Courting Miss Amsel (25 page)

Chapter
THIRTY-NINE

Edythe relaxed as Luthenia’s fingertips massaged her soapy hair. Foamy water lapped against her chin, the warmth welcome after the chilly plunge into the Platte River. Not since she was a small girl had anyone assisted her with a bath. She wouldn’t have imagined allowing someone to assist her now, but today it felt perfectly natural to succumb to Luthenia’s ministrations. Perhaps surrendering herself to God’s care had opened her to the idea of releasing a bit of her stubborn independence.

Missy fidgeted on the edge of a kitchen chair, nibbling her nails. Edythe caught her sister’s eye. “Stop looking so worried over there. I’m fine, you know.”

“But you could’ve drowned!” Tears flooded Missy’s tawny eyes. “What if somethin’ happened to you?”

The cooler air of the room attacked her moist flesh, raising goose pimples as Edythe lifted her hand from the water to give Missy’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “There’s no sense in worrying over ‘what if.’ Besides, Missy . . .” Her eyes slipped closed as she relived that wondrous moment when God’s strength had infused her frame. “I’ve come to realize there’s Someone bigger and stronger who will always be there to take care of you, even if I’m not. Lean on Him, and you’ll always have what you need to make it through.”

Luthenia’s fingers ceased their massage. She tugged Edythe’s head backward to peer directly into her face. “Are you tellin’ me you’ve finally decided to let God take control instead of grabbin’ it for yourself?”

Edythe laughed. “Well, isn’t that what you prayed for?”

“Thank You, good Lord Almighty!” Luthenia threw both hands in the air, sending a shower of filmy soap suds in all directions. She pressed her cheek to the top of Edythe’s head. “Oh, dear girl, you’ve made my heart so happy it just might burst clean in two.”

Missy slipped to her knees beside the tub. “What are you talking about?”

Luthenia began pouring cupfuls of water over Edythe’s head. “Your sister discovered the joy of leanin’ into God’s strength. Sure am sorry it took such a scary event to make it happen, but sometimes we gotta face a mighty storm to realize just how much we need a shelter.”

Edythe swiped soapy water from her eyes. “You’re right, Luthenia. God is a shelter – I literally felt the warmth of His presence on that riverbank before I went in after Robert.”

Missy stared at Edythe with wide eyes. “Did William really push him in?”

Edythe recalled Robert reciting the events that led to his frightening downriver ride. “He did.” Her heart constricted. She hoped William only intended to give Robert a soaking, underestimating the strength of the river. Or perhaps he hadn’t meant for Robert to fall into the water at all. Surely the boy wasn’t so malicious he’d try to drown a smaller child. “William said I’d be sorry I dismissed him from school, but I certainly didn’t expect him to take out his anger on one of my students. I thought he’d do something to me.”

“He
did
do somethin’ to you.” Luthenia wiped her hands on her water-spattered apron. “He knows how much you love the kids in your class. By hurtin’ one of them, he was sure to hurt you.”

Edythe released a heavy sigh. “I’m just so grateful Robert is all right.”

“I don’t imagine William’s doin’ so well right now, though.” Luthenia’s lips formed a grim line. “Menfolk out lookin’ for you an’ Robert found William skulkin’ in the bushes alongside the road, blubberin’ how he’d killed Robert for sure. They hauled him home to his pa an’ made the boy ’fess up before they left. Last they saw, Lloyd was draggin’ William into the woodshed. I reckon it’ll be a while before William pulls another of his pranks.”

Edythe took little pleasure in William’s chastisement. Perhaps if Lloyd Sholes had shared in the discipline of his son earlier, Robert could have been spared today’s fright. Then she gave a little start. If Robert hadn’t fallen into the river, she might never have called upon God for help.

Her gaze fell on the wall clock, and she let out a gasp. “The meeting at the church starts in less than twenty minutes! I need to get dressed.” She reached for the towel draped across the nearest chair.

Luthenia clicked her tongue against her teeth while Edythe frantically wrapped herself in the length of rough cloth. “You ain’t goin’ to any meetin’ tonight.”

“But – ”

“You got yourself good an’ soaked in an icy river rescuin’ one of Walnut Hill’s young’uns.” Luthenia plunked her hands on her hips. “Nobody’s gonna expect you to be at that meetin’. Only place you’re goin’ is up to bed with a cup o’ hot tea, an’ that’s that.”

