His Prairie Sweetheart
Elias gathered several of the bags and brought them to the steps. He staggered, just to get his point across to Tyler. Who needed all this stuff?
“Ah, good. You can load Miss Cox’s things in the buckboard.” Tyler slanted Elias a “behave yourself” older-brother glance, forbidding him any comment on the exotic import standing in the shade of the porch. “I will check in with you as often as I am able, Miss Cox, but Elias will make himself available to assist you in any way he can, should the need arise.”
“Sheriff Parker.” She held out her gloved hand, and Elias let her bags thump to the porch before taking her fingers for a brief clasp. “I’ll try not to be too much trouble, I’m sure.”
Ahm shu-wah.
Elias swallowed, steeling himself not to be swayed from his position by nice manners. He’d been down that road, much to his regret, and he had no desire to repeat his folly.
She turned to Tyler. “Mr. Parker, is this all there is of the town?” She looked both directions along Main Street. Actually, it was the only street. Twenty or so buildings, none of them grand, lined the thoroughfare.
Tyler cleared his throat. “Um, yes, for the time being. But we’re always growing. Snowflake is mostly a farming community, but we’re hoping to draw more commerce to town. Having a good quality school will go a long way in enticing family-owned businesses to our little settlement.”
“I see.” Her faintly bewildered tone said she didn’t see at all. She’d probably never lived anywhere with fewer than a thousand people within shouting distance.
“The buckboard’s over here.” Tyler ushered her up the street. “We’ll have you at your lodgings soon.”
Together, they walked toward the buckboard, and Elias, left with the baggage, forced himself not to stare at the graceful sway of her walk and the way her dress trailed and draped in layers and ruffles. He’d never seen a getup quite like that. She looked as if she should be at some garden club or tea party...not that he had any notion what women wore to tea parties, but her outfit had to be more suited to a social engagement than to traveling across the prairie.
“And which building is the school?” She had to look up at his brother, who wasn’t all that tall. Elias had a feeling he’d dwarf her, since he was half a head taller than Tyler.
“Oh, the school is north of town a ways. They built it there because that’s where the greatest concentration of children is. We’re almost up to a dozen students now.” Tyler smiled and held out his hand to help her into the buckboard. “I do apologize that I am unable to make the rest of the trip with you. I’m heading east on the stage for some meetings in the capitol. I’ll return as soon as I can, but you’ll be in good hands with my brother.”
Elias stowed bags and boxes on the backseat and floorboards. Miss Cox sat in the front seat like a little plaster statue, eyes forward, hands throttling her parasol handle, rigid as a new fence. He was just about to climb aboard when a shout shattered the sultry afternoon air.
“Sheriff, don’t forget this one.” Keenan stomped over, grappling with the odd-shaped box he’d removed from inside the stage.
“Oh, my.” Miss Cox fluttered like a bird. “I can’t believe I forgot. I must be more tired than I thought.”
Elias scratched his head. Where was he supposed to fit that monstrosity? If he’d have known she was bringing enough stuff to supply an army, he’d have brought his pa’s farm wagon.
“Please, be careful. That’s fragile.”
He sighed and wedged the bulky parcel in so it wouldn’t jostle, then climbed aboard and gathered the reins. Looking over at the jailhouse porch, he whistled. Cap shot up and bounded across the street. Elias scooted over and patted the seat between himself and Miss Cox.
Captain needed no second command. He leaped aboard and planted his furry rump on the hard bench. His tongue lolled and dripped dog spit, and he gave Miss Cox a friendly sniff.
She recoiled, eyes wide. “Get back!” She shrank further, looking ready to bolt.
“Whoa, easy, ma’am. He won’t hurt you.” Elias cuffed Captain on the shoulder. “He’s gentle. You act like you’ve never been around a dog before.”
Swallowing, she righted her hat and sat more upright, pressing against the far armrest so hard he thought it might break. “I haven’t, especially not one so...big.”
Captain grinned, showing a lot of teeth, his heavy tail pounding Elias’s leg.
“Are you sure he won’t bite?” Her voice trembled, and a little arrow of guilt pierced Elias. Not enough to overcome his scorn at such irrational fear, of course.
