Pearl (37 page)

‘‘What a story.’’

Ruby waited, stroking Cat and looking off into the distance.

There’s something more,
Pearl thought as she watched. The half-grown gray kitten approached her, so she leaned down and picked it up. Snuggling the cat under her chin, she thought back to her first day of school.

Twelve pupils had filed in, led by Opal, who showed them where to sit—the smaller children in front and Atticus, along with the eldest Robertson girl and Opal, in the back.

‘‘Welcome all of you to our first day of school here in Little Missouri,’’ she had said in greeting. ‘‘My name is Miss Hossfuss, and I used to teach in Chicago, Illinois. I’d like each of you to stand, tell us your name, how old you are, and how many years you’ve been to school. Opal, let’s start with you.’’

‘‘I am Opal Torvald, I am eleven years old, and I started school when I was five, so it’s been six years, but we didn’t have a real school last year, so only five.’’

‘‘I am Edith Robertson, and I am thirteen. I went to school for five years before we moved out here. My mother has been teaching us at home.’’

The boy stood to his feet. ‘‘I am Atticus Grady, fifteen, and I ain’t never been to school, and I’m too old to be here now.’’ His dark brows nearly made a line above a straight nose, giving him a menacing look.

The other children followed suit down to the youngest Robertson, Ada Mae. ‘‘I am five, and my mother said I am not old enough to come, but I can already read and do sums, so she let me. I can stay, can’t I, teacher?’’

‘‘We shall see. Now I am going to pass a book around, and I want each of you to read aloud so that I can get an idea of what your skills are.’’

‘‘I kin shoot better’n my pa,’’ Atticus stated.

‘‘Atticus, in school you do not speak unless you are spoken to. In order to speak, you must ask permission by raising your hand and waiting until the teacher calls your name.’’

She could still feel the glower he had sent her way.

They all had eaten their dinners out on the front porch, most of them bringing their food in a lard pail. Atticus sat by himself. The two younger boys sat away from the girls.

By the end of the day she’d had a pretty good idea of where the children would fit. Having never taught all grades before and all in one room, she knew she was in for a challenging year.

Leaving thoughts of school behind, Pearl set the rocker to creaking again. Such a friendly sound.

‘‘My father made me promise to watch out for the girls,’’ Ruby said.

‘‘You mean Cimarron and Daisy?’’

‘‘And Belle and Milly. But Milly wasn’t really one of them.’’

‘‘One of them?’’

‘‘Soiled doves.’’

‘‘You mean ladies of the night?’’ Pearl nearly choked on the words.

‘‘Yes, only I had no idea what Cimarron was talking about when she tried to explain the realities of life here to me. I was packing to leave when Opal reminded me of my promise. She’d already fallen in love with it here.’’

‘‘I never would have guessed if you hadn’t told me. What amazing changes you have made here.’’ And no wonder the other townswomen are so standoffish.
Ah, Ruby. Dear sweet Ruby, what a
life you’ve led
.

‘‘I think back to what our lives would have been had we stayed in New York with the Brandons. So protected. But here, well, Opal would sum it up in one word.’’

‘‘Horses?’’

‘‘That’s right.’’

‘‘I got my homework done.’’ Opal pushed open the screen door. ‘‘Why are you sitting out here in the almost dark?’’

‘‘Because it is so peaceful.’’ Ruby looked up. ‘‘See the evening star?’’

‘‘Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. . . .’’ The others joined Pearl. ‘‘I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.’’

Pearl closed her eyes.
I wish I might have a letter from my family.
Please, Lord, not just a wish but a prayer, a plea
.

‘‘What’s that sound I hear?’’ The rhythmic
kerchunk
had been sounding for some time.

‘‘Oh, you missed out on the good news today.’’ Ruby dumped Cat on the floor. ‘‘The new sewing machine came.’’

‘‘Sewing machine?’’

‘‘You remember the surprise I talked about a couple weeks ago that was coming on the train, and it never did?’’

‘‘Yes, but I’d forgotten all about it.’’ The kitten joined Cat, and they both paraded to the door, tails straight in the air.

‘‘We set it up by the window in the storeroom—no place else to put it. Cimarron is learning how to run it. Come see it.’’

Two kerosene lamps stood on shelves on either side of the wooden cabinet with a black treadle apparatus underneath. With her feet, Cimarron rocked the treadle that powered the machine. The needle flew up and down, flashing in the lamplight.

‘‘I’ve never sewn anything so fast in all my life.’’ Cimarron held up a string of two-inch squares she’d sewn, leaving space in between to cut the thread. ‘‘I can make a quilt top in an afternoon this way.’’

‘‘How did you know how to work it?’’ Pearl leaned closer to the light, turning the seams each way to see the even stitching.

‘‘I saw one in action one time, but never dreamed I’d get to sew on one. All that mending . . .’’ Cimarron shook her head and held up her fingers to the light. ‘‘See all those poke holes? No more. I’ll have more time for other things because the sewing won’t take so long. You need a new skirt, honeybun, and I can’t wait to make it.’’

