Lyn Cote - Suddenly A Frontier Father

Still no one spoke of the source of the general tension—Birdie and Charlotte—until Emma approached the Stanley family. Mrs. Stanley, who unfortunately had been born with a wart on the side of her large nose, said loud enough to be overheard, “Seems like you had a near miss.” The woman shook her head, and Emma couldn’t stop herself from watching the wart wobble. “If you’d married Chandler this spring, you’d be stuck with his baggage.”

Emma pressed her lips together to keep from replying sharply. She was aware that Mason was keeping to the edge of the gathering with his children near him. Had he overheard this? Bad enough. Worse yet, the woman had said this with her school-age daughter, Dorcas, standing right beside her. Dorcas would be a classmate of the Chandler girls—if Emma had succeeded in persuading Mason to let them come to school.

Emma chose her words with care. “I admire Mr. Chandler for offering his half sister a home.” Her unruly ears strained again to hear his voice.

“Well, he’ll be saddled with her for the rest of his life. A deaf girl. No one will ever take her off his hands.”

Emma rarely had a violent reaction to anything. But she clenched her free hand down at her side. It itched to slap the woman’s face. “My sister and I came here together so that we wouldn’t be separated. Having family nearby is a comfort.”

The woman scowled at her.

The woman’s father-in-law spoke up, “Speaking of family, when will your father be coming back from Illinois?”

“We hope very soon,” Emma replied, grateful for his intervention. Her father, who unexpectedly had followed her and Judith to Pepin within a few months of their arrival, had traveled down to Illinois to visit their brother.

“Good. I miss our checker games.” The man grinned.

Still tracking Mr. Chandler’s progress skirting the gathering, Emma smiled with grim politeness, then excused herself. Her sister Judith welcomed her.

“A strong sermon,” Emma whispered into her sister’s ear.

Judith nodded, brushing her cheek against her sister’s. “Good of Noah,” she whispered in return.

Then, as the two sisters chatted about the upcoming sewing day and watched the children playing silent tag around the adults, Emma tried not to continue to track Mason Chandler. When she’d ventured here nearer him, he’d moved away as if fencing with her.

His two girls had not joined in the sedate Sunday game of tag in the churchyard. Charlotte sat on the swing and Birdie was gently pushing her. Birdie’s devotion to Charlotte inspired the most tender regard for her. Emma had no idea what prompted little Birdie to befriend Charlotte, but God would reward her selfless love.

Again, Emma tried to keep her gaze from wandering to Mason and again failed. She found ignoring a man who’d assumed responsibility for these two little girls difficult, nearly impossible. His broad shoulders evidently could carry burdens with dignity. She hoped that Noah’s support and that of Mason’s other friends would smooth the way toward acceptance. She reined in her sympathy so drawn to him. She could not give him false hope.

She could not do more than pray that this situation would resolve itself in a good way. She had come here to marry Mason Chandler, but marrying him would have been a mistake. And God had prevented that. With what remained of her heart, she still loved Jonathan, though he was just a memory.

* * *

In the morning, doubts and worry over sending the girls to school lingered. But Mason pressed the girls’ dresses and two fresh white pinafores to go over them. He brushed and braided their hair as best he knew how, though somehow the braids ended up slightly crooked. And the bows. He shook his head at the sad bows he’d tied.

However, Birdie was beaming with anticipation. Charlotte kept glancing back and forth between the two of them. Then she did something she rarely did. She patted his arm and signed to him. He caught part of it but turned to Birdie. “What did she say?”

“She says don’t worry. Miss Emma likes children.”

Moisture flickered in one of his eyes. Emma’s good heart drew him almost irresistibly. “She does. Shall we go?”

“Yes!” Birdie answered, and Charlotte sent him one of her rare smiles. Whatever happened at school—evidently his little sister wanted to go.

He set his hat on his head and shooed the girls ahead of him, and then he latched the door. He felt the same way he had reporting for duty in the army years ago. This must be faced. He breathed in the fresh air and listened to the crows cawing to each other from tree to tree.

Behind them the sun was slowly ascending from the east and a nip of fall touched the morning air. The three of them walked down the track toward town. He was glad his homestead was within walking distance of school.

When harvest came, he’d be busy in the fields. Just a few more weeks and the corn might be dry enough to pick. The worrying thought of his friend Asa’s crop being destroyed unfurled in his mind. Would his fields, and what was left of Asa’s, feed the two families with four children for the winter? He hoped so.

Almost to Asa’s clearing, Mason glimpsed the children Asa had taken in. He still hadn’t heard the story of how that had come about.

The children were coming toward them. Not away toward school.

“Morning!” Colton called out. “We were coming to walk your girls to school!” Lily still seemed hesitant, but she did look at his girls and sort of smiled.

Mason wondered at the children coming for his girls. Had Emma instigated this? He wouldn’t put it past her. But he didn’t want to question the children. And Birdie, along with Charlotte, was already running to meet the brother and sister.

Colton drifted over to walk beside Mason. “Mr. and Mrs. Brant said it was time we walked your girls to school,” Colton said in an undertone, supplying the answer to Mason’s unspoken question.

Mason paused and wondered if he should just let the children go on alone.

Then Charlotte broke away from Birdie and claimed his hand, pulling him to come along.

He obeyed.

Birdie and Lily talked on and off as if searching for common ground. Birdie kept her hands busy, including Charlotte in the conversation.

“How did you learn to talk with your fingers?” Lily asked Birdie, appearing fascinated.

“A lady come to the orphanage and taught me and Charlotte. It’s easy. See? This is hello.” Birdie demonstrated the simple motion.

Lily tried to mimic it.

“That’s pretty good for your first try,” Birdie approved.

Charlotte signed back at Lily, who tried to imitate it again.

In a low voice, Colton told Mason, “Don’t worry. I won’t let anybody pick on your girls.”

The words warmed Mason toward this solemn boy who had helped him when he was laid up. “Thank you.”

Colton merely nodded, looking determined.

In a way, this promise was reassuring and in another way, worrying. This young lad expected Mason’s girls to be targets of trouble. But the five of them were heading to school this morning, come what may. Miss Emma and the girls were determined about school.

* * *

Wondering if Mason Chandler would bring Birdie and Charlotte today, Emma pulled the school bell rope, sounding the signal, and then stepped to the doorway to greet her pupils as usual. And as usual, the children began to run toward her.

Then she glimpsed Mason. Her heart somersaulted. He stood tall and imposing with his jaw set. His hat sat forward, hiding much of his face from her. Whatever his feelings, he’d brought Birdie and Charlotte. Emma began praying silently for the girls and their acceptance here today.

The youngest to the oldest, the children had formed a line in front of the school door. The boys wore flannel shirts, suspenders and dark pants, and the girls wore white pinafores over dresses that ended a few inches above their ankles. “Good morning, students!”