“Unless you’re a bank robber, or a horse thief, or a stubborn sheep, he’ll keep his fangs to himself. Cap’s a first-rate sheepherder and police dog, aren’t you, boy?” The big collie tried to lick Elias’s face, and he laughed, shoving him back.
Tyler frowned, fussing with his tie as he stood by the buckboard. “Perhaps you should leave him here.”
“Nope. I told Pa I’d drop him off at the farm after I ran your errand for you.”
“But Miss Cox—”
“Miss Cox will be fine. She’ll have to get used to a lot worse than sharing a seat with a friendly dog if she’s going to survive out here.”
He chirruped to the sorrel mare, and the buckboard lurched, leaving Tyler behind. They soon reached the outskirts of town and headed north.
Miss Cox leaned forward to talk around Captain, who had his snoot in the air, sucking in the breeze created by their forward motion. “Where are we going? I thought we were heading to my lodgings.”
Elias frowned. Did she think he was taking her on a sightseeing tour of the county first? “This is the quickest way to the Halvorsons’.”
“The Halvorsons’?” Her parasol caught the breeze and jerked upward. She fought it down. “Is it always so windy here?”
“This isn’t windy.” She thought this was windy? “The Halvorsons are the folks you’re boarding with. Didn’t Tyler tell you?”
The dog leaned against her, and she pushed him away. “Boarding with a family? No, he didn’t mention that. I thought I’d have a room at a boardinghouse or hotel.”
“Got no boardinghouse nor hotel. Is that gonna be a problem? The stage hasn’t left yet if you want to go back.” He tried not to sound too hopeful.
Miss Cox pressed her lips together and shook her head. Even under the shade of her umbrella, her hair glowed in swoops and curls, all pinned up under a hat that had nothing to do with deflecting the elements. What she needed was a decent sunbonnet or wide-brimmed straw.
“How much farther is it?” She sounded tired, and Elias’s conscience bit him again. After all, she’d come a long way. It wasn’t her fault that she was unsuitable.
Or that she stirred up memories of Britta.
“Schoolhouse is two miles out of town on the north road. The Halvorson place is the closest farm to the school.”
“And how far apart are the house and the school?”
He shrugged. “If you take the road, it’s about a mile and a quarter around, but if you cut across the fields, it’s about half a mile, I guess.”
“A mile and a quarter. I suppose by buggy that won’t be too bad.”
Elias laughed. “Doubt anybody will fetch you in a buggy. Or a wagon, either. You’ll walk, same as the Halvorson kids. The students who live farther than a couple of miles will ride ponies. There’s a livestock shed and corral at the school.” He slapped the lines again, urging the mare into a faster trot. “There’s the schoolhouse. School starts on Monday, but I guess you know that.”
The clapboard building shone white in the sunshine, sporting a fresh coat of paint. Elias had been part of the work crew that had seen to the new paint job early last spring before planting time. The money for the new school building—a vast improvement on the old sod-and-log structure they’d had before—had come from a bequest, and Tyler had hoped it would be an enticement in hiring. So far, it had sat empty far more than it had been in use.
Just short of the school, Elias turned at the crossroads to head west. “The Halvorson place is over there. We’ll be there soon.”
“Could we stop at the school first? I’d like to see inside.”
She didn’t look particularly eager, but maybe she was just forestalling having to meet more strangers.
“Sure, if you want. Tyler gave me the key to give to you.” He turned the mare and headed toward the schoolhouse, wishing it was Tyler showing her around. It was his brother’s job, after all.
From the corner of his eye, he studied her again, frilly dress, lacy gloves, fancy shoes, remote touch-me-not expression. He’d give this “ice princess” a week before she hightailed it back to where she came from.
Chapter Two
The beastly dog leaned on Savannah again, and she gently elbowed him upright. Her dress would be covered in dog hair soon. His hot, moist breath puffed against her cheek, and his tongue lolled, dripping saliva.
But his brown eyes were friendly. Friendlier than his master’s. From the moment she’d stepped off the stage, she could feel the sheriff’s disapproval—which puzzled her. He didn’t even know her. Why should he take such an instant dislike?
The buckboard jerked to a halt in front of the tiny white building, and the sheriff jumped down, rocking the conveyance, forcing her to clutch the seat.
Thankfully, the dog followed him instead of breathing his doggy breath in her face anymore. “Thank you for stopping, Mr. Parker.”
