Belonging

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Mr. Jacobson—”

  “Call me Oscar.”

  “I’m older than you. I have children.”

  “Five years isn’t that much, and I’d love your girls as if they were my own.”

  “Where would we live? You’re a cowboy on the Double G. There’s no place for a family there.”

  “I’ve got land of my own, a small but solid house on it, and the start of a good herd of cattle. You wouldn’t do without, nor would your girls.”

  He owned land and cattle? He had a house?

  “It’s not all that far from town. You’d be able to see your friends when you wanted. Suzanne and Phoebe could see their grandparents regular like.”

  “Oscar, you hardly know me.”

  “You’re wrong there. I know you enough to love you.”

  He loved her? Her mind tried to continue to argue. How could he know that for sure? And they’d lived such different lives up to now. And yet … and yet her heart believed him. Believed he loved her. Believed he knew her. Believed she loved him too.

  “Will you marry me, Kathleen?”

  Her mother-in-law would tell her she was crazy, downright insane. Mother Summerville would never approve. She would say Oscar was a nobody, a cowpoke, a man without proper breeding or upbringing, unsuitable to be a stepfather to her granddaughters. Helen wouldn’t care that he made Kathleen happy whenever she was with him. But Kathleen cared.

  “Will you?”

  “Yes,” she answered, feeling breathless.

  That crooked, wonderful grin of his appeared. “When?”

  “When? Well, I don’t know. We’ll need to make plans. And Mother Summerville—” She felt a sinking sensation.

  “Let’s go into Boise City tomorrow. Just you and me. We’ll get married and tell everybody after.”

  “Elope? Oh, Oscar. Do you think we should?”

  “Yeah, I think we should.”

  It really was quite crazy. But if this was insanity, then she planned to enjoy every moment of it. “Let’s do it.”

  Colin stood with a number of area farmers. Their discussions had roamed from this year’s harvest to the mild temperatures and lack of lightning storms in August and September to the Klondike gold rush. But when the topic switched to politics and President McKinley, Colin excused himself and walked toward the refreshment tables.

  As he skirted the dancers, he saw Kathleen reentering the barn on the arm of one of the men who worked for Glen Gilchrist. She looked as if she was enjoying herself. He was glad. He’d hurt her feelings a week ago, and that hadn’t set well with him, even if all he’d done was speak the truth.

  Arriving at the refreshment tables, he found Ellen standing behind one of them, visiting with Martha Daughtry, while Felicia stood behind the other, cutting slices of a white-frosted cake. A number of children of varying ages sat on nearby bales of straw, enjoying cake and punch.

  “I think I’d like a piece of that cake,” he said as he stopped opposite Felicia.

  Her cheeks pinkened, and he liked thinking he was the reason. She lifted a plate and held it toward him, at the same time lifting her gaze to meet his. She was without a doubt the prettiest woman at the festivities. A man could drown in those eyes, and he was willing to be the one to do so.

  “Would you care to dance again, Felicia?”

  The color in her cheeks deepened. “You can’t dance with cake in your hand, Mr. Murphy.”

  “I’ll eat it later.” He set the plate back on the table. “Do you think you could call me Colin?”

  She looked beyond him, her gaze sweeping the barn, and he wondered what—or rather who—she wanted to find. Maybe there was a different reason for her blush. Maybe she wished it was someone else who’d asked her to dance.

  Now there was an emotion he couldn’t recall feeling before: jealousy. Foreign it might be to him, but he recognized it all the same.

  He held his hand toward her. “May I have this dance, Miss Kristoffersen?” He saw “No” in her eyes, but before she could refuse him, she was interrupted.

  “Go on, Felicia.” Ellen gave Felicia’s shoulder a slight push. “Go dance and enjoy yourself. I can manage here without you.”

  “But I—”

  “Go on. I’d be doing the same if I wasn’t married to a man with two left feet.”

