Courting Miss Amsel (11 page)

Chapter
FOURTEEN

“I’m glad the young’uns are so all-fired eager to help.” Across the dinner table from Edythe, Luthenia sopped gravy with a folded slice of bread. “Tells me they don’t care for William’s shenanigans. Also tells me they think a good deal of their schoolmarm.”

Remembering the children’s enthusiasm, some of them sharing how much it bothered them to witness their teacher’s frustration, Edythe knew she’d gained their affection. But their feelings toward her might crumble if William continued to rule the schoolhouse.

Luthenia raised one eyebrow. “But can you ignore everything? How’s it gonna work when he starts dippin’ some girl’s pigtail in the inkwell again?”

She and the students had discussed several different situations and how to handle them. Dunking a pigtail in an inkwell was one of the first issues mentioned. “Martha is bringing a supply of hairpins to school, and she intends to pin up the girls’ braids. If they aren’t dangling, William won’t be able to dip them in the inkwell.”

“Sound thinkin’.” Luthenia munched the last bite of her bread, her forehead crinkled in thought. “An’ out on the schoolyard, when he gets impish an’ starts trippin’ or pushin’? Somebody might get hurt.”

Edythe wished her landlady wouldn’t point out the weak parts of her new plan. She had nothing else on which to draw – ignoring William
had
to work. “There may be times I’ll need to intervene for the safety of the other children. But if they play their games as if he doesn’t exist, I trust eventually he’ll grow tired of being left out and will choose to behave simply to be included again.”

“So you’re all really gonna pretend he’s not even there?”

The woman still sounded skeptical. Edythe reined in her misgivings. “That’s right. When he’s misbehaving, he’ll be invisible. But the moment he behaves appropriately, he will be immediately acknowledged. He’ll receive attention for good behavior rather than bad.”

Clicking her tongue against her teeth, Luthenia stabbed a chunk of tender beef from the serving bowl in the middle of the table and plopped it on her plate. “I still think you oughtta – ”

“I
know
what you think!” Edythe hadn’t intended to snap. She lowered her fork and sent the older woman a penitent look. “I’m sorry. But I’ve made my feelings quite clear about using a switch.”

Luthenia waved her hand. “Oh, botheration, I’m sorry, too. Seems like such an easy fix – light a fire in his britches an’
make
him be good. Prob’ly easier for a man teacher than a lady to swing a switch. I should let you run things your way, just like I keep tellin’ the others in town.” Luthenia’s face flooded with pink.

A prickle of apprehension climbed Edythe’s spine. “Have people in town expressed concern to you?”

Luthenia began hacking her slice of meat into bite-sized pieces. “Oh, you know how folks like to blather. They’re just curious about your newfangled ways o’ teachin’, that’s all. Don’t make much sense to ’em. Readin’, writin’, cipherin’ . . . them are the subjects most think are good enough for the young’uns.”

Her words tumbled out faster, and bits of meat scooted around her plate as she continued. “I keep tellin’ ’em the youngsters’re lucky to have a teacher as young an’ smart an’ full of ideas as you. Good for ’em to expand their thinkin’ beyond the ordinary. So you don’t worry none about the old naysayers an’ do what you been called to do – teach.”

Edythe twisted her lips as she thought about what Luthenia had revealed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, based on the questioning I received during some of my visits to the students’ families. But I truly thought my assurances had put everyone’s fears to rest. Except for Mr. Libolt’s, of course.” The man scowled at her in church or when their paths crossed in town. Yet she clung to the hope that
all
the town council members, including Mr. Libolt, would eventually come to accept her ways of teaching. She’d grown to love the children – well, with the exception of William Sholes – and she wished to remain in Walnut Hill for several years so she could watch the children grow into maturity.

“Hank Libolt’s a noisy one, for sure.” Luthenia released a snort of laughter. “Maybe we could get the town to do like your pupils’re gonna do with William. Not much fun to blabber when nobody’ll listen.”

Edythe imagined Mr. Libolt standing in the middle of the street, shouting his opinions, while everyone scurried on with their own business, oblivious to his noisy haranguing. Despite her earlier irritation, she giggled.

A creak sounded from the stairs, and Edythe turned and glimpsed a pair of bare feet beneath the hem of a nightgown. “Missy, why didn’t you call me? I would have helped you.” She leaped up to meet her sister. Curling her arm around Missy’s waist, she accompanied her the rest of the way into the kitchen.