“Call me Elias.”
Mr. Parker—Elias—sauntered around the horse to help her down. Savannah could feel him sizing her up...and to judge by the skeptical tilt to his brows, finding her wanting. She knew she wasn’t at her sparkling best, travel-worn and tossed into what felt like a foreign land. Her self-confidence had sunk to an all-time low ebb with Girard’s defection, and the sheriff was doing nothing to bolster it. She felt strange and a bit weepy, which wasn’t like her at all before her broken engagement, but now seemed to be her constant state.
Elias, on the other hand, exuded confidence. Tall, muscular and in familiar surroundings. Dark hair, gray eyes and, when he bothered to smile, deep creases in his cheeks. He’d probably never suffered a setback in his entire life.
“The school’s been closed up since last Christmas, when the teacher left town.” Elias tromped up the steps and opened the door. The hinges let out a terrific squeal. “It’s going to need a good cleaning before Monday.”
Savannah furled her parasol and stepped past him into the building’s foyer. A beadboard wall greeted her, with doorways on either side that led into the classroom. A crock stood in the corner, and several shelves with hooks ran along the walls. To the right of the entry door hung a rope, held to the wall by large metal loops. It ran up through a hole in the ceiling.
“School bell. Don’t ring it now, or folks will come running, thinking there’s an emergency.” Elias tipped his hat back on his head and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Schoolroom’s through there.” He indicated the doorway with his chin.
Great blocks of light fell through the western windows onto the hardwood floor. Three rows of desks took up most of the space. Not patent metal and wood desks but rough-hewn benches and long, slant-top desks with a single shelf beneath, clearly locally made.
On a slight platform sat a teacher’s desk and chalkboard, and behind the last row of desks, a small iron stove. Portraits of Presidents Washington and Lincoln graced the spaces between the windows, and an American flag hung proudly in the corner.
The air smelled stale, and dust covered everything and danced in the air. Savannah’s trailing skirt left a track as she made her way to the front of the room. Aware of Elias watching her, she sought for something intelligent to say. Nothing came to mind. She was too fuzzy-headed with fatigue.
The dog trotted up the aisle as if he owned the place, his nails clicking on the floor. He sniffed around the desks and sneezed. Savannah didn’t know much about dogs, but she did know they should stay outside. She kept a wary eye on him as she placed her hand on the back of the teacher’s chair. From here she was supposed to rule this little kingdom.
The crisis of confidence that she’d carried around since Girard had jilted her welled up and threatened to paralyze her. What had she been thinking to come so far from home?
“You might want to check out the list of rules for teachers. They’re posted by the blackboard.” Elias said it casually, but she sensed a challenge in his tone. Was she imagining things, or was she overlaying her insecurities onto him?
Scanning the paper tacked to the wall, she wilted inside. Clean the lamps, haul water, haul coal, scrub the floors and windows once a week, check the privies, clean the livestock shed, be circumspect in her behavior, attend church regularly, start the fire by seven each morning in cold weather so the room will be warm by eight. Savannah blinked. She’d never scrubbed a floor in her life, much less mucked out a stable or hauled coal.
This whole thing was a mistake. What had she been thinking? She wasn’t suited for any of this. The sinking feeling she’d been fighting for days grew in her middle. Fiercely, she battled it down. Somehow, some way she needed to regain her belief in herself. If she couldn’t do that, what future did she have anywhere?
“Tyler wanted me to give you this.” Elias spoke from just behind her, startling her. She whirled as he pulled a paper out of his back pocket. He walked to the desk, leaned over and blew, sending dust puffing into the air, then spread the sheet on the blotter. She followed him, trying to still her beating heart.
Her contract.
“You can fill it out now if you want.” He slid an inkwell and pen toward her. “Or you can read it over, think about it and weigh up if you really want to sign it. The stage will be back on Tuesday if you decide to leave.”
She frowned. “Why do you seem so eager for me to run away?” The man didn’t even know her. She might be a bit daunted, but he didn’t have to assume she was a failure before she even got started.
