Gingham Mountain

by Mary Connealy

  Hannah braced herself.

  Quincy looked uncomfortable, but he stepped forward. “We need to discuss the trouble here at school yesterday. We’re concerned that the children won’t be able to learn in these conditions.”

  Mystified, Hannah asked, “What trouble? The children all worked hard, and they seemed—each one of them—bright and eager to learn.”

  “Of course they’re bright,” the woman who’d poked Quincy said. “Did you expect our children to be stupid?”

  Another woman interrupted, “Let Quincy speak for us, Gladys. We agreed.”

  Hannah opened her mouth to apologize. Of course she hadn’t expected her students to be stupid, but caution kept her silent. Instead of talking she began to pray. She waited to hear what the problem really was, terribly afraid she knew already.

  “It’s not that our children didn’t learn.” Quincy looked from his toes to Hannah and back. “It’s just. . .we don’t like the idea of them uh. . .uh. . .”

  Gladys lifted her nose even higher in the air. “Mixing with the wrong sorts.”

  Hannah remained silent. Her empty stomach twisted with dread. This was what Grant had been talking about. These people had made it impossible for the children at the Rocking C to attend school. Her prayers flowed to God as she wondered how she was going to feed herself. Because if these people insisted she send the black children home, or for that matter the orphan children home, she was quitting.

  Gladys elbowed Quincy in a way that made Hannah guess he was her husband. “Get on with it.”

  “It’s just that. . .that. . .” Quincy fell silent.

  The other man was thin and nervous looking. “I’m Theodore Mackey, Miss Cartwright. We got together last night and decided we needed to meet with you. We all just want what’s best for our children.”

  Hannah finally had control of herself enough to speak calmly. “School went very well yesterday. I don’t see the need to change a thing.”

  “We saw that older girl. . . ,” Theodore said.

  “Which older girl?” Although Hannah knew which quite well. Sadie.

  “The Negro.” Gladys said it as if she were spitting.

  “Well,” Quincy said, “she was playing with the other children and sitting right with the other girls.”

  Another woman spoke up. “They’re all part of the orphanage that man runs on his ranch.”

  “His name is Grant, Agnes. And well you know it. I’m Ella Johnson,” the third woman said. She looked at Hannah while she introduced herself then turned back to the crowd she’d come in with. “Now being orphans doesn’t make those children bad. They had no say in how they came into this world.”

  Hannah immediately focused on Ella Johnson, hoping she’d found an ally.

  “You’re just saying that because your sister married one of Grant’s brood,” Gladys said.

  “That’s right, Gladys, that’s exactly why I’m saying this. I know what a decent man Will is, and Grant raised him. It’s not right to deny those children a place in this school just because they came out here on a train.”

  “It’s more than that,” Gladys snapped.

  “Then it’s about that girl being black?” Ella stood her ground

  Gladys turned toward her. “It’s about more than their skin color.”

  Ella might be better able to absorb any cruel words Gladys jabbed at her, but this was Hannah’s fight. “Ella, if you don’t mind, I’ll handle this.”

  Ella looked at her then with a nod said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What’s going on here?” Grant’s voice, far harder than usual, broke into the conversation.

  All of the people confronting Hannah turned to the back of the schoolroom.

  “Glad you’re here, Grant,” Ella said. “I’m planning to see that your children get the education they’ve got coming.”

  At Ella’s announcement, dead silence fell over the group.

  “Obliged, Ella.” Grant stayed near the back of the room, looking over the rows of desks at his neighbors. “But this is my fight.”

  Ella fidgeted but didn’t say anything.

  “No, it’s not, Grant. It’s mine.” Hannah rested her hands on her waist. “I’m the teacher of this school, and I’ll be the one to talk with parents who have a problem with the way I run things.”

