Lyn Cote (19 page)

Over Kurt’s shoulder, she glimpsed a familiar figure entering the clearing. Ellen wanted to pick up her skirts and run. “Evidently, I didn’t move far enough,” she said with an ironic twist.

“What?” Kurt turned.

Ellen’s brother was striding toward them.

Instant irritation swept away Ellen’s low mood. Did the whole family have to troop to her door?

Randolph strode toward them. “Ellen! Is Cissy with you?”

Ellen recognized that tone of voice. It was Randolph’s “I’m the big brother; I know best” tone. “Yes, Cissy arrived yesterday.”

“Where is she?”

“In my quarters.” She motioned toward the door behind her.

Randolph paused to kiss her forehead. He turned to Kurt and raised an eyebrow. “You’re that Dutchman who lives near Ophelia?”

“My name is Kurt Lang, Mr. Thurston,” Kurt replied formally. Neither man extended his hand in greeting.

Randolph looked back and forth between Ellen and Kurt, his silent questioning what Kurt was doing alone with his sister plain.

Ellen forced a smile. “Cissy’s inside. Please go in quietly. William is napping.”

Randolph lingered another few moments, eyeing Kurt, and then her brother marched to the door and went inside.

“
You
may have moved far enough from home,” she muttered to Kurt, “but I am still just a few days away by boat.” She sighed. “Thank you...” What could she say—
thank you for comforting me, for understanding...for holding me?

“You do not owe me any thanks,” Kurt said to her gently. Then he called to Johann, who started to run to him.

Ellen knew she should move away, but she couldn’t.

Johann reached them and held open the bulging cloth sack. “See all the kindling I picked up?”

She smiled and complimented him on his hard work.

After a pause, Johann looked back and forth between them, evidently sensing something.

Finally, Kurt smiled and said, “Good day, Miss Thurston.” He pulled at the brim of his hat, and he and Johann walked away.

Ellen waited till they had disappeared around a bend. She’d hoped he would turn for one last look her way, but he didn’t. She stood there, feeling again his strong arms around her, wishing she hadn’t been forced from his embrace.

“Ellen?” Cissy called from the doorway. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Ellen stifled her desire to make a run for it and turned back toward her door. “Yes, Cissy, I’m coming.”

Hoping to soothe everyone’s nerves, Ellen made a pot of coffee and set out cake that had been left for her while Randolph paced and Cissy sat gloomily on the side of the bed. William woke and Ellen changed his diaper and prepared him a bottle. Then she sat in the rocking chair with him.

A log crumbled on the hearth, bringing Ellen back to waiting for Randolph to come to the point. Perhaps she would now finally understand what had happened to Cissy.

Randolph poured himself a cup of coffee and cut a thick slice of the brown sugar cake. He sat down and ate hungrily. “The food on the boat was atrocious.”

“Did you come alone, Randolph?” Cissy asked.

Ellen sincerely hoped so.

“Yes. Alice is expecting and Holton couldn’t leave the bank. I told everyone that Ellen had invited us to visit before winter set in and the river froze.” Randolph looked directly at Cissy. “What were you thinking, running away like this? Do you want to plunge our family into scandal?”

Cissy stood with fury on her face. “Did you know that Holton made up to Ellen before I came home?”

“The whole of Galena knew, Cissy,” Randolph said, taking another bite of cake and washing it down with coffee. “No one was surprised that he changed his mind. You’re prettier than Ellen and younger.”

Ellen gasped.

“No offense, Ellen, but it’s the truth, so why deny it?” Randolph continued chewing in between words.

Ellen steamed in silence.

“Then why didn’t anybody tell me?” Cissy demanded.

“No one wanted to hurt your feelings,” Randolph said. “Why are you making such a fuss? After my last visit here, I insisted Alice stop fueling that bit of gossip. Now you’ve managed to stir everything up again.”

Ellen decided it was time to get to the gist of the matter and leave her part out of this. “Randolph, Cissy says Holton struck her. Are you aware of that?”

Randolph’s cup hung in midair. “What? You can’t be serious. No man of consideration hits his wife.”

“Cissy’s eye was still faintly bruised when she arrived,” Ellen said.

“Is this true, Cissy?” Randolph demanded, his jaw jutting forward.

Cissy burst into tears.

“The truth, Cissy,” Randolph insisted.

It wasn’t until Randolph addressed their sister so sternly that it occurred to Ellen that Cissy might be lying. She began to feel angry before her sister even answered.

“Oh, very well. Holton and I were arguing. I tried to push past him. He stopped me and I stumbled and bumped my head against the molding.”

So Holton hadn’t struck Cissy. It had been just an accident.

“Cissy, how could you—” Then she stopped before her anger got the better of her. “Why would you mislead me about something as serious as that?”