He parked his hip on the corner of the desk. “Maybe because I’ve been down this road before. The two teachers before you skedaddled the minute things got tough. The first one was a man—a city boy, I’ll grant you, but even he wasn’t tough enough to stick it out through one of our winters. The other was a girl.” Elias paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “She only stayed for a couple of months, and when she left, she didn’t even resign or say goodbye. Just hopped on the stage one morning and took off.” With a shrug, he paced a few steps down the aisle and then turned to look at Savannah once more. “She caused a lot of hurt...among the students and their families, I mean.
“And here you come, fresh from the South, a slip of a girl with a fancy paper that says she’s a teacher, but precious little else to recommend her for this job.” He took off his hat and swept his fingers through his hair. “I hate to see the parents and kids get all excited, only to have you walk away in a week or a month because life out here is harsher than you thought. Not to mention that my brother has a lot riding on you. Better you call it quits now than disappoint everyone.”
“What makes you think I will disappoint everyone?” She spoke through her tiredness and the tightness in her throat. “I graduated first in my class from normal school, and though I’ve never lived in Minnesota, I assume other women do? If they can, so can I.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the strong column of his throat rising from his open-necked shirt. “Miss Cox, I doubt you share anything other than gender with the women around here. They’re hardy Norwegian stock, hard workers, practical and used to getting by without much luxury. From the way you dress and the amount of baggage you brought, I surmise you’ve never been within a stone’s throw of milking a cow or plucking a chicken or hoeing a garden.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not being hired to do any of those things.” She snatched the pen, dipped it in the inkwell and signed her name before her courage could wilt entirely under his criticism. “I will teach school and follow the rules, and if I need help, I’m sure I can find someone who won’t be as grudging and skeptical as you are.” She snapped the pen down on the desk, snatched up her parasol and marched toward the door.
She’d show him.
Savannah wanted to slam the schoolhouse door, but her aunt’s training in the fine art of being a lady came to her rescue in time. She climbed aboard the buckboard, snapped open her parasol against the ruthless sun and searched her reticule for her fan. Flicking it open, she cooled her hot cheeks.
He strolled down the steps, his shaggy canine on his heels, and took his seat with a long-suffering sigh, as if humoring a toddler in a tantrum.
Which made Savannah want to bite a nail in half. Sheriff Elias Parker would know the meaning of the word determination before this school year ended.
“Do all your fans and parasols match your dresses? Is that what’s in all these bags and boxes?”
That’s what he wanted to talk about? “Some of them match. I can’t see why it’s a concern of yours.” She regretted her sharp tone at once, but then again, he’d made no bones about how he felt about her qualifications. He seemed to think he could sum her up just by looking at her, so why couldn’t she do the same?
He fell silent.
When they finally approached a cluster of small buildings, Savannah found herself praying Elias would drive right by. A tiny abode, the size of the summer kitchen of Savannah’s house in Raleigh, sat in a dusty yard, and though it had a peaked, wooden roof and log walls, part of it appeared to be built right into a small hillside. Surely this wasn’t one of those horrid sod houses or dugouts of which she’d heard? Chickens pecked along a fence, and a row of laundry hung out on a line for all the world to see.
The sun bounced off the whitewashed cabin, nearly blinding her. At least the paint made it look clean and tidy. But it was so small. How many people lived here?
Too close for Savannah’s comfort, a pair of pigs rooted in a sty next to a sturdy-looking barn. The barnyard smells rising up in the summer sunshine had her flapping her fan. How did anyone stand it, especially in this heat? Not a tree broke the horizon for as far as she could see, though fields of corn and wheat rustled in the breeze. What she wouldn’t give for some decent shade and a glass of iced lemonade.
A woman emerged from the house, wiping her hands on her apron. She had her blond braids wrapped around her head like a halo, and her smile was sweet.
But her calico dress was faded and drooping, and she wore...wooden clogs on her feet. Savannah glanced at her traveling costume, the fine sateen cloth, the ivory lace and her kid gloves. She’d thought it serviceable enough when she donned it at the hotel that morning, but now she understood what Elias had meant about her parasol and fan matching her dress.
“God kveld, Elias. Er at den nye læreren?” The woman greeted Elias and bobbed her head, smiling at Savannah.
“Ja, dette er hun.” Elias hefted a couple of her bags from the back. “Hennes navn er Miss Cox.”
