A Bride for Gavin Page 4

  Emma Grace followed her to the two rockers and sat beside her. Daniela looked uncomfortable and stiff. She stared straight ahead, occasionally letting her eyes dart toward both ends of the street. Emma Grace cleared her throat. “I take it you heard.”

  Daniela drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want you to know, I don’t agree with the school board’s decision. You are an excellent teacher. Just because Mister Williams is a man…”

  Emma Grace turned to face Daniela. She did know! In great detail, she knew! How long had she known? “I have less than twenty-four hours to find a place to live. I don’t suppose you could put me up for the night, just so I can get my bearings and figure out what to do?”

  If it were possible, Daniela seemed to stiffen even more. “I would… but I’m afraid I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Emma Grace fought tears that stung her eyes.

  “Oh, Emma Grace. I’m so sorry. The city council has made it very clear. They don’t want you to stay in Franklin. It’s too awkward for the children. If Mister Williams is to be allowed a smooth transition with them, the council feels you need to be… out of sight.”

  Emma Grace rocked furiously. “What am I to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Daniela was sincere. “There’s a matchmaker on the north end of town. She’s a crusty old widow who doesn’t take much cotton to the city council’s opinions. Maybe she could put you up for a few days and help you find a husband to boot.”

  “A husband!” Emma Grace halted the chair. “Is that my only option? To marry and give up teaching?”

  Daniela grimaced. “I don’t know, Emma. You’re what? Twenty-three, twenty-four? What chance do you have of getting a husband other than using a matchmaker?”

  “I’m twenty-three and whoever said I wanted a husband to begin with? As the schoolmarm, I made a commitment to remain single. Now that the board decided a man suited the position better than a woman, suddenly, I’m expected to reverse my direction and marry some stranger, for the sake of having a husband?”

  “Well, if you did… marry. You could stay in Franklin, but…”

  Emma Grace scooted to the edge of her rocker. “But, what?”

  Daniela dropped her gaze to her lap. She looked flushed. “Oh, Emma, the council has made their wishes known. There’s no one in Franklin willing to go against them.”

  “You mean to tell me, there’s not a single man in Franklin who would be willing to marry me? Just because the Council wants me to leave town?”

  Daniela slowly lifted her face. She looked so sad. “Right.”

  “What did I do to deserve this?”

  “Nothing!” Daniela paused. “That I know of.” She touched Emma Grace’s wrist. “Go see Granny Fagan. Maybe she’ll have some solution for you, or at least a room you can lease ’til you can figure out what to do next.”

  Emma Grace pursed her lips. How incredibly traitorous of the board members, the city council, the town. Why had no one forewarned her? The students wouldn’t understand either. What would they tell them? Anger festered in her gut. Surely, they wouldn’t make up some incredible lie about why she was no longer allowed to be their teacher? How dare they ruin her students’ image of her? None of this made any sense. “I didn’t even know Franklin had a matchmaker.”

  “Of course not. Why would you?” Daniela stared at her hands in her lap.

  Emma Grace sighed heavily. “Where does this Granny Fagan live?”

  “She’s in the whitewashed, two-story on Elm, just before you leave town. You can’t miss it. She’s got a rocked well in the front yard and an outbuilding in the back where she sells her canned jellies. They are the best.” Daniela smiled and then frowned.

  Emma Grace had lived here over four years and did not know anything about Granny Fagan’s Jellies. Or Granny Fagan being a matchmaker. Did she really know this town at all, except for the children? The school board’s isolating rules had seriously done more harm than good for Emma Grace. It was becoming very apparent she was a stranger in her own town. What a disservice they had done to her. Was this the reason why? Did they know someday they’d replace her with a male teacher? How insanely uncouth!

  She leapt to her feet. “Thank you, Mrs. Andrews.”

  Daniela closed her eyes. Emma Grace’s intentional formality cut deep, as she had intended it to, but she felt a ricochet wound in her own heart and hated that it had come to this. She walked away, without another word, intending to turn north on Elm.