“Cissy, you
married
Holton,” Randolph said. “He isn’t perfect. No one is,” Randolph admitted. “If Holton ever does intentionally harm you, you are to come to me immediately and I will deal with him. But I fail to see why you’ve made a big fuss and started people talking again for nothing.”

“It wasn’t nice to find out from Alice that the gossip about Holton and Ellen was true,” Cissy said resentfully.

“That’s why you’re acting this way?” Ellen asked.

“Alice told you that, did she?” Randolph looked displeased. “We’ll deal with that when we return home.”

Ellen gazed down at her child, wishing her siblings could return home immediately. Her life was here now, not with them. She wished them well but she did not care about gossip in Galena. She busied herself burping William.

At that moment, Randolph turned to Ellen. “As for you, Ellen, I think you’re getting too thick with that Dutchman.” Before Ellen could reply, he went on, “Cissy, I will accompany you home tomorrow. Another boat is expected to dock after breakfast. River traffic is humming before the Mississippi freezes. I will go to the General Store now. They offered to put me up again for the night.” He kissed them both on the forehead. “I’ll see you in town no later than eight o’clock in the morning.” With that, he left.

Ellen went to the door and latched it firmly. She turned and faced her sister. “Celeste—I think it’s time you started using your full given name—you are a married woman and yes, Holton squired me around town before you came home. But he chose you over me.” Ellen was startled to realize that saying this aloud no longer held any pain for her. “Now you must be a wife to him, and not go around telling horrible lies about the way he treats you. After all, you chose him, as well.”

And I choose Kurt.

The thought almost literally rocked Ellen back on her heels.

“Ellen, are you all right?” Cissy asked.

“I’m fine,” Ellen said, sitting down slowly, suddenly imagining the family she and Kurt could make, with William, and Johann and Gunther. Her heart shivered with the thought.

I choose Kurt Lang. I’m in love with him, and I want to marry him.

Was there any chance he felt the same way?

Chapter Nineteen

J
ust after dawn, Kurt was in the barn milking the cows when he heard a man’s voice call out, “Hello! Is this the Lang place?”

Kurt got up and looked out his partially open barn door. He was not surprised to see Ellen’s brother in the clearing, looking around. After the disgruntled expression the man had turned on him yesterday, he figured this conversation was coming sooner or later.

He sighed and walked to the open door. “What can I do for you?”

The man marched over to him. “I’m Randolph Thurston, Miss Thurston’s brother.”

“
Ja,
I remember.” The cow bellowed behind Kurt. “I am milking. You can come in.” Kurt turned and went back to his stool, leaving the man no choice.

Randolph followed him inside. Kurt continued his work, not interested in making this conversation easy for Ellen’s brother. “I have little time so I’ll come right to the point.”

“That will be best for both of us.” The streams of milk hit the metal pail loudly, rhythmically.

“Every time I come to town, I find my sister Ellen in your company,” Randolph said in a stiff, constricted tone.

“It is small town. People help each other when they can.”

“The Ashfords say that you and she have people talking.”

Kurt lost patience and rose. “What have you come to say?”

Ellen’s brother glared but stood his ground. “Do I have to spell it out?”

Kurt leaned toward Randolph. “
Ja,
I’m just a stupid Dutchman. Spell it out.”

“My sister’s educated and has been raised to a higher standard—”

“Your sister is a fine woman—educated, kind and good. And I am not courting her.” Kurt wanted to slam his fist into the man’s face. He restrained himself. “That is your concern, yes?”

Randolph looked as if he were chewing cud like the cows.

“I am busy working. Do you need to say anything more?” Kurt asked.

“No. I just wanted to clear the air.” Randolph turned and left with no further words.

Kurt clenched and unclenched his hands and then shook them out so he could continue his chore. He couldn’t take his anger out on the cows.

He spent a moment gazing around the snug barn where his plow horse, two black-and-white Holstein cows and two brown goats would winter. When he’d come here, he’d lived in a tent. Now he had a good-size cabin, a barn, a full corn crib and root cellar. If Randolph Thurston had come to an empty piece of land this spring, would he have accomplished as much?

The cow lowed as if scolding him to get on with it. Kurt sat back down on the stool and began again, milking.

I am not courting Ellen. But I would like to.

There was no point in denying the truth. The memory of Ellen leaning against him last night rolled through him.
Ellen, dear Ellen.
But while the Ashfords had begun to view Gunther as acceptable, Randolph had made it clear that Kurt was not.

And although Kurt didn’t care what Randolph Thurston thought one way or the other, he would never, ever want to make trouble for Ellen. That was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid since the very first moment he had found he liked her.

