“Would you believe me if I told you I was having similar thoughts just now?” I asked.
He stopped us and turned toward me, taking my hands to keep me steady. “You feel it too?”
“It’s as if they’re challenging me to live as large as they do.” I wobbled without the strength of his arm around me but clenched my stomach muscles and managed to remain standing. “When I say it out loud, I feel foolish.”
“No. Not foolish at all. You simply feel what I do. Not everyone can.” His eyes lifted upward toward the sky, and a flash of pain crossed his face. “In my experience, there are two kinds of people deeply moved by this place. There are those like you and me who are encouraged and inspired here, and those who are driven mad by it. No one can hide from themselves here.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Do I sound foolish? My mother said I was prone to the dramatic.”
I laughed. “Let’s agree that when we’re together we never have to feel foolish for speaking what’s on our minds.”
“Agreed.” He cocked his head, smiling down at me. “We have our own club, don’t we? A club of two in perfect harmony together?”
“I think a club has to have at least three members. We’re more of a partnership.” My pulse quickened as he stared into my eyes. I didn’t look away as I might have if it were any other man but Alexander staring at me this way. He was familiar to me, like a home I’d lived in all my life.
A fiddler at the pond’s edge began to play a jolly, raucous song. The skaters cheered. Mrs. Johnson appeared with a box of freshly popped corn.
“Shall we skate?” he asked.
“If we have to.”
He tucked my arm against his side. “Don’t despair. It gets easier.”
“Do you ever miss your family? Or the way of life?”
“My family, yes. Not the way of life.”
“No regrets, then?”
His torso expanded under my arm as he took in a deep breath. “I have but one.”
I tilted by face upward to get a good look at him. His thick lashes over lidded eyes kept me from seeing into the sea of green I’d grown so fond of watching. “What is it?” I asked softly.
“Ida.”
Flynn sped by us again, so fast I felt a breeze from his momentum. Ida. There were many layers of meaning in those three simple letters that made a name.
“She was my mistake but also my salvation. Without the children, life would have no meaning or purpose. Living with her was like living in a war zone. When she died it was as if cease-fire had been called and I could finally breathe without fear.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. What else could I say?
“I stayed hopeful right up to the end that she would get better.” He spoke lightly, but I could imagine the pain he must feel. “The lives that end after so much suffering—those deaths are the hardest to accept, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I said, thinking of my father.
We continued shuffling along the edge of the pond as the children whirled and dashed around us.
I smiled, remembering Father’s reaction when I’d shown him the acceptance letter from teacher college. “My father was the happiest I’d ever seen him when I was admitted into the teaching program. We didn’t think I’d be able to go because of the tuition. Even so, he told everyone he knew that his daughter was smart enough to get into college.”
“How did you manage the fees?” he asked.
“Someone in our church paid everything. We’ve never known who. He or she was a person like you.”
“You think too much of me,” he said.
“When I heard what this person had done, I vowed to give back by teaching as many children as I could, especially the ones whom the world had already thrown away.”
“Did your father live to see you graduate?”
“No, he died my first quarter.” My voice cracked. I’d come home to find my sister and mother huddled together in our cold front room. He’d died in his sleep. His tired heart, having fought so hard, had simply stopped beating. “My mother took it hard. Before we lost him, she always had this optimism that everything would work out.”
Fiona and Josephine skated up to us, still hand in hand. “Papa. Miss Quinn. Skate with me,” Fiona said.
“I’ll fall down without your papa holding me up,” I said.
“I’ll hold your other hand,” Josephine said. “Fiona can hold Papa’s hand.”
As was usually the case, practical Josephine had it all figured out before the rest of us. The girls parted and each took one of our hands.
“Hold tight,” I told Josephine. “Or you’ll be without a teacher on Monday morning.”
Josephine giggled. “Don’t worry, Miss Quinn. I’ll never let go.”
