Michael scrunched his nose. “Do I look like a Texas Ranger?”
“Just like a Texas Ranger,” Esther said with a sharp nod and a confident voice. “In fact, I think it is time we teach you how to ride a horse.”
Michael’s eyes just about popped. “You mean it?” he asked, his voice going to a high pitch. Esther smiled, loving the sparkle and joy written across his face.
“I sure do; I will have ol’ Lancelot saddled and ready to go when you get home, and I will teach you how to ride him by yourself.”
Michael threw his arms around Esther’s neck. “Oh, Momma, that is the best news ever. I can’t wait to ride Lancelot!” he exclaimed.
Esther squeezed her son and then just about tipped over with him when a deep voice startled her.
“How well trained is Lancelot?” the voice asked. Esther looked up to see Joseph Silver grinning down at them with his hands resting on his oversized belt buckle.
Typical cowboy, Esther thought, fighting to hide the annoyance. She did not like being taken by surprise, something that this Joseph was already beginning to make into a habit. Esther stood up and looked ahead: The children were entering the schoolroom and saying goodbye to their parents as Abby rang the bell. She placed a hand on Michael’s back to inch him forward, but the boy wouldn’t budge.
“What do you mean ‘trained’?” Michael asked, imitating Joseph’s stance.
“I mean, has he had multiple riders before?”
“Michael and I ride him together all the time.” Esther replied, steadily grabbing Michael’s hand and beginning to walk toward the schoolhouse. To her distress, Joseph fell along beside her with easy strides. Esther swallowed. He was much too close. The lace-lined sleeve of her dress brushed his arm and she could smell the scent of bacon and fresh soap emanating from his skin. She fought the tremble, but she could feel her breathing hasten.
“Well, does he only have you and Michael ride him? If so, he may be spooked easily when it is just Michael, and a spooked horse is a dangerous horse,” Joseph said with an experienced air. Esther slowed her steps to a stop and looked at him square in the eye.
“Are you trying to frighten Michael into not riding? Lancelot is a good horse, and I am a decent rider.” She held a smile, although her voice was firm. Joseph grinned and took a step forward. Esther gripped Michael’s hand so hard the poor boy flinched. Bacon, soap, firewood, and pine swallowed her as Joseph closed the already small gap between them.
“I am sure you are a very good rider,” he said slowly. Esther looked away and took a large step back.
“Thank you for your concern, but we will be fine.”
“I was just going to suggest that you use my horse, Sampson. That beast is as trained as a hunting dog. He is calm and is used to having multiple people on his back… alive or dead,” Joseph tried to joke. Michael laughed, but Esther gave no reaction. “Listen, it would be safer to have him ride my horse and honestly to have me teach him. I’m tall and could grab him off the horse should anything happen.”
Esther suddenly had an image of Michael being thrown off of Lancelot, who did spook easily, even if he was a gentle horse. She shifted uneasily, biting her bottom lip. Joseph smiled with a wink at Michael, knowing he had won.
“I can stay after school on Wednesday possibly. You could teach him then,” she suggested.
“Oh, no need for that. Michael would be tired right after school. I will come over on Wednesday evening.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “Maybe stay for dinner?”
Esther blinked several times before it registered what he had asked. He had invited himself over for dinner. Of all the nerve! Abby’s cooking may not be up to par, but that was no excuse to have the rudeness to invite oneself over for dinner.
Michael was thrilled. “That is a wonderful idea! I told you my mom cooks good. We can ride together and then eat together and then you can tell me stories about Texas and then—”
“You and Abby may come on Wednesday,” Esther said, emphasizing Abby’s name.
Joseph lifted his eyebrows with an arrogant smile. “Why of course.” He gave Michael another wink. “Hey Michael, you want a piggyback ride to class?”
Michael let out a whoop and ran to Joseph.
Esther held out her hand stopping Michael. “Wait,” she said sternly.
Joseph bowed his chin apologetically. “I am sorry. I should have asked. Do you mind if I give your son a piggyback ride?”
