by Irene Brand
“Most anytime, Mr. Daniel,” Dove said, speaking English as well as Daniel’s own.
“Then I’ll invite them for this coming Sunday after church.”
Nodding, Dove said, “What do you want me to fix?”
Laughing, Daniel patted her shoulder, “Anything you prepare will be wonderful. You’re the cook—I’m not. I’ll check with Granny to be sure they can come.”
Pleased with himself and refusing to admit how much he was attracted to Marie, Daniel went to the phone, and wonder of wonders, he not only reached his grandmother on the first call, but she agreed to come.
“That is, if it’s convenient for Marie,” she qualified her statement. “I’ll let you know after I talk with her tonight.”
He couldn’t tell from the tone of his granny’s voice whether she was surprised. He’d never invited any other woman to have dinner with him. Well, let her think what she wanted to.
* * *
Throughout the next two days, as Lena guided her around the area to meet the families who would have children attending the school, Marie occasionally wondered why Daniel had invited her to his home. But she was so dismayed at the poor living conditions of many of the families that she didn’t spend much time thinking about Daniel and the invitation.
Although Lena told her that the majority of the parents couldn’t read, Marie had nailed to trees and fence posts several posters giving the school hours.
During those visits she learned that she would have twenty students, ranging in age from five years old to one girl who was eighteen. There were fifteen various-sized students’ seats, which meant that some of the children would have to share a desk. She would have preferred that each student have a personal desk, but she wasn’t going to complain to the trustees about the school’s needs until she’d taught for a month or two. The books would be adequate unless they’d overlooked children who should be in school. Acting on Lena’s advice, she would seat the boys on one side of the room, with an aisle to separate them from the girls on the other side.
When Marie commented on the parents’ obvious interest in the education of their children to Lena, the former schoolteacher hesitated before she answered slowly, “Well, we haven’t visited Chestnut Flats yet.”
Surprised, Marie said, “But why would any parents object to their children having an education? All children should have the opportunity to attend school.”
“I believe that and you believe it,” Lena said, “but...”
“But what?”
“Chestnut Flats is a notorious region of Cades Cove. Some of the residents moved into that area because they’d gotten into trouble with the law in towns hereabouts. Quite a few bootleggers live there, too. They avoid Cades Cove, and we’re satisfied to keep it that way.”
Marie mulled the situation back and forth in her mind, before she said, “That isn’t fair for the children. I can already foresee that parents of some children who do come to school won’t want their children to be in the company of those from Chestnut Flats. Whether they attend or not, I feel that I should at least give them an opportunity to do so.”
Laughing, Lena said, “I knew you’d see it that way—that’s why I’ve been debating whether or not to even mention it. You’ll have a more peaceful school year if you don’t stir up that hornet’s nest. I agree that those children should not be neglected, but let’s pray about it before you make a decision.”
“Yes, my parents taught me to pray for guidance about any and all problems. A few times when I’ve not done so, I’ve lived to regret it. You’re such a blessing to me, Lena. I thank God for placing you in my life.”
“Well, you’re a blessing to me, too! I lost my daughter when Daniel was a baby, and I still miss her. I love Daniel, and I certainly loved his father, too, but it’s not the same as having a girl around. I just know we’re going to have a wonderful school year.”
Putting her arms around Lena’s shoulders, Marie gave her a tight hug. “I’m very flattered. And I know Mother will consider that quite a compliment. I wouldn’t be the sort of person you’d want to claim if it hadn’t been for her love and guidance.”
* * *
Marie had been accustomed to walking from their home in Canaan several times a week, but it seemed that since she’d been in Cades Cove, she’d ridden in the buggy or on horseback when she went anywhere. One afternoon, feeling the need for exercise as well as a time to meditate, Marie put on a jacket and told Lena she was going for a walk. She turned on the road toward Canaan and walked slowly, needing time to sort out her thoughts and sentiments about this move to Cades Cove.
Had accepting the teacher’s position in the Cove been a mistake? She was dismayed by the overwhelming needs of the children she would be teaching. Could she make a difference in their lives? Could she relate to them when her life had been so different? Did she know how to teach children who were far behind the other children their age?
Having been taught by her mother at an early age that she shouldn’t make any decisions without praying for God’s guidance in giving the answer, Marie believed that He had approved her move to Cades Cove. Still, sometimes she wondered if she would have come if she hadn’t wanted to see more of Daniel. After she’d walked and meditated for a mile or two, Marie was again convinced that God had approved her move. Could it be that He wanted her to be instrumental in leading Daniel to a different attitude concerning Him? What was to be her role in Daniel’s life?
Although she was busy with preparations for the opening of the school season, Marie thought about the invitation from Daniel to visit his home. She’d gathered from a few comments made by Lena that the house was somewhat out of the ordinary in the Cove. Shaking her head, Lena had said, “I don’t know what ever possesses Daniel to live in such a mansion alone. I thought he intended to marry Viola.” Laughing lightly, she added, “I think Viola thought he would, too.”
This comment startled Marie, and she’d said, “Would you welcome Viola as a granddaughter?”