  Colin chuckled. “It’s true. Randall can’t dance a lick.” He took hold of Felicia’s hand and drew her out from behind the table.

  “But I can’t dance either, Mr. Murphy. Not really. You know that.”

  “Call me Colin.”

  “We’ve already danced once. It wouldn’t be—”

  “Please.” He took her into his arms, and they began to turn in time to the music.

  A sea of emotions swirled in her eyes, eyes that remained locked with his. What was it he saw in them? Confusion? Hope? Fear? Trust? Dread?

  Could he hope for something more?

  Something lasting?

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Why did I dance with Colin a second time? Knowing what Mrs. Summerville thinks of me, why did I do it? Once was bad enough. Such a foolish thing to do it a second time. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

  Clutching her Bible and pocketbook close to her chest, Felicia walked hurriedly toward the church the morning after the barn dance. She’d slept little the previous night, and she was certain it showed in the circles beneath her eyes. And now, on top of everything else, she was going to be late to Sunday service.

  Why did I listen to Ellen? I should have said no. Why was I so weak? It should have been Kathleen dancing with him.

  But Kathleen had been nowhere in sight. And besides, Felicia had enjoyed those brief minutes in his arms with the music playing. They had been magical … mostly. But confusing too. Utterly confusing.

  Even if he was a free man—which he wasn’t—she wouldn’t be interested in more than friendship. She wanted to teach. She wanted to be the mistress of her own future. She wasn’t willing to set her hopes and dreams aside. Not for any reason. Certainly not for any man.

  But Colin wasn’t just “any” man, was he?

  A groan escaped her lips.

  Arriving at the church, she dashed up the steps and into the narthex. It was empty, the congregation already seated in the sanctuary. Trying to calm her breathing, she moved into the larger room and took the first empty seat, next to the Carpenter family. She purposefully kept her gaze directed toward the pulpit and Reverend Hightower. She didn’t want to risk making eye contact with Colin or Kathleen or Helen or anyone else. Not until she felt composed and under control of her confused emotions.

  The organist played the opening chords, and the congregation rose to its feet to sing “Nearer, My God, to Thee". Felicia closed her eyes and let the lyrics rise from her heart, knowing that as she let go of her earthly cares, she would hear the Lord’s voice with more clarity. And she wanted to hear His voice this morning. She needed Him to make sense of things. Things that, in the limitations of her human mind, made no sense to her at all.

  By the time the congregation settled back onto the wooden pews, Felicia felt calmer. Calm enough that she could listen to the reading of the Scripture and take comfort in God’s Holy Word. Calm enough that she could listen to Reverend Hightower’s sermon and glean wisdom from it. Calm enough that when the service ended, she could rise and turn and face whatever came next.

  Colin was about to stand when Walter Swanson slid into the pew beside him. “We need to talk.”

  Colin lifted his eyebrows in question.

  Lowering his voice, Walter said, “Mrs. Summerville’s got a bee in her bonnet over somethin’. Says there’s a matter of grave importance for the school board to take up. Wants a meeting tonight. Just the board. You know, a closed meeting. She won’t be put off. Lord knows I tried.”

  Colin felt like swearing. He didn’t have to guess what this was about. He already knew. Helen Summerville was following through on her promise to call for Felicia’s dismissal. As he should ha
ve expected. She wasn’t the sort to make idle threats. Still, he’d thought he had a little time to make some changes that might satisfy the woman. Apparently, he’d thought wrong.

  “Can you be at the schoolhouse tonight at seven?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good.” Walter slapped him on the back, his expression brightening, as if sharing the news with Colin had lifted the burden from his shoulders. “Great night at the Dowds’, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Great night.” He swept his gaze over the dispersing churchgoers, looking for Felicia, wondering if anyone had told her the news about the meeting yet.

