Lyn Cote Page 10

  Therefore, he must make her see the truth.

  “You are a woman alone. A boy needs a father to learn how to be a man.”

  “I had hoped you were on my side, Mr. Lang.” When he didn’t answer, she continued, “A boy needs a mother to learn about women.” She lifted her hands palm up. “How many children are raised in perfect homes?”

  He snorted in derision. I was not.

  “I had wonderful parents. But even with their guidance, life has taken unexpected twists and turns for my brother, my sister and me.”

  He thought about Randolph Thurston. The man had not liked Kurt being around his sister—Kurt understood that. But her brother had not appeared happy in himself, either.

  As his thoughts drifted, he noticed the fragrance of rosewater drifting on the breeze, and realized the lovely scent was Miss Thurston’s perfume.

  Kurt looked into the distance at the darkening horizon. Seeing that they’d stayed too long jerked him back to practicality. “Boys!” he called, standing up quickly. “We must go now. The sun is nearly set.” He turned and gripped her hand. “Thank you again.” He wanted to say more but he couldn’t—what he had to say would be too personal.

  Miss Thurston looked puzzled by his sudden departure but she said a polite good-night and then reached for the baby.

  Soon the three of them were hurrying fast toward home. As darkness began to overtake them, the parting image of Miss Thurston holding William in her arms wouldn’t leave Kurt. The terrible sensation of being forced to accept her fate pressed down on him.

  I cannot let her leave Pepin, he thought. Not after all the good she has done Gunther and the other students. This is about my duty to this community. It is not about how I may feel about Miss Thurston.

  Kurt turned his attention to the boys before he could acknowledge that he wasn’t being entirely honest with himself.

  Chapter Ten

  Ellen had dressed with care for the special board meeting with a delicate balance in mind. She’d chosen a sober yet stylish dress of navy; she wanted to impress but not appear ostentatious.

  As she looked around the room, she noticed Mr. Lang had not yet come in. Would he desert her? She cast this concern aside. She’d told Randolph she wasn’t interested in romance and a thought like that was not appropriate. Whether he was here or not had little bearing on the issue at hand.

  She’d chosen not to try to hide William this time. He napped in his cradle at her feet while she sat beside her desk before the schoolroom packed with citizens of Pepin, all of whom had come to address whether she could keep both William and her job.

  She’d prayed about this, but her tension had not lessened. When Mr. Lang entered at last, she breathed a sigh of relief despite herself. He sat on the rear bench beside Old Saul in his wheelchair.

  She had begun to know and like some of the people of Pepin. She recalled how hard it had been to come here to start a new life, and she was not anxious to venture into the unknown again. The very thought hollowed her out like seeding a melon.

  Mr. Ashford looked at the clock and then at his own pocket watch. He loosened the tight collar around his throat and then he brought the meeting to order. After Noah Whitmore prayed for wisdom and guidance, Mr. Ashford rose and stepped to the front. “We have come here at the request of many parents and citizens to discuss whether our schoolteacher, Miss Thurston, should be able to keep the foundling and remain our teacher or not.”

  Ellen did not like the expressions of most of the men and many of the women. They telegraphed an aggravation with her as if she had affronted them in some way. She wondered where that came from, as it was a far cry from the warm welcome she’d initially received. Only Mr. Lang and Old Saul looked sympathetic.

  Ellen rose and stood beside the storekeeper. She decided to be direct. “I would like to know why my taking in a foundling is a matter of public discussion.”

  “He just told you,” a man from the middle said pugnaciously. “You’re a teacher. You’re not supposed to have a baby.”

  Mr. Ashford raised both his hands. “This is a school board meeting and there are rules to keep order. You can’t just up and start talking. You must rise, say your name and then ask to speak.”

  Conceding this, Ellen nodded agreement and returned to her seat.

  Another man, the father of twin girls she’d found precocious, rose. “I’m Isaac Welton and I’d like to say a few words, please.”

  Mr. Ashford nodded assent.