“Not particularly, but I would like to have some great-grandchildren before I die. However, Daniel seems to be perfectly content as a bachelor.”
Remembering the conversation she’d had with her father, and his desire for grandchildren, Marie said, “You remind me of Dad. He wasn’t a bit happy when I agreed to come to Cades Cove as a teacher. I think he was sorry he’d sent me to college. I didn’t like to disappoint him, but even as a child, I daydreamed about teaching school.”
Glancing quickly at Marie, Lena said, “Does that mean you intend to make a career of teaching? Don’t you ever intend to marry?”
Marie didn’t answer the question, saying instead, “I don’t know that there’s a law forbidding a married woman from teaching.”
“But would you want to teach if you had children?” Lena asked.
“I wasn’t thinking of myself in particular. My mother wasn’t a teacher, but she spent many hours helping people with health problems. Of course, we had a cook and housekeeper, so that freed Mother to help those in the community who needed her.”
After Marie had walked another mile or more, she sat on a fallen log beside the road and drew a deep breath. She couldn’t believe that in the short time she’d been in Cades Cove she’d become so involved in the lives of the people. Having lived all her life in such a loving home and having two devoted parents, she had dreaded leaving.
Smiling, she remembered Aunt Fannie’s comment. “You’s got the best home in the world, missy, and I can’t imagine what would make you want to leave it to teach school in some God-forsaken place like the Cove!”
Marie had tried to think of an explanation that would help Aunt Fannie understand why she wanted to teach school. Why she wanted some freedom. Aunt Fannie had been born into slavery, although Vance’s family had granted her freedom even before the War Between the States. But with their back
ground of servitude, the few blacks that were now in the employ of Evelyn and Vance considered themselves as belonging to the family.
“I don’t know exactly why I want to show my independence, either,” Marie had said, “but it’s probably a trait I inherited from my parents. Now stop quarreling with me, Aunt Fannie, and give me a hug. Also, pray for me—I’m stepping out into the unknown, and I’m afraid.”
Aunt Fannie had grabbed Marie and squeezed so tight that Marie had laughed and said, “You’re about to crack my ribs. Don’t hug me so tight.”
“I’s gonna miss you, but I’ll pray that the good Lord will keep you safe. And don’t forgit—you’ve always got a home here.”
* * *
Marie looked forward to the visit to Daniel’s house because she’d learned from Lena that his home was a legacy from his grandfather. That Sunday, she and Lena traveled to the church in the buggy, and after the services ended, Lena turned in the opposite direction toward a wide hollow where Marie hadn’t been before. It was only a short distance before Lena made a sharp turn that brought them in sight of a magnificent farmstead.
“Oh, my!” Marie gasped. “Is that where Daniel lives?”
Lena pulled the horse to a halt, while Marie stared mesmerized at a two-story frame house located on a slight knoll at the head of the hollow. It looked more like a Southern plantation home than what she would have expected to see in Cades Cove. “Yes, and it hasn’t been a very happy home. As I’ve told you, his mother died when Daniel was still a babe. Daniel was older when his father passed away, but he’s spoiled and doesn’t live the way I would prefer. Considering his unfortunate childhood, it could be worse. I’ve sensed that Daniel blames God for the loss of his parents. I’ve tried to be a mother as well as grandmother, but I know he’s very lonely.”
“It’s a beautiful home, and looks like many of the plantation homes I saw in South Carolina. Surely with such a heritage Daniel would want to have children to carry on the family name and run this beautiful farm.”
With a pert glance in Marie’s direction, Lena said, “I haven’t given up yet. I believe I’m nearer to becoming a great-grandmother than I’ve ever been.”
Marie felt a blush cover her face, but she said, “If I were you, I wouldn’t count those great-grandchildren before they’re hatched.”
Chapter 3
Daniel must have been watching for them, for he waited on the front porch until Lena drove the buggy into the yard. He came quickly down the steps and motioned to a Cherokee youth who stood nearby. The Cherokee sauntered to the horse and held its bridle while Daniel helped his grandmother to the ground, then turned to lift Marie down. “Welcome to my home,” he said as he steadied her.
“It’s a lovely house, Daniel,” Marie said. “It reminds me of the mansion where I stayed during my two years in Charleston. I can’t believe I’m looking at a white-columned two-story brick mansion here in the mountains of North Carolina.”
“I don’t know too much about the history of the house, but it was built by my grandfather, who struck it rich in the California Gold Rush,” Daniel explained. “It’s a bigger house than I need, but it’s a legacy that I cherish. I have a few Cherokee people who work for me and keep up the house and grounds.”
Although Lena went inside, Marie stood on the porch and gazed in awe at the setting. “Why, the scenery is breathtaking. How fortunate you are to live here.”
While Lena visited with the cook and helped with last-minute dinner preparations, Daniel took Marie on a tour of the house. When they stood on the second-floor balcony and enjoyed the scenery, Daniel said hesitantly, “Perhaps I’m going about this all wrong, but I’m not the most tactful person in the world or I wouldn’t say this...but I have feelings for you that I’ve never experienced before, and I don’t like it.”