Michael grabbed his mother’s hand, jumping up and down. “Please Momma! It’s just a little ways off.”
Esther knew he was right. The schoolhouse was only a few yards away and Michael had put so much care into his dress in order to impress this Ranger. “Very well,” she said. Michael hugged her and then in one swift movement, Joseph swung Michael onto his back and began striding towards the schoolhouse.
“By the way, Michael,” Esther heard Joseph say, “your hat and buckle are pretty impressive—just like a Texas Ranger.”
Esther watched the two disappear into the schoolhouse, Michael’s laughter echoing in her ears. He certainly was infatuated with Joseph. She, however, did not like him or the situation one bit.
/
Will was still shaking with knuckles red and clenched hands burning from impact. A part of him wished he had knocked Toby Higgins harder—unconscious even. Most of the time Will was able to control himself around abusing, drinking, womanizing men, but Toby Higgins was at the bottom of the barrel. At least that is what he thought when he saw the very pregnant Mary Higgins hiding behind limp hair. Will had stopped her, asking to see her face. She had turned away, unable to hide the black and purple swollen eye, and Will had gone straight to the saloon. When he entered, the entire bar went silent. Not many pastors entered saloons. Then, when he’d noticed red-eyed, slobbering Toby, Will had rushed forward and taken him by the shirt.
“What kind of man hits his wife—his pregnant wife?” Will had shouted, grimacing as the smell of whiskey and sausage leaked from Toby. The disgusting man had sneered with a snort.
“A woman ought to know her place. If she don’t, then I will put her in it.”
At that point Will had lost control and punched Toby in the right eye: the same eye as Mary’s. He told Toby that for every bruise or cut he saw on Mary Higgins, Will would be sure to match it on Toby. Then without giving any of the staring faces a second glance, he had stormed off. Now he was a mixture of emotions as he rode his horse.
Will still felt anger, a violent anger, as well as guilt for not having done something to stop Mary from marrying Toby. Not that there was anything he could’ve done, but still as the pastor for Tall Pine, these people were each his responsibility, from the hard-working farmer to the drunken miner. He also felt ashamed for making a public scene. He was supposed to be a good example of someone who was gentle and forgiving.
I need to work, Will thought to himself. He needed to go to his little farm and plow and weed, cut and dig. Some hard physical labor and even harder prayer would do him good and hopefully subdue the anger coursing through him. But to his surprise, he found himself in front of the schoolhouse. He needed work, but what he wanted was laughter and humor. He wanted to see the gray-eyed schoolteacher get excited and hear her talk in her Texan accent. He wanted to tell Miss Abigail what happened and get her view on it, since she gave it so easily. But why?
Sure she was lovely and certainly not dull, but Will pictured his future companion as, well, someone fit to be a pastor’s wife: solemn and not so frilly or fancy. Even though Abigail had toned down her dressing, she still wore more laces and bows than most women. Even Esther who was known for her fine dressing didn’t fuss as much as Abby did with all her curls and ringlets. Just thinking about her appearance made Will smile. Before he knew what he was doing, he had lowered himself down from his saddle and was tying off his stallion.
As Will approached the schoolhouse he noticed two riding boots sticking out from underneath the steps accompanied by the echoing of
a hammer. He assumed it was Abby’s brother, Joseph. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The other day it had irked him when Joseph made the comment about the schoolhouse needing work. The school was Will’s responsibility, and it did need work, but Will, although great with anything from irrigation to seed planting and plowing, was not too good with a hammer and nail, and he resented being called out on it.
“You need help?” he asked gruffly. He didn’t want to be rude, but he didn’t have to talk like a honeycomb.
The hammering stopped and Joseph scooted out from under the building. He gave Will a quick appraising look before shaking his head.
“No, I’m done for the day. Abby is finishing up in there.” He nodded back at the schoolhouse and began wiping his hands with a rag from his pocket. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old is this schoolhouse?”
Will shook his head and let out a low whistle. “Old. I believe it was built right before the war broke out back East. I honestly don’t know why a new one hasn’t been built. This one is a hazard.”