  “This isn’t about you, Hannah. It’s about my children.” Grant pulled his hat off his head in a reflex show of manners. But there was nothing polite in his expression. Grant stared at the group for a long awkward minute, then he turned from them to Hannah. “I most always accompany the children to school the second day and come in ahead of them so I can attend this meeting. It waited until the third day this year because my young’uns didn’t come in on Monday. Three whole days in school.” Grant laughed bitterly. “A new record. ’Course they missed the first and are being kicked out before the third begins.”

  “This happens every time?” Hannah fought to control her temper. If the angry words that pressed to get out escaped, she’d say things that, no matter the provocation, she shouldn’t say.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Grant went back to staring at the group. “And they’re here. As dependable as the rising sun.”

  He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut and shook his head. “What’s the use? I’ll just take them home,” he said to Hannah, as if the others weren’t there. “They really liked school. They really liked you for a teacher, Hannah. But I won’t subject them to this treatment.”

  “They were treated well.” Hannah pushed past the crowd and ran to catch hold of Grant’s arm as he turned to leave.

  “So I heard. And they really felt like they could learn things from you that I’m missing. Marilyn talked about becoming a teacher. She said you let her help, and she really enjoyed it. Maybe if you recommended the right books for them, I can do better.”

  She refused to let go of his wrist. “They’re not quitting school!”

  Grant looked at Hannah, and she felt his kindness and the regret he had over taking his family out of school. But she could see how fiercely he wanted to protect them.

  Whispering for only Grant to hear, she said, “I don’t know how I could have looked in your eyes a single time and doubted that you’d take good care of your children.”

  Grant’s eyes lost some of their wintry sadness. “Thanks, Hannah. I’d best be going.”

  Hannah held on tight. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Still latched on to him, she turned to the group of complainers. She knew if she said what needed saying, she’d be fired. She didn’t have a spare penny to feed herself. Still, she couldn’t stand by and let Grant’s children be cast out while she stayed safely employed. “If you don’t allow orphans in this school as students, then I’m sure you wouldn’t want one as a teacher,” she said politely. “I’m afraid you’ll have to fire me. I’m an orphan myself.”

  Fear, disgust, and surprise crossed the faces of the people in front of her, all but Ella. Then Grant tugged on the hand she had latched onto him, dragging her attention back.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, and she spoke low to keep their conversation private. “I don’t like to talk about it. It. . . M–my childhood. . .was awful.”

  “That’s why you were so worried about the children. That’s why you expected the worst.” Grant fell silent for a second. “That’s how you got those marks on your back.”

  Hannah nodded.

  “That’s why you care so much.”

  Hannah lifted her chin and almost fell forward into the understanding in Grant’s eyes. He’d know how it was. She’d spent all her life being strong for her little sisters and Grace, never adding her misery to the weight anyone else had to bear. But Grant was strong. He could bear a lot. He’d lived much like her. Like a yawning chasm, the dangers of sharing everything about herself opened at her feet. Tempting her to take that step.

  “My years as an orphan weren’t pleasa
nt. Too much work, too little food, not enough love. Then I got adopted and things got worse. I escaped from the man who adopted me, and I have been looking over my shoulder since I left, wondering if he’s searching. He’s the type to want revenge.”

  Grant rested a strong hand on her arm, as if could take all of the bad memories away. . .or at least replace them with new ones that would outshine the bad. Hannah wanted to tell him more, tell him everything.

  “There was certainly no mention of you being an orphan when you applied for the job of teacher.” Gladys scowled, striding toward the back of the classroom. “You have lied to us, Miss Cartwright.”

  Applied? Hannah remembered her interview and almost smiled. She turned away from the offer Grant made with a kind touch and understanding eyes and faced the lynch mob. She’d just handed them all the rope they needed to hang her. “I didn’t lie. I’m a twenty-year-old woman.” Hannah wasn’t all that sure, but it was a fair guess. “And how I was raised had nothing to do with whether I could do this job.”

