Romancing the Schoolteacher (2 page)

* * *

Later that evening, Lindley finished cooking the simple meal of scrambled eggs and slightly burned pancakes for supper. His children didn't seem to mind. Or at least, neither of them said anything about his cooking ability. He couldn't prepare much, but his children never went hungry. They sat, bowed their heads, and he thanked the good Lord for the food.

“I want to go to school,” Dora announced after the blessing.

“You can't,” Gabe shot back.

“But I want to go. Please, Papa.”

Lindley smiled at her, liking her enthusiasm. “I'm sorry. You're too young yet. School is for older children.”

“But I
am
older.”

He ruffled Dora's blond hair. “Yes, you are. But not quite old enough.”

Dora tilted her head. “Teacher said.”

Images of chestnut hair and eyes the color of the forest flitted through his mind. And the smile she had bestowed upon him and his children. Something had happened to him in that moment, but he couldn't determine what. The last thing he needed right now was to be thinking about the schoolteacher. He had a job to do and needed to devote his attention to that.

“Papa. Teacher said.”

He focused back on his daughter. “I know, but Miss Greene has a lot of pupils to teach. Besides, Mrs. Weston is going to look after you. Now, eat your supper before it gets cold.”

His daughter made a pouty face before digging into her pancakes.

Dora appeared to forget all about school for the rest of the evening. For that, he was grateful, and it allowed him to think of things other than the pretty schoolteacher.

Being on their own was going to be good for all three of them. Just him, Gabe and Dora without one sister or another trying to abscond with his children to make life easier for him. Their help only served to make him feel empty and abandoned. His family needed to realize he had the ability to keep Gabe and Dora fed and well cared for without interference. Though his family meant well, they made him feel incompetent as a parent. He needed to prove to them, as well as himself, he
was
capable.

He glanced around the pocket-size dwelling. It couldn't be more than fifteen feet square. His bed on one side of the room and a second on the opposite wall, with a small cooking stove and a square eating table down the middle. If his sisters or even his parents saw this hovel, they would be here in a snap to rescue Gabe and Dora. But they were
his
children, and
he
would see to their well-being.

He dressed them for bed, and they climbed under the quilts of their shared bed, a straw mattress on the floor. Gabe's head at one end and Dora's poking out from the other.

Dora snuggled down and flopped her arms on top of the covers. “Tell us a story, Papa.”

Gabe nodded.

“Once upon a time, there were two curious bunnies, a brother bunny and a sister bunny.”

“A princess, Papa, a princess.”

“And a dragon,” Gabe said.

Lindley looked from his son to his daughter. “Once upon a time, there was a princess.”

“Was she beautiful, Papa?”

“Of course. She had chestnut hair and eyes the color of the forest.” He pictured the schoolteacher. Oops. Oh, well. He was sure his children wouldn't make the connection. “She was walking along when she came to an enchanted garden. Low hedgerows separated the different varieties of flowers—pinks, yellows, blues, purples, reds, oranges, whites and clear. But these were not like any flowers she'd seen before. The flowers were made of glass. She didn't know this garden was guarded by an army of dragonflies. So when she picked a pink-and-purple bloom, a swarm of dragonflies swooped in and carried her off to a cave where a big dragon lived.”

By the time Lindley finished his tale, Dora's eyes were closed, and Gabe's eyelids were drooping. He kissed them each on the forehead and headed for his own bed.

So much for not thinking of the schoolteacher. But what was the harm?

T
he next morning, Bridget rang the school bell, and her students crowded into the classroom. She loved the children. Her first year teaching in Roche Harbor, she had thought she was blessed with an exceptional class of students who all wanted to learn.

She soon discovered that many of the older children would rather be in school than working in the mines. Their mind-set transferred down to the younger ones. She didn't care why her students were eager. She loved filling their minds with as much knowledge as possible for as long as they were in her charge. It broke her heart when good students were taken out of school to go to work. It just wasn't fair.

