“That boy needs a job and a purpose. He’s been left undisciplined and spoiled for far too long.” Arlan tipped his hat to Aleta and tucked the candy into his pocket.
“The problem is his mother has just about ruined him for work or anything else. Enjoy your day, Arlan.”
“And I hope your day is a pleasant one, Mrs. Bruner.”
Stepping into the sunshine, Arlan walked to the school, whistling softly as he considered Alex and her latest project. He’d spent the better part of the day Saturday helping her bend the chicken wire into a shape that resembled the Statue of Liberty. After borrowing a wagon from Douglas, he and Alex took the form out to Blake. The carpenter readily agreed to create a simple base for it and deliver it to the school on Monday.
Ginny volunteered to collect newspaper and offered to help with the paint when they got that far in their efforts.
Arlan knew Alex planned to spend that afternoon having the students place paste-coated strips of newspaper over the chicken wire to create a solid shape.
Anxious to see their progress, he rounded the corner of the school building to discover the students outside dipping strips of newspaper into the paste while Alex oversaw the project. An apron topped her coat and she had the sleeves rolled back to keep them out of the paste. The children took turns putting on strips, but all of them had the gooey glue coating their hands.
Tom and John looked up as he approached.
“Hi, Mr. Guthry. Want to help?” Tom asked with a cocky smile.
Arlan shook his head. “I do believe I’ll observe your progress from a safe distance.”
“I never pegged you for a coward,” Alex teased in a low voice as she stepped beside him, shaking paste off her hands to one side. “What do you think?”
“With all the paste those kids are wearing on their clothes, you’re going to have a multitude of unhappy mothers.”
“It’s just flour and water, so it will wash right out, but it is a big mess.” Alex watched as one of the boys tried to scratch an itch on his nose and smeared a sticky glob on his cheek.
As she laughed, she turned to Arlan. The joy radiating from her face arrowed straight to his heart.
“I brought the students a little treat, but I think I better leave it on your desk for them to eat later, after they’ve washed their hands.”
Alex nodded her head in agreement so he walked inside the school. The smells of books, chalk dust, and damp wool revived memories of his school days.
Arlan left the candy on Alex’s desk, added wood to the stove then took a moment to study the classroom. He admired the students’ work she’d posted on the side walls of the room. A framed poem, written in a fancy script and decorated with an autumn scene that looked like something Ginny painted, drew his attention.
The description of autumn, written by Tom Grove, left Arlan impressed by the boy’s talent to paint pictures with words. He hoped James Grove would give his son the opportunity to explore a career doing something other than farming.
When he returned outside, Arlan leaned against the railing of the steps and observed the students place the last of the strips over their statue. Although it was far from complete, the project began to take shape.
Alex already told him of her plans for finishing it, incorporating several assignments tied to the Statue of Liberty including math, history, and civics.
The enthusiasm of the students was palpable as they took turns washing their hands at the pump and some of the boys tossed clumps of paste at each other.
Arlan walked down the remaining steps, over to where Alex stood pressing loose ends together and brushing off excess paste on the statue.
“You picked a good day for this. With the sun shining and the temperature so mild, it almost feels like early fall this afternoon instead of nearly winter.”
She glanced at him then continued wiping away dripping globs of glue. “I was worried about the children getting chilled with their fingers in the cold paste, but we worked quickly. As soon as they’ve got their hands clean, we’ll go back inside and warm up.”
Arlan hid a smirk as two of the older girls squealed when Ralph threatened to spread paste in their hair. “The stove needed some wood, so I stoked it when I left the candy on your desk. It should be warm when you go in.”
“Thank you, Arlan, and thank you for your help with this project. I’d never have gotten started without your assistance.”
“You’re most welcome. If I can help with anything at all, you know where to find me.” Arlan started to step away then stopped. “Have you had any problems today?”
“None so far.” Alex glanced out at the trees behind the school. She knew Fred sometimes sat and watched them when the students were on the playground at recess.
As soon as the last student left for the evening, she locked the schoolhouse door so he wouldn’t catch her alone in the classroom. She could take care of herself, but worried about what would happen if he forced her into defensive action.
“Do you want me to stop by later?” Arlan’s question pulled her attention back to the present.
“That’s unnecessary, Arlan. Like I’ve told you, Luke, the sheriff, Blake, and the rest of the board members who check on me - I’ll be fine.” Alex hated wasting the time of the busy men who felt obligated to look in on her. “Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s hard not to.” Arlan muttered then backed away from Alex. “Have fun finishing your project. If you need help moving it inside so it isn’t left out in the weather, just let me know.”
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Alex glanced at the statue. It would be far too heavy for her to move alone, especially covered in the wet strips of paste. “If it isn’t any trouble, would you mind coming back after you close the bank. We should probably leave it inside to dry tonight, don’t you think?”
“Yes. The paste will dry faster somewhere warm. If it rains or snows, you don’t want it getting wet.” Arlan pulled a watch from his pocket and mentally noted the time. “I’ll be back as soon as I close the bank.”
“Thank you, Arlan. The least I can do is feed you supper.”