“Ever ask the Mayor?” Joseph asked with an arched eyebrow.
Will shook his head. “You know, I’m still a new pastor—I haven’t gotten to that yet,” he smiled weakly.
Joseph’s hard demeanor softened. The man in front of him seemed young for a pastor and he probably made a lot of mistakes, and no doubt people let him know it. Joseph didn’t need to be one of those people.
“You look too young and strong for a pastor. It’s Will, right? Where are your fogged-up spectacles and gray beard?”
Will shrugged. “I ordered them last month. They must be on their way,” he joked. The two men gave each other a nod indicating a silent peace treaty. Then Joseph excused himself to go wash, and Will entered the schoolhouse.
Abby had her back turned pointing to a sentence in large print as the children slowly pronounced each word: “Pastor Will popped a pound of popcorn for the perfect piglets then picked poppies for Princess Poo Poo.”
The children all giggled when they finished the sentence and Will could tell that Abby was laughing from the shake of her shoulders. When she turned around and saw Will her face blanched and she dropped her wooden pointer. The children’s heads spun around to see Will and the laughter slowly dribbled away. Will tightened his lips to keep from smiling; instead, he narrowed his eyes, placed his hands behind his back, and walked up to the front.
“Class, I am afraid to say the reason why I am late today. Something came up that I had to do.” He paused, scanning the curious faces. “You see,” he continued, “I was out popping a pound of popcorn for the perfect piglets then I picked poppies for Princess Poo Poo.” He no longer could hold back a laugh after finishing the sentence, and the class erupted with giggles, Abby being one of the loudest. She approached him with bright red cheeks.
“Well, Pastor Will, thank you for joining us today.” She smiled brightly and then spun around to face the class, “Alright everyone, you all did so very well today that I am allowing a twenty minute surprise recess,” she announced. The class cheered and stampeded out of the class like a herd of buffalo. Abby nodded for Will to follow her. “I have to watch them. Two of the older boys, Jason and Matthew Tantum, have been causing a bit of trouble,” she said lightly.
Will frowned, “What kind of trouble?”
“Oh nothing drastic—they are only twelve after all. Mainly just some talk about gambling and drinking… things their father does. So they tell me.”
Will shook his head. “They live with their uncle who is a good man. Their father has a bit of troubles, including some you just mentioned. He loves his boys, but knows he is not fit to raise them. Still, he tries to be involved, but I don’t know if that’s good or bad. A boy will want to be like his father no matter what. Trust me on that.”
“Well, I’m not too worried. The other day I caught them smoking so I did a—not a very good thing.” Abby’s lips flickered with a smile.
Will tilted his head, now curious. “What did you do?”
“I talked to their uncle, told him of my idea first, of course. He complied and brought me two thick cigars. When I caught them smoking again, I took them behind the schoolhouse, gave them the cigars, and told them to smoke like men.” She grimaced, “Of course I had to clean up the vomit and then explain why they were too young to smoke, but at least both agreed that they never wanted to smoke a cigar again.”
Will blinked and then let out a rich laugh. “Oh my word, Miss Silver, you are a cunning and mischievous minx aren’t you?”
Abby shrugged, “I will take that as a compliment.”
Will shook his head. A few seconds of silence passed.
Abby gave him a thorough look before dusting off the small bench to sit on. “Are you like your father?” she asked.
Will shrugged. “I can’t say.”
“Well, was he intimidating, gruff, but also very funny?” she teased.
“Intimidating and gruff, yes, but not one humorous bone in his body,” Will laughed. He hardly remembered his father smiling let alone laughing.
“You must have inherited that from your mother,” Abby concluded. Did he also inherit his blue eyes from her?
“Maybe. I wouldn’t know. She died when I was young,” Will said, his voice void of emotion, but Abby caught the darkening of his eyes and decided to change the subject.
“Did you go into town today?” she asked and Will’s face turned distraught.
“I did and truth be told, maybe I should not have gone,” he mumbled, staring at his hands.
“Why not? What happened?” she asked, inching closer to him. Will sighed and leaned back, letting his hands rest on his knees.
