"I've told your father, but he thinks I'm just making threats again," she said. "However, this time I mean it. I am not crying wolf! When the mail wagon comes up the mountain again, I'm going back down with it!"
"What happened this time, Miss Elliot?" Wyn asked, making a sudden swipe for the twins. The mirror images obviously had anticipated just such a move, and they danced out of range, giggling wildly at Wyn's miss.
"What happened? What happened!?" Miss Elliot's voice rose higher with each word. "Besides Polly Cravet having her pigtail dipped into an inkwell and getting black ink smeared all over the brand new dress her mother had made her? And Polly crying her little heart out over it? Then there was the tack that Billy Peters sat on. Billy's such a sensitive child! I don't understand why these two like to pick on him."
Wyn started to say something, but she held up her hand in warning. "I'm not done. I sat them in the corner both times, with the dunce caps on their heads. I'll also have you know that this is the first school I've taught where I've needed two dunce caps! Plus, I have always thought that a teacher who couldn't control her class without physical punishment wasn't much of a teacher. However, your two hooligan brothers have just about changed my mind."
Sarah glanced down at the two hooligans, surprised to see them not a bit frightened or embarrassed that their teacher was tattling on their disobedience. Indeed, they appeared to be validating the teacher's complaints with their continued out-of-control behavior.
"Anyway," Miss Elliot continued, "the next thing I knew, there was a snake crawling around the room. Now, I am educated enough to know that snakes hibernate in the winter, so this had to be a pet snake someone kept. I assume you know without me having to put it into words where this snake came from, don't you, Mr. MacIntyre?"
"Swishy," Wyn said. "I suppose it had to be him. Where is he now?"
"He better be in Luke's lunchbox," Miss Elliot said with a huff.
One of the redheads raced off to the side of the room and returned, carrying a covered tin pail. The other redhead whooped and danced around him as his brother started to open the pail.
"Stop it." Sarah spoke very quietly. It may have been the contradiction of her stern, soft voice to the bedlam in the room, but a wave of silence swept across the atmosphere. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Gazing down her nose at the twin holding the tin pail with the lid hanging half off, she said, "I do not care for snakes. Therefore, I would prefer that you not open that pail if there is indeed a snake in it, whether or not it has the name of Swishy."
"Yes, ma'am," the little boy whispered, dropping the lid back into place and lowering his gaze at the same time. He stared at his toes, and his mirror image stood beside him with his mouth hanging open.
"Now," Sarah continued. "I assume you are Luke, since it's your lunch pail that contains Swishy." When he glanced up at her briefly and nodded, she pursed her lips and turned her gaze to the other child. Placing a fingertip beneath his chin, she closed his mouth. "And you are?" she asked.
"Jute. Uh . . . ma'am," he hurriedly added before she could frown at his lack of manners. "And I'd be honored to take you 'round and tell you everybody else's name, you figure you'd like me to do that."
"I would," Sarah confirmed. "But first I'd like both you and your brother to remove those boots in the house. They are extremely noisy, and it's warm enough in here for you not to need them."
"Yes, ma'am," they echoed each other. Plopping down, they started unlacing their footwear. Luke's elbow hit the lunch pail he'd dropped beside him when he sat, and it clattered across the floor, the lid flying loose. His eyes widened in horror with a small green snake slithered free, and he threw Sarah a terrified look.
"I'll . . . I'll get him, ma'am," he said. But he had one boot half off and couldn't seem to decide whether to jerk it free or pull it back on. The snake raised its head a tad and swiveled it around, then dropped back to the floor and started crawling.
Gray Boy flew out from under Dan's wheelchair, back arched and hissing as loud as a den full of snakes. The schoolteacher let out a scream, and Sarah heard Wyn stifle a chuckle beside her. She glanced sideways at him, a haughtiness stealing over her when she saw his grin of delight. He didn't make a move toward the snake and cat.
"You know," she mused in a voice she considered barely loud enough for him to hear. "I do believe the MacIntyre men are all cut from the same mold."
Giving a sniff, she walked across the floor and bent down. Swishy, evidently used to people, paused and swiveled his head to look at her. First swiping Gray Boy aside, Sarah then reached out and placed her index finger and thumb on each side of the snake's head. Lifting him to dangle in the air, she raised her eyebrows at Luke.
