Carol Ritten Smith Page 14

  Minutes later Davy returned bouncing wildly. “Beth, guess what! In the spring, Tom’s going to get a puppy and I can help train him. Isn’t that great?”

  “Hmm.” Was it? She couldn’t help worry Tom would use the time together to pump Davy for information.

  Tom set the pails of water on the backbench, hanging the ladle from the lip of one. “I thought it was time I got another dog for company.”

  Beth nodded. Maybe she was being unnecessarily suspicious. Maybe Tom was getting a puppy because he was lonely. And maybe he included Davy in his plans, not to interrogate him, but merely because he had a soft spot for her brother. No matter his motive, Beth knew without a doubt that Tom cared deeply for Davy. It was probably the only thing she and Tom had in common. She wondered, in light of his fondness for Davy, if Tom would turn her over to the authorities if he discovered the truth.

  She dared not risk finding out.

  “Is there anything else you need before I go?” Tom asked.

  It surprised her she almost wished there was, but she could easily manage the rest of the morning preparations. She shook her head. “Thank you for starting the fire and hauling the water.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, walking to the door. On his way out, he mentioned casually over his shoulder, “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

  “If you like,” she answered indifferently. She didn’t want him to think she needed his help. Still, it was awfully convenient having someone take care of the more arduous morning chores.

  As she transcribed the lessons onto the blackboard, she couldn’t help but smile. It was rather nice to have someone pamper her a little, even if it was because she had a sprained ankle. Hard to believe that night was over a week ago when everything was still so clear in her memory. His hands had been so gentle when he had tended her foot, his lips so tender when he kissed her. She remembered how their breath had joined in a single sigh and —

  Boom! The loud report from a shotgun nearly deafened Beth. She dropped to her knees fearing a second shot might come through a window. She heard a high-pitched whistle and then, boom! Splatters of blue dappled her dress and the floor about her.

  Oh no! The ink! She jumped up and, using the hem of her skirt to protect her fingers, quickly rescued the remaining bottles of ink from the stovetop. She looked about the room with dismay. Blue ink on the floor. Blue ink on the desks. Blue ink on her dress. Why? Why? Why couldn’t she get though one day without a major mishap?

  • • •

  Tom came by the next morning, did the chores and left without one word or smart aleck remark about the ink splotches on the floor. Beth was pleasantly surprised. The students however were more than happy to poke fun at their teacher and Beth good- naturedly let them.

  Tom returned the next morning and the next until Beth presumed he would do it regularly, or at least until her ankle completely healed. She began to look forward to seeing him each morning, enjoying his company far more than she ever thought possible. Still, she remained guarded.

  The Thursday morning of the third week, Davy was outside making fox and goose tracks in the fresh snow, leaving Tom alone with Beth in the school. Beth stood on tiptoe before a makeshift bookcase, rearranging books.

  “What are you doing?” Tom asked as he shut the door to the stove. It clanged into place.

  “I’m just making room for the new readers.” She resumed her task of transferring the rarely used books to the top shelf. Her hand froze in mid-air, then slowly came down to her side as she became nervously aware of Tom’s presence behind her.

  “Here, let me.” He stepped closer until his legs brushed the back of her skirt. “What other books do you want moved?”

  Books? “Uh, just this one.” There were more, but his intimate proximity made her jittery and anxious.

  Tom popped the book onto the shelf and straightened them all, pulling them even with the front edge of the bookcase. All the while, his chest brushed against her hair, causing irrational thoughts to bounce inside her head. When he finished, his hands dropped to her shoulders, and his thumbs lightly rubbed the tight base of her neck.

  “You’re tense, Beth. Do I make you nervous?”

  Yes, very. “No,” she replied rather shakily. “Why should you?”

  “Well, because I’m a man and you’re a woman and we’re all alone.” His thumbs ran up the soft hairs of her neck, stopping at the base of her chignon. One by one, he pulled out the hair pins, freeing her hair.