“Do you know Toby Higgins? Mary Higgins?”
Abby scrunched up her face. “Ugh! How can I not? Odious man. I met him only once and he blatantly suggested we,” she coughed lightly, indicating words too sordid to speak, “and in front of his wife. I would be quite happy to never lay eyes on that man again,” she declared with a shiver. “I don’t know why that poor woman is with him.”
Will shrugged. “She’s always wanted Toby. Did whatever she could to get that carousing devil. She swore up and down that he loved her, even when he gave her only minimum attention. I think he finally realized that she would do anything for him and take anything from him. So he married her. It would make his life easier, and with her being the kind of woman she is, he has not had to give up any of his old life style.”
Abby nodded. Poor woman? Stupid woman? She didn’t know what to think about the whole situation other than it was unfortunate and sad.
“Did you encounter them today?” she asked softly. Will nodded and began to tell her the whole story, releasing it like a festered boil.
“I was an idiot for punching him. She chose to marry him, stood up for him; what business was it of mine to interfere? Plus, I am the pastor. I’m not supposed to do things like that,” he growled, more to himself than to Abby. He expected a kind pat or awkward silence from Abby. Instead he got a laugh. A small but definite laugh. He looked over at her to see her shaking her head.
“Really, Will? You feel bad about defending a woman’s honor, putting a man in his place, and showing those godless men at the bar that a true man of God can be strong and noble?” she chuckled and patted his hand. “Feel bad about how horrible you made my first day here,” she teased with a smile, “but don’t feel bad when you have done something right.”
Will gaped. Most women he assumed would disapprove of his outburst. Abby seemed to applaud it.
“But it was violent,” he said blankly.
“No, it was proactive. Listen Will, there are certainly times to turn the other cheek, to be calm and meek, but even Christ had to cleanse the temple by driving people out and turning over the tables in order to save the temple from further shame. What you did was very similar.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Don’t feel bad. I think you did the right thing.” Then with a reassuring smile, she turned to
check on the children. “Oh, by the way,” she looked over her shoulder at him, the sun illuminating her silky hair, “I named the kitten Killer.”
“Really? Why Killer?”
Abby chuckled. “It ran away when it saw a mouse. I am hoping that a barbarous name might instill it with a more audacious character.” She turned to go but added, “Perhaps I need to change my name to Fearless Abby. It might help.” She grinned.
Will smiled and continued sitting, watching Abby start a game with the children with a skill that should have taken years for her to acquire. He sat for several minutes with only the sound of birds and the muffled laughter of the children accompanying his thoughts. He felt surprisingly good—better at least. Somehow delicate, dramatic Abby had taken all the drama out of his problem and then presented it back to him in a logical and positive manner. And he believed her. She did not seem to be simply trying to make him feel better, but she genuinely thought he did the right thing. Where many women would have scorned his temper, she seemed to applaud how he’d used it. Will half smiled to himself. Abby was a surprise. In just a few months she was doing what most mountain bred teachers could not do. True, she had a rough start, but once she got the rhythm, she took to it like a fish to water.
Will stood up stretching his legs. He should go and participate in the game, but a new feeling was rising up in him. One he could not label. He felt confused about Abby, pleasantly confused but confused nonetheless. Why had he come to her when he was so upset? Why was she so easy to talk to? Somehow Will had poured out his whole story without inhibitions, knowing that there would be no judgment on her part. Despite Abby’s innocent manner, she was wise. And, she seemed to know more about God and human nature than Will did—even though God and people were supposed to be his job. He found himself eager to share his next sermon with her, get her opinion, tease her about something, and watch her eyes grow wide in astonishment.
Abby’s excited voice interrupted his thoughts. She was now leading the class back inside. No doubt she would be acting out some charade in order to demonstrate a lesson. He knew for sure he would not want to miss that display. Taking a moment to compose himself, Will walked in the schoolhouse to see Abby standing on her desk with a fake beard giving a speech by Abraham Lincoln.
Beneath the Heavens Page 13
