Mary Connealy (33 page)

“I only called you stupid because I know you’re
not
stupid.”

Sophie was unable to think of a sensible response to that, so she fell silent.

Her girls weren’t speechless. “You called us stupid, too,” Beth said. “Does that mean you don’t think we’re stupid, neither?”

“Of course I don’t think you girls are stupid. I know you’re a right smart bunch of children,” Clay reassured her.

“So if you call us stupid when you think we’re smart,” Mandy asked hesitantly, “does that mean when you say you love us you really hate us?”

Clay pulled his hat off his head and started whacking his leg again. Sophie knew there wasn’t a speck of dust left on his hat or his pants. She was also curious about how Clay would answer.

“If I really thought you were stupid, I’d expect you to do stupid things. But when I know you’re smart and you do stupid things, then I think I’ve got reason to complain. Do you understand that?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sophie said. “You expect better from us. But the word
stupid
is so hurtful….”

“Not if you’re smart it isn’t,” Clay protested. “It’s like if I called you ugly, when you’re so pretty. You’d know I didn’t mean—”

“Did Pa just call you ugly, Ma?” Sally asked from behind them. She stuck her head between them with a worried frown on her face.

Clay plunked his hat back on his head and ran one gloved hand over his face, as if he could scrub hard enough to wash the whole trip home from church out of his mind.

“No, Sally, in fact I think he just called me pretty.”

“But that’s not what I heard,” Sally interrupted.

“And he didn’t answer about hating us,” Beth added with a break in her voice.

Mandy said quietly, “That’s mean, Pa.”

Laura bounced on Mandy’s lap and said, “Mama ugwee.”

“Quiet!” Clay roared.

Sophie was afraid that even the trailing Miss Calhoun could hear that one.

“I think you’re all as smart as any girls I’ve ever known,” Clay shouted. “Of course I’ve never known any girls, but…well, just never you mind that. I never heard tell of girls who could be so smart. Don’t ever say I hate you. It’s just a plain dirty lie to say such a thing.” Clay turned to glare at the girls over his shoulder with an expression that was as unloving as any Sophie had ever seen. In a strange way, that made her believe him.

“I told you all I love you, and if that ever changes I’ll let you know. So unless I’ve said different, I love you and that’s that.” Clay turned back to the horses in a huff.

“And I think you’re all beautiful. Your Ma is the prettiest lady in church, in Mosqueros, in Texas, and maybe in the whole world. She’s prettier than any I’ve seen before, and you all look just like her, so you’re pretty, too. Now, could we just ride quiet the rest of the way home?” He shook the reins as if he wanted the ride to be over.

Sophie thought of her work-roughened hands and her scattered hair and her plain dresses. “You really think I’m pretty?”

Clay looked away from the horses. His expression made her wonder what he’d heard in her voice. “I think I’m the luckiest man alive to have such a pretty little wife as you, Sophie. You have to know how beautiful you are.”

If Sophie had ever thought about her looks, it had been a long time ago as a dreamy-headed teenager. She hadn’t given it much notice since.

She looked into Clay’s warm eyes for a long time, wishing she could be alone with him for just a few minutes. She’d tell him she loved him, and she’d reassure him one more time that she’d never lie to him again. Which reminded her, “Um, Clay, I don’t think you ever finished lecturing me about the booby traps.”

Clay sighed. “Are you going to quit setting your traps now?”

Sophie nodded.

“And leave the outdoor repairs to me?”

“I promise.”

“And trust me to protect this family?”

“I will, Clay. I already do,” Sophie said fervently.

“Then I reckon the lecture’s over.” Clay turned back to the horses and clucked at them again.

Sophie felt like Clay had been cheated out of his scolding. She deserved it after all. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to urge him to yell at her.

As the ranch came in sight, Sophie’s mind turned to the dinner ahead and the fussy Miss Calhoun. Sally poked her head between them again and turned to Clay.

He looked down at her. “What?”