When they reached the table, Edythe pulled loose and shook her finger. “Until you’ve regained your strength, do not go up or down the stairs on your own.”

Missy scowled. “I called for help, but you were talking and didn’t hear me. So I came down by myself.” She tossed her head and sniffed. “Besides, I’m not a baby, you know.”

“Of course you’re not.” Luthenia bustled forward and gently pressed Missy into a chair. “But you hardly have the strength of a newborn lamb right now.” Luthenia flashed a quick grin at Edythe, then reached for a clean plate. “Now that you’re awake, I expect you to eat a goodly portion of beef an’ taters. Food’ll help build your strength so your sister can stop frettin’ over you.”

“She stopped frettin’ over me a long time ago.”

Missy’s mumbled words stung Edythe’s heart, but before she could reply, Luthenia came to her defense. “Don’t be mistakin’ movin’ on with her life as a sign of not carin’ for you.” Luthenia reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Missy’s ear. “She cares about you a heap, Missy.”

Missy twisted her face away from Luthenia’s touch and didn’t reply. Luthenia sighed and ladled food from the serving bowls onto Missy’s plate. Watching, Edythe battled between taking Missy to task for treating the dear older woman so rudely and wrapping her sister in her arms. What had happened to create such fury within Missy and send her on a lengthy journey by herself? So far, Missy had refused to answer any of Edythe’s gently worded questions. When the girl was completely well again, the two sisters would have a serious talk.

She placed her hand on Missy’s arm. “Are you chilly? I can get my robe for you.” For a moment, it appeared Missy would refuse, but then she gave a slight nod. Edythe dashed up the stairs to retrieve the robe. It was her favorite – one she’d sewn for her mother when she lay ill after Missy’s birth and complained that she never felt warm. Putting on the robe always made Edythe feel as though she was wrapped in her mother’s presence. She hoped it would have the same effect for Missy.

With the robe over her arm, she hurried back downstairs and found Missy cautiously lifting small bites of gravy-soaked potatoes to her mouth. Edythe couldn’t hold back a smile of relief. “It’s so good to see you eating! Here, stand up for a minute . . .” She placed the robe over Missy’s shoulders. “That should keep you toasty warm.”

Missy slid back into the chair and went on eating in silence.

Edythe caught Luthenia looking at Missy. With her brows low and lips pinched tight, she seemed to hold back a sharp comment. But when she met Edythe’s gaze, her face relaxed into a smile. “I know you’ve got papers to grade. Let me clear off your side of the table while you fetch your work. Then you can sit down there an’ get started while Missy finishes up her supper. She’s slept most of the day away all by herself upstairs – I reckon she’ll be happy to have your company while she eats.”

Edythe looked at Missy, hoping for some sign of confirmation that her sister would enjoy having her company. But Missy kept her head low, seemingly oblivious to the conversation around her. Edythe inched toward the stairway. She was halfway up the stairs when someone pounded on the front door. An angry voice called, “Where’s the schoolmarm?”

Even though Edythe couldn’t see the person, she recognized the voice. She scurried back down. Missy shot her an apprehensive look, and she managed to offer a quick smile of assurance before entering the parlor, her head high. “Good evening, Mr. Libolt.”

The man charged forward, forcing Luthenia to stumble backward or be run down. A severe frown turned his face into a series of deep furrows. “My young’uns came home today with some tale about how they’re gonna make the Sholes boy behave in school.”

Edythe cringed. Apparently she hadn’t emphasized the need for secrecy stringently enough. Their carefully laid plans would be destroyed if William knew what they were doing.

Mr. Libolt’s cheeks mottled red. “Not only are you teachin’ worthless subjects, now you’re expectin’ the young’uns to control one of their own? Lady, I’m to the point of tellin’ the town council we made a mistake by askin’ you to teach here in Walnut Hill. If you don’t stop this foolishness an’
do your job
, then I’m gonna see to it you won’t be teachin’ here no more – an’ no place else, either, if I can help it.”

Fire attacked Edythe’s face. She wanted to defend herself, but she could hardly draw breath. She willed herself to calm, to find words that would diffuse the situation. But before anything formed on her lips, Luthenia bolted forward.

“Hank Libolt, you got a lot of nerve bargin’ into my home an’ flingin’ threats.”

Edythe tried to wiggle her way in front of the landlady, but Luthenia thrust out her elbow, holding Edythe back. The diminutive woman stood on tiptoe, bringing herself nose to nose with the man. She reminded Edythe of a bluebird attacking a hawk.