Together, the four of us inched across the ice laughing, our breath coming out in clouds in the cold air. When we reached the other end of the pond, Cymbeline stood on the ice with her hands on her hips, challenging Isak to a race. Undaunted by losing twice to Viktor, she thought it was a good idea to race his older brother? Our Cymbeline wasn’t one to back away from a competition, even if a fool’s errand.
Isak, cap in hand, politely declined the invitation. “Cymbeline, you’re too little to race me.”
She tore off her hat and stomped her skate on the ice. “That’s stupid.”
“Don’t you see what happened with my brother? You have to race people of your same size.”
“There’s no one my size other than Nora, and she’s a girl.” Cymbeline pointed at Nora, who was skating peacefully with her sisters. “Look at her twirling around like a dancing doll.” They indeed looked like pretty pink-cheeked dolls.
“Cymbie, come skate with us,” Josephine shouted out to her.
For a second, I thought she might refuse. Instead, she grinned and stuck her hat over her curls. “Fine, but I’ll be back,” she said to Isak.
Thank goodness, I thought. Another second and she might have harangued sweet Isak to the point of surrender.
Isak, with an expression of a lamb who avoided slaughter, skated away.
We did one lap all together. The twins joined us, circling around and back.
Poppy shouted out to us as she entered the ice. “I’m here now. Harley and Merry brought me.”
I looked over to see Harley in the process of attaching skates to the bottom of his boots. Merry had already made it to the middle.
Josephine broke away to skate with Poppy.
“Do we need a break?” Alexander asked. “How about a bag of popcorn, Fiona?”
“Yes, yes, please, Papa.”
We made our way to a bench. Grateful for the rest, I waited while Alexander and Fiona fetched the popcorn from Mrs. Johnson. Soon, they were back with three bags. With Fiona between us, we sat and munched on the salty treat and watched the skaters. The fiddler player continued his merry music. Harley and Merry skated by us, holding hands.
Fiona yawned. “Are you sleepy?” I asked her.
“No, Miss Quinn.”
It was a fib, of course. No three-year-old ever wanted to admit to needing a nap.
“I’m tired too,” I said. “Perhaps your papa would take us both home? We can have a snuggle and a book.”
Fiona brightened. “Just you and me and Papa?”
“Won’t that be lovely?” I asked.
After arranging with Harley to bring the others later, Alexander helped Fiona and me into the smaller sleigh. Oliver and Twist nuzzled noses before we set out toward home at a leisurely pace. Alexander seemed in no hurry. Fiona fell asleep against me.
My eyelids grew heavy. I was drifting off to sleep when I saw a small figure walking just inside the drifts of packed snow that defined the road. I instantly recognized the patchwork coat. “It’s Louisa,” I said.
Alexander slowed the horses. She carried a package wrapped in butcher paper and walked with her head down. Only when we had come parallel to us did she look over at us. Lord Barnes pulled the reins, stopping the horses.
> “Louisa,” I said. “Would you care for a ride home?”
Her wan face under the bright sunlight seemed constructed of delicate bird bones. She wore her usual ragged knit hat that smashed her dirty hair against the sides of her neck. Her teeth chattered from cold. I silently cursed her father.
“No, thank you, Miss Cooper.” She held up the package in her bare hands. “This here’s fish heads, and I don’t want to smell up your sleigh.”
“They won’t smell up my sleigh,” Alexander said. “This is a magic sleigh.”
She squinted up at him, then at the warm blankets. I could see in her eyes the struggle to decide. Instinctively, I knew it was fear of her father that kept her from climbing inside. He would question how she knew us, and then her precious secret would be known.
“We’ll take you as far as your driveway,” I said. “It’s on our way. You can jump out and walk the rest of the way to your house.”
She clutched her package to her chest. “Yes, all right. Just to the driveway.”
Alexander had already hopped down to help her. He lifted her into the seat next to Fiona and tucked a blanket around her shoulders. In comparison to my little sweetheart, Fiona, Louisa smelled of woodsmoke, lard, and dirty hair. The fish were the least of it.