Sally said with wide-eyed innocence, “I think you’re pretty too, Pa.”

Clay seemed taken aback for a moment, then he smiled down at Sally and chucked her under the chin with his gloved fist. “Well, thank you darlin’. I reckon that’s about the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Sally grinned and pulled her head back. The last few yards of the trip were completed with Clay chuckling softly while he guided the horses.

Clay helped Miss Calhoun down off her horse just as Adam, Luther, Buff, and the others came riding into the ranch from different directions. They’d ridden out of church ahead of the McClellen wagon and disappeared to scout the trail for danger.

Sophie thought of the huge bird she had roasting. “Clay, we have plenty of turkey. Ask the men if they want to eat with us.”

“That’s a right nice idea.” Clay went and talked to them out of Sophie’s hearing. She wondered if they were talking about more than the invitation. She was a mite annoyed to be kept in the dark. But remembering her promise to herself and God, she minded Clay’s obvious wish to confer privately with the men and turned her attention to Miss Calhoun.

“Did you enjoy your ride out here, Miss Calhoun? We could have made room for you in the wagon.”

“I need to take my horse out when I can.” Miss Calhoun neatly removed her black gloves, tugging gently on one finger at a time. “He stands idle in the stable too much of the time.”

Her gloves tucked neatly away, she followed Sophie and the girls into the house. “Let me help get the meal.” Miss Calhoun carried a satchel with her, and she produced a large white apron from it.

Miss Calhoun proved to be more approachable when she was working side-by-side with Sophie and the girls. Sophie was pleased when the young woman produced a carefully wrapped loaf of bread from the satchel to add to the meal.

When Sophie called out to the men that the food was ready, they all came trooping in the front door.

“There’s a stew warming in the bunkhouse, too.” Whitey pulled his hat off his head and twisted it in his hands. “We’ll only have a bite of your turkey, ma’am. Thank you for inviting us.”

Each of the men had a kind word of thanks to say as they filed through. Sophie became alarmed as she sliced away at the ever-shrinking turkey and filled the plates the men brought from the bunkhouse. The big bird lasted though, and after the last of the men went outside, she began filling plates for the women. She noticed Clay went outside with the men, and Sophie felt betrayed—and a little jealous. Then the very proper Miss Calhoun sat down, and Sophie began to think of her daughters’ table manners.

They didn’t have any.

Miss Calhoun sat at the McClellen’s undersized table with all the dignity of a queen. She ate so neatly and cut her turkey so precisely, every move Sophie made seemed clumsy by comparison. Sophie spent the whole meal correcting the girls’ manners, and from the surprised looks they gave her, she knew they’d never heard a lot of this stuff before.

“How long have you been in Mosqueros, Miss Calhoun?” Sophie asked. “Is this your first year?”

Miss Calhoun chewed thoroughly and swallowed. “I started with a winter term. I took over when the last teacher married Mr. Badje.”

Sophie remembered the banker’s very young wife and nodded. “How do you like it?”

Miss Calhoun lay her fork down daintily and folded her hands in her lap. “There were far fewer students for the winter term. The school is growing.”

Sophie noticed Miss Calhoun didn’t answer her question. “More people are moving into the area.” Sophie then thought of all the men who had proposed to her two years ago. “There weren’t many women here when we first settled. I know the Reeveses are newcomers.” The minute Sophie mentioned the Reeveses, she regretted it. She remembered the tense expression on Miss Calhoun’s face in church. She was reminded of it because that exact look reappeared.

Miss Calhoun made an effort to answer; then with a sudden fumbling movement that was at odds with her usual manner, she dragged a handkerchief out of her sleeve and pressed it to her lips. At first Sophie thought the young woman was trying to physically hold words inside herself that she thought were better left unsaid. Then she saw that Miss Calhoun was crying. There was no sobbing, but a tear ran down Miss Calhoun’s cheek, and she took an occasional broken breath.