Jute scrambled to his feet first. Swiping up the tin pail, he raced over to Sarah and held it out. She gratefully realized he had removed his boots and his steps were almost silent in his stocking feet. Delicately, she held Swishy over the pail and laid him inside.
"The lid," she reminded Jute, who stared wildly around until he saw it lying behind Luke. A second later, Swishy was safely penned up again.
"Now," Sarah said, dusting her hands together. "Introduce me around, Jute."
Taking her hand, Jute said. "Yes, ma'am, I will. But you ain't tol' me yet just who you be."
"Forgive me. I'm Sarah Channing. I'm the lady who brought your cousin Mairi back to Sawback Mountain."
"Gee!" Jute's eyes widened in awe. "Then you must be one of the nicest ladies on earth. We's mighty glad to have Mairi. We's sad about Uncle Cal and Aunt Selene, but leastwise we's got Mairi back. I don't 'member my aunt and uncle real well, but I do recall Mairi."
"I'm very glad that you are glad, Jute. Now, the introductions?"
Jute gripped her hand tightly as he led her over to the teen-aged girl in the corner first. "This is my sister Carrie," he said. "She's purty nice, but she's more interested in finding someone to hitch up with right now, since she's been fourteen for nigh onto six months."
Carrie nodded and smiled shyly at Sarah.
"Carrie," Sarah responded, wondering what "hitch up" meant. She couldn't imagine this slender girl pulling a buggy or a plow. "I would think perhaps you ought to be over there helping your other sister cook, given her advanced state of being with child. Shouldn't you? I would think playing the whatever it is you have there could wait until after we eat."
Surprise filled Carrie's eyes, but she stood up at once. "This is a dulcimer," she said, indicating the instrument in her hand. "And I guess I really oughta be helping Sissy."
She hurried across the room, and Sarah heard a faint grunt behind her. Slipping a look, she saw that Wyn had followed and thought perhaps she saw a measure of respect on his face. Jute pulled on her hand again, however, and led her over to Dan.
"Guess you already knows my Pa and Mairi, since Pa and Wyn was both at the store when you come today," Jute said, and Sarah acknowledged that with a nod. "This here's my other sister, Pris. She's eight, and her and Mairi is both of the same age."
"Pris," Sarah said. "And hello again, Mairi. You know, I'll bet Pris would like you to show her how we set the table at my house, Mairi. Whatever's cooking over there smells almost ready, and I don't see a plate or piece of silverware on the table over there."
"Yes, ma'am," Mairi said with a wide grin. She slid from Dan's lap, then threw her arms around Sarah's waist. After a brief hug, she took Pris's hand and the two girls crossed the room.
Dan slowly bobbed his head up and down. "Nice work, Sarah," he said.
"Thank you, Dan."
Jute took her over to the stove next, and Wyn's footsteps continued to follow. She even caught a hint of some masculine odor that she realized had been tugging at her senses for quite a while. It smelled like the cold air from outside had followed them in here, tinged with a hint of bayberry. Then she told herself it had to be the candles burning around the room, adding to the lantern light.
"This here's Sissy," Jute
said, breaking into her thoughts.
Sissy turned, with the little boy on her hip. Sarah cast one telling glance at Carrie, and the teenager reached out quickly to relieve Sissy of the little boy. Sissy's brows went up in astonishment, then she smiled widely at Sarah.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Channing," she said. She glanced at Carrie holding her son. "Very, very pleased to meet you. My son's name is Bobbie."
"And she's gonna have another one," Jute said in an awestruck voice. He tentatively reached out a grubby finger and touched Sissy's extended stomach. At a movement beneath her apron, he jerked his hand back, then clapped both hands together. "Ain't that just sumpthin'?"
"It most surely is, Jute," Sarah told him with a sincere smile, although the heat of a blush covered her cheeks at the child's candor. When Sissy reached for her hand to lay it across her stomach, Sarah resisted, but only for a second. She'd never been this close to such an imminent birth, and she honestly admitted a desire to feel the babe move. All of her friends disappeared from the social scene as soon as their rounded stomachs couldn't be hidden by the folds of whatever fashion carried the season. The next time she saw them, they usually had their figures back.