  Furious, she ruthlessly suppressed her temper, knowing they would chalk up any bad behavior on her part to dreaded orphanhood. “I just didn’t tell you everything about my childhood. The full truth is I’ve been teaching children all my life. When I was adopted, I was taken to a home where the man pressed all of us into work at a carpet weaving factory. I was six when I started working sixteen-hour days. I and my older sister taught my younger sisters how to read and write and cipher late at night when my father wouldn’t catch us and punish us for it.”

  “Still, you should have been more forthcoming, Miss Cartwright.” Gladys sniffed and began pulling on her gloves as if the meeting were over.

  Hannah suspected it was. “The only lie I told you was my name.” Hannah glanced up at Grant and tears filled her eyes. “I made up the name Cartwright. I don’t know what my last name is.”

  “Orphans can’t be trusted,” Gladys went on. “And I believe your lies have proved that to us.”

  “They learn bad ways that have to be taught out of them,” Agnes said. “Maybe Grant does all right when he has them for a long time to train them, but he keeps getting new ones and—”

  “You can fire me if you want, but I will not listen to you speak ill of Grant’s children. They are good, hardworking children who were a wonderful addition to this classroom.”

  Ella shoved herself between Hannah and Gladys. “Hannah is not fired, and Grant’s children are welcome in this school. You do not make the decisions here, Gladys. I’ve already talked with the parson and Harold at the general store. They both heard good things about the school and want Miss Cartwright to stay.”

  Gladys’s lip curled. “You went behind my back to talk to them?”

  Grant stepped in front of Ella. “Stay out of this, Ella. You’ve got to live in town with these folks. I don’t want trouble stirred up that’s going to bother you, or your sister and Will.”

  What Hannah heard in Grant’s voice humbled her. He was worried about someone else. Nothing she’d felt had come close to the depth of Grant’s kindness. How many times had Hannah longed for a father to care this much?

  It inspired her to be kind herself, when her temper wanted free rein. She walked around Grant and Ella and faced Gladys. “I know how much you love your children, Mrs. Harrison. I know you only want what’s best for them.”

  Gladys’s mouth clicked shut.

  “Did any of your children come home upset about school?” Hannah looked right at Gladys, but her question was for everyone.

  Quincy said, “It was just the opposite. I’ve never had my young’uns so excited about learning. Why, my littlest one even read a few words out of the family Bible and he wrote his name, after only one day of school.”

  “That’s Emory,” Hannah said. “He was so good yesterday. So eager to learn. He’s a really special little boy, Mr. Harrison. I’ll have to work hard to keep ahead of him.”

  Quincy fairly glowed with pride.

  Even Gladys’s dour expression softened. “He’s always been quick. He keeps the two older boys working on their studies, afraid their little brother will catch up and pass them.”

  Hannah laughed, and several of the group who had been so disapproving before smiled. “And your twins, Agnes, they are so pretty. They tried to fool me about their names once yesterday, but I had them figured out from the first.”

  “You could tell Samantha and Emily apart?” Agnes shook her head. “Are you sure? They even manage to trick me and their pa part of the time.”

  “I counted the freckles on their noses the first minute I saw them.”

  “Their freckles?” the twin’s father exclaimed. “I’d never thought of that.”

  “I knew a set of twins when I was young, in the orphanage, and they liked to play twin tricks, but I could tell it meant the world to them if someone could tell them apart. So I suspected your girls would feel the same. Samantha has ten freckles and Emily only has eight. Emily and eight, both start with E. It was easy after I figured that out, if they just gave me a second to count.”

  Agnes and her husband smiled.

  Grant said to the parents, “Miss Cartwright, having so much experience with children, knew a way to touch your daughters’ hearts. Being an orphan is the reason she’s as good at teaching as she is.”

  Gladys looked long and hard at Hannah.

  Ella’s hand rested on Hannah’s shoulder. “Say all you want about this being someone else’s fight, Grant’s or Miss Cartwright’s, but I’ve got the backing of the school board. Two against one, Quincy. You’ll have to persuade them to change their minds in order to fire Hannah.”

