The Gift of Twins

by Gabrielle Meyer

  Annabeth lifted her nose and walked to the chalkboard, stomping her feet all the way. She picked up a piece of chalk and scratched each word onto the board with deliberate strokes, causing the chalk to squeak in protest.

  Emmy slowly sat in her chair and looked back at the younger students. Levi and Zeb stood quietly, their eyes fixed on Emmy’s face, though Levi glanced at Annabeth from time to time.

  “Now, where were we?” Emmy asked.

  The door opened and a gentleman entered the schoolhouse with a gust of wind.

  “What now?” Emmy asked under her breath, rising from her desk once again. “May I help you?”

  The man took off his hat and clutched it in his hands, looking left and right at the students as he tentatively walked down the aisle between the desks. “Are you Miss Wilkes?” he asked as he stopped at her desk.

  “I am.”

  He swallowed hard and turned his hat around in his hands. “I came to speak with you.”

  Emmy frowned. “Do you have a student you’d like to enroll?”

  “No.” He leaned forward, his greasy hair falling over his forehead, and lowered his voice. “This here is a personal matter.”

  Annabeth stopped writing and stared openly at the man while all the other children listened in.

  “I’m sorry, but if you’re not here on school business, you’ll need to leave,” Emmy said.

  “But this can’t wait. If I don’t talk to you now, some other fella will swoop in and stake his claim.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Emmy came around the desk to show him to the door. “I have a school to run and I need you to leave.”

  “Will you allow me to call on you at the Hubbard home?”

  Emmy walked with determined steps into the cloakroom and to the door.

  “Miss Wilkes.” He followed her. “Did you hear me?”

  She opened the door. “I most certainly did, and I am not interested—”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Samuelson stood on the stoop outside the door, his hand raised as if he had just reached for the doorknob. He looked between the strange man and Emmy.

  Emmy’s stomach dropped and she grappled for an explanation. “I was just showing this gentleman out.”

  “What is he doing here?” Mr. Samuelson demanded.

  “I came to see if Miss Wilkes will let me call on her, but she hasn’t given me an answer.” The man looked at Emmy with great interest. “What do you say?”

  Mr. Samuelson crossed his arms, his face turning red. “Well?” he asked. “What do you say, Miss Wilkes?”

  “I’ve never met this man in my life,” Emmy said to her superintendent. “I have no interest in accepting his invitation and I’d prefer if he left.”

  The man straightened his shoulders and shoved his hat back on. “I guess the lady has spoken.”

  Emmy lifted her chin. “Please do not return.”

  He stepped between her and Mr. Samuelson and walked out of the schoolhouse without a backward glance.

  Mr. Samuelson stared at Emmy. “Please put on your wraps and come outside with me. I’d like to speak to you.”

  Emmy let out a sigh as she grabbed her wraps and then poked her head back into the classroom. “Greta Merchant, will you please watch over the classroom while I’m speaking with Mr. Samuelson?”

  Greta stood and nodded. “Yes, Miss Wilkes.”

  Annabeth gave Emmy a smug look at the front of the class, but Emmy chose to ignore the girl as she pulled on her mittens and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

  “How many men have come to the school like this?” Mr. Samuelson asked without waiting for her to explain herself.

  “None. Like I said, I don’t know—”

  “Do you think it’s proper to have men calling on you at the school?”

  “Of course not—”

  “I knew it was a mistake to keep you on. I should have gone with my first instinct and sent you back east.”

  “Please, Mr. Samuelson, listen to—”

  “You leave me no choice but to start seeking another teacher to replace you.”

  Ben appeared at the edge of the school yard, his curious gaze latched on Emmy and Mr. Samuelson. “Is everything all right?”

  “It is not.” Mr. Samuelson shared the scene he’d just witnessed a moment ago. “I shouldn’t have listened to you, Pastor Lahaye. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I caught her in an inappropriate situation—but I never thought it would be at the school.”