  He would put a stop to this. He had to put a stop to it. He wasn’t about to let Helen Summerville ruin Felicia’s life. Especially if he was the cause of it. He thought back over Helen’s visit to him at the mercantile. If he’d kept his temper, maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

  Silently, he said a quick prayer for God to help him. Then he stood and moved out of the pew, flowing with the last members of the congregation through the double doors and down the steps into the crisp October morning air. That’s when he saw Felicia, talking to Jane and Lewis Carpenter. She didn’t look upset. She must not know. He wished he could leave it that way, but he couldn’t. She glanced in his direction. He drew a breath and moved to join her.

  He exchanged a few pleasantries with the Carpenters, but as soon as they walked away, there was no excuse not to come straight out with it. “Mrs. Summerville’s called a school board meeting for tonight.”

  Felicia’s face paled. “She’s going to demand my resignation, isn’t she?”

  “This is my fault, Felicia.”

  “It isn’t your fault. I … I shouldn’t have danced with you.”

  He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “Is that what you think this is about?” He shook his head. “It isn’t. It’s about the evenings you’ve spent at my place.”

  “The evenings? Do you mean when I’ve been tutoring Charity? There was nothing improper about that.”

  “We were seen together. Last week. The night I walked you to your door.” He drew a slow breath. “You remember.”

  “Oh.” The word came out on a breath of air. “That night.”

  “It’s my fault,” he said again.

  “No.” She took a step back from him, straightened her shoulders, tilted her chin. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m a grown woman. I must take responsibility for my actions.”

  “But—”

  “What time is the meeting?”

  “Seven. But Walter said it was a closed meeting. Only the board members will be there.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m not to have an opportunity to defend myself?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “But that’s unfair.”

  “I know.” He wanted to draw her into his arms and hold her close, but this wasn’t the time or place for that. Not if he wanted to stop the rumors Helen was determined to start. “I’ll do everything I can.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice broke. “Please excuse me, Mr. Murphy.” Then she turned and hurried away.

  Kathleen stopped the buggy in front of the restaurant in Boise.

  Am I doing this? Am I really getting married? What if—

  Oscar stepped through the doors of the restaurant. He wore a dark suit, and for an instant, she wondered if it was him. He looked so businesslike, so confident—not to mention so handsome. She’d never seen him in anything but Levi’s and long-sleeved shirts. But then he grinned, and she had her answer. It was him. He was here. And they were going to get married today.

  He tied the horse to the hitching rail, then came to the side of the buggy and offered a hand to help her to the ground. “You look mighty pretty, Kathleen.”

  “And you look quite handsome.”

  “What did you tell Miz Summerville?”

  “That I’m meeting a friend in Boise and will return on Tuesday afternoon.”

  “A friend, eh?”

  “It isn’t a lie.”

  He lifted the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it. “No, I reckon it isn’t a lie, but it’s not quite the truth neither.”

  “I know. But Mother Summerville has been in a foul temper for the last few days, and I didn’t want to argue with her or have her forbid me to use the buggy. When we return on Tuesday, I’ll tell her everything.”

  “And your girls?”

  “I couldn’t tell them either. They might have let something slip. But they’re going to love you, Oscar, just as I do.” She felt almost giddy with joy when she said those words.

  “I’ll be a good pa to them, Kathleen. I promise.”

  “I know you will.” She wasn’t certain how she knew it was true. She simply knew.

  He motioned with his head toward the restaurant. “Let’s go inside and get something to eat. I’ve arranged for us to meet the minister at the church at two o’clock. We’ve got ourselves a bit of a wait.”

  The time couldn’t possibly pass fast enough to suit Kathleen.

  TWENTY-NINE

  At 6:40 on Sunday evening, Colin rapped his knuckles on the doorjamb of the cottage. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Felicia. She wore a gray dress that made her look wan. Or perhaps she would have looked that way regardless of the color of her gown.

  “Miss Kristoffersen,” he said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind doing some reading with Charity, even though it’s the Lord’s Day. And I reckon it would be better for her to come to you from now on.”

