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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: Opal
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While he chewed on that, she returned to her letter.

I do hope that one of these days you will see your way clear to sending Opal back to visit us. This summer would be especially wonderful because Jason is helping his father in the business, and the rest of us miss him. I know it is good preparation for his future, but that doesn’t make me any more cheerful about the whole thing.

I hear the schoolchildren at the door, so I must bid you good-bye for now. Please don’t wait so long to write again, although I know you must be far busier than I can imagine.

Love from your New York friends,
Lydia Brandon

If Opal wanted to go east, Ruby would use some of her savings from the hotel to buy the ticket. Perhaps Mrs. Brandon could get her to wear more suitable clothing.

Opal would need an entirely new wardrobe to travel back there. No britches or split skirts, no leather vest or jacket. And no pistol or gun of any kind.

‘‘Mrs. Brandon, dear lady and friend, you have no idea what you are asking.’’ Ruby chuckled.

Early that afternoon a lone rider rode the trail up to the house. When Ruby went to the door in answer to Ghost’s announcement of company, she looked in amazement. Mr. Finch, dressed in a high collar and cravat, gray suit coat and vest, sat the horse with a distinct look of discomfort.

‘‘Mr. Finch, please dismount and come in.’’

‘‘Ah, good day, Mrs. Harrison. Where might I tie my horse?’’

‘‘Oh, I’m sorry. Take him over to the corral and tie him to the wood fence by the barn. I’ll heat the coffee.’’

‘‘Thank you, ma’am.’’ He pulled on the right rein, clucking with his tongue. The horse just stood there, ears flicking back and forth like a semaphore.

Ruby caught her upper lip with her lower teeth. ‘‘Ah, horses out here are trained to neck-rein, Mr. Finch.’’

He swallowed his frown. ‘‘Neck-rein?’’

‘‘Yes. You hold the reins in your right hand and lay the left rein across the horse’s shoulders.’’
Opal, where are you when I need
you?
‘‘Then you nudge him in the ribs with your heels.’’

She could tell he was trying, but the horse had yet to move. ‘‘You need to rein and nudge at the same time.’’

If his red face was any indication, he had not only gotten too much sun, but his patience had about reached its limit too. Should she go down the steps of the porch and show him what she meant? Or would that destroy his pride forever? Men could be so silly that way.

‘‘I-I’ll go get the coffee ready.’’ She turned, scooped Per up, and kept the door from banging behind her in case that spooked the horse. Or the man.

That thought almost made her giggle. No wonder Opal had a hard time respecting her teacher. The stories she brought home had given them many a good laugh.

But now he was at her door, and good manners were imperative. Had he come on a social call or what?

It was most likely not a social call since she’d been seeing him regularly in church, which met in the school building ever since its completion.

‘‘Uff da.’’

‘‘Da?’’ Per looked toward the door.

‘‘Da will be home later. He’s out with the cows.’’

She set a plate of cookies on the table as she made her way to answer the knock at the door. ‘‘Come in. Come in.’’

Mr. Finch removed his hat and held it with both hands against his chest as he stepped through the door. ‘‘Thank you. It sure smells good in here.’’

‘‘That’s the bread I took out of the oven a bit ago. Please sit down. Do you take cream and sugar with your coffee?’’

‘‘Just cream, thank you.’’ He sat and rested his hat on the table beside him. ‘‘I wish this were just a social call.’’

Ruby placed the cups in saucers on the table and pushed the cream toward him.
Why am I not surprised?

‘‘What has Opal been doing now?’’

‘‘She has a very good mind, you know.’’

‘‘Yes, and had the blessing of good schooling, both before we came west and then with Mrs. Hegland.’’

‘‘But she doesn’t really want to use it.’’

‘‘Really?’’ Ruby tipped her head slightly, as if she’d not heard right. This was not what she expected.

‘‘She spends much of her time daydreaming and not paying attention in class. The younger children look up to her, and I wish she would set a good example.’’

‘‘Have you talked to her about this? Is she disruptive in class?’’

‘‘No and no. But I have called it to her attention when I observed her woolgathering.’’

‘‘Does she have plenty to keep her busy and to challenge her? Are her grades suffering?’’

He stiffened slightly. ‘‘I am doing the best that I am able, Mrs. Harrison.’’

‘‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound critical. I will speak to her about this.’’

‘‘I would appreciate that.’’

‘‘I have a question though. If she finishes her work ahead of the others, what would you like her to do with her spare time?’’

‘‘She can help with the younger children. I’m sure you know how good she is with them.’’