  “Tom, what are you doing? Don’t,” she whispered breathlessly, wondering why she couldn’t speak louder, wondering even more why she didn’t reach up to stop him. Instead, she closed her eyes, savoring the tingly feeling as his fingers drew through her tresses.

  “Leave it long today, Beth, for me.” His voice was gravelly as if he, too, were having difficulty speaking.

  “But I look older with it up,” she protested weakly.

  Tom gently turned her by the shoulders to face him, and she couldn’t draw her eyes away from the half smile playing on his lips. “Now, why would you want to look older? For the children? In case you didn’t know, kids think their teachers are old no matter their age. And you can’t be trying to fool me because I already know. You’re nineteen. Far too young for an old man like me.” As he spoke, his hand caressed her nape, lowering his face to hers until his peppermint breath blew cool upon her blazing cheeks.

  His mouth covered hers, gently at first until a quiet moan escaped between her lips. Hmm, magic again, she thought and she raised her head, seeking more. And more he gave. Each time his lips touched hers, he lingered longer. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. He gently nipped at her upper lip, her lower lip. His big hands gently cupped the sides of her head, tilting it this way and that as he covered her mouth with his. Soon his kisses intensified.

  Beth’s heart slammed against her chest, and her breathing became labored. Her knees felt rubbery and she leaned against Tom for support. This kiss was so urgent, so demanding. So exquisite.

  “Beth,” Tom whispered against her lips, “I should have done this earlier,” and he resumed his ardent kisses.

  At that same moment, the Waterbury heater clanged, abruptly returning Beth to her schoolteacher self. What was she doing? She worked her hands up between their bodies, and pushed on his chest.

  “Tom, stop. This isn’t right.” She was almost breathless.

  “Why isn’t it?” he asked, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, distracting her so much she wondered herself why it wasn’t. “We’re only kissing, Beth. How can it be wrong to kiss someone you like. And you like me.” He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “I know you do.”

  “But what if we get caught? I could lose my job.”

  “We’re not going to get caught. I’m a school trustee. It makes sense I should be helping with the chores. Now kiss me,” he commanded gently. “Don’t be frightened of me.”

  It wasn’t Tom who frightened her. And it wasn’t necessarily being caught. It was her body’s intense reaction to what Tom had referred to as only kissing. He made her want more and that worried her. “Davy could come in,” she whispered. Even to her, it sounded such a feeble excuse.

  “No, he’s busy throwing snowballs. I can see him from here.”

  “But the other children will be arriving soon and I still have the copy work to print on the board.”

  Tom smiled devilishly. “All right, Miss Patterson, I’ll make you a deal. Kiss me once more and then I’ll leave. I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Just one kiss? That’s all?”

  “If that’s all you’ll give me, then yes, one kiss.”

  She shouldn’t, yet a sense of earthy excitement flooded through her body and told her she should. One kiss. What could be the harm in that? And he promised he’d leave immediately after she kissed him. Heaven knows how long he might wait if she didn’t, and then her copy work would never get done. The children relied on her, and so her mind twisted th
e situation around until she felt it was her duty as the teacher to kiss him.

  Tom stood motionless. She tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders, pulled him forward slightly and stood on tip-toe. Their eyes met and his burned with such intensity Beth felt compelled to close hers. She pressed her mouth against his, copying how he had kissed her. She wasn’t ready to trace her tongue along his lips, although just the thought of it made her feel weak in the knees again.

  A few seconds later, she pulled back, half expecting him to pressure her for more, somewhat let down when he didn’t. She held onto his arm for a minute, feeling lightheaded and giddy from lack of oxygen. The next time she would have to remember to breathe. Imagine, already thinking about the next time.

  Tom transferred a kiss upon his fingertip to her lips, and whispered, “I’ll go now, and leave you to your work.”

  As if she could concentrate on anything after that! When Tom closed the door behind him, Beth put a hand to her breast to calm her racing heart. My heavens!