The whole table fell silent. Sophie saw the girls all stare wide-eyed at the sight of the very proper teacher losing her composure. Sophie finally got past her surprise and jumped up from the table. She wrapped her arms around Miss Calhoun’s trembling shoulders. “What is it, Grace? Did something happen? Are the boys too much trouble at school?”

Miss Calhoun didn’t correct Sophie’s use of her name, which told Sophie just how upset she was. Miss Calhoun shook her head slightly, then shrugged, then nodded. At last the trembling subsided. Sophie thought Miss Calhoun cried more neatly than anyone she’d ever seen.

“I’m going to be fired,” Miss Calhoun whispered.

Sophie gasped. She’d heard only good things about how the school was run. “Daniel Reeves doesn’t like the way you handle his children?”

Miss Calhoun shook her head. “It isn’t him. It’s that since those boys have come, everything is in chaos. I don’t seem to be able to make them behave. And now the other boys are beginning to imitate their unruliness, and the girls are being neglected. It’s been pandemonium for two solid weeks. The school board made a surprise inspection on Friday.”

Miss Calhoun’s voice faltered. “They found everything in an uproar, and even though the children settled down once they knew the men were from the board, it was too late. I’m sure I won’t be asked back after this term. And I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Miss Calhoun’s voice broke again, and Sophie heard real fear under the tears.

“It’s taking every cent I have to live,” Miss Calhoun sobbed. “I have no savings and no family to go back to.”

“I’m sure the board understands that it’s not your fault. Anyone would have trouble making those children behave. A new teacher will be in the same situation.”

“I think they’re looking for a man. That’s probably for the best.” Miss Calhoun made a supreme effort and made a tidy swipe of the handkerchief over her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She squared her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have made such a spectacle of myself.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t get over the shock of crying in public. Then she moved her shoulders restlessly, and Sophie realized Miss Calhoun wanted her to move away.

Sophie obliged and sat back down at the table. Miss Calhoun turned back to her meal.

“You are not going to be fired, Miss Calhoun,” Sophie said. “One unruly family shouldn’t be able to drive out a good teacher. We will figure something out, and we just might start with a visit to Daniel Reeves to insist he take his sons in hand.”

Miss Calhoun looked terrified. “Oh, please don’t do that.”

Sophie reached out to pat Miss Calhoun’s hand, but Miss Calhoun jerked away. She pushed her chair back from the table. “It was wrong of me to bother you with my little problems. I’ve just got to try harder to manage my classroom. This is my problem, and I’ll solve it myself.”

She stood. “Thank you for the meal. I hope the girls can make it to school for the fall term. For who–whoever is the teacher.” Miss Calhoun’s voice broke. “I need to get back.” She turned and ran out of the ranch house.

“Wait, Grace.” Sophie dashed for the front door in time to see Miss Calhoun untie her horse and swing herself up on his back.

“We thought you’d spend the afternoon with us, Miss Calhoun,” Sophie called out to her.

Grace was already guiding her horse away. She called over her shoulder, “Thank you again.”

Sophie heard Clay call out from the side of the house where he sat eating with the other men, “Miss Calhoun, someone needs to ride back with you.”

Miss Calhoun was far enough away she didn’t hear him—or she pretended she didn’t. Sophie suspected it was the latter.

“Luke, Andy, ride with her. Eustace, Miguel, Rio, get ahead of her and check the trail around her. Hurry.” Clay came around the house.

There must have been horses already saddled, because there were men riding out within seconds. Only then did Sophie breathe a sigh of relief.

“Why’d she leave so fast?” Clay walked up to stand beside Sophie.

“It must have been something I said,” Sophie said weakly.

Clay shook his head. “Why am I not surprised?”

Sophie thought of the promises she’d made to God the last two weeks that prevented her from replying scathingly to Clay’s observation. “Clay, you are a lucky man.”

H
e agreed when she told him he was a lucky man, but something about the tone of her voice warned him. “What do you mean by that?” He didn’t find out because Sophie had stormed back into the house.