Love's Story (35 page)

“A few of the men saw you walking into town with the new schoolteacher,” Jeremiah remarked.

“Miss Phillips got into a little trouble in the forest. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention it, I think it would embarrass her.” Chase tried to keep his voice level, but the mere mention of her name sent his heart racing.

“Well, a word of warning: The whole town is talking, even here in Portola.”

With all the wild happenings of the area, Chase couldn't imagine why the town would take such an interest in so minute an event. Then again, women like Rachel Phillips were not a common occurrence, and her actions were certain to be monitored.

“I appreciate the information, Jeremiah. Thanks. If you've got everything under control here, I'm going to head back to the mill.” Chase turned and walked away, his head hanging low in thought as he processed this piece of information. He hoped the incident wouldn't start any trouble for Miss Phillips.

“Sure thing, Chase.” Jeremiah set back to work.

The new schoolteacher was much more relaxed on her second day of school. She had managed the children well on her first day, and it had granted her confidence. Rachel still wondered how she would learn all thirty-four names, but hoped it would happen before the other eight students returned for the remainder of the school year.

Rachel had seated the children by a combination of age and alphabetical order, and she studied her chart intensely while the group read to themselves. Although she had been warned, the young teacher was surprised by how much planning each day would demand and how short the attention span of the younger children was.

She had been up well past dark, with the aid of her kerosene lamp, preparing for the day's lessons, and by the end of the day her eyelids were beginning to droop. The children were excused, and Rachel closed her eyes and sighed heavily at the thought of preparing for the next day.

“Miss Phillips?” Veronica Thorne stood before her teacher.

“Yes, Veronica, what is it?”

“Miss Phillips, I would like to ask a favor of you.”

“I'll do what I'm able.”

“I'm sixteen years old now, nearly seventeen actually, and I'm to be married. My fiancé, Jeremiah Smith, has just been promoted to lead faller in Portola Valley. And, well, only a bullmaster makes more. So, he's ready to take a bride. And… well, as a faller's wife, I hardly think I need more educatin'.”

Rachel looked at the young girl in disbelief. After a brief pause she answered, “What is it you'd like from me, Veronica?”

“I'd like you to talk to my ma. You're friends and all, and I thought you could tell her I don't need more schoolin'.”

“I'm sorry, Veronica, but I can't tell your mother such a thing in good conscience.”

“Why ever not?”

“Veronica, how many years have you been in school?”

“Over four!” Veronica answered powerfully, four slender fingers rising up.

“Veronica, I don't mean to be insensitive, but I think you need to hear this. Think about how many widows live
alone
in Searsville. Not just the widows, think of the women who live alone for nine months of the year while their husbands are working at the mills. A woman alone must know her sums and read well to manage on her own. Are you prepared to do this alone?” Rachel studied the young woman's face, hoping she had made her point.

“But Miss Phillips, I wouldn't live alone. Jeremiah works for Chase Dylan in Portola, so he'd be home every evening.” The girl's own words made her blush, and her eyes darted from her teacher.

“I'm very happy to hear that, Veronica. However, what if God should have different plans for you?” Rachel searched for Veronica's eyes, but the girl refused to meet her gaze.

“Whatever do you mean? I'm to be married, I already told ya.” Veronica tossed her long, loose hair, twirling a piece carelessly around her pinkie.

Rachel lowered her voice. “Veronica, I did not plan to become a teacher, I truly feel God's hand made the choice for me. Now I am so glad He did. You have the chance to become educated, so please don't miss the opportunity. Just think how pleased Jeremiah will be, knowing he has a wife who can care for him and his home.” Rachel inadvertently brushed her fingers across her teaching certificate, displayed proudly upon her desk.

Veronica let the words sink in. “I don't see a benefit to another year, but I can see you're not willin' to help me.”

“Miss Phillips?” Rachel was startled by the familiar voice of Chase Dylan, who bent to fit through the doorway of the small schoolhouse. She was surprised at how happy his appearance made her. She stood up quickly, straightening her skirt; she hoped he didn't notice the redness in her cheeks.

“Mr. Dylan, do come in,” Rachel said with enthusiasm.

“I'm on my way to pick up Henry for our evening out; I just wanted to stop by and let you know there's a letter for you at the post.” Rachel was oddly disappointed that he had only come to deliver a message.

“A letter?” she asked. She realized distractedly again how handsome he was in a gallant yet rugged sort of way.