  “We, my wife and I, think Miss Thurston is a bang-up teacher. Our girls love to go to school and at the supper table, can’t wait to tell us all they’d learned. I just want Miss Thurston to know that our disapproval of her keeping this foundling has nothing to do with our respect for her as a lady and a teacher. That’s all I— we—” he glanced at his wife “—got to say.”

  The man’s words touched Ellen’s heart. “Thank you, Mr. Welton.” Her eyes sought Mr. Lang. He returned her gaze, not revealing anything. She looked away.

  Another man rose. “I’m Jesse Canton.”

  Ashford nodded for the man to speak.

  “Everyone knows Miss Thurston does a good job. But the thing is, a schoolteacher having a baby around, it just doesn’t look right. I mean people, strangers, might get the wrong idea.” The man looked uncomfortable. “If you know what I mean.” Most everyone in the room nodded in agreement with his sentiment.

  Ellen took a deep breath and rose. “I think I should reply to these comments, Mr. Ashford.”

  The storekeeper looked doubtful but nodded. “You have a right to a say.” He sat down.

  Already girded for battle, Ellen faced the room of disapproving faces. Her mind was made up, and she knew what she was going to do. She found herself looking to Mr. Lang again, and the kindness she saw in his eyes, even though it was a sad kindness, somehow gave her an extra bit of strength and courage to say what needed to be said.

  *

  Kurt had the sensation of the roof slowly lowering on him, closing him in, a feeling of imminent loss and pain. He’d known how this would go, but had no way of preventing or even slowing what was about to happen, and this helplessness was unbearable.

  But Miss Thurston spoke evenly and forcefully, impressing him yet again.

  “So far the only reasons given here have been that a schoolteacher doesn’t usually have a child, and that when strangers see the town’s schoolteacher with a child, they might get the wrong idea of this community. But we live in America. We, as a nation, do things that others have not done before. I think the only question should be this—whether or not caring for this child prevents me or hinders me from doing my job well.”

  Another man near Kurt rose. “Joe Connolly.” When he’d been acknowledged, he continued, “Those are not the only considerations. A child needs a ma and a pa. Everybody knows that. This child won’t have a pa.” He sat down among approving murmurs.

  Kurt, having already tried this argument and failed, knew exactly what she was going to say.

  “I agree that having a mother and a father is the ideal situation,” the schoolteacher replied. “However, how many children are fortunate enough to reach adulthood still having both parents? I myself lost both parents to typhoid. And where will this child go if I don’t care for him? Mrs. Whitmore has suggested that orphanage south of here. Yet if we send William there, he will have neither father nor mother.”

  A man stood, red-faced. “But a schoolteacher isn’t supposed to be married or have children. It isn’t done!”

  “Why?” Miss Thurston asked, eyeing the man.

  Mr. Ashford sent a warning glance to the man for not following procedure. He sat down, grumbling to himself.

  Kurt had to keep his lips pressed together. He wanted to stand up and tell them all to be quiet or they might lose this fine woman. And then where would the town of Pepin be? They had no idea what a treasure they’d be losing.

  Martin Steward rose. “I really think this meeting has gone on long enough.
Ophelia and I have offered to take the child and raise him as our own. There is no need for this public upset.”

  Kurt hadn’t known that. The perfect solution. The tension in the room ebbed amid murmuring.

  Miss Thurston turned to him. “Martin, I appreciate the offer, but as I’ve already said, I’m keeping William. He was entrusted to me. And if the town doesn’t want the two of us—”

  Kurt’s heart thudded against his breastbone. She was going to go through with it. She was going to tell them she would be leaving.

  Miss Thurston faced the crowd. “If I can’t keep this child and remain your teacher, then I plan to—”

  “I am Kurt Lang,” he said, surging to his feet before he even recognized what he was doing. His mind scrambled for words. Now more than ever it was important that he spoke correctly. He had to, for her sake. “I am new in this country.” He swallowed down his nerves. “Many things here are different than in the old country. This is a free land. I see more than you, you who are born here. Why can’t a teacher raise a child alone? Isn’t every mother a teacher? And every teacher a mother?”