  Understanding in her eyes, she nodded. “Come on in, Charity.” She held open the screen door.

  “Papa’s got a meeting at the school,” his daughter informed her teacher.

  “Yes, I know.” Felicia looked at Colin again.

  It had been a long, tense day for him. He could only imagine what it had been like for her.

  “I suppose you’ll bring word to me of what’s decided,” she said.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Charity can stay with me until the meeting is over.”

  “Appreciate it.” He longed to say something more, something that would encourage her and remove the sadness in her eyes and the tension around her mouth. But he didn’t know what words would do that.

  “Thank you, Mr. Murphy, for whatever you can do.”

  Whatever he could do.

  Maybe if he’d thought about that beforehand, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. If he’d never wanted to kiss her. If he’d tried to smooth things over with Mrs. Summerville when she’d come to see him at the mercantile on Friday. If he’d immediately spoken with Felicia about the location of the tutoring sessions. If he hadn’t wanted to dance with her last night. Her and only her.

  He nodded, turned, and headed off in the direction of the school.

  Despite being a good ten minutes early, he wasn’t the first board member to arrive. Helen and Walter were there before him.

  “Evenin’, Colin,” Walter greeted him.

  Helen didn’t bother to turn to look in his direction. If she had, he suspected she would have sniffed, as if something didn’t smell right in the room.

  He knew the feeling.

  Walter checked his pocket watch. “The rest of ‘em should be along soon.”

  “I reckon.” Colin sat in a desk midway up the first row.

  No doubt picking up on the tension between Helen and Colin, Walter began pacing the length of the raised platform at the front of the classroom. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when more voices announced the arrival of the remainder of the board.

  Daisi Benoit was the first to enter, followed by Miranda Reynolds, Benjamin Hightower, Yancy Dowd, and Gary Peters.

  “Good. Good.” Walter wiped away a sheen of perspiration on his forehead with a handkerchief. “You’re all here. We can start then.”

  The two other women took seats near Helen at the front of the classroom. The men sat in desks closer to Colin.

  Yancy said, “Why don’t you tell
us what this is about, Walter?”

  The school board president looked at Helen. “Mrs. Summerville?”

  She stood and faced the others, her eyes avoiding Colin. “I’m afraid something quite disturbing has come to my attention. It involves our new schoolmarm.”

  A murmur of concern was heard from Daisi and Miranda. The men were silent.

  “Miss Kristoffersen has been seen frequently coming and going in the evenings from the home of … Mr. Murphy.”

  All eyes turned on him. He pressed his lips together, determined to quell his rising anger.

  “And they were seen embracing in the dark outside of her home just last week by a friend of mine who happened by. Naturally, my friend told me, and I took my concerns to Mr. Murphy at once. His response, I’m sorry to say, was unsatisfactory. As anyone with eyes could see on Saturday night, Mr. Murphy and Miss Kristoffersen have developed a certain … affection for one another. An affection that has led to inappropriate behavior and—”

  Heat rising up his neck, Colin stood. “Affection between two people isn’t against the law, the last I heard.”

  At last, she looked at him. “You disappoint me, Mr. Murphy. I always believed you to be a moral and upright man.”

  “I like to think I am, ma’am.”

  “If you were, you would understand my concern.”

  “Look. Miss Kristoffersen has been helping Charity with her reading lessons. My daughter’s struggled with reading ever since she started school. Nobody’s been able to make it easier for her until now. But Miss Kristoffersen thought some individual tutoring would help her catch up with other children her age. That’s why she’s been coming to my place in the evenings. It’s working too.”

  “Late at night? In your home without a chaperone?” Amazing how Helen could make tutoring sessions sound dirty and disgraceful.

  “It wasn’t late. Miss Kristoffersen and Charity study at the kitchen table from seven o’clock until about seven-thirty. Never later than eight. And while they study, I’m in the living room or working in my office in the store. How is that improper? How can that disturb anyone?”