‘‘You can help me with the ironing then.’’ Daisy folded the last tablecloth for the day. ‘‘If those men would be more careful with their cigars, we’d have less mending to do. Holes in the bed sheets even. They don’t be careful, they’re going to burn the house down around our ears.’’

‘‘Daisy, don’t you go even thinking such a thing.’’ Ruby nodded, then added, ‘‘I think it is time to put No Smoking signs in the bedrooms. If we catch someone smoking up there, they get shown the door.’’

‘‘My land, are you going to hear it over this.’’ Daisy moved the stack of folded tablecloths to the shelf. ‘‘We get any more stuff in here, there won’t be room to turn around.’’

Atticus didn’t show up for school the second day. His little brother, Robert, announced that his father needed Atticus to help on the farm with busting sod.

‘‘Then you must learn and teach him. Tell him that when winter comes and they can’t work the ground, he is welcome to return.’’

‘‘Yes, ma’am, but I don’t think missin’ school made him sad or nothin’. Atticus don’t like to be cooped up.’’

By Thursday Pearl had figured out the patterns for the day in order to keep everyone busy. The older children worked on their own while she helped the beginners, then Opal and Edith took turns helping the little ones while Pearl taught the next level. The days passed so swiftly she hardly got around to everyone before it was time for recess, then dinner, and then dismissal.

‘‘You got a letter, Pearl,’’ Ruby said when school broke for dinner on Friday. ‘‘It’s in on the counter.’’

Pearl made her way through the dining room, where only a few tables were occupied, since construction was in full swing in Medora.

The sight of Amalia’s handwriting made her step lighten as she ignored the briefest wish that it was her father’s handwriting she’d see. She took the envelope to the back porch where there was a modicum of silence while the children played in the front of the hotel. She broke the wax seal with her fingernail and pulled out two pages.

My dearest Pearl,

How we rejoiced to receive your letter. When you left, I implored your father to seek after you and make sure you were all right, but until you wrote, we hardly knew where to begin. Yes, in answer to your question, your father is still angry. I think mostly because he has to see Mr. Longstreet every day. As he reminded me, a contract between gentlemen is a bond, and you broke his bond. But he has not forbidden me to write to you, not that it would have done much good. He still loves you, and I do believe that one day he will be willing to forgive. In the meantime, you can be sure I will keep you informed.

We are all well. The children send their love. I know Jorge Jr. must have had a hand in your departure, but other than directing laughing eyes at me when I asked, he has been a model of silence, at least in that regard.

Pearl stopped to blow her nose, unaware that she’d been crying.

If there is anything you need, you must let me know, and I will put it on the first train west. The place you are living sounds like a real adventure for you. I do hope your school is all that you desired.

She included more news about her social activities before ending.

I pray that all is well with you, that you are in good health, and that all is well with your soul. Please write soon and tell us about life on the frontier.

Love and blessings from your family, and most of all from your mother.

Amalia Hossfuss.

Pearl wiped eyes and nose, folded the missive, and put it in her pocket. She would read it to Ruby later, but right now it was time to call the children back to class.

When she stood, her body seemed lighter.
Thank you, Lord, for
hearing my wish, my prayer. My family doesn’t hate me. Oh, thank you,
they don’t hate me
.

After church on Sunday Carl Hegland came up to Pearl. ‘‘Good morning, Miss Hossfuss.’’

‘‘And to you, Mr. Hegland.’’

‘‘I was wondering if you would like to go for a walk along the river this afternoon. After dinner, I mean.’’

‘‘Why, I would love to. Should I bring
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
?’’

‘‘If you like. Do you have John Donne? If not, we could trade.’’

‘‘That will be very nice.’’

Rand sat with them at the dinner table, as did Jed Black, so Pearl mostly ate and listened, learning much about ranching and building. She noted that Carl Hegland was a man very content with what he did and proud of his work. As he teased Jed Black about something from the job, she also saw a pleasant sense of humor.

After dinner they began their walk, quietly enjoying the warm fall day. Pearl was the first to break the companionable silence. ‘‘So what is your favorite poem in this book?’’ She held the John Donne volume up.

Pearl flipped to the page and began reading. ‘‘Batter my heart, three person’d God.’’

Carl joined in and recited it along with her. ‘‘. . . Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste except you ravish me.’’

‘‘Mr. Hegland, you have a wonderful voice.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’ He ducked his head slightly. ‘‘I’ve thought about what you said, about singing with the choir, that is. I think I would like to do that.’’

‘‘I know they would love to have you.’’ They walked on past the big cottonwood and up the riverbank, the water low now, since there’d not been rain for several weeks.

To think, I am here, walking with a man as though I’ve done so all
my life, and we are talking about books and music. Could this be the one,
this silent man, or so I thought at first?