Belonging (29 page)

Colin was about to stand when Walter Swanson slid into the pew beside him. “We need to talk.”

Colin lifted his eyebrows in question.

Lowering his voice, Walter said, “Mrs. Summerville’s got a bee in her bonnet over somethin’. Says there’s a matter of grave importance for the school board to take up. Wants a meeting tonight. Just the board. You know, a closed meeting. She won’t be put off. Lord knows I tried.”

Colin felt like swearing. He didn’t have to guess what this was about. He already knew. Helen Summerville was following through on her promise to call for Felicia’s dismissal. As he should have expected. She wasn’t the sort to make idle threats. Still, he’d thought he had a little time to make some changes that might satisfy the woman. Apparently, he’d thought wrong.

“Can you be at the schoolhouse tonight at seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Walter slapped him on the back, his expression brightening, as if sharing the news with Colin had lifted the burden from his shoulders. “Great night at the Dowds’, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Great night.” He swept his gaze over the dispersing churchgoers, looking for Felicia, wondering if anyone had told her the news about the meeting yet.

He would put a stop to this. He
had
to put a stop to it. He wasn’t about to let Helen Summerville ruin Felicia’s life. Especially if he was the cause of it. He thought back over Helen’s visit to him at the mercantile. If he’d kept his temper, maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

Silently, he said a quick prayer for God to help him. Then he stood and moved out of the pew, flowing with the last members of the congregation through the double doors and down the steps into the crisp October morning air. That’s when he saw Felicia, talking to Jane and Lewis Carpenter. She didn’t look upset. She must not know. He wished he could leave it that way, but he couldn’t. She glanced in his direction. He drew a breath and moved to join her.

He exchanged a few pleasantries with the Carpenters, but as soon as they walked away, there was no excuse not to come straight out with it. “Mrs. Summerville’s called a school board meeting for tonight.”

Felicia’s face paled. “She’s going to demand my resignation, isn’t she?”

“This is my fault, Felicia.”

“It isn’t your fault. I … I shouldn’t have danced with you.”

He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “Is that what you think this is about?” He shook his head. “It isn’t. It’s about the evenings you’ve spent at my place.”

“The evenings? Do you mean when I’ve been tutoring Charity? There was nothing improper about that.”

“We were seen together. Last week. The night I walked you to your door.” He drew a slow breath. “You remember.”

“Oh.” The word came out on a breath of air. “That night.”

“It’s my fault,” he said again.

“No.” She took a step back from him, straightened her shoulders, tilted her chin. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m a grown woman. I must take responsibility for my actions.”

“But—”

“What time is the meeting?”

“Seven. But Walter said it was a closed meeting. Only the board members will be there.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not to have an opportunity to defend myself?”

“Not tonight.”

“But that’s unfair.”

“I know.” He wanted to draw her into his arms and hold her close, but this wasn’t the time or place for that. Not if he wanted to stop the rumors Helen was determined to start. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you.” Her voice broke. “Please excuse me, Mr. Murphy.” Then she turned and hurried away.

Kathleen stopped the buggy in front of the restaurant in Boise.

Am I doing this? Am I really getting married? What if—

Oscar stepped through the doors of the restaurant. He wore a dark suit, and for an instant, she wondered if it was him. He looked so businesslike, so confident—not to mention so handsome. She’d never seen him in anything but Levi’s and long-sleeved shirts. But then he grinned, and she had her answer. It was him. He was here. And they were going to get married today.

He tied the horse to the hitching rail, then came to the side of the buggy and offered a hand to help her to the ground. “You look mighty pretty, Kathleen.”

“And you look quite handsome.”

“What did you tell Miz Summerville?”

“That I’m meeting a friend in Boise and will return on Tuesday afternoon.”

“A friend, eh?”

“It isn’t a lie.”

He lifted the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it. “No, I reckon it isn’t a lie, but it’s not quite the truth neither.”

“I know. But Mother Summerville has been in a foul temper for the last few days, and I didn’t want to argue with her or have her forbid me to use the buggy. When we return on Tuesday, I’ll tell her everything.”

“And your girls?”

“I couldn’t tell them either. They might have let something slip. But they’re going to love you, Oscar, just as I do.” She felt almost giddy with joy when she said those words.

“I’ll be a good pa to them, Kathleen. I promise.”

“I know you will.” She wasn’t certain how she knew it was true. She simply knew.

He motioned with his head toward the restaurant. “Let’s go inside and get something to eat. I’ve arranged for us to meet the minister at the church at two o’clock. We’ve got ourselves a bit of a wait.”

The time couldn’t possibly pass fast enough to suit Kathleen.

TWENTY-NINE

At 6:40 on Sunday evening, Colin rapped his knuckles on the doorjamb of the cottage. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Felicia. She wore a gray dress that made her look wan. Or perhaps she would have looked that way regardless of the color of her gown.

“Miss Kristoffersen,” he said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind doing some reading with Charity, even though it’s the Lord’s Day. And I reckon it would be better for her to come to you from now on.”

Understanding in her eyes, she nodded. “Come on in, Charity.” She held open the screen door.

“Papa’s got a meeting at the school,” his daughter informed her teacher.

“Yes, I know.” Felicia looked at Colin again.

It had been a long, tense day for him. He could only imagine what it had been like for her.

“I suppose you’ll bring word to me of what’s decided,” she said.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Charity can stay with me until the meeting is over.”

“Appreciate it.” He longed to say something more, something that would encourage her and remove the sadness in her eyes and
the tension around her mouth. But he didn’t know what words would do that.

“Thank you, Mr. Murphy, for whatever you can do.”

Whatever he could do.