  Everyone had turned to him, gawking.

  Sweat trickled down his back as he continued, forcing his voice to sound strong and sure. “My mother taught me much. And I am both father and mother to my nephew, Johann. Would you take him from me because I am not married? Should a farmer be allowed to raise a boy by himself?” He took a breath, one final thing to say coming from deep within. “Miss Thurston is a good person. William will be lucky to have her as a mother.”

  He sat down abruptly. He wanted desperately to wipe his perspiring forehead with his handkerchief but felt it best to continue to look his surprised neighbors in the eye. And then he looked at Ellen, and saw a combination of shock and gratitude on her lovely face.

  The people had been silenced.

  Probably they couldn’t believe that he—a man who spoke with an accent and wasn’t even a citizen—had spoken up in a public meeting. He could hardly believe it himself.

  The old pastor touched his arm. “Will you push my chair to the front?”

  When Kurt complied, everyone turned at the sound of the wheelchair. A few men who had risen—no doubt to contest what Kurt had said—slowly sank back to their seats. When he reached the front, Kurt turned the chair so that the older man faced the gathering.

  “I have listened to all the opinions voiced here this evening,” Old Saul said. “And I can see merit in all of them. But in this case, what mere men think doesn’t amount to much. Yes, a child should be blessed with a mother and father. Yes, it is unusual for an unmarried schoolteacher to raise a foundling alone. Yes, no doubt people who visit here may think it out of the ordinary. However, only one fact matters.”

  Everyone sat forward, listening carefully so as not to miss a word.

  “I don’t believe the child was left on Miss Thurston’s doorstep by accident. I think William’s mother meant the lady to have him. And more important, God meant for Miss Thurston to have this child. I have prayed about this, as I’m sure Noah has.” Old Saul glanced at Noah, who nodded solemnly. “And each time, I have received peace about Miss Thurston keeping the child.”

  Kurt swallowed, trying to grasp what the man’s opinion could mean for Miss Thurston’s future.

  “I don’t think we should meddle in this.” The older man’s voice strengthened. “William was given to Miss Thurston, not anybody else. He is being well cared for and the children in school are being well taught by a fine woman. We should be satisfied, don’t you think?”

  Uneasy silence filled several moments, then Noah spoke, “I thank Mr. Lang and Old Saul for clarifying this situation.” He nodded to each in turn.

  “I must agree with Old Saul. And I’ll add that I was pleased when Mrs. Brawley stepped forward to help with William, and when Martin and Ophelia offered their help. In a way, this child has been given to all of us.”

  This last statement seemed to affect everyone in the room. No one rose to counter Noah.

  Mr. Ashford talked quietly with Micah and Martin, then stood beside Noah and Old Saul. “If no one else has anything further to say, I think Noah should close with prayer and we can all go home.”

  Kurt bowed his head during the prayer. The crisis had passed and had left him dumbfounded. He’d been sure Miss Thurston was going to leave him…leave their town, that is. But there had been a complete turnaround. And he had helped make it happen.

  A welter of emotions cannonaded within him. Had he done right to defend her? What would people think? More important, what would she think?

  *

  Mr. Lang had turned the tide in her favor. Why? Ellen hadn’t expected that at all and was even more surprised when many people came forward to shake her hand and peer down at William, who’d slept through it all. She now knew what the Bible meant about going through the crucible and being refined by fire. She felt as if that was exactly what had just happened to her.

  The town’s attitude toward her and William had changed in just a few moments. What had prompted Mr. Lang, who had been concerned about her desire to keep William since the very night they’d found him, to speak on her behalf? She couldn’t help but stare at him from across the room, where she was pleased to see people speaking to him. She hadn’t realized until this very moment that usually he was ignored. Her heart seemed to swell for him.

  Had the world tilted on its axis?

  “Well, you won,” Ophelia said, giving her elbow a squeeze. “But raising a child alone won’t be easy. You know that, right?”