  Granny Fagan’s home was more run down than Emma Grace imagined. She put her foot gingerly onto the porch board and hesitated. The wood creaked so loudly she was afraid it wouldn’t hold her weight. Shifting her foot to another board, she tried again. That one complained even louder. Did she dare walk to the door? Surely, Widow Fagan, or Granny Fagan as Daniela had called her, walked across this porch to exit her house?

  This house was in terrible shape. But it was better than the lewd offer she had gotten when she walked past the saloon on her way to here. A nasty, filthy, and smelly man pushed through the batwing doors and grabbed her elbow. She screamed, but no one paid her any attention. Not even the gentlefolk walking down the boardwalk seemed to care that she was being accosted by this man.

  “I got a job for you, Miss Humphries.” His breath stank, and she wanted to throw up on his boots.

  “Let go of me!” She jerked her arm, but his grip was firm.

  “Come on in. We got in-house training, li’l darling.” He laughed. A voice from inside called out. “Yeah, Houston, bring the Schoolmarm in, she’d bring us a lot of coin. Folks round here, would love to be her student!” The man inside laughed.

  Panic flooded Emma Grace, she felt strangled by it. Vehemently jerking her arm like shaking a long rope, she freed herself at last from the horrible man.

  “Leave me alone!” she screamed and ran as fast as she could while lifting her skirt high enough to allow her feet to move quickly, but not too high to offend the gentlefolk on the boardwalk. What did she care about the so-called gentlefolk? Not a one of them even lifted their gaze when she was being attacked. She lifted her skirts and ran for all she was worth. Once she turned on Elm, she slowed to a walk, panting until she could breathe normally. She didn’t stop until she reached her destination.

  Emma held her breath and tried stepping on Granny Fagan’s porch again.

  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” A scratchy old voice stopped Emma Grace from putting her full weight on the porch. She turned to find a hunched over woman. She looked like a human question mark. Her head bent awkwardly to be able to see in front of her, otherwise she faced directly at the ground. She held a long pipe. Smoke rose from the bowl. Did this woman smoke? Even in this heat, the woman had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Granny Fagan?”

  “That’s me. And who might you be?” She adjusted her wire-framed spectacles closer to her eyes and gasped, showing her one tooth on top and two with a gap on the bottom. “You’re that spinster teacher, ain’t ya?”

  Emma Grace gritted her teeth. Everyone knew her in Franklin, and she knew very few. “I’m Emma Grace Humphries, Ma’am. I wondered if I could pick your brain a moment?”

  “Pick my brain, eh!” Granny Fagan cackled. “And what might you want to pick out of my brain, dear?”

  “Well—” Emma Grace lifted her chin a notch. “A solution. You already know I was… released from my teaching position.”

  Granny nodded and waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. Idiots running this town don’t think a gal as purdy as you can teach children for long without finding a husband to run off with.”

  Emma’s jaw went lax. Was that what they thought? “But I never—” Emma stopped herself. “Well, I’ve been given twenty-four” — she lifted the timepiece brooch on her dress. “Make that twenty hours to move out of my cottage. I have no family, and thanks to the stringent rules of my employment, I have no friends to take me in. A fr— an acquaintance suggested I spea
k to you. Perhaps there is some clerical work I could do for you, and earn myself a room, just until I can figure out what to do.” Emma Grace sucked her bottom lip under her teeth. She didn’t want to beg, but she was feeling desperate at this point. That man at the saloon showed her that sleeping in someone’s barn could prove to be detrimental to her virtue, if not her life.

  The widow strained her neck to glare at Emma Grace, as if she were trying to figure out what she was saying. Was the woman senile? Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped, exposing what little teeth she still possessed. A cackle screeched from her mouth. “What…” She tried to stop laughing. “What on earth did Daniela tell you, child? I don’t need clerical help!”

  “How’d you know—”

  “I handle my bus’ness myself. Ain’t no one can do what I do. It’s not like adding figures and coming up with an answer. It’s a gift. Everything’s stored up here.” She tapped her temple. “And here.” She pointed at her heart. “And in the end ,it come from there.” She pointed a crooked finger to the sky. “I run my bus’ness on prayer power!” Her cheeks puffed with the ‘P’ words.

