A Teaching Touch (Tales From Biders Clump Book 4)

by Danni Roan

  Rebecca bit back a laugh. “Oh, I don’t think your Ma could let you go until you’re at least sixteen or seventeen,” she answered seriously.

  “That long huh?” Billy mused. “That’s about forever.”

  “It is a rather long time,” Rebecca agreed, suppressing a smile.

  “And what if you meet another girl you like in the mean time?” Grady offered.

  “I don’t like no other girls,” Billy said, leaning toward Rebecca conspiratorially, “they have cooties, ya know.”

  Rebecca giggled despite herself at the boy’s serious turn. “Maybe they grow out of them,” she said through her laughter.

  A solid knock on the front door drew all eyes in that direction, but Rebecca rose to her feet as she moved to answer it.

  “Good afternoon,” a woman’s voice wafted into the house. “I’m Mrs. Stanley; I’ve come to fetch Billy.”

  “So pleased to finally meet you,” Rebecca spoke, her voice kind and inviting. “Won’t you come in, we were just having tea.”

  A moment later, the two women entered the parlor. “Please have a seat,” Rebecca offered. “I’ll fetch another cup and we’ll have a nice visit.”

  Mrs. Stanley was a tall woman with sun-streaked blonde hair and eyes as blue as Billy’s.

  “Hi, Ma,” the boy spoke, grinning. “You should try some cookies, they’re mighty good.”

  “You don’t say?” the woman of approximately thirty said with a mischievous grin. “You know I like cookies.” She turned her eyes to Grady.

  “Ma’am,” Grady offered politely.

  “It’s nice to see you Mr. Gatlin. I trust Billy is staying out of trouble at school.”

  “He is now, yes ma’am,” Grady winked at Billy, who grinned.

  “I must say it is a relief that he can come to school with his brothers each day now. He was always into something at home, no matter how much I tried to keep him busy. He was even starting to read words from the Bible we used at story time.” She shook her head with wonder.

  “He’s doing just fine at school.” Grady continued, “We get on pretty well except he insists that the girls all have cooties and he can’t sit with them.”

  The woman’s bright eyes fell on her son and he dropped his gaze guiltily. “Billy, if I hear you aren’t minding Mr. Gatlin at that school, you’ll be right home and can work with your pa in the fields.”

  “Yes ma’am,” the boy replied, “but everyone knows girls have cooties.” His voice faded to nothing on the last notes.

  “Here you are, Mrs. Stanley,” Rebecca reappeared, carrying a fresh pot of tea and another cup.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I let Billy come calling,” Mrs. Stanley spoke as she added sugar to her tea. “I’m afraid it was for purely selfish reasons I agreed. You see, it gives me a bit more time to do the shopping and organize for the week.”

  “I’m glad you let him come,” Rebecca smiled. “I rather enjoy his company.”

  At that moment, Billy sneezed, making both women look at him.

  “Bless you,” Grady rumbled.

  “I hope you aren’t coming down with that cold Johnnie had last week.” Mrs. Stanley’s eyes were pinched with concern. “You boys seem to share every little sniffle.”

  “I’m fine, Ma.” Billy grinned, reaching for another cookie.

  “Ms. Carol, I hope I’m not too forward, but I understand you worked with a mission before coming here to Biders Clump. It must have been truly challenging work.” Her eyes held only genuine interest.

  Rebecca glanced at Grady before replying, the old guilt and shame gurgling in her chest. “Yes, I did work at a mission with my sister,” she finally replied. “We worked at a children’s home in Panama.”

  Mrs. Stanley smiled brightly. “So you like children.” Her words were a statement.

  “Oh, yes. We were so happy to be able to help even a little to make their lives better.”

  “You must have seen some sad cases,” Mrs. Stanley said, shaking her head at the injustice of the world. “The world can be a very unkind place to children.” She looked at Billy, love clear in her blue eyes.

  “Yes, I was telling Grady,” Rebecca blushed at the use of his first name and hurried to correct her mistake, “Mr. Gatlin, that many of the children were quite ill when they first arrived at the home. I was as much nurse as house mother, I’m afraid.”

  “Is your sister still there?” Mrs. Stanley asked, studying her teacup.

