Belonging (30 page)

“Perhaps,” Daisi continued, “we could put Miss Kristoffersen on suspension and hire Miss Todd as a temporary teacher while we determine the best course of action.”

“Is that a motion?” Helen asked. “If so, I second it.”

Colin looked around the room. “This is wrong, and you all know it.” He rose to his feet a second time. “Maybe you haven’t known Miss Kristoffersen very long, but you’ve known me for years. You’ve bought your goods in the mercantile, and you helped me when my wife died, and your kids have played with my daughter since she was only knee-high. You know me well enough that you shouldn’t believe this kind of accusation. And because of that, you definitely shouldn’t take this action against Miss Kristoffersen.”

Yancy Dowd said, “It’s just a temporary solution, Murphy.”

Colin wanted to punch something. He wanted to shout. Instead, he shook his head and walked out into the night.

While Charity read aloud from her McGuffey’s Reader—slowly but with few mistakes—Felicia’s gaze returned to the kitchen window.

“Run, run, thou tiny rill; / Run, and turn the village mill; / Run, and fill / the deep, clear pool …”

The meeting must have started by now. What was being said? Shouldn’t she be there to look into the eyes of her accuser?

“In the woodland’s shade so cool, / Where the sheep love best to stray / In the sultry summer day …”

Why hadn’t she thought of holding the tutoring sessions here in her little home right from the start?

“Where the wild birds bathe and drink, / And the wild flowers fringe the brink …”

If she and Charity had met here in the cottage these past weeks, there wouldn’t have been any talk nor any hint of impropriety.

“Run, run, thou tiny rill, / Round the rocks, and down the hill; Sing to every child like me …”

But perhaps that wouldn’t have made any difference to Mrs. Summerville. She was upset because she believed Colin had become interested in Felicia, when he was engaged to Kathleen.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled the way it had felt to dance with him, the warmth of his hand as it pressed against her back, guiding her expertly around the floor, the look in his eyes as he stared down at her. Once again he’d wanted to kiss her, and once again, she’d wanted it too. Perhaps Mrs. Summerville wasn’t far wrong.

“The birds will join you, full of glee: / And we will listen to the song / You sing, your rippling course along.”

Perhaps it was better that Felicia leave Frenchman’s Bluff. But not this way. Not to be fired. Not to be let go without reference.

No job. No reference. No family. She would be homeless and penniless and forsaken.

Forsaken?

No. That wasn’t true. She would never be forsaken. God had promised that He would be with her always. Still …

“Miss K?”

She blinked, forcing her attention back to Charity. “Yes.”

“I asked how I did.”

“You’ve made wonderful progress.” Not that she’d paid close enough attention to their session this evening. “Why don’t we stop now? I made some oatmeal cookies this afternoon. Would you like one?”

“Would I!”

Oh, God, what will I do if I can’t teach? This is what I’ve wanted to do for so long. It’s what I waited to do all the time I was taking care of the Kristoffersens. You know this, Lord. Will You allow Mrs. Summerville to ruin all of that?

She rose and went to the counter, where she took two cookies from a large white jar. When she turned around, she found Charity standing next to her, an eager smile in place.

“I suppose you would like two of them.”

Charity nodded.

“There you go.” Felicia placed the cookies in the girl’s waiting hands. “And a glass of milk?”

“Please.”

Felicia went to the icebox, pausing long enough to look out the window. All she saw was her own reflection in the glass.

How long would the meeting last? Would the other board members listen to Helen or would they listen to Colin? Of course, he was accused of the same inappropriate behavior as Felicia. Only he was a man. Men were judged differently than women were. People would continue to buy their supplies from Colin’s mercantile, no matter what was decided inside the schoolhouse tonight.

It’s not fair.

She took the bottle of milk from the icebox and poured the white liquid into a glass. “Here you go,” she said as she set the beverage on the table in front of Charity.

A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped in surprise.

“What’s the matter, Miss K? It’s only Papa.”

Her heart raced like a captured bird’s as she moved to open the door. One look at his face, and she knew the worst. “Charity, I’m going to talk to your father for a moment. Stay right there and eat your cookies.”

“Okay.”

She grabbed a shawl off the hook near the door before stepping
outside onto the porch. “What happened?” The door clicked closed behind her.

“It looked like they were going to vote to suspend you and hire another teacher on a temporary basis. Ellen’s cousin, Miss Todd. At least until they make up their minds what to do about … about the appearance of wrongdoing. I can’t say for sure about the vote. I was so angry, I walked out.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she was determined not to let Colin see them. She walked to the corner of the porch and put her right arm around the post while looking down First Street toward the schoolhouse.

“This is my fault, Felicia.” He didn’t move from his place near the door. “I’m the one who put your reputation and your job at risk. I wasn’t thinking straight, I guess. I should have realized how it could look to others, you coming to my house every night.”