  • • •

  It was a glorious late January morning, the sky clear blue and the air crisp. As Beth marched to the school, her breath formed beads of ice on her scarf and her cheeks felt frosted, but she didn’t mind. She was in a cheerful mood. For one thing, she no longer needed her crutches. For another, smoke puffed straight up from the schoolhouse chimney, which meant Tom was there.

  Beth hurried. She looked forward to her few minutes alone with him each morning, to their conversation of course, but more so, to their oh-so-wonderful kisses. She smiled, remembering how Tom had lured her into that first kiss. That night she convinced herself it must never happen again, at least not at the school. It was certainly acceptable for a schoolteacher to be courted, but societal rules required a chaperone be present. And to kiss a beau while alone in the school? Scandalous! She had all intentions of setting Tom straight, but the following day when she arrived at the schoolhouse, he was on his way out the door. He pulled her into the cloakroom, planted a quick one on her lips, and was gone before she had time to react. The next day, the moment he entered the schoolhouse, she voiced her concerns and he chuckled, reminding her kissing was hardly scandalous. Odd, how when she was all alone with her thoughts she could see clearly what they were doing wasn’t proper, but when Tom was with her, he made their kisses seem innocuous. And since Beth never really wanted to forego his kiss, she allowed herself to believe him.

  Sometimes Davy wanted to hang around in the school, rather than go outside to play. Tom solved that problem by explaining to Davy that if he was going to be inside, he could help with the morning chores. Davy always chose playing outside over sweeping floors or some other menial chore. And should he or some other student want to come inside early, the sound of their heavy winter boots clomping up the steps gave Tom and Beth ample warning.

  Beth and Davy trudged through the deep snow, Beth dreamily lost in her thoughts of Tom. There was something thrilling about their stolen morning kiss —

  Oomph! Beth nearly fell over Davy as he stopped in his tracks just outside the schoolhouse. He turned to Beth and stated, “It’s too cold. I want to come inside this morning.”

  “Fine. You can sweep the floors then.”

  “Okay,” he replied.

  Beth’s spirits fell lower than the mercury in their thermometer. She followed Davy into the school.

  Tom seemed in a good mood. “Good morning, Bud.”

  “It’s cold out,” Davy announced.

  “Cold enough to freeze pigeon droppings in mid-air.” Tom grinned and Beth forced a smile.

  “Davy decided he’d rather sweep floors than stay outside this morning,” she explained, hoping Tom might come up with some other subterfuge to get Davy outside, hiding her frustration when he sided with Davy.

  “Can’t say as I blame him one iota. Well, grab the broom and get with it, Bud. I’ve got something to fix in the cloakroom. I want your opinion, Beth, if you can spare the time.”

  She followed him silently, the day having lost some of its luster now there would be no morning kiss.

  Tom closed the door behind them. “Do you see what’s wrong?” he asked as he shrugged into his heavy coat.

  Beth gave the room a careful check. “No.”

  “It’s these.”

  Puzzled, she looked at Tom. He was pointing to his lips. “They’re not covered.”

  Her heart leapt and her face brightened. “I should correct that, shouldn’t I?”

  “Hmm,” he agreed.

  She stepped closer and he took her in his arms and pulled her against his body.

  “That feels better already,” he murmured as his lips warmed hers.

  Hmm. Yes. She longed to linger in his arms where she felt safe, where her haunting past could not intrude and the frightening future was held at bay, even for just those few minutes. But soon the heavy clomping of boots heralded the arrival of children and her reality returned with all its responsibilities and trepidations.

  Chapter 13

  The ominous white cloud bank that formed early afternoon worried Beth. Prairie winters were unpredictable. Wind could churn a gentle fall of feathery snowflakes into a blinding blizzard with little warning and sadly more than one child had perished on the way home in such a storm. Beth swore never to let that happen to any of her pupils.

