The Rancher Inherits A Family

“But you’d become a teacher.”

“Yes. And I got my father’s affinity for numbers. I’d make someone a good accountant in a pinch, but I prefer working with children. I’ll always find employment.”

She was obviously smart and ambitious, and took pride in being able to support herself. “That’s admirable.”

“Thank you.”

The breeze picked up her citrusy scent and carried it in his direction.

“What’s that scent you wear?”

She looked at him with surprise. “Orange-flower and almond-oil toilet water. My father always gave it to me at Christmas.”

“It suits you.”

Marigold had lived a life very different from his, from that of his family. It had taken courage and a desire for change to come this far alone. Quite a few brides had arrived in Cowboy Creek, and he’d heard some of their stories, but he’d never stopped to consider what the journey had meant for them. Until now.

“I don’t want you to be afraid living here. I only want to make sure you’re able to protect yourself and the children in your care.”

“Truly, I never considered I might have to protect them.”

“You will likely never have to. But you’ll be prepared regardless.”

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Thank you. For looking after the boys.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“You’re likely exhausted.”

“I am.”

“Good night then. Sleep well.”

“And you.” On a delicate current of orange and almond, she departed.

Dozens of cowboys and business owners were going to appreciate Miss Brewster’s delicate beauty and intelligence. The last teacher hadn’t lasted six months before she was married. He suspected this schoolmarm would be temporary as well. Even Russ had shown covert interest when he’d thought no one was looking. And why not? Marigold Brewster was the prettiest thing Seth had ever seen.

* * *

Little John cried the next morning when Marigold and the boys prepared to leave with Dewey. She kneeled and gave him a gentle hug. “You’re going to be just fine with Mrs. Halloway. She loves little boys. I’ll bet she’ll even read you a story.”

Evelyn rubbed his back and smoothed his hair. “I have just the book, too.”

Marigold had assured him he could come to school with them occasionally after her adjustment period had ended, but he didn’t take kindly to his brothers going without him. She cupped his chin and wiped his tears, then joined Dewey on the wagon seat and didn’t look back. Evelyn was the best person to care for Little John while his brothers were in school. She had been happy at the thought of having him with her during the day. It had, in fact, been her idea.

Dewey pointed out hawks and ground squirrels to Tate and Harper, and then answered a dozen questions on the drive to town. As they made their way to Lincoln Boulevard, the streets were already brimming with wagons; shopkeepers swept their stoops and opened their shutters. Dewey rolled the wagon right up along the curb before the single-story wood-frame building with a small vented bell tower, and helped Marigold to the ground. The boys grabbed their tin dinner pails and jumped down. As she’d noticed on their way past yesterday, the schoolhouse was larger than she’d anticipated.

“Looks like Mizz Aldridge is just gettin’ here,” Dewey said. “I’ll be off now.”

She thanked him and he drove the wagon away.

A dark-haired woman only a few years older than herself crossed the lawn and greeted Marigold. “Miss Brewster?”

“Miss Aldridge?”

“It was Libby Aldridge before I was married. I’m Libby Thompson now. I’m so glad you’re here.” The swell of Libby’s belly indicated the arrival of a child in the next few months.

“I’m glad to finally be here. The trip was...eventful.”

“Oh, my goodness, yes! Thank God you weren’t injured in the train wreck! We were aghast when we heard the news.”

“Some bumps and bruises, but I’m fortunate to have walked away. Mr. Halloway is the one with the most injuries.”

“The tale of him being injured while rescuing you has spread all around town. The ladies are finding it quite romantic.”

“Oh, no. No,” Marigold declared. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Let’s take our things inside. I suppose you have more supplies you’ll be bringing?”

“Yes, another day. I wanted to meet you and the children and become oriented this week.” She gestured to the two boys flanking her sides. “This is Tate Radner. And this is Harper. Gentlemen, say hello to Mrs. Thompson.”

After they exchanged greetings, Libby led them into a tiny entryway below the bell tower and then further inside, where the smell of new wood, paper and chalk prevailed. To the right was a large empty classroom and to the left a smaller one with rows of double desks. “As you can see the building is only a year old. The council thought of everything. There’s an entire half of the building to accommodate growth and eventually another teacher. Wood is delivered for the stove. There’s a shared well on the next block north, and a lad brings water to us each morning.”

“This is so much larger than I expected.”

“The town founders firmly believe in education, and they built the school with expansion and exceptional learning in mind. Right now we use that room for activities and exercise when the weather is poor. We hold our school programs in there as well.”

She pointed to a wooden chest along the side wall. “The children place their dinners in the pine box when they arrive. I assign two students to pass them out at noon. Leah Gardner will be here soon. She makes a few lunches every morning for the children who don’t have much to bring. And her own isn’t even old enough for school yet.”

“I’ve already heard a lot about her.” Marigold instructed Tate and Harper to stow their tin pails in the chest. “Are there seats available for these two new students?”

“Yes, of course. Right now I have the children arranged according to grade levels, and the open seats are in the rear. We will do a bit of rearranging today, and then you may want to reassign seats once you’ve done an assessment and know where to place them.”

Libby showed her the supplies provided by the school board—books, slates, chalk, paper and pencils. There were maps and a globe and even a pianoforte under an Indian blanket in the corner. “I don’t play, but occasionally Hannah Johnson comes to give a music lesson. Do you play?’

“I’m adequate, yes.”

“That’s excellent news. Hannah has a lot to do already, what with her dress shop and a little one, but she’s been faithful to devote a morning to us every week. My biggest challenge has been the German children. August Mason has learned some basics, and he is quite helpful in our communication, but I’m afraid the students are sorely behind. I know how important it is for their parents to have their children in school, but truthfully, I don’t know how much they’re actually getting out of the lessons. I do my best.”