Edythe bit her lower lip, uncertain. “Bed does sound heavenly.”

Luthenia picked up Edythe’s discarded clothes and gave them a toss through the pantry door. “I’ll mosey on over to the church an’ sit in on the meetin’ for you so I can tell you all about it.” She shrugged. “You bein’ there won’t change the outcome no how.”

Missy followed Edythe to the staircase. “Edie, do you think they’ll keep you, since you saved Robert today?”

Edythe held the towel with one hand and brushed Missy’s cheek with the other. “What I did today doesn’t have anything to do with my teaching methods. I don’t think today’s events will change anyone’s mind about me as the schoolmarm.”

“So we still have to leave?”

Pain stabbed Edythe’s chest. How she hated to see her sister disappointed again. “Let’s pray for God’s will. What He wants for us is better than what we want for ourselves.”
God, You gave me the strength to face that raging river today. Can You give me the strength to accept whatever You have in mind for Missy and me?

“I’ll join you in that prayer.” Luthenia bustled across the kitchen and slung her arms around Edythe’s and Missy’s shoulders. The three bowed their heads, and Edythe placed her concerns into God’s capable hands.

Joel hated to leave the boys alone after their harrowing day, but Robert fell asleep right after supper. The doctor had said sleep was the best medicine for the boy, so Joel didn’t want to rouse him for a ride to town. But he couldn’t stay away from the meeting that would determine Miss Amsel’s fate.

He closed the bedroom door and moved to the dry sink, where Johnny scrubbed the supper dishes. “Will you be all right here if I go on into town?”

Johnny flicked a glance at the closed bedroom door. “Robert sleepin’?”

“Yep.”

“We’ll be all right. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

His solemn tone and serious face, too old for his not-quite-nine years, tugged at Joel’s heart. He pulled the boy into a hug. “Thank you, son. Soon as the meetin’s over, I’ll be right home. You close the damper on the stove an’ go to bed when you’re finished with the dishes. You had a big day, too.”

Johnny sighed. “Sure am sorry Robert got so scared. Sorry we didn’t get those trees brought to the school, too. We didn’t even get to have our picnic.”

Joel tousled Johnny’s hair. “If I know your schoolmarm, she’ll make sure you get that picnic. As for the trees . . .” An idea started ticking in the back of his mind. “Don’t worry. Your schoolyard’ll get some trees, too.”

He plopped his hat onto his head and trotted to the barn. Rather than hitching the wagon, he saddled Jody and rode the horse to town. The pale sky, all rosy in the west as the sun slinked downward, made for a pleasant backdrop. But Joel’s thoughts were troubled. Maribelle had indicated she’d be at the meeting. After coming close to blurting out his love for the schoolmarm on the riverbank today, he didn’t know how he’d be able to look Maribelle in the face without her seeing guilt in his eyes.

Lord, help me. I made a commitment, an’ I’m duty-bound to honor it. Maribelle hasn’t changed. Isn’t fair to make her suffer because I acted foolishly. Help me do what’s right for all of us.

He slipped into the meeting late, but Maribelle had held a spot for him. He listened to Hank Libolt share his concerns about Miss Amsel’s unconventional ways. It seemed the man lacked some of his usual bluster, however. Maybe the schoolmarm’s unselfish actions today had softened the bullheaded man just a bit.

With Maribelle beside him, Joel held his tongue in speaking words of support for Miss Amsel. He felt as though he failed Miss Amsel by staying silent, but speaking up would somehow be traitorous to the woman he’d pledged to marry. So he let others do the talking, and silently cheered when the Scheebecks, Jefferses, Sterbinzes, and Ellsworths all indicated approval of the schoolmarm.

At the end of the meeting, Hank Libolt asked for a vote. It split evenly with eleven votes to retain Miss Amsel and eleven votes to close school early and discharge the teacher. Libolt cleared his throat. “Lloyd an’ Betsy Sholes aren’t here tonight to give their vote. They can give it come Sunday, when we’re all gathered here again. Then we’ll have a final count.”

Joel’s heart sank. Neither of the Sholeses would vote in favor of Miss Amsel – not after she’d dismissed their son. Edythe was as good as gone. People shuffled out the door, talking quietly. Maribelle curled her hands around Joel’s elbow as they moved into the churchyard. He escorted her to her wagon, but she didn’t climb up. Instead, she placed both palms against his chest, peering up at him with wide, probing eyes.