“Lord Barnes,” I said as we set out. “Did you have any of that popcorn left?”
“Why yes, I do.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out the paper bag. “Louisa, would you like some?”
Her eyes grew wide. “You don’t want it?” I could practically sense her mouth start to water. I remembered the sensation only too well from my own childhood.
“Yes, Miss Louisa, it’s for you,” Alexander said as he handed it to her. “I’m getting quite fat, if you want to know the truth. You’ll be saving me from eating the rest.”
She giggled. “You’re not fat, Lord Barnes.”
For a second, she stared at the popcorn bag as if she distrusted the contents. Her forehead creased. “Maybe I should save it for Pa. He sent me to town because his stomach was empty and causing him pain.”
“I think it’d be best you eat it before we drop you,” I said, thinking quickly. “Otherwise, he’ll wonder where you got it.”
“Yes, Miss Cooper.” She opened the bag and reached inside, pulling out a handful and stuffing it in her mouth. I decided against the lesson on manners. When a child was as hungry as Louisa, the last thing she needed was me lecturing her about how a young lady should eat popped corn.
I exchanged a look with Alexander before he clicked the reins and the horses began to trot. After a moment, I turned to Louisa. A path of tears had streaked her dirty face. She’d been crying.
She’d been in town to beg for fish heads from the Higgins brothers and had seen us all skating. I remembered the pang of jealousy; the awful sour feeling in the pit of my stomach; the sensation of acceptance that everyone in the world had more than I and always would. Their laughter and bright coats were swords that had slashed through me and cut away any hope that I belonged. I was on the outside of a world where there were such luxuries as a full stomach and ice-skating.
I kept all this to myself. But for all that was holy, this child would have a pair of skates before next Saturday, even if I had to beg Alexander to return mine and get her a pair instead.
“What will you make with the fish?” I asked.
“Soup. I got some turnips down in the cellar.” She flashed her shy smile. “I grew them all by myself.”
“How clever of you,” I said. “Did you keep the seeds and starters from the year before?”
Her expression darkened. She looked away and dug into the popped corn bag with new vigor. I couldn’t be certain, but I suspected she’d stolen the turnip starters from Alexander’s garden. If only he’d known, I’m sure he would have gladly shared. Regardless, this child was a survivor. If she had to steal from a neighbor’s barn, then she would do it to stay alive.
Again, I silently cursed Kellam. What kind of man made his child steal for food so he could fritter away any of his wages at the saloon?
We were at the entrance to the driveway now. A puff of smoke above the tree line hinted at the house where Louisa lived with her father. She’d managed to empty the bag of popcorn, which had dimmed the glint of hunger in her eyes. I took the bag from her. If she took the evidence into the house, who knows what could happen?
Louisa jumped from the sleigh before Alexander could get out to help her. “Thank you for the ride.” And with that, she began her trudge through the snow toward the thicket of trees that hid their shack from the road.
Fiona didn’t wake when Alexander carried her into the house and up the stairs to the girls’ room. It was nearly three by then, and she usually took an hour and a half nap. I watched from the doorway as he took off her boots and covered her with a blanket. Moved by how gentle his large hands were as they brushed her curls away from her cheeks, I had to fight the lump in my throat.
When she was settled, Alexander nudged me into the hallway and shut the door behind us.
“Harley brought the Wu family over this morning,” he said. “Should we go down and say hello?”
I tugged at the collar of his jacket. “Maybe a kiss first? We’re all alone for once.”
He pulled me close. “I can’t think of a better idea.”
After a long kiss that left us both breathless, we headed downstairs. Before we took the stairs down to the kitchen, Alexander stopped me for another kiss.
Alexander introduced me to Mrs. Wu and Li as the schoolteacher, Miss Cooper. All very proper, which made me want to giggle after our kisses.
Mrs. Wu and Lizzie were at the island rolling out some kind of dough. Apparently, Lizzie had changed her mind about Mrs. Wu only looking after the girls. Given the delicious smell of the dumpling filling, I was pleased she’d done so.