Sissy held Sarah's hand flat against her rounded stomach, and Sarah felt a ripple of movement. Then something struck against her palm, and Sarah gasped. Her eyes flew to Sissy's, and the serenity in the other woman's eyes curled all the way down to her own stomach. Her stomach, or perhaps it was that place a little lower, felt very empty.
She heard that little chuckle beside her again, and Sarah's face heated anew. Wyn reached around her and laid his large, work-roughened hand on Sissy's mounded stomach, right beside hers. For a long, tender instant, Sarah gazed at the three hands lying on the mound sheltering what would one day be a living, breathing baby, then a child, then an adult. But try as she might, she couldn't fight off the embarrassment the honest, open portrayal caused her. Jerking free, she stepped back.
"Um . . . when . . . when is your confinement?" she asked Sissy.
"Confinement?" Sissy asked. "Oh, you mean when am I due to birth this one? Well, it was last week, but as you can see, no one told the babe about that."
For some reason, Sarah's mouth went dry. She had absolutely no tie to this birth. Why should she be worried about being in the vicinity of an over-due babe?
"And I sort of think I've got maybe another week yet," Sissy went on. "Think we might have miscalculated. Babes usually calm down and stop moving so much when they're gettin' ready to get born, and this one's still keeping me up nights. Robert should be back by the time the storm's over, so I'm hopin' the birthin' waits for him."
"Robert?" Sarah asked.
"My husband. He went up to West Virginie a couple weeks ago, 'cause he heard the mines was a'hiring. I ain't heard back from him, and he'd have sent me a letter if he got the job. Then I'd wait till he had enough money to send for me. But since I haven't got a letter, I figure he's on his way back."
While she had heard and understood everything Sissy said, Sarah continued staring at Sissy's stomach. Wyn's large hand still lay there, and his index finger stroked back and forth. Sissy tolerated the touch without a trace of embarrassment.
"Hey!" Wyn said. "Bet that's his head."
"Her!" Sissy said in a mock stern voice, as though this were a continuing argument. "Leery promised me it was a girl this time."
"Well, if Leery says girl, it's probably a girl," Wyn responded. He finally removed his hand and took Sarah's arm. "Lute didn't introduce you to Miss Elliot. He probably figured his teacher was still so mad at him, she'd stick him in the corner again."
"Do you think I could remove my cloak first?" Sarah asked.
Wyn dropped her arm rather quickly, and she started to turn around for him to assist her with her cloak. But for some reason her gaze caught on his, and she noticed a puzzled look in the blue eyes. He lowered his eyes to his palm, then to her arm.
"Did a burr or something on my cloak stick your palm?" she questioned, vocalizing the only conclusion that came to mind from his action.
Wyn stared back into her face, slowly shaking his head. "No, nothing like that," he said quietly.
He was so close his breath feathered across her cheek, raising a cascade of Goosebumps, which even skittered down her shoulder. She'd been this close — even closer — to Stephen without her body reacting in this way. Jerking her gaze free, she unclasped the button on her cloak. From the corner of her eye, she saw Wyn take hold of the cloak using only his forefinger and thumb. Still, the back of one hand brushed her chin, and he pulled the cloak free in a rush.
Deciding she could introduce herself to the schoolteacher, Sarah strode across the room while Wyn hung up the cloak.
Chapter 3
Leaving Mandy and Miss Elliot in the corner of the room, where they were leafing through the Montgomery Wards catalog, Wyn carried a chair from the table over beside Dan. Settling into it, he crossed his arms and frowned at the unusual atmosphere in the room. "Ordered chaos" came to mind, followed quickly by a remembrance of his mother.
His mother had somehow kept order and managed to get the multitude of chores that filled each day accomplished without yelling or becoming perturbed at the high spirits of her children. Since his return, Wyn now realized, the loving discipline had been missing, with the children becoming more and more out of control. He and his pa had evidently assumed Sissy would manage her brothers and sisters, forgetting Sissy had her own family to worry about. He supposed he really couldn't blame Prudence Elliot for resigning.
