project when Tyler walked in. He had been his usual charming self, offering to carry her parcels, walking her to the hotel, inviting her for coffee. But Mr. Averill's twins had been sitting on the hotel steps waiting for Evie, and the invitation had mysteriously disappeared.
Another time she had been in the company of Carmen and her baby sister, and Tyler had merely made polite noises and wandered off. She would never understand the man, and she didn't mean to try. It was the third time Evie had seen him that made her stick to her decision. He had been coming out of the saloon with one of the saloon girls on his arm. Evie knew the woman was a saloon girl even though she was wearing a dress a hundred times more respectable than the one Bessie had worn back in Natchez. Evie had made a point of getting to know the saloon girls, but Tyler didn't have to know that.
It had been impossible to disregard the look of satisfaction on Tyler's handsome face as he smiled down at the woman. He certainly hadn't looked like that when he'd jumped up and left Evie the morning after that disastrous night. Evie didn't even try to dissect her feelings on seeing that look. She had just walked up to greet Starr, said hello to Tyler, and watched surprise replace his smug satisfaction. It hadn't felt as good as she had hoped, but it was better than going back to her room and crying her eyes out.
There were hundreds of men in this town besides Tyler Monteigne. All she had to do was decide among them. None of them seemed particularly concerned about who her parents were or if they even existed. It wasn't the same as St. Louis society at all.
But knowing that she could literally pick and choose among all the single men in town left Evie thoroughly disinterested in the process. It had been a challenge before, forcing men to look at her and acknowledge she was just as good as every other woman in the room. She had enjoyed the challenge, but she had never wanted the prize that had to be won in such a manner. Now she didn't even have the challenge to look forward to. It was perverse of her, she knew, but she couldn't figure out what she would do with any of the men if she caught them.
Perhaps when Mr. Hale returned and she found out who her parents were, she would feel more secure and everything would change. She might even return to St. Louis. That thought brought a frown to Evie's face as the children obediently trampled back in at the sound of the bell she was ringing.
There wouldn't be money to return to St. Louis unless something happened soon. The hotel was eating into their funds, and there didn't seem to be an inexpensive place to rent anywhere in town. People didn't leave Mineral Springs. They built their houses and moved in to stay.
She would check at the general store after school and see if the mail had arrived yet. She and Daniel had arranged for their mail and Nanny's to be forwarded here, but so far there hadn't been anything. The month was up. There ought to be another check. She prayed that no one had heard of Nanny's death yet. Without those monthly allowances, they could be starving shortly.
The day had grown warm by the time classes were dismissed. Evie cleaned up the room and straightened the desks. Assured everything was in its proper order for the morrow, she hurried out into the bright Texas sun. She might never get used to the seemingly endless parade of sunshine, even in spring. A wind caught her skirt and whipped it around her ankles, and Evie glanced at the horizon. Perhaps some end to the sun was in sight. A dark cloud spread across the distant sky.
The clerk at the general store shook his head when Evie inquired about mail, and dispirited, she started back to the hotel. Dust swirled up out of the street, and she stayed on the boardwalk to keep her petticoat clean. Even laundering their clothes had become an expensive proposition. They would have to do something soon.
Evie visited the privy first, ascertained that her time of month still hadn't come, and feeling even more depressed, climbed the stairs to wash in the lukewarm water in the stand beside her bed.
Perhaps she ought to check and see if Mr. Hale had returned yet. She looked hopefully toward the window, but she could only see the cloud moving closer. It looked is if it were raining farther up the river. That's just what she needed when she was feeling like this—rain.
She couldn't visit the lawyer's office so soon after last time. People would grow suspicious. Maybe Daniel would have heard something. All the news went to the paper office eventually.
If only she had some means of cooking meals, they wouldn't have to spend so much money at the cafe. Checking the coins in their private hoard, Evie calculated how many they would need to eat for the next week. If they just had soup until Friday, there would be sufficient means to pay another week's rent on their rooms.
They would have to go back to sharing a room, or Evie would have to stay with the parents of her students. Putting the purse back in the drawer, she heard Daniel's limping footsteps down the hall. They had discussed the question before, but neither of them could agree on the solution. This time, they would have to come up with answers.
"We're in for a downpour Mr. Averill says," Daniel announced as he entered without knocking. "My leg itches like hell, so he's most likely right."
"Daniel!" Evie frowned at this use of a word for which Nanny would have washed out his mouth with soap.
Daniel shrugged and sprawled in the chair beside the bed. "Everyone says it. You don't want people to think I'm a girl, do you?"
