The children obeyed with some murmuring. As usual, the children lined up in the center aisle and waited for her to position herself at the door. As usual, she spoke to each child, encouraging them and reminding them of what they should be practicing at home that evening. It always included studying their spelling list. The town was insistent that their spellers shine in the spring spelling bee. Her students prepared all year.
When Colton stopped in front, she asked him if he would stay to help with something. He nodded and then moved out of line. “Lily,” he called, “I got to help Miss Jones. Wait on the swing.”
Soon the school was empty except for her and Colton. “What do you want me to do?” Colton looked up at her.
She didn’t try to hide her true concerns. “Why didn’t Birdie and Charlotte come to school today?”
Colton frowned. “The little black girl wanted to come real bad. But Mr. Chandler said no, not yet.”
Emma was afraid of that.
“What do you want me to do here?” Colton asked, glancing out the open window, obviously wanting to leave.
“You’re still helping Mr. Chandler?”
“Yes, they’ll come to our place for supper. Mrs. Brant insisted. And then I’ll walk home with them and stay there for the night.”
“How is Mr. Chandler’s ankle?” She refused to let his dazed, whispered words repeat once more in her mind. Or she tried to.
“He doesn’t say anything about it. But I see he still needs a crutch.” Colton shifted on his feet, reminding her that he wanted to be off and out of school.
“Thank you, Colton.”
The boy paused and turned back at the doorway. “When Lily and me started school here, some kids acted strange around us. I think it’s ’cause...’cause our parents died. People don’t like it when you’re different.”
The boy’s wisdom surprised and impressed her. “I’m afraid that is correct.”
“I like Birdie. She’s real sweet and always helps.”
“That’s very true. Thank you, Colton.”
The boy left and she walked around the schoolroom, making certain everything was in place. She could understand why Mason wanted to protect his two little girls, but keeping them at home hidden did them no good. They were going to spend their lives here—and they both deserved as good a life as anyone else here in Pepin. If it weren’t for the girls and their need for special care, she could ignore this man. But she could see the girls might need her.
Mason Chandler, you are wrong if you keep them home. She knew how stubborn men could be. But it might just be that he needed time. She would give him time, but just so much.
* * *
A few days later, in the evening at the Brants’, the fragrance of the rabbit stew set before Mason literally caused him to salivate. He bowed his head politely while Asa offered the prayer over the meal. Hearing another man pray heightened the feeling of stone encasing his own heart. Maybe God hadn’t deserted him but it sure felt like it. Then he scolded himself. Years ago he’d lost his mother, and months ago his father, but he’d gained a sister and Birdie. He resisted a thought about also losing Emma.
“I caught the rabbits,” Colton spoke up. “I used my snares.”
For the hundredth time or more Mason found himself glancing at the door. He tried not to but he always looked for Emma to join them. He turned his mind from this. “Well done, Colton,” Mason replied, recalling his boyhood days. Then another worry intruded. How could he bring up the unpleasant conversation about Asa’s destroyed corn and hay crops? He’d tried twice now but Asa had changed the subject both times.
Birdie and Charlotte sat on the bench beside him. He could tell Birdie wanted to talk to Lily, but the little girl rarely looked at them. Pain twisted in his chest over this. Birdie had wanted to go to school with Colton each day but he had kept the girls home. Why did people judge others on things like skin color and deafness?
“I’m glad you agreed to eat supper with us till your ankle is healed,” Asa’s wife, sitting on the opposite side of the table, said. “How is it doing? Did the goose grease help?”
At her words, Mason’s ankle throbbed as if taunting him with his weakness. “Yes, it helped. My ankle’s still swollen some, but it’s improving.”
“It will be all better soon.” Judith forked up a bite of stew.
“I thank you for your hospitality and for Colton’s help,” he said, grateful, knowing that his girls needed more food than he would be able to rustle up while standing on a crutch by the fire. He decided this was the opening he’d been waiting for. “And Asa, you’ve not let me discuss your planting my crops—”
“I didn’t plant your full crops—”
“You did more than I would ever have expected. And I’m going to share my corn and hay with you. I think—”
Asa tried to interrupt.
Mason forged onward. “I think that if we are careful, we’ll have almost enough to make it through the winter and put away some seed for next spring. It will be tight, but we can make it.”
“I didn’t put it in for that reason.” Asa still sounded put out.
“I know, but it’s a blessing—for both of us—that you did.”
“Asa,” Judith said, resting a hand on her husband’s sleeve, “Mason is speaking the truth. What you have done for a friend has come back to bless all of us.”
The woman’s mention of blessing hit Mason squarely in the heart, the heart that had suffered and been stretched this year. “And when November comes,” he spoke up, banishing these thoughts, “you’ll have to permit me to bring you some fresh meat, Mrs. Brant.” He savored the rich gravy, rolling it on his tongue.
“I’m also looking forward to fall hunting,” Asa commented. “But now’s a good time to start geese, grouse and duck.”
Asa and Mason discussed hunting for a while. Birdie was busy signing to Charlotte. Mason often wondered what went on in his little sister’s head. He must work harder at learning to talk to her with his hands. “Thank you again, Mrs. Brant,” he murmured.
She merely smiled at him. Again, Mason was very aware of the change just a few months of marriage had wrought in his friend. Almost three years ago, when Mason had first arrived in Pepin and found Asa as his neighbor, he’d liked Asa right away. But since they’d last met, Asa had changed, and for the better. Asa now smiled and talked easily, appeared to be more at peace. Mason couldn’t stop himself from once again wishing he’d been here in March to meet his mail-order bride. Well, life was what it was.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Mason was in his barn, unhitching the team he’d just reclaimed and fetched from Levi’s place outside town to the northeast. He’d left his girls with Asa’s wife and rode one of Asa’s horses to Levi’s. His ankle still pained him. He limped but he’d left off the crutch today.
He turned, startled when he heard his name being called. “Miss Jones.” Nearly a week had passed since he’d seen her. He drank in the sight of her like a thirsty man finding water in the desert. He stiffened himself. Don’t embarrass yourself. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m glad to see you are walking without your crutch,” she said, not replying to his question.
Birdie with Charlotte hurried away from the head of one of the horses toward her. “Miss Emma!” Birdie greeted her.
“Hello.” Emma bent to talk to them. “Girls, I would like to have a few words