  Indignation rose in Emmy’s chest. “I did not invite that man into the school!”

  “You need to see reason,” Ben said to Mr. Samuelson, his voice calm. “Miss Wilkes is not to blame.”

  “If she was a man, this would not have happened.”

  Ben chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, but that’s not her fault.”

  Mr. Samuelson straightened his shoulders, his jaw tight. “I can see it’s impossible to discuss Miss Wilkes with you. I will bring up this matter at the next school board meeting.” He spoke the words with finality. “I must get back to my store, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s time to release the children for recess.”

  Emmy looked at her pocket watch, trying to calm the turmoil she felt in her gut. If she wasn’t careful, she might say something she’d regret—but one look at Ben’s gentle countenance and her emotions began to settle. “I made a promise to you and the school, and I intend to keep it.”

  Mr. Samuelson acted as if he didn’t hear her. He gave her a curt nod and then strode away.

  Ben shook his head. “That man has a knack for finding fault. I’m just sorry he’s directed that particular talent on you.”

  Despite her frustration, she smiled. “I am, too.” Her smile faded and she wrapped her arms around her body for warmth. “I thought I was safe from amorous men here at the school—but it doesn’t look like I’m safe anywhere.”

  “That’s actually why I’m here.” Ben looked down and readjusted his footing, clearly uncomfortable with his mission. “I thought I could speak privately with you during recess. I can wait until you release the children.”

  “My whole day has been disrupted. The children can wait a few more moments if you’d like to speak now.”

  He met her gaze, uncertainty in his dark brown eyes. “My friend Mrs. Cooper made a suggestion that I thought I’d share with you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Since I have a housekeeper now, Charlotte thought you might be inclined to leave the Hubbards and board at my house.” He went on quickly. “You’d have to share a room with Mrs. Carver on the second floor, but it’s a big room, with plenty of space for your trunks. I could put a desk in there, and you could study to your heart’s content each evening.”

  The thought of having more privacy to study made her want to cry in happiness—but then she paused. “Would it be seemly?”

  “Charlotte assures me it would. With Mrs. Carver as a chaperone, no one would raise an eyebrow.”

  Emmy nibbled her bottom lip. Even if people did think twice about the arrangement, she couldn’t deny its appeal. “I will accept.”

  He blinked twice before responding. “You will?”

  “When shall I move in?”

  “As soon as you’d like.”

  She reached out and shook his hand. “I will move my things immediately after school.”

  Ben’s smile was wide and charming. “I’ll be over to help.”

  A flutter filled her stomach at that handsome smile, but she pushed the silly notion aside and started to look forward to a quiet house after five days of chaos at the Hubbards’.

  Chapter Six

  Ben pushed the last trunk against the wall of the room Mrs. Carver and Emm
y would share and stepped out into the hall. He wanted to make sure Emmy had everything she’d need to do her work and be comfortable with them, so he’d brought in a desk he usually kept in his front room and placed it near the window. After supper, he’d be sure to help Mrs. Carver clean the kitchen, giving Emmy plenty of time to study.

  Laughter and conversation filtered up the stairs and he paused a moment to appreciate the sound. Not only were Mrs. Carver and Emmy getting along, but the boys were also joining in on the fun. He shook his head at the sound of one of the boys laughing. It did his heart good to know this little band of people who were in need of family for one reason or another had found each other. He could hardly believe that just a week ago, his house was quiet and empty.

  Ben walked down the stairs, across the front room and into the kitchen where they were getting supper on the table. Mrs. Carver was a jolly old woman, almost as wide as she was tall. She had dark gray hair and kind blue eyes, which sparkled when she spoke. Life had thrown her more than her share of heartache, but she was resilient and faithful, and had always been one of Ben’s favorite parishioners.

  “Set the mashed potatoes over there, dearie,” Mrs. Carver said to Emmy. “Right next to my chair.” She laughed and the others laughed along, which made Ben suspect he’d missed out on a joke.

