He contemplated his choices as he brought in the other trunks. When he finished, he closed the door against the frigid wind and stood for a moment to shake off the snow. Miss Wilkes had removed her coat and bonnet and pulled a chair up closer to the fire, her back to him.
Firelight danced and flickered over her face as she surveyed his home. Her gaze went to the mantel where he kept his snowshoes from his circuit preaching days, reminding him that God’s plans were not always his own. Next, she looked toward the piles of books he had stacked on the floor. The stories had been his boon companions these three years, and he suspected that if her first trunk was filled with books, then she fully understood why he had so many.
She must have sensed him, because she stood and clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you for bringing in my things.” Her voice had an eastern ring to it that he didn’t hear often. It reminded him of Mrs. Ayers, the woman who had raised him when his father had abandoned him at the mission in Pokegama when he was six.
“It was my pleasure.” Ben slipped off his coat and hung it on the hook, uncertainty in his movements. What would she say when she learned about the mistake?
The young lady looked around the parlor, an uncomfortable smile forming on her pretty face. “It’s awfully quiet. Is Mrs. Lahaye at home?”
Ben took a tentative step into the room—but paused. “There is no Mrs. Lahaye.”
Her smile fell and she took a step back, putting the chair between them. “No Mrs. Lahaye?”
“I think there’s been a mistake.”
She swallowed, her gaze darting around the room as if mapping out her escape. “What kind of a mistake?”
“You’re not who we expected.”
She frowned, her expressive eyes filling with dismay. “What do you mean?”
“Are you Miss Wilkes of Springfield, Massachusetts?”
“Yes.”
“Miss Emery Wilkes?”
“Yes. Miss Emery Anne Wilkes of Springfield, Massachusetts.”
Ben groaned. “We thought you were a man.”
She let out a relieved breath. “Is that all? It’s an honest mistake. I was named after my maternal grandfather, Emery Anthrop, though my parents have always called me Emmy.”
He took another step toward her. “But you don’t understand. We didn’t want to hire a woman—we were specifically looking for a man.”
Her frown deepened as the truth settled over her. “I’m just as capable and hardworking as a man.”
“I’m sure you are, but every woman we’ve hired has been married within three months of arriving and then we’re forced to look for another schoolteacher. We want more consistency for our students.”
She swallowed and lifted her chin a notch, though her quiet voice didn’t match her determined confidence. “You have nothing to fear on that count. I have no intentions of marrying.”
“Neither did the others.”
“You have my word.” She looked pained, clearly expecting him to believe her.
He wanted to, but experience had taught him otherwise. “I don’t think your word will be good enough for the school board.” They were just as adamant as Ben. They had better things to do than replace their teachers every three months.
Her shoulders drooped and she shook her head. “I’m not wanted?”
The simple question was laced with a deeper pain—one Ben knew all too well. He’d spent his entire childhood believing he wasn’t wanted.
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
“Surely the school board won’t turn me away after I’ve come so far.” She looked at him with uncertainty. “They won’t...will they?”
Ben wished he could offer some hope. She had come a long way after all, and according to her application, she was more than qualified. But Mr. Samuelson, the newly appointed superintendent of the Little Falls school, was a hard man and once he had his mind set, it was difficult to change. Ben could just about imagine what he’d say to this attractive young lady. It wouldn’t take long for a line of beaus to come knocking on her door.
“We need to find somewhere for you to stay.” Ben started toward the kitchen. “But, first, I’ll get you a cup of hot coffee to warm you up.”
He entered the cozy kitchen and grabbed a mug, glancing at her when she stepped over the threshold. She was so young and defenseless, he wondered how her family felt about her coming all the way to Minnesota. If he had a daughter, he doubted he’d let her go so far alone—especially if she was so pretty.
“We’ll need to face the weather and go down the hill to my friends, the Coopers.” He handed her the mug of coffee, taking note of her long, slender fingers and her clear skin. “They’re friends of mine and the best chance we have of getting you somewhere safely tonight. They’ll put you up for a few nights until we can get you back on the stage Monday morning. The school board will pay for your trip home.”
“I’m not going home.” She held the coffee mug in both her hands, her back straightening with determination. “I’ve come west to teach and that’s what I intend to do.”
He crossed his arms. “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to do it somewhere else, Miss Wilkes. The school board decided to hire a man, and we won’t be happy until one is found.”
It looked like the school board would need to start looking for another teacher, and Ben would need to find a new boarder—one who wasn’t as fetching as Miss Emery Anne Wilkes.
* * *
Emmy was not going back east—not after she had come so far and sacrificed so much to leave Massachusetts. There was nothing holding her to the east, nothing but dreadful memories and angry words.
The hot coffee didn’t set well in her stomach as she stood near the front door in Reverend Lahaye’s home a few minutes later, a bag of necessities by her feet, tying her bonnet strings in preparation to go to the Coopers’ home. She watched Reverend Lahaye wrap a long scarf around his neck and then put mittens on his large hands. He was not what she had expected—but then, nothing was as she had expected. If it wasn’t snowing, she’d already be at the superintendent’s home, begging him to give her a chance. As it was, she’d go to him as soon as possible and assure him she was there to stay. She had no intentions on marrying—ever. After William’s unexpected death two days before their wedding, she had vowed to never love again. She refused to put herself in a position to suffer through the same heartache twice.
Surely, they wouldn’t turn her away once she gave her word that she didn’t plan to marry.
Reverend Lahaye glanced at her with his dark brown eyes as he put a knit cap on his equally dark hair. He was much younger and far more handsome than she had expected. When he’d answered the door, she had thought she’d arrived at the wrong house. In her mind, Reverend Lahaye was old and married—nothing like the man standing before her.