  Panic rose in Emma Grace’s chest. Her heartbeat increased at the same rate that her breath failed her. She felt woozy. Granny Fagan paused, considering Emma Grace for some time. This was literally her last hope. If something didn’t work out with Granny Fagan, she would be kidnapped and forced to work as a saloon hall girl.

  “Here, now.” Granny Fagan grabbed her hand and patted it tenderly. Her voice was gentle, calming. The swooning sensation waned. Emma Grace blinked and swallowed. Her throat was dry as sand. “Could I get a cup of water?” She croaked.

  “Of course, child.” Granny Fagan waddled around to the side of the house. Emma followed. Granny handed her a ladle of water from a bucket on her back stoop. Had she drawn the water earlier from the well? Emma sipped the warm liquid, soothing her raspy throat. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat again. “I’m sorry to lay all my troubles at your door, but, well, you see—”

  “You’re desperate.” Granny Fagan glared at her with one eye. The other was closed tight as if the sun were blazing in her face. “I understand.” She waddled up the steps and opened her back door. She turned to Emma. “What you need is a husband, but I don’t have a match for you yet.”

  Emma sighed. “Do I have to get a husband?”

  “No.” Granny Fagan walked into her house. Her voice trailed behind her. “But if you want to stay here, you gotta at least pretend you want a husband.”

  Emma stared at the woman’s silhouette as she walked further into her house. Was she supposed to follow?

  WAIT!

  What had she said? She had to pretend she wanted a husband? Could she lie to this elderly woman just to be allowed a place to stay until she could— what? Apply for another teaching job, somewhere else? Was it so far-fetched that she might want a husband? The dream had tickled her mind a few times. This widow matchmaker already told her she didn’t have a match for her. Not yet, she had said. How did she know she didn’t have a match? She didn’t even know Emma Grace—

  Or did she?

  Everyone in town, including that horrible man at the saloon knew her name. Maybe Granny Fagan had already checked her list and really did know she didn’t have a match for her. But why did she say, “not yet.” Did she anticipate she would be getting a match? Emma Grace took a step up but stopped. What choice did she have? With her last paycheck in hand and a little bit of savings, she could help Granny Fagan with expenses, for a little while. Maybe by then, she’d either have another offer to teach… or a husband.

  A shiver ran up her spine. She rushed into the woman’s house. It was hot. Did she have any windows open for cross ventilation? Emma tugged at her collar. She needed more air. “Could you show me where my room is?”

  “Of course.” Granny Fagan appeared from a dark hall. “Down here.”

  Emma followed her to the end of the hall. Fagan opened a door and Emma walked past her into the small room. It had a bed and a chifforobe, a tiny table next to the bed and barely enough space to walk alongside the bed. A single window was above the headrail. Emma climbed on the bed and opened the window. Emma closed her eyes, letting the breeze rush across her face. “Ahh.”

  “Child!” Granny Fagan barked. “You’re gonna freeze me outta my own house!”

  Emma turned to see the woman standing in the doorway. “Oh, please, Granny Fagan. Just the one window and only in this room.”

  Fagan frowned. “I s’pose I can’t tell you what to do in your own room.” She gestured for Emma to come out and waddled back into the parlor. “Now go get your things. I’ll have suppah waiting for ya when you get back.”

  “Oh, you don’t hav—”

  “Nonsense.” Granny Fagan waved a dismissive hand. “I take good care of my brides-to-be. You’re welcome to cook once you get settled. I know the butcher brings you meat every Monday, but I don’t s’pose he’ll be sending you none anymore. So, if you got food, bring it. If you don’t, I got my share. Tomorrow we can figure out how much money you do have and what you will want to spend it on. You can earn your keep and learn to shop and cook at the same time.”

  Emma pursed her lips. The heat made her face moist. She looked forward to the walk back to her cottage, but how was she going to get her trunk back to Fagan’s?