“But you knew nothing was amiss. You’re a decent man.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

Yes, he was a decent man with a good heart, and she believed the Lord thought so too. Even if he shouldn’t have wanted to kiss her.

Right now, she wished he had kissed her.

“Whatever the board decides, this cottage is yours to stay in, Felicia. For as long as it takes to make things right.”

For as long as it takes to make things right. Would anything ever be right again?

“Did you hear me, Felicia?”

“Yes … Colin. I heard you.”

“I … I guess I’d best get Charity on home.”

“Yes, I suppose you should.”

“I’m sorry about all of this.”

“I know.”

“Felicia, I—”

“Good night, Colin.”

“Okay. Good night. We … we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

THIRTY

By a vote of four to three, the board voted to temporarily suspend Felicia’s teaching contract until further review. Walter Swanson, hat in hand, delivered the news to her on Sunday evening, half an hour after Colin took Charity home.

Felicia spent a sleepless, tearful night asking God why this was happening, what His plan was now, how she was to proceed. But if He answered, she couldn’t hear, perhaps because of the waves of fear that crashed over her again and again throughout the torturous hours before dawn.

Early on Monday morning, she rose, washed herself, dressed, and walked to the schoolhouse well before any of the children would arrive. She collected her few personal items from the teacher’s desk, then looked around the classroom while trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

In her mind, she pictured different children cleaning the blackboards at the end of the school day. She heard the youngest students reading from their primers, stumbling over words, grinning widely when they got things right. She saw R. J. Franklin, tall, handsome, so ready to break out of school and start living as an adult. She thought of the two orphan brothers from New York who had found parents to love them but who still needed help in adjusting to this very different world.

I had such hopes for them all.

She brushed away a tear.

She had a little money now, enough perhaps to get a room at a boardinghouse in Boise. But what work would she do once she got there? Become a maid? Find some sort of office work?

All I wanted to do was teach. It’s what I’ve wanted for so very long.

The sound of throat clearing broke into her thoughts, and she turned to find Walter Swanson and Mary Grace Todd standing in the entrance. Her heart plummeted. Her replacement had arrived.

Walter cleared his throat again. “Didn’t expect to find you here, Miss Kristoffersen.”

“It’s all right. I’m leaving.” She stepped off the platform and walked toward them.

Grace’s eyes were filled with pity.

Felicia stopped. “Miss Todd, you’ll find the lesson book on the desk and notations about each of the children. They should … they should help you get acquainted with the different needs of the students.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best by them. I promise.”

“I’m sure you will.” Eyes now downcast, she hurried past them. Once outside, she stopped on the landing and dragged a deep breath of crisp air into her lungs.

But she couldn’t linger. The children would begin arriving soon, and she couldn’t bear to face them. Not while her feelings were so raw and tender.

She all but ran the short distance to her cottage.

Colin was halfway between the barn and the back door of his house when he saw Felicia’s mad dash up the street. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, to comfort her, to promise that everything would be all right.

But what did “all right” mean?

Could he promise she would get her job back? No.

Could he promise that some folks in the community wouldn’t judge her harshly because of what Helen Summerville said? No.

So what could he promise her?

His hands felt empty, as did his heart.

He continued on into his house. Charity was at the table, finishing the last few bites of her breakfast.

“Ready for school?”

“Uh-huh.”

He drew a deep breath and released it. “There’s something you should know, pumpkin.”

“What?”

“Miss K won’t be teaching today.”

Charity stood. “Why not, Papa? Is she sick?”

“No, she isn’t sick.”
Except at heart.
“And I hope she’ll be back soon.”

The look in his daughter’s eyes told him she knew he’d evaded her question on purpose. But how did one explain something like this to a nine-year-old? Especially when he hardly understood it himself.

Two months ago, he’d still been opposed to hiring an untried, inexperienced teacher from Wyoming. Six weeks ago, he’d wanted to keep his daughter from becoming too attached to the new schoolmarm because he hadn’t expected her to stay in Frenchman’s Bluff for long.

But somewhere along the way, Felicia had come to mean something more to him, something that was hard for him to define, even in his own mind, something unlike anything he’d felt before. All he knew for certain was that the thought of her leaving Frenchman’s Bluff caused a weight to press on his chest. If she left, there would be an emptiness inside of him that no one else could fill.

“Papa?”

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you anything more, Charity. We’ll just have to be patient.”

Crestfallen, she nodded.

“I’ll take care of your dishes. You get your things and go on to school. Don’t want you to be late.”

“All right, Papa.”

He watched her leave the kitchen, shoulders slouched. He felt the way she looked.

How do I make things right?

He picked up the dishes and put them in the washbasin.

God, if You’re listening, I could use some guidance here.