Kindness and gentleness radiated from his countenance, though she’d had a moment of panic when she realized they were alone in the house. But what woman wouldn’t?
“Do you have a scarf?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“What about mittens or a warmer coat?”
She shook her head. She hadn’t anticipated such weather for several months—time enough to buy the needed items.
“You’ll freeze to death in that bonnet and coat.” He took the lantern from the ledge near the window and walked to a door on the right side of the parlor. He opened the door and stepped inside, the shadowed light revealing a bed and a bureau in the large room. His bedroom?
She stood patiently and waited until he returned. When he stepped into the parlor again, he had a large item draped over his arm. It looked like the skin of an animal, but she’d never seen anything like it.
“What is that?”
“It’s my old buffalo robe. I used to wear it when I was
a circuit preacher.” He set the lantern on the ledge again and held the robe out for her.
She blinked at him. “What am I to do with it?”
“It’ll keep you warm. Much warmer than that.” He nodded at her fashionable winter coat. “Trust me,” he said. “You’ll thank me when we’re in the midst of the storm.”
He held it open with the fur toward the inside and the skin on the outside. She turned to let him put it on her shoulders.
She swam in the heavy material and it dragged on the floor. She could easily wrap it around her body two or three times. “I don’t know that I can trudge through the snow in this thing.”
His expression softened and a bemused smile tilted his wide mouth as he looked her over. “It’s a little bigger than I remember, but I’ll help you.” He handed her a cap, scarf and mittens. “You’ll need these, too.”
The buffalo robe engulfed her and she could hardly raise her arms. “I don’t think I can manage to put them on.”
He took the robe off again, which allowed her to remove her bonnet. She placed it in her bag and then put on the winter items.
Without warning, he draped the robe over her shoulders again. Its weight almost knocked her down.
“Your boots are impractical for this weather, as well,” he said.
“I can’t possibly wear your boots.” His feet were much larger than hers.
“I suppose you can’t.” He looked at her, the smile returning to his eyes. “I can hardly see you under all that gear.”
She felt ridiculous, but she appreciated the added protection against the cold and snow.
He lifted her bag. “We’ll go out the back door.”
She followed him through the parlor, tripping over the buffalo robe, and entered the kitchen. He glanced out the window, squinting as he looked uncertain. “I hate to take you into this storm—but we have little choice.” He turned to study her. “You’ll need to hold my hand at all times. I’m familiar with the trek to Abram and Charlotte’s, so I’ll rely on my instincts. If, for some reason we’re separated, don’t move. Stay where you are and I’ll find you.”
Apprehension wound its way around Emmy’s heart as she thought of the consequences of being lost in a blizzard. She simply nodded, thankful that he seemed so confident—but wondering if she could trust his instincts.
He opened the door and then reached his hand toward her.
She took it without hesitation and followed him into the storm. The wind bit at the exposed skin of her cheeks and nose. It stole her breath with its intensity and she clung to Reverend Lahaye’s hand with all her might. Somehow, it was even worse now than it had been when the stagecoach dropped her off.
He closed the door and then bent into the storm, tugging her along with him.
The snow whipped about them in every conceivable direction. She didn’t know if it was coming or going. Though she held his hand, she could hardly make out his shape in front of her and it hurt to look into the swirling wind and snow.
There was no sunshine to mark the way—just darkness and bitter cold wind.
They didn’t go more than ten yards before Reverend Lahaye stopped and she bumped into his back. She didn’t dare move as he turned to face her. He bent forward and spoke, but she couldn’t make out his words in the howling wind.
He didn’t move and she feared they were lost. Panic began to creep up her legs. It hit her heart with a thud, making her want to run—yet she didn’t dare.
Again, he leaned forward and spoke into her ear, but she couldn’t hear. What was wrong? Why had they stopped?
Finally, he tugged on her hand again—but if they were going forward or backward, she didn’t know. It was impossible to know anything.
They didn’t walk very far when she made out the shape of a building and he stepped through an open door.
When she followed, and her eyes adjusted, she realized they were back in his kitchen.
He shoved the door closed against the raging wind, breathing hard. “It’s madness out there.”
Emmy swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath, her fingers and toes numb. “Why are we back?”
He shook his head and took off his cap and mittens. “We would never have made it alive. We could have very well ended up in the river, or wandered out of town. I didn’t know my right from my left out there.” His eyes filled with concern. “I’m sorry, Miss Wilkes. I couldn’t risk your safety. We’ll have to stay here for the night.”
Emmy stood motionless in the buffalo robe, the reality of their situation hitting her. “I must choose between my safety or my reputation?”
He took a step away from her, as if sensing her dismay and put some space between them. “We can try again in the morning when there is a bit of sun. Maybe the storm will cease by then.” He went to the stove and put more wood inside. “Are you hungry? I can make you some flapjacks and sausage.”
She hadn’t eaten since lunch, but she didn’t think she could swallow a bite now. “Where shall I sleep?” If she’d sleep at all.
“There are two bedrooms upstairs. I had one prepared for Mr. Wil—” He paused. “You should be comfortable there. I’ll sleep in my room down here.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. Would sleeping unchaperoned in the pastor’s house make it more difficult to convince the superintendent to let her stay? What would the community say? It was vital that they think highly of her.
“I’m sure everyone will understand.” He put an iron skillet on the stove and gave her a reassuring smile, as if he could read her thoughts. “This is a small community, but no one would fault us for staying safe. I’ll explain everything.”
Emmy wasn’t so sure, but what choice did they have? They were stuck in the parsonage until the storm subsided.
Copyright © 2017 by Gabrielle Meyer
ISBN-13: 9781488017971
Once Upon a Texas Christmas
Copyright © 2017 by Winnie Griggs
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