“I believe it's from San Francisco.” Chase gave a smile, nodded, and left.

“Excuse me, Veronica.” Rachel rushed out the door and hurried up Main Street, toward the post office.

Veronica ran out of the schoolhouse behind Rachel and followed Chase. “Mr. Dylan… oh, Mr. Dylan!” she yelled louder.

Chase turned and smiled. “Hello, Veronica. How are you this fine afternoon?”

“I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Dylan. I was wondrin' if you might help me with sumthin'.”

“If I can, I certainly will.”

Veronica shifted the toe of her shoe in the dirt. “I don't know if Jeremiah's had a chance ta tell you, but we're plannin' ta be married.”

“Yes, Jeremiah's told me, and I'm very happy for both of you. A summer wedding, I suppose?”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I will make a good wife, Mr. Dylan. I know how ta cook and keep a nice house. I even know how to grow a garden.”

“That's wonderful, Veronica.” Chase still thought of Veronica as a little girl. It was disconcerting to realize she was a woman now. He was himself only twenty-eight, but this was making him feel ancient.

“So do you think you might tell my ma that I don't need more schoolin'? I mean, you could tell her how much money Jeremiah makes and then she'd have to let me quit.”

“Have you spoken with Jeremiah about this?” Chase's question unnerved the girl and she fidgeted before answering.

“Jeremiah said he's ready to get married and so am I. So why should I have to sit in some schoolroom with a bunch of children for another year?” she whined.

“Veronica, this is really not an issue for me to decide.”

“Mr. Dylan, I'm not an old maid like Miss Phillips; what do I need school fer?”

Chase clenched his teeth and kept himself from speaking his mind to this spoiled young girl. He wanted to tell her how obviously she needed more education, but he took a few seconds and calmed down before adding, “Veronica, what Jeremiah makes for his living is his business. If he chooses to share that information with your mother, that's fine, but it's really not my place.”

Veronica's face was red with frustration, “So you won't help us either?”

“I'm afraid I cannot,” Chase stated calmly.

Veronica stormed off in the direction of Eikerenkotter's Hotel, and Chase, in a quandary, watched her before continuing on his way.

There was a line at the post office when Rachel arrived. Sawyers in their work clothes were anxious to see if there were any letters for them. Rachel's toe was tapping nervously as she waited behind the loggers. Finally, it was her turn. The clerk knowingly reached for a letter from a series of wooden boxes behind the counter and handed it to the town's teacher with a smile. “Welcome to Searsville, Miss Phillips.”

“Thank you. Oh, thank you!” Rachel beamed with happiness as she held the letter. She ripped it open anxiously and cried as she saw a little purple footprint at the base of the letter. Rachel's mother must have dipped Georgie's foot in berries and stamped the stationery.

“That must be quite a letter. From a beau, perhaps?” Mrs. Steele's sweet voice lacked sincerity, but Rachel was determined not to make an enemy of the widow. She did not want to be the topic of this week's sewing circle.

“It's from my mother. See here?” Rachel thrust the letter in front of Mrs. Steele. “This is my baby brother's footprint. Have you ever seen anything so precious?” Rachel's voice broke.

“No, I most certainly haven't,” Mrs. Steele droned.

Mrs. Steele's sarcasm was intolerable. Rachel pocketed her letter and decided she would wait until she was home to read it. She wanted to relish every word, and Mrs. Steele's presence would make that impossible.

“Good day, Mrs. Steele,” Rachel said with a forced smile.

“Oh Miss Phillips, will we see you tonight at the quilting meeting?”

“That's right, it's Tuesday. I'm afraid not, I have lessons to prepare,” she concluded with finality.

“What a
pity
.” Mrs. Steele's tone indicated that Rachel would not be asked back to the weekly quilting parties.

What a relief,
she thought. Rachel picked up her skirt and rushed home, anxious to devour her mother's handwritten words.

“What a day,” Chase sighed to himself as he was approaching the Steele residence to pick up Henry for their evening together. First, Jeremiah had let him know he'd caused a small scandal by walking with Rachel from the woods, then he was accosted by Veronica. And now he was on his way to deal with Gretchen Steele.

There had been a brief moment when the day seemed like it might redeem itself; Rachel had seemed happy to see him. However, after his own meeting with Veronica, he suspected she was just relieved to have been interrupted. Henry caught sight of Chase through the window and came running.