Daniel's rebellion was just one more headache added o the list of headaches Evie was already dealing with. She wasn't used to everything going wrong at once. Actually, she wasn't used to anything going wrong, ever. Nanny had always seen that everything in their lives went smoothly. There hadn't been much she could do about Evie's parentage or Daniel's limp, but beyond that they had lived relatively uneventful lives.
And now they were almost broke, she might be pregnant, and Daniel—her best friend—was turning rebellious. The simplest thing to do would be to break down and cry.
Before she could do so, th
e heavens did it for her. Rain crashed against the hotel's tin roof, and they both ran to the window to see their first Texas storm.
"My word, it moved in fast." Evie watched the thick clouds scudding across the sky. Rain plastered the windows and sent gullies down the dirt streets, falling faster than the ruts could carry it off.
"We're going to get wet if we go to the cafe to eat," Daniel said gloomily.
"I don't suppose you've heard any word about a place to live, have you?" Unable to bear the gray gloom, Evie turned from the window to pick up a book. She'd had all the trunks carried up, and they now filled an entire corner of the room, spilling books and paints and all the accoutrements of fine living.
"Mr. Averill says I can make a bed in the back of the shop if I want. That will give us enough money for you to stay here for a couple more weeks. Maybe the lawyer will be back by then."
"If you stay there, then I'll stay with my students. That will give us enough to scrape by on for a month, if we can stand a month of soup and crackers. I wish there were some discreet way of selling some of my clothes but there isn't even a dressmaker in town." Actually Evie did have an idea about how to sell some of her evening gowns, but she wasn't about to mention it to Daniel.
"Maybe you can persuade the school board to pay your salary monthly instead of quarterly. With free rooms, we could eat a little better, and you wouldn't have to sell anything."
Evie had contemplated that idea, but she suspected it would lead to talking to Jace Harding and then word would get to Tyler that they were short of cash, and she wasn't about to have that happen. She would sell all her clothes first.
"We'll see," she replied evasively.
They read until the rain let up enough to venture out. By that time it was almost dark. Evie offered to bring soup back for Daniel, but he insisted on accompanying her. He couldn't offer much protection, but Nanny had brought him up to behave like a gentleman, even if he never could be a whole one. And gentlemen didn't allow ladies to walk the streets at night unescorted.
The boardwalk was wet and slippery as they started out for the cafe. Oil lamps flickered in several windows along the way, but the hotel was in the town's business district, and most everyone had gone home. The saloon in the other direction was conducting a noisy business, but the rain had kept even their customers home to a great extent. The music was loud but the laughter was not.
The early gloom depressed their spirits as much as the bowls of potato soup that constituted their supper. Evie tried to keep their spirits up by commenting it was good that they didn't have beans again, but Daniel growled that it could at least have been beef, and the conversation died after that.
Rain had begun to fall again when they left the cafe. Daniel's cane slipped on the slick surface of bare wood, but he caught himself and remained upright. Evie could have gone to the hotel twice as fast on her own, but Daniel's mood was so bad that she couldn't do that to him. She expressed fear of the shadows and clutched his arm when a drunk down the road staggered out of the saloon cursing someone still inside. Daniel straightened and walked a little faster.
Perhaps it was her fault then, that he slipped on the steps down to the cross street. He was hurrying to impress her, and this time when the cane slipped and his foot went out from under him, he couldn't make the adjustment. He staggered, grabbed for support, and went stumbling sideways down the stairs into the mud.
Evie screamed as he pitched forward, but she screamed even louder a moment later at a snapping sound. Daniel's moan of pain brought her down on her knees in the mud without any regard to petticoats or skirt.
Her first scream was sufficient to alert John in the cafe and the drunk in the street, and before long people came tumbling out of both buildings to investigate. Someone pulled Evie out of the mud and away from Daniel. There was a scuffle as some of the more sober men pushed the drunk and his friends away. Daniel stoically tried to stifle any further groans, but when the men lifted him, he gave a cry and passed out.
Evie didn't even know she was crying until someone handed her a handkerchief as they entered the hotel. She had been wondering how anything could get worse, and now she knew. White-faced, she watched as the men carried an unconscious Daniel up to his room. If anything happened to Daniel, she would never forgive herself. She should never have griped about his recent contrariness. He had a right to be contrary once in a while. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, better than having her own brother. She couldn't let him suffer for her sins.
She knew she was being hysterical, but she couldn't stop crying. Someone sent for a doctor, but Evie refused to change into dry clothes while they waited for him to appear. She sat beside Daniel's bed, sponging off his muddy face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she wished he would wake and grin at her again.