“We’re making dumplings,” Lizzie said. “Mrs. Wu is teaching me her old family recipe.” Cooking didn’t require a shared language, I thought, as the two women seemed in perfect communication.
Li and Fai were at the table eating from steaming bowls of chicken soup. Despite their frayed clothing, the children’s hair was neatly combed and their faces clean. I sat next to them at the table. “I’m glad to meet you. Are you looking forward to school?”
“I’m not sure,” Li said. “I’ve never been, so I don’t know what to expect.”
“Do you like to learn and meet other kids?” I asked.
“I think so.”
“Then you’ll love school.” I turned to his little sister. “Did you know you’re going to have a friend to play with here at the house?”
She nodded as she scooped broth into her spoon.
“Lizzie told us,” Li said. “Grandmother was happy.”
Alexander joined us at the table, taking the chair next to me. “Li, please let me know if your grandmother needs anything.”
“Do we have to sleep on the beds?” Li asked quietly as he looked into his now-empty soup bowl.
“You don’t want to?” Alexander asked.
“At home we sleep on mats,” Li said.
“Whatever your grandmother tells you to do is fine with me,” Alexander said. “But I think you might like a bed.”
The kitchen door flew open and Flynn, Theo, and Cymbeline piled into the room, breathless and arguing over who was the fastest skater. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of Mrs. Wu.
“Good, you’re back,” Alexander said. “This is Mrs. Wu. She’s going to be working here with Lizzie. And these are Li and Fai.”
The Wu children looked at the Barnes siblings with fear in their eyes. Who wouldn’t? They were so robust and loud.
Cymbeline bounced over to get a better look. She pointed at Fai’s hair. “Shiny and smooth.”
Fai watched her but didn’t reply.
“I like it,” Cymbeline said as she ruffled her curls with her fingers to make it stand up. “My hair’s curly and I hate it.”
/> Fai let out a squeaky giggle. “No, pretty hair.”
Flynn sidled up next. “So you’re going to live here with us?” he asked Li.
“Yes.” Li pointed to door that led to the bedrooms. “In there.”
“Do you like baby pigs?” Cymbeline asked. “Because we have some.”
Li shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Flynn flopped into the chair next to Li. “Do you want to see them?” His voice was too loud, I thought. He’s going to frighten this poor child.
“I don’t know.” Li’s shoulders slumped as he looked around the table.
Theo had joined us by then. “We have a cow and chickens, too.” He spoke softly, as if he knew Flynn was a little too much.
“Cow,” Fai said with much enthusiasm. “I go.”
Poppy and Josephine came through the door next, carrying all the skates. “You all forgot your skates in the sleigh,” Josephine said before stopping to stare at Mrs. Wu.
Li looked at me as if to say, “How many are there?”
“There’s a lot of them,” I said to Li. “You’ll grow accustomed to their noise.”
Alexander introduced the Wus to Josephine and Poppy. They smiled politely at Mrs. Wu, then came to the table to inspect the children.
“Poppy and I will take the little ones out to the barn if it’s okay with Mrs. Wu.”
Li spoke to Mrs. Wu in Chinese. She responded back, nodding her head. “She says we can go look at the pigs.”
“Great. Daylight’s burning. We need to go now, or it’ll be too dark to see anything.” Flynn bounced up from the table.
“Put the skates in the mudroom,” I said. “All of you, Flynn, not just the girls.”
“Give them here,” Flynn said to his sister.
They all left in a mad rush, Flynn and Cymbeline fighting about who could show Li what first and Josephine holding tight to Fai’s hand.
“I think I’ll stay inside.” Theo slumped against the back of a chair.
“Do you feel all right, Theo?” I asked.
“My throat hurts,” he said.
I motioned for him to come closer and then felt his forehead. “He’s warm,” I said to Alexander.
The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Book 1) Page 21