Marie glanced toward him and felt herself blush, but she laughed and said, “I’d prefer for you to comment further on that statement before I give an answer.”
“For some reason,” he said, “it seems that I often have one woman or another dangling after me. It’s been that way since I was a boy. I like women well enough, but I don’t want to get married, so I’ve never had a serious relationship with anyone. I thought I should tell you.”
“Well, Daniel, if it will make you feel any better, I don’t have any interest in getting married, either,” she said, wondering if she was being completely truthful. “Frankly, not many school boards will hire women teachers. The only reason I got this job was because no one else wanted to teach in Cades Cove. And many school boards won’t hire married women, either. So if you’re suggesting that we should be friends only, you can be assured that I’m not going to try to trap you into marriage. I’m here to teach.”
Daniel frowned and muttered, “I don’t know that suits me, either.”
Standing, Marie said, “When you make up your mind, you can let me know. In the meantime, I’m going inside to see if the women need any help.”
Marie couldn’t determine whether she was feeling anger or disappointment. One thing she did know—it was a sorry day for her when she met Daniel Watson.
* * *
Even before she started praying, Marie was convinced what God’s answer would be. She recalled incidents when Jesus had fed the multitudes, and particularly remembered the time when the disciples had tried to send the children away from Him. Jesus invited the children to gather around Him, and reproved the disciples, “Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me—for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Marie was convinced that several of those children invited to come to Him were unlearned, dirty, poor and needy, just as the ones in Chestnut Flats were. But if the Savior of the world could lower Himself to help the poor, the handicapped and the outcasts of society, could she do less?
Accusing herself of being a coward, Marie didn’t go the next day to call on parents in Chestnut Flats. Dressing in one of her oldest garments and, at Lena’s insistence, tying a scarf around her head, she hitched the mare to the buggy and set out for the schoolhouse. Since the school had been closed for several months, everything would need to be dusted and scrubbed. She got proof of that the day she and Daniel had put her books and supplies in the room and she’d returned to Lena’s covered in dirt. She also wanted to wash the windows before the first day of school. When she entered the building, she looked around helplessly, wondering how she’d ever get all of the work done.
Although the Boldens had always retained servants to do the housework, Marie’s parents had insisted that their children learn to work. Marie had worked alongside their house servant, Aunt Fannie, a few days each month. At first she resented doing the work—now she was thankful that her mother had insisted that she learn to do manual labor. Evelyn had reminded her often of the hardships the Confederate women encountered during the war and after the conflict had ended—how formerly rich women had been at a loss to know how to perform the difficult tasks they found necessary for survival. Although Evelyn didn’t expect her family members to ever be in such difficult circumstances, she wanted them to be prepared if it was ever necessary.
Now Marie knew that training hadn’t been wasted. She’d learned a lot of tasks during those hours when she’d worked beside Aunt Fannie—one of which was to have compassion for the people who had to work just to keep food on the table. Although she had looked forward to getting married when she met the right man, she wanted to prove that she could take care of herself if it was necessary.
Against his will, her brother Earl had been forced to work in the fields with the men who farmed the Bolden acres. He resented the work, and when he was sixteen he had left home. Occasionally, they’d heard news of Earl and knew that he lived in a log cabin somewhere in the Smoky Mountains. Once or twice a year when he came to Canaan to buy food supplies, he stopped by his parents’ home for a brief visit, but he never stayed overnight.
She understood that he lived off the land and had an income from trapping. Marie hadn’t seen him since she’d gone to college in Charleston two years ago.
As she often did, Marie wished that she had a closer relationship with her brother. She wondered why she and Earl weren’t more alike. Being twins, one would have thought they would have been inseparable, but her brother apparently wasn’t interested in keeping in touch with his family. She was glad to know he lived in the area and she hoped she would see him soon.
She hadn’t been in the schoolhouse very long before the door opened and a smiling Lena walked in followed by Minnie Hofsinger, and another woman, introduced to her as Lizzie Crossen, the woman who lived nearest to the schoolhouse. They carried buckets, mops and brooms. Apparently amused at Marie’s amazement that they’d come to help her, Lena said, “You didn’t think we’d let you do all of this work by yourself, did you?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Marie said, “I hadn’t given it much thought, but I was beginning to feel overwhelmed, wondering how I could possibly get the room ready in time to start school.”
“My home is just down the road a piece,” Lizzie said. “In fact, I’m sort of a janitor. When it starts getting cold, I usually build a fire in the stove and get the room warmed up before the teacher shows up. Of course, we’ve mostly had men teachers, and most of them didn’t know a broom from a mop, so the women had to keep the building clean.” Appraising Marie from head to toe, she continued, “You don’t look like you’re used to doing much cleaning, either.”
Marie was surprised by such a candid welcome, but she laughed and said, “I haven’t done much, I’ll admit, however, my mother was strict in her training. She was an orphan and was raised by nuns in England. And my father had fought in the War Between the States, so he also knew what hardships were. They wanted to be sure that if I ever needed to make my own way, I’d know how to do it, so they insisted that I must learn to keep house.”