Two children, both fair and sun-browned, tumbled out of the house. They skidded to a stop when they spied Savannah. Surely they would be her students, as they were both school-aged. Perhaps ten and twelve? The girl found her voice first, firing a rapid question at Elias. He replied, and Savannah understood not a single word.
“Pardon me.”
Elias turned, and she motioned him over. Setting her bags in the dirt, he went to her side. “What?”
Lowering her head and her voice, she whispered, “It’s rude to speak in another language and leave someone out of the conversation. Why aren’t you using English?”
From this close, she could see the blue flecks in his gray eyes and the beginnings of a beard shadowing his slim cheeks. When he leaned in, she smelled sunshine and cotton. “We’re speaking Norwegian because the Halvorsons don’t speak English.”
A strange trickling feeling started in her chest—probably what was left of her courage draining out. “Are you jesting?”
“Nope.”
“I’m to board with a family that speaks no English.”
“They’re the closest family to the schoolhouse.” His shrug made her want to scream. She’d traveled across the country, leaving everything she knew, and he was going to dump her with a family that didn’t even speak English?
Then the little girl edged over, eyes sparkling, freckles spattering her nose. She reached up gently, as if sensing Savannah’s fear, and took her hand. “Du er pen. Mitt navn er Rut. Du vil dele rommet mitt.”
Savannah looked to Elias.
“She says she thinks you’re pretty, that her name is Rut, and that you will be sharing her room.” He continued to unload the bags. “This fellow is Lars, Rut’s brother, and this is their mother, Agneta Halvorson.”
Savannah remembered her manners, slipped from the buckboard and went to Mrs. Halvorson. “I’m pleased to meet you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” She took the older woman’s work-worn hand in hers.
Elias translated for her, and Agneta beamed, motioning for them to come inside. As Savannah entered the small house, the smell of something rich and meaty greeted her. Her stomach gurgled, and she put her palm to her middle, her cheeks heating. But Agneta just laughed, a delightful sound like bells. She spoke to Elias, pointing to a steep stair in the corner. Lars and Elias staggered up with Savannah’s baggage, and Rut’s eyes widened as they went out for another trip.
Agneta put her hand on Savannah’s shoulder and directed her to sit at the table. She did as she was bidden, surveying the room. The walls had been painted pale blue on the upper half and a rusty red-brown on the lower. Small-paned windows let in a little light, but the room was dim. A large fireplace and hearth of a construction she’d never seen before took up one corner, and a long table with benches sat before it. Two small cabinets hung from the walls, painted with flowers and scrolls, and a large sideboard with fine carvings took up one wall. In the corner, with a sheet curtain hanging around it to separate it from the rest of the room, sat a bed covered in a pretty quilt.
Rut sat across from Savannah and propped her chin on her palm, staring.
Through it all, Agneta chattered away as if Savannah could understand every word. Savannah tugged off her fingerless lace gloves, folded them with her fan and tucked them into her handbag. Her parasol leaned against her leg, and she caught Rut eyeing it. Mother and daughter exchanged a few words and Rut nodded. She popped up and went to Savannah, holding out her hand, then pointing to Savannah’s hat, bag and parasol.
“Oh, you want to take them?” Relieved at understanding at least one thing, Savannah reached up and removed her hatpin, easing her fascinator-style hat from her hair. “I must look a mess, what with traveling and the ride from town.” She smoothed her hair up from the base of her neck, wishing she was at home so she could sink into the claw-footed tub and wash away the dirt and tiredness.
Elias and Lars clattered down the steps, and Lars went outside right away, leaving the door open. He dropped to his knees and Captain bounded up, licking his face and tumbling him backward into the dirt. From the sound of his laughter, the boy didn’t mind.
“There’s just the one case left. But there’s no more room upstairs.” Elias put his hands on his hips. “What’s in that thing, anyway? Oh, wait, I forgot. It’s none of my business.” He shrugged. “I’ll bring it in, but it will have to stay down here.”
When he’d brought the case in, he set it near the bottom of the stairs. “I have to be going. I promised my pa I’d stop by his place. He owns the next farm to the north of here, about a mile or so.”
Strange that she had to force herself not to grab hold of his arm and beg him not to leave her. Savannah barely knew him, and they hadn’t exactly been cordial to one another. And yet she wanted him to stay.