  She kept a wary eye on the fast advancing cloud, and before the first flake of snow fell, she decided to send the children home. Fortunately, more than half her students lived right in Whistle Creek, and the remainder lived within a two-mile radius.

  “Quickly,” Beth urged as they dressed in their winter clothes. “Peter, put on your hat or your ears will freeze. And don’t dawdle today,” Beth sternly warned.

  “I go past his place. He can ride double with me on Star,” Martha offered.

  “Thank you,” Beth said in relief as the two headed out the door, following a mass of other children to the barn.

  Inga and her older brother Nels lived the furthest away. “I’ll hitch up the horses,” Nels said.

  “Hurry. I think you’ll be able to stay ahead of the storm.” But the first pellets of snow were already falling. Beth hastened the remaining students into their coats and boots. With every passing moment the snowfall increased, as did the wind — and her anxiety.

  Beth opened the door. The old maple in the schoolyard was no longer visible. The drifting snow formed a curtain of white.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she told her students. “You’ll have to stay here until the storm passes.”

  While the children took off their coats, Beth put hers on. She wound a scarf around her head and another around her face.

  “Where are you going?” Davy asked with a worried look.

  “I’ve got to stop the others from leaving. Norman, you’re in charge. Keep the stove going and don’t let anyone leave under any circumstance.” Norman nodded gravely.

  Outside, the fierce wind nearly blew Beth off the school steps. Visibility was next to impossible. Ahead of her loomed a whirling whiteness. Running one hand along the school’s edge, Beth maneuvered herself to the east side where she was sheltered somewhat from the storm. Snow swirled off the roof, already forming sharp-edged drifts, and several times she stumbled. At the back corner of the school, she stopped and shouted, but the howling wind swallowed her calls to the barn. Though it was no more than thirty feet directly behind the schoolhouse, Beth couldn’t see it. It was as if the barn was gone.

  When she stepped beyond the shelter of the schoolhouse, the angry storm whipped at her scarves. She secured one with a fat knot, and pulled the second scratchy scarf over her nose and cheeks. Leaning into the storm, she staggered blindly in the barn’s direction, one step in front of the other. She counted her steps, small and halting against the forceful wind. If she took more than forty, she would know she had missed the barn completely. Though her forehead ached from the cold, and the wind buffeted her, she hunkered down and kept moving forward.

 
As she stumbled along freezing tears formed. She blinked, her eyelashes coated with ice. She had taken only twenty-six steps and she was physically exhausted. Still she pushed onward against the wall of wind and snow. Finally she had reached forty-one steps. Dear Lord, how could I have missed the barn? Surely I must be near it.

  She swung her arms about her and took three more heavy steps. Her right hand hit something. It was either the barn or one of the outhouses. She felt the walls. The slabs were horizontal. She had made it to the barn!

  With renewed hope, Beth hugged the wall as she made her way around to the east door. She pulled on the heavy latch, but the door wouldn’t open. A drift held it shut. She kicked it away, her weakened ankle aching under the strain. When she tried the door once more, someone pushed from the inside.

  Beth nearly collapsed inside the barn. “Oh thank God, you’re still here.”

  The walls creaked so loudly Beth could barely hear Penelope’s reply. “Martha and Peter left five minutes ago.”

  “They left?”

  “Martha said her horse was smart and would find its way home.”

  Beth’s heart felt frozen. Martha, who always was ready to help, and sweet little Peter. Please don’t judge me by my size, although I’m mighty small. Now they were out in this blizzard.

  “Miss Patterson. I’m cold.”

  Beth knew she must focus on the remaining children’s safety. “We have to get back to the school or we’ll freeze.”

  Including herself, they totaled eight. If they all held hands … Beth did a rapid calculation. Even forming one long line, they wouldn’t span the distance between the barn and the school.

  “Quickly, gather all the reins and rope you can find, anything to tie ourselves together so we don’t lose each other on our way back to the schoolhouse.”