“How can you say Miss Amsel isn’t doin’ her job? Are the young’uns learnin’? Yes! Are they enjoyin’ bein’ in school? Yes!”

Mr. Libolt thundered, “She was hired to – ”

“Teach!” Luthenia didn’t back down an inch. “An’ that’s exactly what she’s doin’!”

“She’s teachin’ nonsense!”

Had the pair forgotten Edythe was in the room? This should be her fight. She pushed her way between the two. “Luthenia, please go see to Missy.” Luthenia pinched her lips into a grim line, but she marched into the kitchen without another word. Edythe faced her nemesis. “And, Mr. Libolt, kindly temper your voice. I don’t expect you to approve of everything I’ve done, but I do expect to be treated respectfully.”

Mr. Libolt opened his mouth as if ready to bellow, but then he gulped and drew in a deep breath. When he spoke again, his tone was harsh but no longer at full volume. “I’ve held my tongue on your strange teachin’ methods” – a snort carried from the kitchen, letting Edythe know Luthenia was listening to every word – “but I won’t be silent on this. It ain’t the pupils’ responsibility to make one o’ their own behave.”

“You’re right – it’s
my
responsibility to maintain order. Just as it’s my responsibility to keep the schoolhouse clean and the woodstove blazing.” Edythe assumed the kind, reasonable tone she’d perfected when quelling her father’s irrational rants. “But someone else makes sure the woodpile is well stocked.” A picture of Joel Townsend flashed through Edythe’s mind, but she pushed the image aside. “The town council provides cleaning supplies for my use. The responsibility is mine, yet others contribute.”

Mr. Libolt’s face was slowly returning to its normal color. Gratified, Edythe went on. “I’ve concocted a means of denying William what he desires – attention. But for the discipline to be effective, I will require assistance. Just as the townsfolk and town council assist in providing supplies for the school, the students will assist in William’s discipline. After all, bringing an end to his troublemaking will be to their benefit, too.”

For long seconds, the man remained silent, his jaw muscles twitching. Then he huffed. “Fine. I won’t share my worries with the other members of the town council . . . for now.” He aimed a thick finger at her nose. “But I’m gonna be watchin’. An’ mark my words – if I’m still feelin’ this unsettled by the end o’ the year, I can guarantee you won’t be asked back again.”

He grunted, smacked his hat onto his head, and slammed out the door.

Edythe sucked in a mighty breath, her chest heaving with the intake of air. She released it in a whoosh and then turned toward the kitchen. Missy, her face ashen, stood in the doorway. She stumbled forward a few steps, dragging the hem of Mama’s robe across the floor. “Edie, I don’t like this place. It’s just like Pa said – you’re not doin’ any good here.”

Missy’s words pierced Edythe to the depth of her soul. She’d thought she’d escaped her father’s gloomy discourses, but now his scornful voice filled her ears, carried by her beloved sister. She pressed her palms to her aching heart, wishing she could cover her ears instead.

“Please . . .” Tears swam in Missy’s eyes. “Can’t we go back to Omaha?”

Chapter
FIFTEEN

As Edythe walked to school on Friday morning, she reflected on the past two weeks. There had been times she’d nearly swallowed her tongue to keep from laughing. William Sholes’s obvious confusion when his pranks went unacknowledged was the most comical thing she’d ever seen. And her other pupils had never been so intent on their studies. Ignoring William seemed to have a positive effect on their concentration.

A chilly gust lifted her scarf and tossed it over her face. She shook her head, dislodging it, then shivered. With the end of November waiting around the corner, it wouldn’t be long before the first snow fell. The short walk from town to the schoolhouse, which had been pleasant in the early fall, would quickly lose its charm when she had to trudge through snow. Yet there was a magic to the first snowfall. She’d have the children go out and arrange themselves from tallest to shortest and then make a line of snow angels. Surely she could invent a lesson on measurement to correlate with the activity.

Lost in thought, Edythe almost missed seeing William hunched on the schoolhouse steps. He pushed to his feet as she approached. Judging by his rosy nose, cheeks, and ears, he’d been at the schoolhouse for quite a while already. He shifted from foot to foot, blowing on his hands as she closed the distance between them.

“William?” She paused at the base of the stairs. “Why are you here so early?” He always arrived before the other children, but he’d never beaten her to school.

“So cold this mornin’, thought you might want help gettin’ the stove goin’.”