Neither the schoolteacher nor his sister had ever managed the rowdy twins as easily as Sarah. Part of that probably came from Sarah's handling Swishy the snake so well. Her dislike of the snake was plain, but she had shown no sign of fear. If she had, Luke and Jute would have used the snake to tease her unmercifully.
Dan took his pipe from his shirt pocket, then called, "Sarah. Do you mind the smoke?"
"I appreciate the smell of a good tobacco," Sarah replied, then turned back to directing the children.
Since the table was now set, she sent the twins and the two younger girls to the basin of water in a corner, telling the girls to be sure all four sets of hands were clean for the meal. When Bobbie began whimpering in Carrie's arms and Sissy automatically reached for him, Sarah shook her head.
"Find him something to play with," she ordered Carrie. "You can entertain him while your sister and I get the food on the table."
Carrie headed for her dulcimer, which she'd left in the corner of the room. When she picked it up, Sarah called, "Something soft and soothing would be appropriate, Carrie."
"I never heard you ask permission to smoke in your own house, Pa," Wyn said rather disgruntledly.
Dan answered with a shrug that told Wyn absolutely nothing, then drew on his pipe again. The scent of the vanilla-flavored tobacco Dan preferred drifted to Wyn's nose, intermingled with the smell of fresh-baked bread and venison stew. With a fire going in both the fireplace and the stove, the loft area was adequately warmed. After supper, he'd open the doors on the bedrooms lining the far wall, taking some of the chill off the rooms before they crawled into bed.
He continued to frown as Sarah ignored another ritual Wyn had come to expect of the evenings. Instead of filling the plates at the stove, she and Sissy carried two large bowls of stew to the table, placing ladles in them. Now there would be the added strain of worrying about the twins dropping the bowls as they were passed around the table, Wyn silently fumed. Sarah had no idea what was the easiest way to manage meals for this large family. She was used to servants at the beck and call of each guest seated in a high-back chair.
"I believe I'll go to the table myself tonight," Dan mused, glancing at Wyn. "That is, if you don't mind putting me back in my wheelchair."
"'Course not, Pa," Wyn replied. "But are you sure you want to suffer through the turmoil we usually have? You've preferred your meals on a tray here by the fireplace recently."
An enigmatic smile crawled over Dan's face. "I've missed having meals with my entire family gathered at the table, son. And I doubt the turmoil will be nearly as bad tonight."
And it wasn't, Wyn realized a while later, although for some reason he still couldn't shake his annoyance at the altered routine. Sissy announced the meal ready about the time Wyn got his father transferred to his wheelchair. Wyn watched his family and guests file to the table as he pushed his pa up to it.
Prudence Elliot, as always when she ate with them, ignored the others as she took a seat across from one of the large bowls of stew. Mandy helped Carrie put Bobbie in the high chair and the two of them settled on either side of the child. Waving away Sissy's thanks, Mandy began feeding Bobbie, leaving Sissy to at least enjoy this one meal.
The twins scrambled to the same chair, each trying to shove the other one away. Sarah just stood there looking at them, not saying a word, and their struggles turned feeble. Finally they both glanced sheepishly at Sarah. To Wyn's absolute amazement, since he had no idea the twins had ever seen such a thing, they both pulled out a chair for Sarah. They stood behind it until she settled herself, then climbed into the chairs on either side of her.
As soon as his sisters and Mairi took their places, Wyn sat down across from his father, Sarah and the twins. Immediately Lute grabbed for a piece of cornbread on the stack in front of him. Sarah's calm voice halted his hand an inch from its target.
"Jute, whose night is it to say the blessing?"
The twin glanced up at her in awe. "How'd you start being able to tell me 'n Luke apart so quick?"
Sarah actually winked at him, a characteristic Wyn hadn't associated with the woman so far.
"That's my secret for now," Sarah said. "Now, the blessing?"
"Sayin' the blessin's a man's job," Jute said. "I'll do it."
"Nah, I'm five minutes older'n you," Luke said. "I'll say it." He ducked his head, and clasped his hands, while the rest of the people at the table followed suit. "Good food, good meat. Good Lord, let's eat!"
Tennessee Waltz Page 4