“Joel, we need to talk.”

He rubbed his finger under his nose, hoping the double-thud of his heartbeat didn’t come clear through to her hands. “I left the boys alone. I oughtta get back.”

Her fingers curled, catching the fabric of his shirt. “It’s important.”

He gently removed her hands from his shirt. “All right, then. But hurry.”

She pursed her lips into a disgruntled scowl, but she didn’t step away from him. “You know Terrill Sterbinz and me kept company . . . an’ then parted ways. The partin’ ways was my idea.” She ducked her head, toying with a button at the throat of her dress. “I liked Terrill – I really did – but there was one thing I couldn’t set aside. He wanted us to get married an’ then live with his ma an’ brothers an’ sister. He said I could be a big help in takin’ care of the house an’ the farm an’ so forth. I admired him for wantin’ to look after his family. But . . .” Her chin lifted, her gaze seeking his. “I couldn’t help thinkin’ he didn’t want a wife as much as somebody to ease his ma’s load.”

Joel’s stomach flipped.

“Maybe I’m wrong – an’ if I am, I apologize – but I worry that’s why you asked to marry up with me. Not because you have such fondness for me, but because you need somebody to come in an’ help ease the load of carin’ for your house an’ your nephews.”

Joel stifled a groan. “Maribelle, I – ”

“I like you. I have for a long time, an’ havin’ you callin’ on me was like a dream comin’ to life. But . . .” Tears winked in her eyes. “Now I’m not sure. Spendin’ time with Johnny an’ Robert in little snatches is fine, but I don’t know about takin’ ’em on full time. It’s scary to me.” She blinked rapidly.

Joel curled his hands around her upper arms. “The boys aren’t goin’ anywhere, Maribelle. Not to some school or anyplace else. Even if they weren’t born to me, I love ’em. An’ if you marry me, you’ll have to love ’em, too.” His heart clenched at the worry reflected in her eyes, yet he didn’t have the means to set her fears to rest.

“You want me to love your boys, but . . .” She gulped, her fingers twitching beneath her chin. “You still haven’t said whether you love me.” She seemed to hold her breath, looking into Joel’s face with expectation.

He couldn’t speak.

She waited for long seconds, her body so still it appeared she’d turned to stone. And then her breath whooshed out in a rush. She turned her face away. “I think my bein’ with you is too much dream an’ not enough truth to carry me for the rest of my life.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.” And he was. Sorry for tangling her in his selfish needs. Sorry for running ahead of God’s plan for him. Sorry . . .

She started to climb into her wagon, but her skirts hindered her. Joel caught her around the waist and lifted her onto the seat. She glanced at him, her lips quivering and her face white. “Thank you.” Softly. Politely. Then she flicked the reins and the horse jolted forward.

Joel watched the wagon roll away in the dusk. Although neither of them had said so, he knew their betrothal was broken. He’d willingly take the blame and let Maribelle criticize him all over town if she wanted to. Because even though he was sorry he’d hurt her, he’d never been so relieved in all his life.

Chapter
FORTY

“We vote to let her stay.”

Edythe shook her head, unsure she’d heard correctly. Missy let out a delighted gasp and clutched Edythe’s hand.

Lloyd Sholes stood at the front of the church with his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, his face set in a resigned frown. “The missus an’ me, we decided we owed her after the trouble William caused.” He shuffled back to his bench and plopped down beside his wife.

Hank Libolt stared after him, looking as stunned as Edythe felt. Libolt said, “I reckon since that’s thirteen for an’ eleven against, the town council will be keepin’ Miss Amsel on ’til the end of this term.”

“What about next year?” The question came from Mrs. Jeffers.

Mr. Libolt scowled. “Town council already decided to – ”

“An’ I think you oughtta reconsider,” the woman said in a tart tone. Murmurs followed.

Edythe shook loose of Missy’s grasp and rose. “I thank those of you who have given your support, allowing me to complete this term with the children. I realize some of my ideas are unusual. However, I can assure you I’ve never had anything but the students’ best interests at heart. Everything I’ve done has been out of genuine affection for the children of Walnut Hill.”

A few people nodded in response. Others looked away, apparently embarrassed.