“That certainly isn’t necessary or expected, but much appreciated. I’ll see you later.” He grinned at her before walking back to the bank.
“From the spring in your step and the twinkle in your eye, I have to assume you went to see Miss Alex.” Luke gave Arlan a knowing grin. “How is their statue progressing?”
“Very well. Every student along with the teacher had paste up to their elbows when I was there.”
Luke laughed then turned his attention to helping a customer who walked in.
Later that afternoon, Luke left early since the bank was quiet and all their paperwork was up to date.
Arlan recalled the mail he’d picked up at the post office earlier and retrieved the envelopes from his coat pocket.
He read an advertisement for a new mathematical machine that didn’t interest him in the least and tossed the paper aside. The second letter bore Edna’s feathery script on the envelope.
Annoyed to receive another missive from the woman, Arlan hesitated to read it.
Her last letter hinted that she’d heard rumors he’d been escorting “that magician,” as she referred to Alex, around town. She cautioned him against doing anything he’d later regret.
A sigh escaped him as he slit open the envelope and unfolded the thin piece of parchment.
Mr. Guthry,
I am fully aware of the matter of your indecent conduct with that strumpet who came to town under the guise of a traveling magician. A very reliable source has kept me informed of the appalling circumstances.
A derisive snort escaped Arlan. If he were a betting man, he’d place money on the reliable source being none other than Mildred Decker.
In light of your obvious attention to that revolting Jezebel, I’m beginning to question the wisdom of furthering our relationship upon my return to Hardman. I can’t abide the thought of that horrid woman
taking over my job and home in my absence. It is intolerable to contemplate her sinking her devious claws into my man as well.
Her man? Edna all but ignored him the day she left town then took her own sweet time in letting him know she’d arrived and her mother was well. The childish and demanding tone of her recent letters certainly didn’t establish any right for her to refer to him as her man. He’d not made her a single promise.
I’ve heard she’s even practicing witchcraft and has cast a spell over most of the men in town along with several of the women and children. That wicked trickster should be run out of Hardman immediately. In addition, your philandering with the trollop reflects poorly on me. How could you do such a thing with no regard to my reputation?
His jaw tightened as he read Edna’s words. Alex was one of the biggest-hearted people he’d ever met. Edna’s references to her in such deplorable terms made him incensed.
Anxiously, I await your apology for your behavior and a declaration of your intentions. This is of the upmost importance and requires your immediate response. In the event you choose to continue your association with that woman, be advised that I have friends in town who will keep me apprised to the situation.
Furious, Arlan didn’t bother reading the rest of the letter. He opened his desk drawer with a rough jerk and took out a clean sheet of parchment. Angrily dunking his pen in the inkwell, he wrote a brief, impersonal note back to Miss Edna Bevins assuring her she no longer needed to concern herself with his affairs. Any intentions he may have had about resuming their courtship upon her return to town no longer existed.
Swiftly addressing an envelope, he shoved the letter inside and sealed it then glanced at the clock.
Luke wouldn’t care if he closed the bank a few minutes early, so he rushed to lock up the building. He ran down the street to the post office and mailed the letter to Edna before he could change his mind.
With his hands shoved into his pockets, he felt like a huge burden lifted off his shoulders as he walked home.
Once inside his tidy dwelling, he removed his hat and coat and hung them up. He hurried to change into a pair of work pants and a warm flannel shirt then tugged on old boots and a worn coat that had seen better days. There wasn’t any need to get paste all over his good clothes when he helped Alex move her statue inside the school.
After settling an old hat on his head, he strolled off in the direction of the school, mulling over his relationship with Edna.
He’d never been in love with the woman and now he considered if he’d really ever liked her.
“People who are wrapped up in themselves make small packages.” Ben Franklin had it right with that bit of wisdom.
As Arlan reflected on the time he spent with Edna, she always seemed quite self-absorbed and disinterested in things he liked or enjoyed. She had the role of helpless female down to an art. He wondered how he ever thought he could endure a lifetime of listening to her screeching little voice and bird-like ways.
Whether anything developed with Alex, at least Arlan finally felt free to pursue a relationship with the vibrant woman who brought out the best in him.
Two long strides carried him up the steps to the school. A turn of the doorknob didn’t release the latch, leaving him pleased Alex remembered to lock the door.
The day he’d found it unlocked, he chastised her to no end after rushing inside expecting Fred to be in the midst of attacking her again. Chagrined, she admitted she forgot to lock the door after the students left for the day.
The loud rap of his knuckles on the door echoed in the dim light of fading day. He listened as Alex’s footsteps strode across the floor and the lock turned.
“Hi, Arlan. Thank you for coming to help move that thing inside.” Alex pointed to the statue in the schoolyard, no longer dripping paste, but still wet and sticky. She noticed he’d changed his clothes and was glad she didn’t have to worry about him ruining one of his suits with the sticky glue.
“My pleasure, I think.” His cocky grin elicited a smile in return.
Studiously observing the statue, the steps, and the width of the doorway, Arlan motioned for Alex to pick up one side of the creation.