William Sholes wanted to be helpful? Edythe blinked in pleased surprise. “Th-that’s very thoughtful of you. I would appreciate assistance. Why don’t you gather an armload of wood while I unlock the doors?”

He darted off without a word, and Edythe quickly entered the building. Her body shuddered in appreciation of being out of the gusting wind, yet the room held a sharp chill. She deposited her armload of books on her desk and removed her scarf. As she hung it on a hook, William burst into the room with several short logs balanced in his arms.

She reached for the wood. “I’ll get the fire blazing quickly so you can warm up.”

“I’ll start the stove.”

Edythe paused, uncertain. Should she allow one of her students to bank the stove?

“I do it at home all the time. Won’tcha let me?”

His hopeful grin melted Edythe. “Very well. Thank you, William.”

William spun toward the stove and clanked the door open. Leaving him to work, Edythe returned to her desk and organized her books for today’s lessons. One by one, the children arrived, their cheeks reddened from cold. William greeted each by name and invited them to warm up by the stove. Although they cast puzzled glances in their teacher’s direction, all but Jane Heidrich accepted his invitation. The middle of the room became crowded with the children huddling around the round-bellied stove, their hands outstretched to catch the warmth.

William wiggled his way to the outside of the group, a smile on his face. Edythe silently rejoiced at his pleasure in making things comfortable for his classmates. She marveled that the boy who usually pushed his way to the center now stood on the outer rim, allowing the smaller children the warmest spot in the room. Apparently his desire to be included had overcome his desire to create conflict. Ignoring him had worked! She congratulated herself on the transformation. Wouldn’t Mr. Townsend be pleased?

She gave a little start. All of the parents should be pleased to have William’s misbehavior under control. Why had she focused on Mr. Townsend?

Clapping her palms briskly, she addressed the class. “Take your seats. We need to start our day.” Looking directly at William, she added, “Thank you, William, for getting the fire started this morning.”

The boy straightened his shoulders, his head held high. “You’re welcome, Miss Amsel.”

Still smiling, she opened her roll book and put a check beside the names of the students in attendance. All but Johnny and Robert Townsend were present. Edythe scowled at their empty desk. Something must be amiss – they’d never been late before. Worry nibbled at the fringes of her mind, but she pushed it aside.

“Shall we start with a Scripture reading? Perhaps something from Psalms.” She lifted the Bible from the corner of her desk. Left behind by the previous teacher, the Bible’s worn cover felt smooth and comfortable in her hands. The town council encouraged using the Bible in the classroom, and Edythe had no objections. She had discovered it was a peaceful way to begin their day. Considering the wonderful change she’d witnessed in William, it seemed especially appropriate to read from God’s holy book today.

She flipped the pages open to Psalm 139 and began to read. “ ‘O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.’ ” Her voice caught as the meaning of the beautifully woven words settled around her heart. Might it be that God Almighty knew Edythe Amsel’s every thought? Could He understand how much she wanted to guide and protect and teach these children?

She flicked a glance at the pupils. All peered back at her, hands folded on desks, faces attentive. She continued. “ ‘Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. For there – ’ ”

A sudden
pop!
interrupted. Edythe jumped, nearly dropping the Bible.

“What was that?” Ada Wolcott exclaimed, her eyes wide. The children looked around and murmured in confusion.

Although similar in sound to a firecracker, the pop had seemed much less intense. Had it come from a distance? Edythe crossed to the window and peeked out at the brown landscape. From behind her, a
pop-pop!
exploded. This time she realized it had come from the stove.

The children bolted from their desks, their voices rising in alarm. Jenny Scheebeck began to cry. Edythe raised her hands to restore order. “Children, sit down, please. Remain calm.” They continued to mutter excitedly, but they slipped back into their desks. Only William Sholes hadn’t leapt to his feet. He sat with his hands folded, a satisfied smile on his face, not at all concerned.

Remembering his eagerness to light the stove this morning, a feeling of dread crept up Edythe’s spine. Stepping down the center aisle, she approached William’s desk. “William, what – ” Before she could complete her sentence, a foul odor filled the air.

The girls shrieked and the boys coughed. Little Will Libolt bent over his desk, gagging. The children covered their noses. Although Edythe wished to remain composed, the stench made her stomach roll. She staggered backward two steps, trying to escape the odor. But it followed her. William pinched his nose, but his smile remained intact.

Her eyes watering, Edythe pinned the boy with the sternest gaze she could muster. “William, what is this . . .” She couldn’t think of a word strong enough to define the odor. She waved her hands, indicating the smell that filled every corner of the room.