Maybe if he’d thought about that beforehand, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. If he’d never wanted to kiss her. If he’d tried to smooth things over with Mrs. Summerville when she’d come to see him at the mercantile on Friday. If he’d immediately spoken with Felicia about the location of the tutoring sessions. If he hadn’t wanted to dance with her last night. Her and only her.

He nodded, turned, and headed off in the direction of the school.

Despite being a good ten minutes early, he wasn’t the first board member to arrive. Helen and Walter were there before him.

“Evenin’, Colin,” Walter greeted him.

Helen didn’t bother to turn to look in his direction. If she had, he suspected she would have sniffed, as if something didn’t smell right in the room.

He knew the feeling.

Walter checked his pocket watch. “The rest of ‘em should be along soon.”

“I reckon.” Colin sat in a desk midway up the first row.

No doubt picking up on the tension between Helen and Colin, Walter began pacing the length of the raised platform at the front of the classroom. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when more voices announced the arrival of the remainder of the board.

Daisi Benoit was the first to enter, followed by Miranda Reynolds, Benjamin Hightower, Yancy Dowd, and Gary Peters.

“Good. Good.” Walter wiped away a sheen of perspiration on his forehead with a handkerchief. “You’re all here. We can start then.”

The two other women took seats near Helen at the front of the classroom. The men sat in desks closer to Colin.

Yancy said, “Why don’t you tell us what this is about, Walter?”

The school board president looked at Helen. “Mrs. Summerville?”

She stood and faced the others, her eyes avoiding Colin. “I’m afraid something quite disturbing has come to my attention. It involves our new schoolmarm.”

A murmur of concern was heard from Daisi and Miranda. The men were silent.

“Miss Kristoffersen has been seen frequently coming and going in the evenings from the home of … Mr. Murphy.”

All eyes turned on him. He pressed his lips together, determined to quell his rising anger.

“And they were seen embracing in the dark outside of her home just last week by a friend of mine who happened by. Naturally, my friend told me, and I took my concerns to Mr. Murphy at once. His response, I’m sorry to say, was unsatisfactory. As anyone with eyes could see on Saturday night, Mr. Murphy and Miss Kristoffersen have developed a certain … affection for one another. An affection that has led to inappropriate behavior and—”

Heat rising up his neck, Colin stood. “Affection between two people isn’t against the law, the last I heard.”

At last, she looked at him. “You disappoint me, Mr. Murphy. I always believed you to be a moral and upright man.”

“I like to think I am, ma’am.”

“If you were, you would understand my concern.”

“Look. Miss Kristoffersen has been helping Charity with her reading lessons. My daughter’s struggled with reading ever since she started school. Nobody’s been able to make it easier for her until now. But Miss Kristoffersen thought some individual tutoring
would help her catch up with other children her age. That’s why she’s been coming to my place in the evenings. It’s working too.”

“Late at night? In your home without a chaperone?” Amazing how Helen could make tutoring sessions sound dirty and disgraceful.

“It wasn’t late. Miss Kristoffersen and Charity study at the kitchen table from seven o’clock until about seven-thirty. Never later than eight. And while they study, I’m in the living room or working in my office in the store. How is that
improper
? How can that disturb anyone?”

“It’s disturbing to any good citizen of Frenchman’s Bluff. Who’s to know you’re telling the truth? Who’s to know what’s going on in your home or hers?”

He couldn’t keep his anger in check any longer.
“I’m
to know!” He slapped his chest with his right hand. “Charity’s to know. And by heavens, Miss Kristoffersen’s to know.” He pointed at Helen. “But no matter whatever else is true, it’s true that it’s none of
your
affair.”

She gasped and her chin raised several notches in the air. “I will
not
allow my granddaughters to receive instruction from a woman of questionable morals. I expect their teacher to be a good Christian.”

Walter’s hands moved up and down, as if he were trying to press the anger in the room toward the floor. “Please, Mrs. Summerville.”

Colin was having none of it. “She’s a better Christian than you’ll ever be. She’s got more goodness in her little finger than you’ve got in your whole body.”

Helen gasped her outrage.

“You gossip and call it public concern,” Colin continued. “What hogwash.”

“Mr. Murphy, please.” Again Walter motioned with his hands.

Colin wanted to slam his way out of the building, but somehow he forced himself to sit down at the desk again.

“Mrs. Summerville,” Walter said, “what is it, exactly, that you wish us to do?”

“I want her fired, of course. I want her to be sent away as soon as possible.”

“Fired?” Walter looked from Helen to each board member in the room. “I hardly think we have suitable grounds for her to be fired.”

Well, at least somebody’s got a lick of sense.

The president of the board continued, “Besides, school is in session, and we can’t be without a teacher. Not again. We went through that after Miss Lucas left.”

That’s not the right reason.

“We wouldn’t have to be without a teacher.” Helen’s look was triumphant. “We just so happen to have a qualified schoolteacher living a few miles out of town.”

“A teacher? Just who—”

“Ellen Franklin’s cousin, a Miss Todd, has come to stay at the Franklin farm. Surely most of you met her at the barn dance last night or at church this morning. Miss Todd’s most recent teaching position was in Oregon. She is highly qualified and has many years of experience.” Again the lifting of her nose. “Unlike Miss Kristoffersen.”

Daisi Benoit raised her hand, as if she were a student and Walter the teacher. “Mr. Swanson?”

“Yes, Mrs. Benoit.”

“I don’t wish to sound critical of Mr. Murphy, but if Mrs. Summerville feels this much concern, how can we ignore it? Appearances do matter. Surely Mrs. Summerville has the well-being of all of the children at heart.”

I doubt that.