It was heavier than he anticipated. He considered setting it down and going to get one of the men in town to help, but Alex hefted her end with a grunt and took a step toward the school.
“I think it best if I walk backward,” Arlan said, carefully maneuvering his way up the steps to the door. “We should be able to squeeze in with this. Which corner do you want it in?”
“The back corner, on the left.” Alex gritted her teeth and lifted her end of the project she currently thought of as a monstrosity. She should have covered a space on the floor and done the work inside the school so it wouldn’t have to be moved. At the time, though, working on it outside seemed a better choice than cleaning paste off everything inside the building.
“Almost there.” Arlan forced his voice to sound encouraging although the space from the door to the corner seemed yards away instead of mere feet. His efforts at carrying the bulk of the weight forced his arms to quiver under the burden.
Air whooshed out of him in relief when they set it down and took a step back.
“I had no idea it would weigh quite so much.” Alex puffed as she tried to catch her breath. “Even Bill doesn’t weigh that much.”
Arlan chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I think your horse would have been less cooperative to pack inside the school.”
Quickly gathering her things, Alex laughed. “Bill would not appreciate any attempts at furthering his education.”
Alex motioned for Arlan to follow her outside then locked the door behind him. He noticed she didn’t wear a coat and hurried to remove his, dropping it around her shoulders.
“Where is your coat, dear lady?” Now that the sun had set, the air held a cold bite to it. Arlan fought down a shiver as the wind blew over his shirtsleeves.
“I wore it home right after the children left for the day and popped something into the oven for dinner. When I ran back to the classroom, I forgot to grab it. It’s not far to walk.” Alex started to hand Arlan back his coat, but he settled his hands on her shoulders, holding it in place.
“Wear it, Alex. We’re almost there.”
She reveled in the warmth of Arlan’s coat wrapped around her every bit as much as his scent that enveloped her. The heat from where his hands rested on her shoulders threatened to sear right through the coat and her dress to her skin.
Inviting Arlan to dinner was akin to playing with fire. She knew she shouldn’t, yet couldn’t resist the temptation of spending another hour or two with him.
Reminders that Arlan belonged to another ate at her with guilt. If she had left behind a beau to care for an injured parent, she wouldn’t appreciate some stranger stepping in, trying to claim his affections.
On the other hand, if his affections could be claimed so effortlessly, they obviously weren’t all that strong or binding.
As she opened the door to her little house, she cast a glance at Arlan and caught him watching her. She smiled and hung his coat by the door then motioned for him to remove his hat.
The delightful, comforting smell of yeasty bread filled the room with a mouth-watering aroma, making her glad she’d planned ahead for the meal.
Familiar with her home, Arlan washed his hands at the pump sink and took plates from the shelf to set on the table.
It was ironic in all the months he courted Miss Edna, she’d never invited him to eat with her or to set foot inside the teacher’s house. Aware that some people might question the propriety of him being alone with Alex, he didn’t care.
All the school board knew he and Alex were friends and none of them seemed concerned by his continued visits to her home. The time they spent together generally involved working on a project for her students, discussing something they’d read in the paper, or him trying to cajole her into sharing one of her magic secrets.
After asking the blessi
ng on the meal, Arlan ate his fill of a tasty beef pie, made with chunks of leftover roast, potatoes and carrots. A jar of preserved green beans and slices of the hot bread completed the meal.
Although her coffee wasn’t quite as good as Filly’s, Arlan enjoyed his second cup of the rich brew. He leaned back in his chair and listened to Alex talk about plans she and Ginny worked on for the Christmas Carnival.
Entranced by the way her mouth moved as she spoke, Arlan didn’t realize he leaned closer and closer until Alex stopped talking and released a sigh.
“Arlan, don’t you think…”
“Yes, I do.” He set down his coffee cup and rose to his feet, pulling Alex up next to him. Gently tracing his thumb across her bottom lip, he watched her eyes flutter closed and listened to her draw in a ragged breath.
“Alex, please, may I kiss you?” Arlan thought he’d die if she said no. Every nerve, every muscle, every ounce of blood pumping rapidly through his veins wanted to taste her lips, savor their velvety softness moving against his own.
“Arlan...” Alex raised her gaze to his. The wanting in her eyes was undeniable, but she stepped back from him. “As much as I want to say yes, I have to say no. I refuse to come between you and Miss Bevins. It wouldn’t be right or fair.”
“There is no me and Miss Bevins. In fact, I wrote her a letter today making that point abundantly clear.” Arlan moved until he stood with the toes of his boots disappearing beneath the hem of Alex’s skirt.
“But I’ve heard you whispering her name over and over, like a chant or something. I know you love her, Arlan, and I won’t do this.” Alex backed up until she bumped into the wall.
Arlan wasted no time in closing the space between them. He raised his hand to her face again, trailing his index finger across her smooth cheek and along her jaw. “If you heard me whispering her name, it was in a futile effort to remind myself of her. You see, I tend to forget she even exists whenever I think of you.”
The Christmas Calamity Page 11