  “Yes, she seems far more equipped for the missionary life,” Rebecca said, dropping her eyes.

  “Well, we’re terribly thankful you’ve come to join us here in our little town.” The older woman smiled. Her expression, truly welcoming, held no censure. “It’s amazing how God seems to move people around this world. You never know who you’ll meet or how they’ll bless your life.” She smiled, placing her cup on the table.

  “I was saying something similar,” Grady said. “Sometimes we don’t know what the purpose is when things happen, but God does and He’ll see us through in the end.”

  “Well said Mr. Gatlin,” Mrs. Stanley agreed. “Now I’d better get this young man home before those other boys find some mischief to get up to. Fortunately, I have a nice stew ready for supper and will only need to warm it.” She turned her eyes to Rebecca. “I’m glad to meet you properly.”

  “It’s a true pleasure,” Rebecca said brightly, rising with the woman to escort her to the door.

  “Say your good-byes, Billy,” Mrs. Stanley added, reaching toward her son.

  Billy stood next to Rebecca, a serious look on his milk-mustached face. “Good-bye,” he grinned. “I’ll see ya soon again, alright?”

  “That would be lovely,” Rebecca smiled, trying not to giggle again when Mrs. Stanley buried her laugh in a snort, as Billy kissed Rebecca’s hand, leaving traces of milk on her smooth skin.

  “Well, that was a bit of fun,” Grady spoke as they watched mother and son walk down the street toward a waiting buckboard.

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Rebecca laughed, and the sound zinged to his heart. “Now I believe I’d better get our supper organized as well. I’m sure Sara and Rafe will be along soon.”

  Chapter 10

  The week seemed to fly by and Saturday evening saw Sara and Rebecca busy frying chicken and preparing other picnic foods for a leisurely Sunday afternoon. They had laughed, chatted, and enjoyed a day at home.

  As darkness fell and the sound of crickets drifted through the back-screen-door, a gentle sense of peace and wellbeing filled the boarding house and its tenants.

  “It’s a mighty fine night,” Rafe said from where he stood gazing out the backdoor. “Be a nice night for a stroll,” he added with a grin, looking at Sara.

  Sara flounced toward him, nestling in under his arm. “That sounds lovely,” she agreed, her bright green eyes gazing up at him adoringly.

  Chuckling, Rafe grabbed her wrap from a peg and together they stepped out into the star light.

  Grady Gatlin swung his long legs out from under the table where he had been planning lessons for the week ahead. “They’re a lively couple aren’t they?” He grinned at Rebecca, who had just put the dishes away.

  “Yes, it’s been lovely having them here,” she replied. “I feel like I truly have a friend in Sara.”

  “I hope she’s not your only friend,” the big man teased.

  “No, she’s not my only friend,” Rebecca agreed with a smile, “though technically, you’re my boarder.”

  “Well if folks can’t be friendly with each other, there doesn’t seem to be any point in anything,” he joshed, eliciting a laugh from the young woman.

  Rebecca looked down into Grady’s handsome face. His dark eyes were bright with amusement and she wondered when she had started to have feelings for him. There was something about the man, both kind and strong, that drew her somehow.

  The loud crashing knock on the front door made them both jump, but Grady was faster and moved down the hall in a
dash, yanking the door open.

  “Mr. Gatlin!” Johnnie Stanley wailed, “I need Ms. Rebecca quick!”

  “Calm down son,” Grady said, taking the boy by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ma sent me for Ms. Rebecca,” Johnnie sniffed, “Billy’s real sick like, he can’t breathe and the Doc’s out of town. Please!’ he ended.

  Rebecca pushed past Grady. “Exactly what is wrong with Billy?” she asked firmly.

  “He was coughin’ real bad and now he can’t hardly catch his breath.” Johnnie said, tears threatening to fall. “Ma said maybe you’d know what to do since you worked in that other country.”

  “We’re coming,” Grady offered, gazing at the buckboard and the agitated horses in the street. “Rebecca, what do you need?”

  “Hold on,” Rebecca replied as she turned and pounded up the stairs to the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with several bottles and her coat. “Let’s go.”

  Grady drove like a mad man toward the Stanley ranch, driving the horses hard as the buckboard jumped and jittered along the rutted road.