Over the previous week, she’d prepared a little speech to be given regardless of how the town voted. Although peace had flooded her when she’d prayed about it, now that the time had arrived to form the words, her tongue turned clumsy. She offered a silent request for God’s strength, and then continued.

“As much as I love the children, I must inform you of my decision to leave at the end of this term. In order to be an effective teacher, I must feel at ease, and I cannot feel at ease knowing there are several people who oppose my methods. Additionally, God has placed a calling on my heart unrelated to teaching.” Excitement stirred through Edythe’s middle as she considered using her abilities not in a classroom, but in ways that could still impact generations. As much as she would miss her students, she knew she’d made the right choice.

Her gaze bounced past Luthenia’s teary-eyed face to the dismayed children and somber parents. She spotted Joel Townsend sitting between Johnny and Robert, and her heart fluttered in response to the steady, unwavering gaze he aimed in her direction. For a few seconds she froze, unable to turn away from his tender blue eyes. The desire to dash across the church sanctuary and leap into Joel’s strong arms washed over her.

Quickly, she faced Mr. Libolt before the longing overcame good sense. “I thank you for allowing me to spend these past months with your children. I . . . I will treasure the memories of my time in Walnut Hill.” She sat so the townspeople – especially Joel – wouldn’t witness her tears.

An uncomfortable silence fell, lasting for several seconds. Then Mr. Libolt cleared his throat. “That ends our meetin’. The council members’ll start searchin’ for a new teacher soon.”

His impassive tone juxtaposed sharply the myriad emotions tumbling through Edythe’s heart. Benches creaked as people stood. Feet shuffled against scarred floorboards, mumbled voices diminishing as folks left the building. Edythe remained on her bench until everyone had gone, unwilling to face them. When all was quiet, she finally rose and turned to leave. Her gaze fell upon the bench where she’d seen Joel and his boys. The empty bench became representative of the aching place in the center of her chest. How she would miss those towheaded boys and their bighearted uncle.

“What I’m wantin’ to know,” Luthenia groused as she scooped a second helping of lima beans and stewed tomatoes onto her plate, “is why you didn’t tell me you’d decided not to teach no more. Shock nearly made my ol’ heart forget to keep beatin’. It’s not good for a woman my age to get a scare like that.”

Edythe covered her mouth with her napkin to hide her smile. She’d miss Luthenia’s crusty ways when she and Missy left. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you and Missy.”

Missy looked up from her full plate. She hadn’t eaten a bite. “You really mean to go, then?” She sounded more sad than resentful.

“I don’t intend to
teach
next year, Missy. As for where we’ll live . . .” Edythe sighed. “I’m still praying about that. I’ll need a job of some sort – but something not as time-consuming as teaching. I intend to dedicate considerable time to the women’s suffrage movement.”

Luthenia gawked at Edythe.

Edythe sent a serious look across the table. “The more I think about the inequities – and the effects the current laws will have on Missy and other girls like her – the more I realize change must come. As you told me, God doesn’t intend husbands to run roughshod over their wives. If men and women should share responsibilities in the home, shouldn’t they also share responsibilities in government?”

Luthenia’s brow puckered. “Guess I haven’t given it much thought.”

“I’ve thought of little else since the children and I began our study on government. I’ve become convinced, listening to Missy, Martha, and the other girls, that women have much to offer – their voices should be heard.” Edythe linked her hands and rested them on the table’s edge. “I don’t want to oppress men or demand to be given rights beyond what’s held by them, but neither do I want men to oppress women. As God’s creations, we should be held in equal esteem.”

Luthenia shook her head, her eyes wide with wonder. “You
have
been thinkin’.”

Edythe’s thoughts slipped backward in time to the joyful days on her family’s farm. “It’s a battle that must be won, and it will take time and dedication. I have the desire – now I simply need the means to see it through.” She looked at her sister, who pushed a lima bean back and forth on her plate with her finger. “Are you angry with me?”

Missy sighed. “No. Me an’ the other girls, we want to be able to vote an’ own property an’ all those things men can do when we grow up.” She met Edythe’s gaze. Although sadness lingered in her eyes, she smiled. “I’m proud of you, Edie, for lookin’ out for other people. It’s what you do best.”

Luthenia clanked her fork onto the table. “Why, Edythe, it
is
what you do best! An’ doesn’t it just seem as though God’s been preparin’ you for this with the responsibility He gave you way back when?” She reached across the table and took Edythe’s hand. “You got a givin’ heart, an able spirit, a smart mind . . . an’ you can string words together in a way that inspires people.” Missy nodded emphatically, and Luthenia smiled. “He picked the perfect person to do battle when He picked you.”