Her new pupil, Gabe Thompson, stood at the back of the room, waiting for a place to sit. What kind of student would he be?

Bridget put her hand on his small shoulder and guided him up the aisle to the front of the room. “Class, quiet down.” When all the students had taken their seats and given her their attention, she spoke. “Class, this is Gabe.”

“Hi, Gabe,” the class said in unison.

“I expect you all to make him feel welcome. Daniel, please stand up.”

The boy did. He was also seven. She hoped the boys could forge a friendship. “Gabe will sit next to you. I expect you to help him out until he gets his bearings.”

Gabe took his seat next to Daniel. He was quite attentive in the first morning section, taking his turn reading aloud and answering questions. A bright boy for his age. She would need to test him to determine his math and reading levels as well as his potential.

After an hour and a half, she released the children to play outdoors. The sun shone brightly on this crisp spring day.

She pulled her shawl closer as she watched her students frolicking in the school yard. The exercise was good for their learning process. She liked watching them interact with one another and took particular interest in those who sat alone. Today there were none.

The younger boys looked up to Troy and gathered around him. He liked the attention but kept casting glances toward Olivia.

Bridget hated to stop the fun, but she rang the handbell for the students to return to the classroom. They filed in, and she brought up the tail end. She strode up the aisle as her pupils settled into their seats. All twenty-two of them, including
two
four-year-olds. She crouched in front of the pair of girls. Aggie wiggled in her seat.

The other girl smiled up at her. “I'm in school.”

“I see that. Your name is Dora, isn't it?”

The girl nodded eagerly.

“I thought your father had someone looking after you.”

Dora shrugged. “She couldn't watch me. I came to school. You said I could.”

She had obviously arrived during recess.

Gabe appeared next to them. “You aren't s'posed to be here.”

Dora stiffened her shoulders. “Am too. Teacher said I could.”

Bridget supposed it would be all right, if the woman couldn't watch the girl. A child her age couldn't very well be at home alone. “It's all right, Gabe. She can stay.” Bridget turned back to Dora. She couldn't just send her away on her own. “You have to sit still and be quiet so the other students can learn, too.”

Dora nodded eagerly.

* * *

Lindley pumped the bellows that fanned the fire in the lime kiln. Even though the day was cool, sweat ran down his face and soaked his clothes. If they didn't have the kiln hot enough, they couldn't change the limestone into quicklime and then hydrate it into slaked lime for masonry work. He was in the learning stages of the job, but he'd read up on the process of lime mining, so he knew a bit of what to expect and how things should be done. Gary Bennett, the man who was instructing him, gave him occasional nods of approval.

A commotion in the yard caught everyone's attention. Some hysterical woman.

Then the foreman called, “Thompson, get over here.”

Lindley handed over the bellows arm to Mr. Bennett and trotted to the foreman. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped short. “Mrs. Weston, what are you doing here? Is Dora all right?”

The heavyset woman had dried tears on her cheeks. “She's gone.” She took in a shuddered breath. “I took my eyes off her for two seconds. I've looked everywhere. She isn't anywhere to be found.”

Dora? Not his little girl. He should have left his children with his parents or older sister, Rachel, when they'd offered. But he had insisted on having them with him. He'd never been separated from them and couldn't imagine being so for months. And now his baby was in danger.

Tears filled Mrs. Weston's eyes. “I won't be responsible for a child who runs off. You'll have to find someone else to look after her. If you find her.” She turned on her heel and strode away.

The woman had seemed competent, but now he wondered. She couldn't even keep track of one little girl.

The lunch bell rang, and men gathered around. One of them asked, “What is it, Thompson?”

“My daughter is missing.”

Soon, the men he'd worked with for only a few hours had formed search parties of twos.

“But it's your lunch break.” These men needed the rest after how hard they worked. Arduous physical labor. These men didn't even know him, yet they were not only willing to help, they were eager.