  Rebecca clung to the wagon seat as Johnnie braced himself at her side. Twenty minutes later they arrived at the large farm, lurching to a stop as Grady hauled on the reins in front of the house.

  Rebecca was out of the wagon the moment it stopped and headed for the front door.

  “Johnnie, you see to the horses.” Grady’s gruff voice left no room for argument as he followed her. Before they reached the door it was thrown open and a tall, dark-haired man greeted them.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said simply, his hazel eyes worried. “Beatrice is in there,” he finished pointing to a room where a lamp glowed.

  “Oh, Rebecca you came.” Billy’s mother turned dark-rimmed eyes to the younger woman. “Do you think you can help?” Her voice shook on the last word as tears began to pour down her weary face.

  Rebecca stepped up to the bed and leaned over the small, still form that lay swaddled in blankets. Billy’s face was pale, his cheeks unnaturally flushed as his breathing came in deep, heavy rasps.

  “He started coughing Friday night and now…” Beatrice Stanley’s voice shook.

  “What is the cough like?” Rebecca asked, her voice soft but strong in the hushed room. “Did it sound dry, like in a cold winter, or wet and heavy?”

  “Wet, almost thick.”

  “It sounds like croup,” Rebecca said, lifting Billy’s head and tipping a brown bottle to his lips. “Bring a pan or bucket.”

  The sound of movement behind her did not deter Rebecca as she urged the bitter liquid into the boy’s mouth.

  As the moments ticked by an odd gurgling began to rise from Billy, and soon he was coughing and chocking as Rebecca lifted him toward the bucket where he retched up the phlegm that had blocked his throat.

  “We’re not through it yet,” she spoke, propping the boy on pillows so that he was partially sitting.

  “Grady, why don’t you get some tea started?” she asked, her pale eyes pleading. “I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night.”

  “Mrs. Stanley,” Grady spoke to the woman who stood by the door wringing her hands. “Can you help me?” His voice was gentle, encouraging.

  “Oh, yes. Of course,” she replied, as he took her elbow and turned her to the kitchen.

  Grady glanced over his shoulder to where Rebecca sat on the edge of a hard chair, massaging the boy’s chest with warm hands. He offered a silent prayer as the gurgling noise started again and stepped through the door.

  “Bea?” Mr. Stanley's deep voice echoed in the quiet kitchen. Mrs. Stanley raced into her husband’s arms as the tears she had been trying to hold back began to pour down her face.

  “Have faith, Bill,” Grady offered, “Rebecca will do all she can.”

  “Thanks, Grady.” The man’s hazel eyes were chagrined, but he held tight to his wife and waited.

  “Is that you, Mr. Gatlin?” another voice called as a blue-eyed blond boy poked his head out of the hall.

  “It’s me,” Grady called. “You and your brother’s all up, Steve?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the boy of eight answered hesitantly.

  “You tell them to come on out and give me a hand, would you?” Grady smiled encouragingly and the bright blond head disappeared back into the darkness of the hall, but returned a moment later with two others in tow.

  “You need us, Mr. Gatlin?” an older boy asked.

  “I could use your help, Charlie,” Grady said, “I think Ms. Rebecca would like some nice hot tea.” The sound of heavy coughing from the downstairs room off the hall made them all turn, but the boys did not retreat.

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said, turning his eyes back to his teacher. “Davie, you fetch some cups, and Steve you fill the kettle,” the older boy ordered. “I’ll stir up the fire.”

  Grady smiled at the boys, knowing the best thing for them now was to feel useful, needed.

  Soon the kettle on the stove was puffing steam and Grady had managed to get Mr. and Mrs. Stanley to sit as he poured tea from a big teapot.

  The front door opened again and Johnnie walked in, looking at his family seated at the kitchen table.

  “Ms. Rebecca’s with Billy,” Grady offered. “Sit and have a cup of tea to warm you.” His teacher voice had the boy moving for a seat in an instant.

  Smiling encouragingly at the family, he rose, lifted another cup, and headed for the other room.

  “Rebecca?” Grady’s voice was a soothing caress as Rebecca turned troubled eyes to him. “I brought you some tea.”