* * *

Sitting at the Ashford table after breakfast, Ellen let Amanda take William from her. An unusual lassitude gripped Ellen today. Breathing and speaking seemed to take great energy. In fact, it had since her revelation about Kurt Lang and her feelings for him.

“We’d best be getting ready for worship,” Mrs. Ashford said.

Ellen nodded and leaned her head in her hand.

“You seem down, Ellen. Are you missing your sister and brother already?”

Ellen recalled the stiff farewells she’d exchanged with her siblings at the dock earlier, and shook her head.

“It’s a shame they had to leave when Thanksgiving is just next week,” Mrs. Ashford continued. “I’d invite you to eat with us but you’ll probably be joining your cousin and her family, won’t you?”

Ellen barely nodded.

“What
is
the matter?” The storekeeper’s wife leaned across the table and touched Ellen’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said, trying to come up with an explanation for her behavior that she could offer Mrs. Ashford. “I was actually trying to think of someone who could watch William during the schooldays. I need someone close, especially for the coming winter.”

Mrs. Ashford looked thoughtful. “Maybe it’s time Amanda quit school and started putting money away and filling her hope chest in earnest.”

Dismay filled Ellen, galvanizing her. “Oh, no, she’s the captain of one of the spelling teams. And she’s doing so well. I’d hate for her to miss the spelling bee in the spring.”

This halted Mrs. Ashford’s counterargument. Evidently this woman wanted to see her daughter at the regional spelling bee—as did most parents. Spelling had become one of her students’ favorite and most studied subjects.

“And you wouldn’t want her to miss eighth-grade graduation,” Ellen said, improvising. “I’m going to ask my uncle to come from Illinois to address our graduates.”

“Your uncle who sits in the state legislature?” Mrs. Ashford asked with excitement in her voice.

Ellen nodded. “I plan on writing him soon.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!”

Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed Amanda would be allowed to finish the eighth grade after all.

Suddenly Mrs. Ashford sat back as if startled. “Why don’t I care for William during the day?”

“Oh, Mrs. Ashford, do you have the time?” This possibility hadn’t occurred to Ellen.

“Why not? I’ve raised ten children. They’ve all married and scattered. Our son went all the way to California, so I am left with no grandchildren near. And your William is a good baby. He never fusses. Why, he’d be company for me during the long winter days.”

Ellen gazed at the woman who had once called William disfigured. However, after watching Mrs. Ashford during the measles outbreak, Ellen had no hesitation. “I can’t think of anyone who would take better care of him. I will pay you, just as I’ve paid you to take my dinners here.” She let out a huge sigh. “Oh, thank you. That relieves me of such a worry.”

As she discussed terms with Mrs. Ashford, Mr. Ashford came back from outside chores, rubbing his chilled hands together. “Time we were setting off to the school for worship. It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

The ladies quickly donned shawls and hats, and Ellen claimed William and they walked together through the barren trees to the schoolhouse. As they arrived, Old Saul was being helped down from his wagon. Smiling, he waved to her as he leaned on his son’s arm. At his welcome, a feeling of gratitude suffused Ellen.

This had become her town. She was very aware that the school had become the center of the community, bringing people together, helping them help each other. She realized that she was important to this town, as the schoolmarm, the woman who would prepare the children for their future, for the town’s future.

Since the measles outbreak, the town had been a bit divided and nervous, with some people even expressing concern again about Ellen raising William, a baby who seemed to appear out of thin air and could have come from anywhere. It was simply fear, that’s all it was. Perhaps holiday cheer would bring the community back together again.

Then Ellen realized that, as the schoolteacher, she was in the perfect position to help the community reunite. And she had an idea.

She hurried through the gathering to Noah Whitmore and motioned to him that she wanted a private word. She murmured her idea to him and he instantly agreed. As she joined her family in their usual “pew,” she glanced over her shoulder and noted Kurt, Gunther and Johann taking the bench in the rear that they seemed to favor. She waited to try to catch Kurt’s attention, but he seemed very focused on the floor.

Ellen listened carefully to Noah’s sermon on loving one’s neighbor as one’s self, a theme that her idea dovetailed with quite nicely. At the end of the sermon, he paused before the final prayer. “Miss Thurston spoke to me before service today. She asked me to announce that this Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, the children will put on a brief program to commemorate the First Thanksgiving. Everyone is invited at two o’clock in the afternoon.”

A buzz greeted this announcement—a happy buzz to Ellen’s ear. She was already drawing up the program in her mind, which would emphasize gratitude to God and their common heritage as Americans.

And perhaps she’d remind people that pilgrims had been foreigners, too. She hoped she’d have a moment to talk to Kurt.

The hum of happy voices lifted Ellen’s burden. A few mothers stopped her on their way out to tell her about the fun they were having learning the weekly spelling lists with their children. As she spoke with them, she could pick out Kurt’s voice amid the many voices behind her. She soon realized she’d actually been seeking it.