  Zeb looked at Ben from where he was placing forks at the table and grinned. “Mrs. Carver says that potatoes help her keep her girlish finger.”

  Emmy and Mrs. Carver laughed, and Ben couldn’t help but chuckle with them.

  “Figure.” Mrs. Carver enunciated the word with a nod. “And that, they do.” She stood at the cast-iron stove, whisking up chicken gravy, and tilted her head toward Emmy. “We best put some by Miss Emmy’s place, too.”

  Emmy’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced up at Ben while setting a platter of sliced bread on the table.

  “It looks like we’re in for another feast.” Ben walked over to the stove and inhaled the scent of roasted chicken. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You can have a seat,” Mrs. Carver said. “I’ll pour this gravy into a bowl and we’re ready to eat.”

  “You did a wonderful job setting the table, boys,” Emmy said to Zeb and Levi as she held out a chair for each boy to take a seat.

  The boys glowed under her approval, and for the first time since arriving at Ben’s, they looked comfortable to be there.

  Mrs. Carver shuffled over to the table with the gravy and set it next to the potatoes. She stood for a moment, surveying the spread. “I feel like we’re missing something.”

  “You!” Zeb said with a laugh.

  “I think that’s it.” Mrs. Carver chuckled and took her seat closest to the stove.

  Ben sat at the head of the table with the boys to his right. Emmy stood for a moment, as if she didn’t know whether to sit in the empty seat near Ben, or take the seat at the foot of the table.

  “Why don’t you sit right here,” Mrs. Carver said, patting the spot next to Ben.

  Emmy walked around the table and took the seat Mrs. Carver suggested.

  “Shall we say grace?” Ben asked.

  Mrs. Carver reached across the table and took Levi’s hand, and then offered her other one to Emmy, who sat to her right.

  Emmy glanced up at Ben and their gazes met for a heartbeat before she slipped her hand inside his.

  For a moment, Ben marveled at how soft and warm her skin felt, but then he reached for Zeb’s sticky hand to his right and bowed his head, trying to concentrate on his prayer.

  “For this meal and our lives, Lord, we are eternally grateful. Amen.”

  “And for Mrs. Carver’s potatoes. Amen,” Zeb added quickly.

  Laughter filled the room again and Emmy gave Ben’s hand a gentle squeeze before she let go, turning her attention to Mrs. Carver’s savory food.

  “It feels good to be cooking for a full house again.” Mrs. Carver placed a drumstick on each of the boys’ plates. “After my children grew up and moved away, and my husband, Stan, died, it was just me. I love to cook, but there was no one to eat my food, but me.” She smiled at the four of them. “Now look. Here I am, doing what I love most. I say this is a gift from God.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Ben said. “A gift for all of us.”

  “I’m also counting my blessings.” Emmy took a piece of chicken and placed it on her plate before handing the platter to Ben. “Living here will be so much nicer than the boardinghouse.” She smiled at the boys. “And I get extra time with two of my favorite students.”

  Levi’s cheeks turned pink and Zeb dipped his head in embarrassment, clearly pleased by her words.

  “I put the desk in your room and brought up all your trunks,” Ben told her. “As soon as we’re done eating, feel free to get to work.”

  Emmy looked around the table, sadness marring her features. “I would hate to miss out on all the fun we have planned.”

  “Fun?” Ben asked.

  “We’re going to make popcorn and hot chocolate with Mrs. Carver after supper,” Levi said to Ben. “And Miss Wilkes said she would teach us a parlor game if we’re good and help clear the table.”

  “It sounds like you have quite the evening planned.” Ben took a bite of the fluffy potatoes, surprised by how creamy and smooth they were. “I can understand now why you love these potatoes so much, Mrs. Carver. I’ve never tasted anything like them.”

  Mrs. Carver grinned and Levi spoke up. “Her secret ingredient is love.”

