Calico Brides (32 page)

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Authors: Darlene Franklin

BOOK: Calico Brides
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A glimmer of something—disappointment? Dis-couragement?—flittered across Beau’s face. “Allan already has his hands full with the farm. He was moping about school so much that I promised him he could continue lessons with you if he didn’t go around quoting poetry all day long.”

Ruth’s heart sank another inch. Schooling wasn’t the only problem. Allan’s heart wasn’t in the farm. Maybe Beau needed more time to recognize that. If she could get a job for Allan at the newspaper, Haydn could discuss subjects like philosophy and the classics with him as well as the prospects for this year’s crops.

Beau’s face darkened, and Ruth bit her lip.
Forgive me
,
Lord, for wanting to interfere where it’s none of my business
. “Of course I will do everything I can to help. For any interested students, we offer a reading club, music lessons, a class in the wifely arts. We’re also looking for men to teach our boys useful skills. The children are welcome to attend any of those classes, and I would be happy to tutor Allan and Guy two days a week.” Ruth caught herself. The way she was prattling on, Beau would think she was as bad as the older girls in her class, who turned into chattering magpies as soon as a handsome lad caught their eyes.

Beau rubbed his chin. “I might consider teaching a boys’ class next year. Right now it’s taking twenty-five hours out of every twenty-hour for Allan and me to try to get some kind of crop out of the ground before winter comes.”

Of course. “How foolish of me to suggest he do anything other than farm.” Flames licked her face, a rare fit of anger building up in her.

“Ruth?” Mama called to her from the kitchen. “Would you come in here and give me a hand, please?”

“I’ll be right back.” When Ruth stepped into the kitchen, she didn’t see any work to be done.

“Come over here by me.” Mama stood by the window, looking out on the apple tree that provided shade in the summer, fruit in the fall, and preserves year round. “Sounds as though you need to go outside and look for any fruit that’s ripened early. Unless you think you can bring yourself under control.” She leveled a look at Ruth that could have sunk the Spanish Armada. “That poor man is our guest. He’s just lost his only sister and found himself a father overnight. I know you don’t like the way he’s handling things, but don’t you dare say a thing against him.” Mama paused. “He’s not doing any
harm
to those young folks, is he?”

“Not unless you call wasting a good mind harm, which I do.” Ruth joined her mother at the window. “You’re right; he’s been gentle with them as far as I can tell. We just have different ideas about what’s best.”

“So did Barnabas and Paul about John Mark, and look what God did with that. Doubled the number of missionary teams. You just keep doing what God has called you to do.
Teach
. Sometimes it’s in the classroom and sometimes it’s by the side of the road.” Mama broke a gingersnap in two and handed her half. “Maybe one day you may even find yourself teaching a certain farmer a thing or two about raising children.”

Ruth almost choked on the cookie.

Mama hugged her. “Have you calmed down enough to go back in the room and be nice to Mr. Blanton?”

Ruth nodded. Shame followed on the heels of her earlier anger. Beau was standing, as if waiting for her return. Was it her imagination, or did a shadow of shame lie on his features as well?

“So can you tutor Guy and Allan on Mondays and Thursdays?” Beau repeated his earlier request.

“Of course.” Ruth extended her hand to shake his. “It will be my pleasure. I love teaching.”

His hand lingered on hers. “Once my life settles down, I’d like to teach the young men. I just can’t do it right now.”

“That would be wonderful if you want to. But not everyone is meant to be a teacher. Or a farmer.”

After he dropped her hand and said good-bye, Ruth realized she hadn’t thought about Allan once when she said not everyone was meant to be a farmer or a teacher.

She’d been too busy thinking about the tall, handsome farmer who was holding the teacher’s hand.

Chapter 7

G
uy stomped up the steps to the parsonage door. Allan followed right behind, shaking his head at his brother’s behavior.

Not a good day
. Today the boys might need more than Ruth’s tutoring.

“I’ve got them a bite to eat. That might help,” Mama whispered in Ruth’s ear.

Ruth waved them inside. “Good evening, Guy, Allan.” Ink and lead smudges darkened the knuckles of Guy’s calloused hands. “Let’s start in the kitchen. We can spread out our work there.”

Guy slammed the textbook on the table. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do arithmetic.”

Ruth bit back her automatic response of “Of course you can.” She had found that facts mattered little when a person’s emotions were involved. “I know it doesn’t come easy to you. I appreciate your hard work.”

“Work.” Guy made it sound like a curse. “The bank manager fired me today. I made too many mistakes in my figuring.” He broke a gingersnap between his teeth with an angry crunch.

Allan held out the chair for Ruth, and she slid into it soundlessly. He quietly set his satchel on the floor. The silence lengthened as if the boys waited for Teacher to perform some kind of magic on Guy’s situation.

“Oh Guy. I’m so sorry.” Her brain stumbled for a response.

“And Uncle Beau, he’s going to be mighty upset with me.”

“From what I’ve seen, your uncle is a reasonable man.” Ruth hoped one of the boys would speak up if they had a cause for concern.

“He would never hurt us.” Allan must have sensed her worries. “But he does have high expectations of all of us. He keeps telling us how he’s been a working cowboy since he was Guy’s age.” A slight shudder ran through Allan. Had his uncle been encouraging Guy to quit school and go to work?

She had waited long enough. She
had
to speak up.

“I’m coming home with you.”

“She’s pretty nice.” Dru spoke of the woman who had spent yesterday at the cabin tidying up and fixing a roast and vegetables they could eat over the next few days. Dru was kneading biscuit dough to eat with the leftover roast.