William smirked behind his hand, his lips slightly parted.

The intensity of the odor made her sick. Tears ran from her eyes. The children wailed and spluttered, begging her to do something to make the smell go away. Edythe grabbed William by the shirt front and gave him a shake. “What did you do?”

“Smells like rotten eggs to me.”

The deep male voice carried over the sounds of the children’s distress. Edythe released William and spun toward the cloakroom door. Joel Townsend strode forward, leaving Johnny and Robert huddling together in the doorway with their hands clamped over their noses. The man moved to the nearest window and screeched it open. Air whisked into the room – frigid but with a welcome fresh scent.

While Mr. Townsend opened the windows on the north side of the room, she opened those on the south. The room quickly turned cold with the cross breeze, but mercifully, the odor lost its bitter bite. The children sank back into their desks, hugging themselves and jabbering. Edythe’s shoulders sagged. So much for bringing William under control. This had been his most disruptive prank to date.

Mr. Townsend ambled to William’s desk and propped his hand on its corner. “Was I right? Rotten eggs?”

William scowled, but he nodded.

“Put ’em in the stove, did you?”

Again William nodded, slinking low in his seat.

Edythe gawked at the boy. Where did he get such ideas?

Mr. Townsend turned to face Edythe. “It’s gonna stink like the dickens for a while, I’m afraid.” He tugged his jacket collar around his clean-shaven jaw. Edythe noted he had a nice jawline – firm and square. She gave her head a little shake. Apparently the odor had leaked past her nose into her brain, jumbling her thoughts. She focused on his next words. “Leave the windows open all morning – hopefully that’ll be long enough to clear the smell.”

“M-miss Amsel?” Sophie Jeffers raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m c-c-cold!”

Several others added their agreement.

“Well, we don’t have much choice.” She heard the tartness in her voice and immediately tempered her tone. “Fetch your coats, children. While the windows are open we’ll stay bundled to stave off a chill.” The children dashed for the cloakroom, their feet thundering on the planked floor. Edythe clamped her teeth together. If everyone came down with fevers because of William’s prank, she just might break her resolve and take a switch to the boy after all.

Edythe drew Mr. Townsend to the far corner of the room. “Thank you for your assistance with the windows. I don’t know why I didn’t think to open them.”

His grin revealed the dimple in his left cheek. “I reckon your mind was on other things.”

“Yes.” She shot a sour look toward William. He hadn’t retrieved his coat but sat low in his seat with his shoulders hunched.

Mr. Townsend dipped his head toward the boys. “Sorry I had them here late this mornin’. I went out to milk, and my cow had escaped her enclosure. Had to round her up and then milk her before I could get the boys’ breakfast. Didn’t want to send ’em on an empty stomach.” He chuckled. “ ’Course, if I’d known you were cookin’ eggs in the heat stove . . .”

Despite her aggravation with William, she chuckled. How wonderful to find some humor in this trying situation. She rested her fingertips on Mr. Townsend’s forearm. “Thank you for making me laugh. I sorely needed it.”

A soft smile lit his eyes. Then he gave a little jerk and shuffled toward the door. “I best skedaddle an’ let you get to teachin’.” He waved good-bye to the boys and clomped out the door.

Edythe watched him go, an odd sadness clawing at her heart. As if in response to her inner feelings, a childish voice began to wail. Jenny Scheebeck drew up her knees and buried her face in her lap.

Edythe hurried to Jenny’s bench and put her arm around the little girl’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, Jenny? Are you still cold?”

“No’m.” Jenny snuffled, her face hidden. “I’m sad.”

Me too.
Yet she couldn’t pinpoint the complete reason for her sadness. Edythe caught Jenny’s chin and lifted her face. “Why are you sad?”

Jenny’s eyes filled and spilled over. “I promised to ignore anything bad that William done, but I didn’t ignore the stink. I’m sorry I didn’t mind you!”

Edythe shot a quick look at the class. William’s knowing smirk taunted her, and she stifled a sigh. “Everyone take out your McGuffey Readers and turn to the stories we started yesterday. Read quietly for a few minutes.” She turned her attention to consoling Jenny. She wished someone could console her.

Clearly, she hadn’t made any progress with William. And now, thanks to Jenny’s innocent outburst, continuing to ignore him would be useless. She’d assured Mr. Libolt she could do the job she’d been hired to do.
But can I really?