Better than you, I wonder?
‘‘Or?’’

‘‘She can read a book. As you know, we have quite a collection now.’’

‘‘Of which she has read most. Unless you’ve gotten new ones in recently.’’

‘‘She has?’’

The man obviously had no idea how quickly Opal read. ‘‘More coffee?’’

‘‘Please.’’ He stared at the red-and-white-checked tablecloth, looking up when Ruby filled his cup. ‘‘Do you think she will return to school in the fall?’’

‘‘I assume so. We have not discussed a different plan.’’

‘‘I . . . ah . . . I just thought perhaps a finishing school might be a good idea. Not that I presume to tell you what to do, but since she is so obviously disinterested . . .’’

Isn’t that part of your job? To make learning so interesting that you
hold your pupils’ attention? I never saw the daydreamer side of Opal. She’s
always been a do-it kind of girl. Now, if there had been a snake in your
desk, that would not surprise me
. Ruby looked up to realize she’d been lost in her thoughts. Would he think sister like sister?

‘‘Thirty students of all ages in one room gives little time for individual attention.’’

‘‘That is true. Perhaps it is time to petition the school board for another teacher?’’

‘‘I wrote to them, but they don’t believe the school here will grow to accommodate another teacher.’’

Ruby shook her head. They surely had not spoken with the Marquis de Mores. Granted, cows outnumbered everything except ants and rabbits out here, but new families were coming in, much to the resentment of the ranchers.

‘‘Well, since I plan on visiting the Robertsons while I am out this far, I had better get back on that horse.’’ The look on his face left no doubt as to his feeling about his mode of transportation.

‘‘Would you like Opal to ride along and show you the way?’’ Now, what sort of devilment made her offer that suggestion? Ruby schooled her face in a polite smile.

‘‘N-no thank you. I have a map.’’

‘‘I see.’’ Ruby stood so he could. ‘‘Please greet Mrs. Robertson from me.’’

‘‘Oh, I will. Thank you for the coffee. You surely do have a beautiful child there.’’

Per looked up from the rusk he’d been chewing. He’d managed to smear his face from ear to ear. ‘‘Da?’’

Ruby refrained from pointing out that Per was a boy. It was hard to tell, since all small children wore a shift until age three or when they were potty trained.

‘‘Godspeed, Mr. Finch.’’

He stopped in the doorway. ‘‘And you’ll talk with Opal?’’

‘‘Yes, of course.’’

‘‘Thank you again.’’ He tipped his hat and headed down to the corral for his horse.

Ruby watched as he struggled to mount and then, once in the saddle, tried to turn the animal by pulling the left rein. He looked like some kind of puppet, arms straight out, swinging his legs rather than squeezing.

Ruby rolled her eyes. Thank heavens Opal was off with the hands, or she would have burst out laughing. It was all Ruby could do to hold her own laughter in. She knew Rand would enjoy her description once they were in their room, where Opal would not hear.

She lifted Per and propped him on her hip. ‘‘It’s not her fault, I’m sure, that she’s daydreaming. That man could put anyone to sleep.’’

CHAPTER NINE

‘‘But, Ruby, I was never rude.’’

‘‘I should hope not. But you weren’t doing what you were supposed to be doing—listening to your teacher.’’

‘‘I try.’’ Opal sighed and shook her head. ‘‘I try so hard, but he has a kind of singsong voice, and pretty soon my mind just takes off and all of a sudden he is saying, ‘Miss Torvald,’ like it’s a bad word, and then I come back and I don’t know what the question was, and . . . and I think he likes to . . . to . . .’’

‘‘Embarrass you?’’

‘‘Yes.’’
It makes him feel like a big shot or something, and then I get
disgusted. But I can’t tell Ruby all this, can I?

‘‘So to come right down to it, he’s boring.’’

Opal nodded. ‘‘And he likes to lecture.’’
Mostly just to hear himself
talk
.

‘‘What do the others do?’’

‘‘Virginia keeps a book up like she’s reading, and she is, but it’s not the history book that he sees.’’

‘‘Could you do the same?’’

‘‘I guess I’m going to have to.’’ Opal chewed on her bottom lip. ‘‘I wish Miss Hossfuss, er, Mrs. Hegland was still our teacher. Or you.’’

‘‘Well, they won’t allow women with children to teach, so that leaves Pearl out. Besides, she’s too busy.’’

‘‘Like you.’’

‘‘I don’t know where the time goes.’’

‘‘Ma?’’ came from the bedroom, where Per had been napping.