  The pretty young woman smiled at him wearily, but took the cup.

  Grady could still hear the rasping in Billy’s chest, but perhaps the boy looked a little better.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Some of the blockage has broken up,” Rebecca offered, “but we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Mr. Grady,” Billy’s voice was small and weak, and the big man knelt by the bed to listen.

  “I’m here little buddy.” He stroked the damp hair from the boy’s face.

  “Mr. Grady, will you do somethin’ for me?” the boy whispered, then started coughing again.

  “Anything you want, Billy,” Grady replied lifting the boy until the coughing subsided.

  Lipid blue eyes opened to study the teachers face. “If’n I die, you best marry Ms. Rebecca.” His voice was barely audible now and the big man leaned close. “I don’t want her ta be an old maid.”

  A bright tear slipped from Grady’s dark eyes. “Now you don’t worry about Ms. Rebecca,” he said firmly, “you just get better.”

  Settling the boy on his pillows, he placed a warm hand on Rebecca’s where it rested on her knee. “We’ll pray,” he offered. “You work.”

  As the night wore on, Grady managed to keep the family busy and eventually convinced the boys to go to bed.

  Through the long hours, he prayed with and encouraged Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, and checked regularly on Rebecca and Billy.

  Rebecca blinked her eyes open as the first bright rays of a new morning drifted into the room. Forcing herself upright from where she had fallen against the bed in prayer, she looked into the sweet, peaceful face of the little boy who had stolen a piece of her heart.

  His eyes were closed, his long dark lashes feathered across his cheek, as wisps of white gold hair fanned in ringlets over his pale forehead.

  Rebecca stoked his cool hand, smiling at his slow steady breathing. Pushing herself unsteadily to her feet, the young woman shoved a lock of ginger-colored hair from her eyes and stepped out into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Stanley was on her feet in a moment, gratitude and fear at war in her eyes.

  Rebecca smiled, laying her hand on the other woman’s arm as she dashed past into Billy’s room.

  “Thank you,” a hoarse rumble passed her as Mr. Stanley joined his wife.

  Rebecca slipped silently from the kitchen and out onto the porch of the house into warm, golden
sunrise.

  The early rays of the sun dancing on her skin were like a loving caress and she closed her eyes, drinking in the warmth.

  “Rebecca?” a soft voice called, and she turned her bright blue eyes on Grady as he came from the barn, a milk pail in his hand.

  “How are you?” he asked, stepping up on the porch. “How’s Billy?” Concern bubbled in his voice as he eyes raked her face.

  “He’s alright,” Rebecca smiled. “He’ll be fine.” All of the pent-up tension, all of the stress and worry through the night, broke loose and she began to cry.

  Placing the bucket on the porch, Grady Gatlin pulled Rebecca to him, wrapping her in his warm arms and the growing love in his heart to let her cry.

  A few moments later, she drew away, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief he offered. “I’m sorry, that was silly.”

  “Why?” Grady asked, looking into her lovely face. Her hair had come half-unpinned and fell around her cheeks in a tangle, but somehow only enhanced her beauty.

  “I shouldn’t fall apart like that.”

  The sound of a buggy and horses making the turn into the yard made them both look up to see the doctor’s black carriage arriving, followed by Rafe on his big spotted horse.

  “I brought him as quick as we could come,” Rafe called, swinging down from Chester’s back and taking the buggy horse by the reins. "Sara and I heard when Johnnie arrived last night," he finished in explanation.

  “The boy’s inside?” Doc asked, walking past them and through the door.

  “Yes,” Grady and Rebecca echoed.

  “How is he?” Rafe asked, propping a booted foot on the first step that led to the porch.

  “He should pull through,” Rebecca said, a wan smile gracing her face.

  “I’ll head back and let Sara know,” Rafe said with a smile. “You two need me to fetch you home?”

  “No, I’m sure Mr. Stanley will see to it,” Grady replied.

  “Besides,” Rebecca added, “I’d like to see what the doctor has to say.”

  Rafe smiled, pushing his hat back on his head. “I’ll see you at home later, then.” He grinned, mounted up and headed out of the yard.

  “Are you alright?” Grady asked, turning back to Rebecca and placing his hands on her upper arms.