Edythe laughed, her joy spilling over at the open support offered by her sister and her dear friend. “I’m so glad you understand.” She grimaced, raising one shoulder in a sheepish shrug. “I don’t imagine the good men of Walnut Hill will approve, but I must follow my heart.”

When word spread of her intention to become a suffragist, she’d surely face another round of censure from the community. And she would bear it. Only one man’s opinion really mattered, and she’d trust God to give her the strength to face his criticism, should it come.

“There.” Joel stepped back and admired the sturdy little walnut tree with its branches pointing toward the sky. His gaze roved the schoolyard, taking in the other two trees. Small and spindly now, but in time their branches would provide shade for the students at play.

He and the boys had spent all of Sunday afternoon digging up new trees and then planting them in the ready holes on the school grounds. Joel had worried Robert would balk at returning to the river, but the boy had gone willingly, eager to fetch the trees. He’d stood well back from the water’s edge and occasionally looked over his shoulder, searching for William, but he hadn’t cowered in fear. Joel hoped having survived such a scary event might help Robert face his other fears – such as storms.

Now Robert scampered from tree to tree, touching the trunks or ducking low to peer at the sky through the scrawny branches, happy and carefree. Joel curled his hand around Johnny’s neck and pulled the boy snug against his side. “So what’cha think? Will Miss Amsel be pleased?”

Johnny grinned, slinging his arm around Joel’s waist. “Uh-huh!”

“Now remember – let’s keep it secret that we put those trees in.” Joel couldn’t be certain why he didn’t want the schoolmarm to know he planted the trees, but he sensed it needed to remain a secret.

“I won’t tell. But Robert might. He can’t keep a secret.” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly, not at all critical of his brother. “The very day you told us Miz Jenkins was gonna be our new ma, he came right to school an’ told Miss Amsel.”

Joel needed to let the boys know they wouldn’t be getting a new ma, after all. He hoped they wouldn’t be too confused.

Johnny’s brow puckered. “Is she really leavin’, Uncle Joel?”

For a moment, Joel thought the boy referred to Maribelle. Then he realized Johnny meant Miss Amsel. His heart twinged. “So she said.”

“I don’t want her to go. I like her.”

“I know, boy.” On the riverbank last week, looking into Edythe’s face – peaceful despite the frightening time she’d spent searching for Robert – he’d wanted to gather her into his arms and never let go. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want a ready-made family.

At least he’d had a chance to gift her in a small way before she left. With his arm around Johnny, he held his free hand to Robert. “C’mon. It’s suppertime, an’ then you two need a bath – you’re as dirty as if we’d planted you in the ground.”

“Awww, Uncle Joel!”

Joel laughed and swung them into the back of the wagon. As he drove out of the schoolyard, he looked once more at the trees. He wished he could be at the school tomorrow morning to see the look on Miss Amsel’s face. But then again, maybe it was best he couldn’t.

Edythe spotted the little trees when she was still a quarter-mile down the road Monday morning. Missy must have noticed them at the same time, because she pointed. Edythe nodded. “Come on – let’s hurry.”

Together the sisters jogged the remaining distance and stopped, panting, beside the tree closest to the road. Edythe touched the wilting leaves while Missy circled the tree, examining it from top to bottom.

“This isn’t one we picked out.” Missy held her hand over her head, measuring the tree’s height. “The ones the boys dug were barely to my shoulder, but these are as tall as you.”

Who could have planted the trees? An entire week had passed since the interrupted picnic at the river. She’d cautioned the children to stay away from the holes Terrill Sterbinz had dug, and last Friday when Terrill had taken her to Lincoln Valley for dinner, she’d asked him to stop by and fill them in. After the ordeal with Robert, she had no desire to take the children back to the river for more trees. Terrill had agreed, but he’d asked if she could wait a few more days, since he’d planned a Saturday trip to Aurora to look at a horse, and of course Sunday was a day of rest. Edythe had consented to wait.

But the holes were filled . . . with trees! They had to have been planted on Sunday – she’d worked at the school on Saturday and hadn’t seen anyone. Could Terrill have decided to forego his day of rest and plant these trees for her?