“I did see him, yes,” Kurt was saying to Martin.

“I tried to head him off,” Martin said, sounding apologetic, “but he wouldn’t take my word for it. He has this idea that you and his sister are...” Martin shrugged in an embarrassed way.

“Do not worry, Martin. He didn’t say anything I didn’t know already.” Kurt turned then and suddenly she and Kurt were facing each other. A new awareness of him shimmered over her.

The ladies bid her good-day and she stepped toward him, but he turned and headed for the door.

What had Martin been talking about with Kurt? A sense of urgency pushed her to follow him outside. “Kurt,” she said, “Wait.”

He didn’t pause.

Then she did something she had never done—she pursued a man. She hurried after him into the nearly empty clearing. Very few people had come outside, as most wanted to finish their social time in the warm schoolroom.

Kurt finally halted by his wagon.

“Why didn’t you stop?” she asked, holding her shawl tightly around her.

Kurt looked irritated. “You will catch cold—”

“Randolph visited you this morning and was rude to you, wasn’t he?”

Kurt looked her in the eye. “It doesn’t matter, Miss Thurston.”

She could tell that whatever her brother had said had hurt Kurt, and she fumed. “I wish my family would learn to mind its own business.”

Kurt said nothing, but Ellen could see the pain on his face and it nearly broke her heart.

“If you saw whom my brother married, you would see how silly it is for him to object to...” Suddenly she realized where her tongue was taking her, and she halted, swallowing words that should not now or perhaps ever be spoken aloud.

“Miss Thurston,” Johann said, appearing at her elbow, “what kind of program will we be having? And what is Thanksgiving about?”

She drew her gaze from Kurt to the child. “I will tell you all about it in the morning.”

“Let us go, Johann,” Kurt said abruptly. “Say farewell to Miss Thurston. You will see her tomorrow.”

Ellen watched as Kurt led his nephew away. It was not lost on her that he had not said farewell to her himself, nor was it lost on her that she had almost said,
If you saw whom my brother married, you would see how silly it is for him to object to my wanting to marry you.

Shock tingled through all her nerves. She had almost told Kurt Lang that she wanted to marry him! But based on the interaction they’d just had, she got the impression that her brother had upset what had been growing between her and Kurt. She didn’t know whether to do or say something. What could she say?

* * *

On Wednesday afternoon, Ellen stood at the front of the packed schoolroom, hopeful that this program would bring back the community’s spirit of unity. The women and smaller children filled the benches while the men lined the walls. The standing-room-only attendance pleased her. Nonetheless, she glanced again at the door, wanting to see one particular face.

Mrs. Ashford sat in the front row, holding William and doting on him. Every parent and most everyone else in town had come to see the program. Except for Kurt. Why hadn’t he come to see Johann recite his piece?

From what she’d overheard between Martin and Kurt on Sunday, her brother must have asked Kurt to keep his distance from her. Would Kurt have agreed to such a request, such interference? Yet as a man of honor, he would never do anything that he thought might harm her reputation and Randolph might well have suggested this. The very thought of Randolph’s interfering in her life made her want to growl. He had no room to be giving her advice.

Rising above her irritation, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, and at her signal, Noah Whitmore stood at the front. “We will open with prayer.”

Ellen listened to Noah’s calm voice, his words setting the tone with a message of love and community. The tightness around her lungs loosened a notch. But she couldn’t ignore her disappointment at Kurt’s absence.

Then Noah was sitting down and she walked to center stage. “Welcome to the First Annual Thanksgiving Program at Pepin Community School.”

Polite applause and some whistling followed her greeting.

“The students have worked very hard and I am proud of their efforts,” Ellen said.

The back door opened and Ellen saw Kurt and Gunther slip inside and edge in beside the men who were leaning against the back wall. Joy surged through her, followed by trepidation. She cleared her throat. “We will begin by singing, ‘We Gather Together.’”

The children filed out from her quarters and formed ranks, the oldest in the rear and the youngest in front. A few of the children forgot themselves and waved to their families.

Lavina came forward and led the hymn. Soon the schoolroom was filled with the heartfelt song, full of thanks for the bounty of the harvest, and praise for the Lord.

When the hymn ended, a pleasant sense of expectation expanded around Ellen.

The younger children sat down on the floor in a semicircle at the front, and Amanda stepped forward and began to read.

“‘One hundred and two pilgrims left Plymouth, England, in 1620 and sailed to the new world.’” As she read, three fourth graders donned paper hats in the style of the seventeenth century. “‘They settled near Cape Cod. There they met Squanto, an Indian of the Wampanoag or Massasoit tribe.’”