Molly eyed her skeptically. “You ain’t never run into a situation like that?”
Gemma shook her head. “I didn’t fight with my tutors.” Just the thought of stern Mr. Allen rolling in the dirt in a bout of fisticuffs produced an unexpected giggle. She slapped her hand over her mouth.
Molly chuckled. “No...guess you wouldn’t, at that.”
“And what about the raccoon?”
“Now, that you can’t let them git away with. They’ll only try something worse next time.”
Next time? Gemma swallowed. “What do you mean...worse?”
“Oh, likely you got nothing to worry about. They was just trying to get a rise from you. ’Course, if it was mean-spirited, that’s another thing entirely.”
It could have been mean-spirited. She hadn’t gotten on well with Duncan or Billy for the past few weeks. Maybe she was pushing them too hard. They both had so much potential and she had encouraged their competition, hoping it would spur them even further in their studies. She hadn’t counted on it being quite so adversarial as an out-and-out fight.
“Then you don’t think the raccoon could have found its own way into the shed and the door just happened to slam shut?” she asked hopefully. She really didn’t want it to be because of a student.
Molly shrugged and kept right on washing. “Guess you’ll have to talk to your class and figure that out.”
“Molly, they are not going to confess to something like this. No one would.”
“No, but you might be able to tell something from the way one of the kids acts. And though I don’t hold with squealin’ on your neighbor, one of those children might feel a need to tell on his classmate.”
Gemma contemplated the woman’s attitude and wondered if she would ever feel that self-assured. An education in Boston sure didn’t translate to real life in the back country. People here set more stock on common sense and survival than they did on head knowledge.
“I learned one thing from today. I’d better make sure the shed has a way to open it from the inside. I wouldn’t want one of my students to get trapped in there like the raccoon.”
Molly nodded. “That’d be hard on a young’un for sure.”
“Let alone trying to explain to the school board how I let it happen.”
“Could be something that would leave a soul scar.”
“A soul scar?” Gemma asked. She’d never heard of such a thing.
“Something that hurts a body. Something you can’t see with your eyes. It ain’t on the surface like a limp or a burn that puckers the skin. It’s deeper than that. It’s something real hard to heal from. Something that’s always there inside you for the rest of your life.”
Like her reason for leaving her home. She understood Molly perfectly now. “I wouldn’t want to inflict that on any child.”
She stacked the last dish on the shelf before speaking again. “I had a visitor today.”
“Other than the raccoon?” With her grin, Molly’s round spectacles rose up on her apple cheeks.
“Tara Odom decided to go looking for her brother after the fight. The sheriff found her by the creek and brought her back to school.”
“He’s earning his pay then.”
“He didn’t care for the way I disciplined Tara. It’s just...she’s so far behind the other children and I know she has it in her to do so much better. I was...strict with her. And I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to the sheriff.”
“Now, don’t let that bother you. You have to handle things as they come and as you see fit at the time.” Molly wrung out the dishrag and turned to wipe down the kitchen table. “He’s new in town himself. Just been here six months or so. That’s barely enough time to get settled into the place and know what’s what.”
“It’s just...”
“Just what, dear?”
Gemma sighed. “I don’t know. He’s so...big and...and...”
Molly raised her brows, this time tilting her snowy white head. “I’d think that would be a good thing for a sheriff.”
The thought of Sheriff Parker had her insides twisting into a knot. What was it about the man that set her senses so off-kilter? She probably shouldn’t have mentioned anything to Molly. From all she’d heard of the man, people thought he was doing a solid job as sheriff. They only had good things to say about him—Molly included. But still...
“Is he married?”
The woman eyed her with curiosity. “Heard tell he was engaged. Some young woman from his hometown up north of here, but I ain’t never heard of her coming to visit.”
Gemma should be breathing easier by the minute. The Sheriff had a sweetheart. “Well, that has to be the best news I’ve heard all day. Perhaps once he marries he’ll stop coming by the school and criticizing me.”
Molly chuckled. “Oh, he was likely only trying to help. My Mort was the same. Men always think we gals need answers like we can’t figure things out for ourselves. We just go about it different is all.”
“I didn’t like it,” she said stubbornly, unwilling to give the good sheriff an inch of grace.
“Well, seems you had quite a day, all told.”
Gemma snapped out the wet dishtowel and then took her time spreading it out to dry over the back of the kitchen chair. “Yes,” she murmured. “Quite a day.”
Craig Parker stood with his weight shifted to one leg while he leaned against a support four-by-four in the back of the town hall. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened to the proceedings of the Clear Springs School Board meeting. The board was made up of four men, each with children benefitting from the education Miss Starling was handing out. Patrick Tanner was the head of the board and had done the hiring of the new teacher. With four children in the school—two girls and two boys—he had a keen interest in seeing they were educated. Tanner had come with his wife. She, along with Mrs. Winters contributed enough of their opinions that it was obvious they felt their own particular viewpoints should be written into school law.
None of it mattered much to him. He didn’t have kids in school. He hadn’t even planned to be here tonight, especially after Miss Starling’s sound refusal of any kind of help yesterday, but ever since then her abrupt attitude had sat crooked in his judgment. He couldn’t reconcile that woman with the one he’d seen playing in the schoolyard and the one the children liked. It was enough that he wondered about her. He had to trust his gut feelings. They were there for a reason. He’d learned that well enough from Sheriff Talbot in the time he’d worked as his deputy. So here he was...
Tonight Miss Starling wore a dark, forest green skirt and pale green blouse. A fitted vest made of the same stiff dark green material as her skirt gave her the no-nonsense appearance that she seemed determined to portray—at least around adults. She appeared at once appealing and distant. As though a body would have to wrangle through a stiff layer of starch and burrs to find the real woman underneath.
She sat looking reserved and collected among the others in the small circle of chairs, her appearance calm with the exception that she kept fingering the high lace collar at her neck as though it was too tight. Something had her on edge. No one else in the room seemed aware of it however, but he couldn’t help but notice everything about her, from the thick dark brown braided bun at the back of her head that seemed to prop