‘‘I’ll get him.’’ Opal fled the room. ‘‘Hey there, little guy, you ready to get up?’’

Per reached out for her, chattering his own little song, one that sounded the same whenever he saw her.

‘‘Wish I could understand you.’’ She untied the belly strap and picked him up. ‘‘I think you understand us much better than we do you.’’

Another run of sounds.

‘‘I know. Pretty soon you’ll be running and jabbering up a storm. You wet?’’

He shook his head, his latest accomplishment. When she nodded, he imitated that, then giggled, his red cheeks crinkling in a grin.

‘‘You want to go riding?’’

He shook his head, the widening smile showing off his two new bottom teeth, chattering at the same time. He pounded on her shoulders with his tiny fists, nearly jumping out of her arms.

‘‘Per wants to go riding.’’

‘‘Is that what he’s saying?’’ Ruby arched an eyebrow.

‘‘He can sure understand a lot more than he can say.’’

‘‘You better put a sweater on him.’’ Ruby handed her one off the back of the chair.

‘‘We won’t be gone long.’’ Opal swung him up on her shoulders and galloped him out the door. Whistling for Bay, she grabbed Per’s fists. He loved to tangle them in her hair and pull. ‘‘All right, let go. Ouch.’’ Now he pounded on the top of her head, making both of them laugh.

Once she’d saddled Bay again, she lifted Per to the saddle and swung up behind him almost in the same motion. Per’s crow made Bay’s ears twitch.

‘‘You sure do love to ride, little guy.’’ She squeezed Bay into a gentle jog, Per giggling all the while, then singing his own song.

They rode down to the river, scaring up a flock of ducks and setting the grazing cows to moving a few feet before dropping their heads to pull at the nearly knee-deep grass. Spring sometimes came late to the badlands, but all growing things tried to make up the lost time. When they returned to the house, Ruby came out to the porch.

‘‘You ready for a cookie?’’ She held up her arms, but Per shook his head and clutched the saddle horn.

‘‘Not even bribery will work.’’ Opal loosened his fingers and handed him to his mother, getting a wail and beseeching look in return.

‘‘Sorry. I’ve got work to do.’’ She turned Bay away and they loped to the corral, where she unsaddled Bay and let her loose. ‘‘Thanks, girl. That was perfect.’’

Whistling, she took a rope from the fence post and entered the corral. The filly she’d been working with waited at the far side of the enclosure.

‘‘Going to be stubborn today?’’

The sorrel’s ears flicked, but she continued to hug the far fence. Opal swung the loop gently and settled it over the horse’s head, reeling her in hand over hand. Once she had the lead rope snapped on the halter, Opal snubbed the filly to the post sunk in the middle of the corral and went for brushes, saddle blanket, bridle, and saddle, which she set horn down in the dust. Opal kept up a steady stream of conversation as she brushed the horse she’d named Firelight because of the way the sun reflected off her coat and light mane.

‘‘You try to act so tough, when you’re just an old softie. Now, try to tell me you don’t like this. Think how much fun we’ll have out riding the hills instead of working around in this dusty corral.’’

‘‘Hey, Opal,’’ Chaps called from the barn. ‘‘You goin’ out with her?’’

‘‘Hope so.’’

‘‘I could ride with you.’’

‘‘Give me a few minutes, and we’ll see.’’ Opal had ridden the filly out of the corral before, but not with another horse. Perhaps that would help calm her down.

Mounting took a couple of tries, but finally the horse stood quietly as Opal mounted and dismounted a few more times before walking around the corral.

‘‘It’s like you have to be convinced each day that I am indeed your boss. You know, that kind of slows things down. Wouldn’t you rather be free from here?’’ She glanced up to see Beans and Chaps, crossed arms resting on the top rail, watching the work session.

‘‘She’s sure come on quick.’’

‘‘No. She’s a bit stubborn.’’ Opal touched the horse’s side with her stirrups to signal a lope. ‘‘Not a gallop, mind you.’’ She kept the reins tight enough to get her point across.

When sweat darkened the red hide, she stopped the filly in front of the men.

‘‘You two look mighty good together,’’ Beans said as he stroked the filly’s nose. ‘‘She’s sure a pretty thing.’’

‘‘Rand ought to be able to sell her for a goodly amount if we can find the right buyer.’’

‘‘Be interesting to see what kind of cow horse she becomes.’’ Chaps tipped his hat back, the easier to look up at Opal. ‘‘Her mama is a good one.’’

BOOK: Opal
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