  Hannah wanted to weep at Ella’s generous courage. Hannah hadn’t planned it, but she had come to be standing between Grant and Ella as if they were guarding her.

  The parents had come in here with their minds made up, and it didn’t sit well, especially with Gladys, to change. But Gladys was proud of her boy, Emory.

  Finally Gladys relented, relaxing her shoulders. The rest of the group took their cue from her and exhaled silently.

  “It’s true that you did a good job here yesterday, Miss Cartwright. And it’s true that Ella’s brother-in-law is a good man. I can see that with my own eyes. And Grant, your son Ian is a good blacksmith, honest and hardworking. I’m just. . .” Gladys hesitated.

  “You want your three boys to grow up to be decent men.” Hannah nodded as she spoke. “You’re watching out for them and trying to protect them from being hurt or being led astray. That’s what any mother would do. You were right to come in here and get your questions answered. You come back in any time you are concerned about the school, Gladys. I will work with you to give your boys the best education I can.”

  Gladys seized on Hannah’s offer as if she’d gotten exactly what she’d come in for. “I’ll just do that, Miss Cartwright. You won’t be doing anything in this school of which I disapprove.”

  Hannah had a sudden inspiration. “You know what would be really good? If you would take control of part of the Easter pageant I’m planning.”

  Gladys’s eyes gleamed. Hannah thought the use of the word “control” was inspired. It looked like Gladys thought she should control the whole world.

  “I’m going to teach them songs, and there’ll be a speaking part for every child. There’ll be songs and Bible readings. I’ve written it to be appropriate for children. We’ll need simple costumes, and I’d like the parson to say a few words and maybe the parents could bring in cookies so we could have refreshments afterwards.” Hannah heard the enthusiasm in her voice, and she thought she saw a corresponding reaction of interest from the parents.

  “Gladys, you could be in charge of organizing the whole thing. The children will need help learning the songs and their parts. I think we should insist that they memorize everything.”

  Now Gladys was really excited. Hannah surmised that she was a woman who was all for “insisting.”

  “Why, I’d be happy to take charge,
Miss Cartwright,” Gladys said.

  “I’ll help,” Ella offered. The other parents chorused their willingness to get involved, although Hannah noticed Grant stayed silent. Hannah wondered if they realized yet that they’d just agreed to let her keep her job until spring and had quit trying to get Grant’s children expelled. She didn’t point it out.

  “We haven’t ever had an Easter pageant in Sour Springs. I think it’s a great idea.” Quincy turned to his wife. “Now, we’d better let Miss Cartwright get on with her preparations for school.”

  The angry little mob of parents disbursed in a flurry of cheer.

  Ella patted Grant on the shoulder. “Will wanted to come, but I thought he might make things worse.”

  Grant nodded silently and Ella left.

  Hannah heaved a sigh of relief.

  EIGHTEEN

  Grant heaved a sigh of despair.

  “They’ll never leave my family alone.” He turned to face Hannah. “They were this mad after yesterday, and yesterday there was no trouble. Just wait until one of your students goes home crying because Sadie beat him in a spelling bee. That bunch will be back.”

  Grant noticed Hannah’s hands were trembling as she crossed her arms.

  “I can’t believe they let me off as easily as they did. I thought I was done for from the minute they showed up because I was going to quit before I let them drive your children out of the school.”

  “Don’t sacrifice your job, Hannah.” Grant put his hat on with a rough jerk of the brim and turned to go. “I don’t expect you to do that for me.”

  “I wouldn’t cross the street for you, you idiot.” She grabbed his arm and spun him around.

  She only managed to manhandle him because he was turning back toward her anyway in surprise. Grant had one split second after she exploded to marvel at how well she’d kept her cool with that posse of orphan haters. Then she attacked.

  “If you think I’d side with that mean-spirited, selfish bunch of vigilantes over your children, you don’t—”

  Grant held up both hands to ward her off. “Look, Hannah, I didn’t mean—”