  “Levi!” Zeb made a face at his brother. “That was supposed to be a secret!”

  Ben tried to hide his laugh. “Love was the first ingredient I tasted, so the secret was out before Levi told me.”

  Levi looked relieved and the adults shared a smile.

  “Do any of you play instruments?” Mrs. Carver asked the group.

  “I play piano,” Emmy offered.

  “And I have a mouth organ, though I’m not very good.” Ben took a bite of the tender chicken trying to concentrate on the conversation as his taste buds demanded attention.

  “Maybe we can have us a little music this evening,” Mrs. Carver said, tucking a napkin into her lap. “My Stan used to play the fiddle after supper and it was my favorite time of the day.”

  Emmy’s soft gaze turned to Ben. “Would you play for us?”

  “I suppose I could try—though I warn you, it’s been a while since I played.”

  Mrs. Carver clapped and Emmy smiled. The boys cheered, though Ben suspected that they did it because the ladies seemed pleased, not because they were particularly excited to hear Ben play. But he didn’t blame them for their joy. It felt good to bring a smile to Emmy’s face and a fond memory to Mrs. Carver’s mind.

  But, best of all, it made him happy knowing this little makeshift family had found a home, as temporary as it was.

  * * *

  A week later, Emmy took advantage of the nice weather after school and walked around town to find help for an idea she had. The sun was shining bright, causing the snow to melt and puddle in the deep wagon ruts crisscrossing the streets. Dozens of clapboard buildings, some complete with false fronts and others fashioned in the Greek Revival style, lined every street, with wooden boardwalks connecting them together. It looked like many of the frontier towns she had passed on her way from Massachusetts to Minnesota—but unlike the others, it had the beauty of the Upper Mississippi River meandering alongside the town.

  Emmy pushed open the door to the Northern Hotel and was surprised to find such an elegant interior. White wainscoting ran around the room, a wide staircase stood directly across from the main door and a generous counter took up the corner of the lobby to her right.

  A tall gentleman stood there with a smile on his face. “May I help you?”

  “I’m looking for
Mr. Allen.”

  “I’m Jude Allen.” He came out from behind the counter, his suitcoat pressed and his shoes shining. “How may I be of service?”

  “I am Miss Wilkes, the new schoolteacher.”

  Mr. Allen extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Wilkes. Rose has told us all about you.”

  “Rose Bell?”

  “Yes. She’s my wife’s sister.”

  Rose was a sweet student with a bit of a stubborn streak. Emmy had taken a liking to her immediately. “She’s been a very good student. So polite and kind to her classmates.”

  “Elizabeth will be happy to hear that.” He glanced up the stairs. “She’s tending to our newborn daughters at the moment, if you’d like to wait to speak to her.”

  “I won’t take up more time than necessary.” Emmy pulled a poster from her satchel and handed it to Mr. Allen. “I’ll be hosting the first Friday Frolic at school next week and I am looking for volunteers.”

  He glanced at the poster. “Friday Frolic?”

  “I thought it would be a nice diversion from the early winter.” And a way to make herself indispensable to the school board. “Each week I’ll host a social event at the school that the whole town is invited to attend. The first event will be a spelling contest.”

  Mr. Allen smiled. “I’ll be happy to tack up this poster. It will be fun to hear the children compete.”

  Emmy smiled uncomfortably, because this was where she had lost interest from several others she’d already asked. “Actually, this will not be a student spelling contest. I am asking prominent members of the community to participate. Reverend Lahaye and Mr. Cooper have already agreed, but I need at least ten spellers. They told me to come to you.” She quickly pulled another piece of paper out of her bag. “I have a list of four hundred words here for you to study ahead of time.”

  His eyebrows rose as he looked at the list—but didn’t touch it. “I apologize, but I don’t believe I’m the man for the job, Miss Wilkes.”

  “Nonsense, Jude.” A beautiful lady appeared on the steps holding two infants in her arms. “It sounds like a lovely idea.”