Beau grunted. He still was of two minds about hiring one of “Birdie’s girls,” as they seemed to be known. No one could deny the change in Birdie, but did that mean he should hire one of her friends to work in his home alongside his impressionable niece? Much better for her to be under the influence of someone like Ruth Fairfield, even if she did place too much value on school learning. Intelligent, kind, compassionate, someone who loved the Lord as much as her preacher father did.

Stop it
. If Beau kept this up, he’d sound like he was describing the woman from Proverbs 31.While he admired many of Ruth’s qualities, he didn’t want to marry her or anyone else. He expected marriage to come before children, but God had changed the order in his case, and he didn’t have time to court a lady properly.

Something rumbled outside, and Beau went to the door to check the sky. Even this late in the season, tornadoes were still possible.
Please, Lord, protect us from a bad storm while we still only have this dwelling of mud and sticks
.

Clouds scudded across the darkening sky, but no wind stirred the dead air. The rumble came from the ground, from horses’ hooves and wagon wheels. The boys were back early.

The wagon came into view, a second horse in the harness and a third figure in the wagon—Ruth Fairfield. She held the reins, pushing the horses to a faster speed than usual. As they approached, she pulled on the reins and stopped their progress. Drawn almost against his will, Beau approached and offered her his arm. “Good evening, Ruth.” Her name floated across his tongue like sweet honey. “Supper’s warm on the stove. Come on in and eat with us.”

Ruth took a seat on one of the rickety chairs inside the soddy. Allan took a seat on the single bed, and Guy sat beside him, his eyes trained on the floor. Allan tucked his book bag under the bed and fiddled with the strap, releasing it then cinching it again.

“Miss Fairfield!” Dru set down a plate of biscuits and flung her arms around her teacher. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Let me get you some coffee.”

“That would be nice, Dru.” Ruth waited, her hands folded in her lap. She accepted the mug from Dru, who then served her brothers. Allan waved it away, but Guy gulped the coffee like an elixir.

As soon as Ruth sipped the drink, Guy spoke. “Uncle Beau, I lost my job at the bank.”

Beau was flummoxed. He had never lost a job. The only people he had known to lose a job were either thieves or just plain lazy. Guy was neither of those things. Working his mouth, he came out with the words. “What happened?”

This time Guy looked at Ruth, who gave him a small, encouraging nod.

“I just couldn’t do the numbers right. I’ve never been good with numbers. Ask Miss Fairfield.”

She nodded regretfully. “Math has always been… difficult…for Guy. He’s a fine young man but not suited to work at the bank.”

Beau still didn’t understand the problem. “That’s why I asked you to tutor him at night, to catch him up on his figures.”

Alan glanced at Ruth, who said, “That’s not the answer. Guy can do arithmetic well enough for most things, but a banker needs a feel for numbers. Guy’s interests lie in other areas.”

Beau snorted. Guy’s
interests?
Most of the time life didn’t consist of a list of choices. A man figured out what he was supposed to do then went ahead and did it. That was it.

The two boys scooted closer together on the bed, and Dru joined them. This felt like a conspiracy.

Allan sat tall, his shoulders getting broad enough to equal Beau’s own. “The thing is, I would love a job at the bank instead of working out here at the farm. You’ve seen me around here. I’m more likely to hit my thumb than a nail with the hammer. Sometimes I feel like I can barely tell the difference between a bull and a steer. But I’d do well at the bank, I know I would.”

Guy looked up. “And I go to school ’cause Ma and Pa expected it, but my favorite times are in the fields.” He dropped his gaze again.

Ruth drained her cup. “There is a simple solution. Let Allan and Guy switch places. I wish they could both continue in school full-time, but Allan doesn’t need much before he’s ready to apply for the university, if he has a mind to when the time is right. And Guy would relieve some of your anxiety about the farm.”

“Do you have any tricks up your sleeve for Dru?”

The girl squirmed in her spot next to Guy.

“Unfortunately, no.” Ruth turned a tender smile on Dru. “I think you are all coping admirably in very hard circumstances. My preferences, as you can imagine, would have all three in school full-time. But I believe my suggestions may help make the best of a difficult situation.”

Anger stung Beau. He had managed to keep outsiders from intruding on his life since he struck out on his own. Ruth Fairfield was determined to give him advice whether he wanted it or not. Not that advice was always unwelcome— he had asked for advice more than once—but never from a stranger and certainly not from a woman. Even a woman as sensible and as pretty as this one was. “We can try it your way.”

Dru giggled, and Guy seemed to grow two inches.

“For two weeks. If things aren’t any better by then, I’ll decide what needs to be changed.”

Ruth nodded, smiling, as if ready to join him for another conference in a fortnight.

“On my own. I don’t appreciate interference in my family’s affairs, and I don’t believe Charlotte or Percy did either.”

Ruth’s smile dimmed. “Of course, the bank president has to agree to Allan taking the job, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to do so.”

We’ll see
. Beau took the coffee Ruth poured for him.
We’ll see
.

A month later, Allan was happily settled at the bank, covering nearly as much in his biweekly tutoring as he had while attending school full-time. He could apply for university next fall—Haydn would love to write a reference for him— but Ruth knew Beau was opposed to that. He didn’t have to say a word.

Guy was happier than he ever had been in class. His hours at the farm, doing work he loved, made him appreciate the breaks for classes. He would never make a bank clerk or a reporter, but he had a good grounding in reading, writing, and arithmetic, as well as American history and geography, and a natural knack for leadership that emerged as he found more confidence in his growing body.

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