  Chapter Six

  Gavin clung to his siblings’ hands as the four large men let the rope slide through their leather-clad hands, lowering his mother’s and then his father’s pine box into their graves. Gavin and then Cole, then Lily dropped a handful of dirt on the lid. Others who loved his parents did the same.

  Aunt Carolyn and Uncle David were not present, nor had they allowed Gavin and the babies to stay the night. Well, that’s not exactly true. They would have allowed the little ones to stay. In fact, she had it in her head that she would take them, for good.

  “You’re just a boy, yourself.” Aunt Carolyn had stood with fists on her hips. “What do you know about raising a young, impressionable child like Cole? And Lily! Why, it’s just… obscene for you to even think about keeping that child. How could you possibly—”

  “Aunt Carolyn, you heard Momma’s final words. She asked me to take care of the babies, not you.”

  Carolyn gasped, drawing herself up with disgust. “Well, I never! My sister was delirious with The Fever! She didn’t know what she was saying or the ramifications of what she asked you to do. The proper thing would be to give those children to me. You can come every Sunday to visit. That is assuming you come to church and don’t turn into a heathen, all alone out there on your poppa’s farm.”

  Gavin’s temper got the better of him. “I am no heathen, and neither was my poppa, if that’s what you’re implying. My momma and my poppa both asked me to take care of everything. They trusted me to do right by my brother and sister. I don’t know where you got it in your head I was unsuited to raise my siblings, but you’re wrong!”

  Carolyn gasped and staggered back, like she was about to faint. Uncle David stepped forward and grabbed hold of her. “Now, look what you’ve done. You’ve upset your aunt.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Carolyn, but it’s the truth. You’re wrong. I can take care of Cole and Lily, and I will!” He had taken Cole and Lily’s hands and marched out of their home, vowing to never return again, unless she apologized.

  Angry and heartbroken, he took the mule and wagon the hour further in the dark to go home and got up before dawn to milk Prudence, feed the chickens, and dress Lily and Cole. Aunt Carolyn’s words haunted him while he laid out Lily’s dress.

  “Why, it’s just… obscene for you to even think about keeping that child.”

  As a result, he closed his eyes while she undressed, and only peeked enough to assist her into her dress. It infuriated him that he had let Carolyn’s opinion affect him like this. It was not obscene for him to help his little sister. He would never be improper with her.

  They lef
t the farm as soon as the sunlight broke the horizon and drove the mule the hour back to town the next morning. By now, Gavin didn’t care if his mother’s sister showed her face or not. As far as he was concerned, she had abandoned them when they needed her most.

  When Pastor Dalky Davis completed his eulogy, Gavin gathered his siblings to his side like a hen and turned to walk down the slope to leave Seward. He had no idea when he’d be back, but he knew he wouldn’t worry about seeing his aunt or uncle, ever again.

  “Gavin. A word?” Widow Freeman approached him cautiously.

  Gavin stiffened and sighed. “Yes ma’am.” He turned to face her.

  She smiled an empathetic expression. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Those words were getting old.

  “I don’t want to keep you. I just want you to know, if you need my… special services, I live next to the Miller. My door’s always open. I’m happy to help.” Her eyes roved over the babies. “Well, I won’t keep you.” She paused.

  Gavin stood stoic in her presence. What he needed was help at the farm. Someone to watch the little ones while he worked the fields. But since no one seemed to think they could do that, he didn’t need anybody giving him ridiculous suggestions like a mail order bride or an orphan train.

  “Thank you.” Was all he could say and gathered his brother and sister as he walked to the mule and loaded them in the back. He’d figure something out. He had no idea what, but something. They couldn’t be left alone in the farmhouse all day, perhaps he’d put a quilt in the wagon, a basket of root vegetables and a loaf of bread, and simply take them with him into the fields. But then what would he do when he needed the wagon for the harvest? That wasn’t ’til next month. He’d worry about that then.

  A month later, he stood at Mrs. Freeman’s door knocking.

  “Come in, Mr. Sallee, come in.” She welcomed him politely.