  Ellen wrenched her gaze from Mr. Lang. “I don’t expect it to be easy, Ophelia. But I do expect that we can help each other over the coming years.”

  Ophelia threw her arms around Ellen. “You are truly my dearest cousin.” Then Ophelia lowered her voice. “Did Randolph ever tell you why he’d come here?”

  “He did,” she said, as she stepped out of their hug. “I will tell you about that another time.”

  Ellen saw that Noah had taken the handles of Old Saul’s wheelchair and was preparing to leave. She hurried forward, offering her hands. “Thank you, sir.”

  He grasped her hands with his, which were gnarled and wrinkled. “God has entrusted you with a child. I will pray you are given the grace to carry this forth.”

  His words brought unexpected tears. She couldn’t speak so she squeezed his hands and then stepped back so his son could push the old preacher outside.

  People moved around her, offering their farewells, and she replied politely. But as she waited for Mr. Lang to come and speak to her, she realized that he had left without a word. A lost feeling filled her that she couldn’t quite explain.

  When she was finally alone again, she shut the school door and secured it. Then she dragged the cradle into her quarters. William, as if on cue, stirred and began whimpering.

  “Right on time, young man.” She mixed the Horlick’s for him and then carried him to the rocker where she hummed to him as he took his night bottle. Suddenly, fatigue overwhelmed her. “We’ll sleep well tonight, William.”

  She closed her eyes and once again saw Mr. Lang rise to his feet in her defense. What had changed his mind? Warmth for him welled up within her but she took herself firmly in hand. Her path had been set.

  She had always resolved to pursue an education, not marriage, as most women did. But Holton had somehow weakened or made her forget that for a brief time. Perhaps after losing her parents she had been vulnerable. But now she was herself again. She taught school in Pepin, and a child had been entrusted to her. Therefore, she shouldn’t, and wouldn’t, interpret Mr. Lang’s defense of her as anything more than a change of mind expressed by a caring and sympathetic man. Because she would never be foolish over a man again.

  Once had proven to be quite enough, thank you.

  Chapter Eleven

  In the quiet amber of twilight, Kurt and Johann stood over the outdoor wash basin, cleaning the supper dishes. As they worked, Kurt wrestled
with a question: Should he and Johann go with Gunther to the school this evening or not? What did Miss Thurston think of his speaking up for her after he’d held the opposite view to hers? How would she react toward him? Would she want an explanation?

  When he recalled his speaking in Miss Thurston’s defense at the meeting, his heart flipped up and down like a hooked fish. He’d tried to convince himself that he’d spoken up for her, but in reality, he had to admit that he’d done it because he didn’t want Miss Thurston to leave.

  The feelings he had for Miss Thurston brought back memories of his broken engagement with Brigitte, making him recall the cause of their breakup. He and Brigitte had been childhood sweethearts. His father’s gambling had turned her family against him, but she had remained true.

  But when his father had lost everything and then taken the easy way out, the shame had been too great. Like a metal file, the memories scraped against his peace, shredding it fragment by fragment, leaving him raw and bleeding.

  He was becoming enamored of Miss Thurston, though he knew he had no business forming any attachment—spoken or unspoken—to a woman so far above him. Overhead a crow cawed, mocking him.

  I must remember who I am here and what I am now.

  But even as he thought this, something chafed at him, something that wouldn’t let him consider the matter settled. He was a newcomer here, a foreigner, but this land with all its freedom was loosening the old ways of thinking in him.

  Gunther stepped outside. “Are you done with the dishes?”

  Kurt noted with pride and some apprehension how carefully Gunther was speaking each word. His brother’s motivation could not have been more transparent—he wanted to be accepted here, wanted to be American. He wanted to court Amanda Ashford.

  Kurt had tried many times to warn Gunther against this distant hope. But why? Maybe Gunther was young enough to lose his accent, to become acceptable to the Americans, to win the Ashfords’ approval. What was possible for Gunther might not be possible for him.