“A child is missing. Lunch can wait.”

As the men dispersed, the foreman called out, “Be back by the end of the break!”

The man who had swiftly organized searchers paired up with him, and they headed back to Mrs. Weston's home. The man held out his hand. “I'm Marcus.”

Lindley took the offered hand. “Lindley.”

“How old is your little one?”

“Four.”

Marcus shook his head. “Too young to be off on her own in a town she doesn't know. And too young for school.”

“School?” Lindley spun around and took off running.

Marcus caught up to him. “You have an idea?”

“She whined last night and again this morning about not being able to go to school with her brother.” When the one-room schoolhouse was in sight, he ran faster and burst through the door.

All heads turned. All eyes were on him.

His attention was captured for a moment by the lovely green-eyed teacher. “My daughter. Is she here?”

Miss Greene pointed to the front row.

Dora turned and waved. “I'm in school, Papa.”

Lindley hurried to the front and scooped her up in his arms. “You're
safe
.”

Marcus clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Your daughter?”

Lindley nodded.

“I'll tell the others and call off the search,” Marcus said as he turned to leave.

Lindley hoped Marcus and the other men still had time to eat their lunches.

“Search?” Miss Greene asked. “Dora said the woman couldn't look after her. I thought you'd sent her here.”

“No, she ran off.” He pulled Dora away from his shoulder so he could look her in the face. “Why did you run off?”

Dora pointed her finger and looked indignant. “I wanted to go to school.” As if that was a perfectly acceptable reason for running off without telling Mrs. Weston.

“Don't you point your little finger at me. You never ever run away from the person I have set to look after you. Do you understand?”

Dora nodded. “But I had to go to school. Teacher said I could be here.”

Miss Greene nodded over Dora's head so he could see but not his daughter.

Lindley got lost in the teacher's green eyes but quickly shook himself free. He'd come to find his daughter. And come to Roche Harbor for a job, nothing more. The schoolteacher had her own job to tend to. “I'm sorry for disturbing your class. If it truly is all right for Dora to stay—but just for today—that would be helpful. I
will
make other arrangements for her care.”

“You do what you feel is best for your daughter. But it is quite all right for her to stay if you choose. She and Aggie are getting on well.”

He hated to reward his daughter's disobedience but had few options. “Thank you.” But this teacher had her hands full already with her classroom of all different ages. He would try to convince Mrs. Weston to take Dora during the day. He headed back to work with visions of the red-haired schoolteacher dancing in his head. Her sweet smile and agreeable nature warmed his heart.

* * *

As the other students filed out the door at the end of the school day, Bridget asked Gabe and Dora to stay. She squatted down to the boy's level. “Do you and your sister have someplace to go after school?”

The boy shrugged. “Mrs. Weston's?”

She knew the woman. She loved babies but could be impatient with older children, especially ones who asserted their own wills. So if Mrs. Weston wasn't able to watch Dora, then she wasn't likely able to watch both children after school until their father got off work. “How would the two of you like to come to my house until your father is done with work and comes to get you?”

Both children nodded. Gabe beamed a smile, and Dora hugged her.

“Let me write a note for your father. Then we will leave. Go ahead and take a seat until I'm ready.” She wrote the note, telling Mr. Thompson that she had taken his children home with her. And then she wrote her address.

Oh, dear. What if Mr. Thompson couldn't read? Just because he sent his children to school, and Gabe was obviously bright and could read, didn't mean he could. She had several students with more education than their parents, parents who'd never gone to school and couldn't read. So she drew a map to her house on the bottom of the paper.

“Let's go.” She gathered up her satchel and ushered the children out and to her house three blocks away.

* * *

Dusk loomed as Lindley approached the schoolhouse. When Mrs. Weston had quit this morning, he hadn't thought about where his children would go after school until he'd finished work. What would his sisters say about that? He wouldn't tell them. He hoped Gabe and Dora were still at the school.