Men shuffled around her. The town was full of men. Men operated the hotel and cafe. Men frequented the saloon. Only men would be out on a night like this. Only men stayed in a hotel. The women were safely behind closed doors on the outskirts of town, in lighted rooms serving supper to their children. Evie wished Nanny were here.
A slight figure in faded black skirts rustled in, scolding the men in Spanish and English. Evie recognized Carmen's mother. They had never been introduced, but she had seen the woman with her children shopping in the general store. Dully, Evie realized this was the one woman who might hear of the accident. Her late husband had owned the livery by the hotel, and the family lived in a small house somewhere nearby, according to Carmen.
"You will go and change your clothes before you catch cold," she scolded Evie, literally pulling her from the chair although she was no taller than Evie. "I will clean him up, and the doctor will be here soon. Vamoose." She pushed Evie toward the door.
Having another woman to give orders seemed to work wonders. Evie stumbled to her room and stripped off all her clothes. Mud had seeped through the cotton of her gown to the petticoat beneath and from there, to her ruffled pantalets. She was a sodden mess from skin out, but she didn't feel any better after she toweled off and found dry clothes. She felt worse knowing Daniel wasn't feeling better.
The crowd had thinned out by the time she returned. Someone had helped Carmen's mother to undress Daniel and put him in a dry nightshirt. He was still unconscious, and his lame leg lay at an awkward angle. Evie felt the pain just looking at it.
The doctor arrived, and Evie retreated to a corner while he examined Daniel. Carmen's mother took Evie's hand and patted it.
"He will be fine," she whispered as Daniel uttered a whimper when the physician twisted his leg.
"Thank you, Mrs. Rodriguez." Evie managed to remember enough manners to speak.
"You must call me Angelina. No one calls me Mrs. Rodriguez." She winced as Evie's hand crushed hers when the physician tugged Daniel's leg into place, and Daniel's screams echoed to the rafters.
It would be very strange to call a woman almost old enough to be her mother by her given name. Evie merely nodded her agreement and kept her gaze focused on Daniel.
At last, the doctor had the leg straightened and wrapped, and Daniel was mercifully unconscious once more. Evie hurried to the bed, and the doctor moved aside so she could sit in the chair.
"I imagine he'll be out for a while. You can give him laudanum when he complains of the pain. Sleep will be good for him. His leg was malformed at birth, wasn't it?"
Evie didn't look up but nodded as she held Daniel's warm hand. His breathing was even. That had to be a good sign.
"Thought so." Satisfied, the doctor began to repack his bag. "I daresay it was broken then and some misinformed idiot didn't set it. It probably always gave him pain, and he learned to compensate by limping. The muscles on that side are sorely atrophied. When he fell, he broke it along the old fracture. I'd say, unless he wants to be permanently disabled, he'd better learn to exercise that leg while it heals."
Something in the doctor's voice jerked Evie from her reverie, and she turned to look at the man. "
You mean if they'd set his leg at birth, he would be whole today?"
The doctor nodded. "Probably. Now the bone's grown crooked, and there isn't a lot I can do to straighten it. I've set it the best I can, and he's young; that's in his favor. But his muscles in that leg aren't strong enough to support a growing young man. In a week or so, I'd say he needs to start lifting that leg up and down. That will build the muscle. He can start slowly, but he'll have to keep increasing the exercise. He won't be able to get out of bed for some time. I don't want him walking on that leg until it's completely healed. But he can do various exercises while he's in bed. I'll be back to show him when the time comes."
The doctor scribbled out his bill, left it with Evie, and bustled out. The men who had carried Daniel had been slowly departing. The last one tugged his hat and left now. Angelina Rodriguez offered to sit with Daniel for a while, but Evie thanked her and sent her home to her children. Daniel would expect to see her here when he woke.
Not until the room cleared did Evie glance at the piece of paper in her hand. The bill was for almost exactly the same amount of coins remaining in her purse.
Chapter 14
She had to pay the hotel bill. There wasn't any way Daniel could be moved to the back of the newspaper office now.
Evie's stomach churned as she stared out at the leaden sky the next evening. She had given Daniel some laudanum, and he slept peacefully for the moment. She put her hand to her abdomen and stared at the rain-drenched streets. She knew what she had to do, but she was so scared that she couldn't think straight.
Crying hadn't helped. She had cried herself to sleep last night, but all she'd had to show for it this morning was reddened eyes. She had sent word that she wouldn't be able to teach today. It was Friday. That gave her two more days to come up with a few solutions. If she was going to do it, she had to start tonight. She had to be back in class on Monday or risk losing what little income they had. If Daniel couldn't work, their wages were practically cut in half.
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