Belonging (21 page)

“You aren’t intruding, Mr. Jacobson. Mr. Murphy and his daughter came in just a short while ago, and we invited them to join us. My daughters and Charity are good friends.”

The frown smoothed from Oscar’s forehead. “Well then, you all enjoy.” He and his friend moved to an empty table near the window and sat down.

Colin couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt different at the table after that. Kathleen focused her attention on her daughters, asking them questions about schoolwork, never once looking at Colin until the waitress brought out their food and it was time to say grace.

Kathleen was mortified. Absolutely mortified. What had possessed her to feel the need to explain her reasons for dining with Colin and his daughter? It was none of Oscar’s concern, nor the concern of anyone else in the restaurant, yet the words had rushed out of her as if it were vital that he—and they—know.

“Amen,” Colin said at the end of the blessing, and Kathleen realized she hadn’t heard a word he’d spoken.

Another reason to be appalled at her behavior. And it wasn’t
helped by the voice of her mother-in-law playing in her head, telling her that she wasn’t getting any younger, that she was going to miss her opportunity to make a suitable match, to have a home of her own.

A home of my own …

She looked at Colin and offered a warm smile, determined not to be distracted from him again.

TWENTY

“Very good, Charity.” Seated in the kitchen of the Murphy residence, Felicia slid a paper across the table. “Now let’s see how quickly you can read that list of words. Just like we’ve done before. Try to read them as fast as you can. Ready?”

Her pupil nodded.

“Okay. Go.”

“He, that, on, but, with, was, she, they, at, all, out, have, there, be, am.”

Felicia clapped her hands three times. “Yes! You got every one of them right.”

“Did I really?”

“Yes, you did. Bravo!”

Charity beamed with pleasure. “Papa!” she called, looking toward the doorway into the living room. “Papa, did you hear that? I got all the words right.”

Colin appeared a moment later. He too was smiling. “I heard.”

Felicia’s heart tightened in her chest, a reaction that had happened every time she’d seen him for the past week. She supposed it was because of the weight of the secret she carried, thanks to Helen’s careless words. There could be no other reason for it. No reason at all.

Colin entered the kitchen, pulled out an empty chair, turned it toward him, and straddled the seat, leaning his arms atop the chair back. “Can I see the list of words?”

“Sure, Papa.” Charity slid the paper toward him.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the page. “I timed you. Fifteen words in ten seconds.”

“That’s fast.” Charity turned toward Felicia. “Isn’t that fast, Miss K?”

She nodded. “Yes, Charity. It’s fast. And not a single mistake.” Felicia glanced in Colin’s direction and found him watching her, eyes serious but the hint of a smile still on his lips. Her insides seemed to dip and twirl. She wished he would go back to the parlor.

He didn’t move.

She looked at Charity again. “Why don’t we stop early tonight? You’ve done so well this week.”

“Okay!” The girl hopped up from her seat. “Are we still going fishing in the morning?”

Felicia knew better than to look at Colin again. “If it’s all right with your father.”

“Sure. Why not? The ground’s dry. I’d go too if I could, but I’m expecting a big shipment in the morning.”

Charity said, “Jimmy could handle it.”

“Maybe so. But two can handle it quicker. I wouldn’t feel right leaving it all to him. But fried fish sounds good for supper tomorrow night.”

“Could Miss K come to supper?”

Her pulse quickened. “Oh, Charity. I’m not sure that I should. There’s always so much to do on Saturdays.”

“You have to eat.” Colin shrugged. “Might as well join us. I’ll do the cooking.”

He was engaged to another. It wouldn’t be right to join him
for supper. Would it? Of course, Charity would be there. Would it be any different than when she was tutoring and he joined them in the kitchen at the end of the lesson? Like now.

The room suddenly felt much smaller than it had moments before.

“Please, Miss K.”

“Let’s see if we catch any fish,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Okay.” Charity rocked back on the heels of her shoes. “See you in the morning.”

“See you at six.” Felicia gave the girl a quick smile before hurrying out of the Murphy kitchen and across the yard to her cottage. Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief as she dropped her things on the table.

What’s wrong with me? It’s so foolish to react this way. He was being polite to Charity’s teacher. Nothing more. I’m just anxious because I know his secret. But even that’s silly. What he and Kathleen do doesn’t affect me.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It could mean she would have to leave this cozy little home, that she would have to live with the family of one of her other students, perhaps different families from month to month. But that wouldn’t be so terrible. Teachers all around the country did it. If they could, so could she.

Kathleen is my friend. She likes me. That must be the reason why Colin … why Mr. Murphy seems to have changed his opinion of me. See? It’s for the best.

She stepped into the parlor, her gaze taking in the sofa and chair and small oval tables, the oil lamp, the painting on the wall, the little knickknacks that told her a great deal about the woman whose home this had been meant to be.

Was Kathleen anything like Margaret Murphy? Was that why Colin asked her to marry him? Did he love her?

She ran her fingers over a porcelain figurine.

Charity liked Kathleen and was a good friend of Kathleen’s daughters. The three girls were as close as sisters. Charity would undoubtedly be delighted when she learned her father was to marry her friends’ mother. An ideal situation for one and all.

Felicia’s eyes blurred behind unshed tears. “Silly. I’m being silly.”

She had no reason to cry. Not a single one. She’d come to Frenchman’s Bluff to teach, to educate her pupils, to help her students succeed. She was doing so. Look at how much Charity had improved with her studies. And Daniel Watkins seemed to be settling down, seemed to be a little less defiant. She was succeeding where once she’d feared she might fail. Her life was ever so much better than it had been only a month ago.

“Not a single reason to cry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “Not a single one.”

Except for the ticking of the mantel clock, the house was quiet. Charity had headed to bed early, excited about the morning fishing trip with Miss Kristoffersen.

Miss Kristoffersen …

Colin looked down at the sheet of paper on his lap. Charity’s list of practice words. Fifteen of them. Fifteen words she had recognized in ten seconds. His eyes scanned the list.

He … that … on … but … with …

Not all the words. Not fifteen seconds.

Was … she … they … at … all …

But he knew them. Saw them. Understood them.

Out … have … there … be … am.

He could almost hear Felicia say, “You got every one of them
right this time, Colin.” He liked imagining her calling him by his given name. Perhaps liked it more than he should.

He reached for the Bible on the table beside him—Margaret’s Bible, the cover and pages worn from use—and put it in his lap, on top of the sheet of paper with the practice words. He opened the book to the place where the letter was. A letter with his name on it. In the place where Margaret had put it many years ago. When, he couldn’t say for sure. Nor could he say why she’d written it since she’d known the truth he’d tried so hard to hide from everyone.

He couldn’t read.

He … that … on … but … with …

He hadn’t thought he could learn to read, so why try? Hadn’t thought he was smart enough to learn to read. That’s what the teacher had told his father.
“Might as well keep him home, Mr. Murphy. He’ll need a good trade. If he can’t read by now, no point his staying in school.”

Words shouldn’t hurt the way those had hurt him. The way they still hurt him. Not after so many years. Too stupid to learn.

Was … she … they … at … all …

In his mind, he heard Felicia’s instructions to Charity, her words of encouragement, spoken time and again during their evening tutoring sessions. Felicia’s patience seemed unending. When had he started to feel as if she were speaking to him as much as to his daughter?

He put the letter back into the Bible, closed it, and set it on the table. Then he rose from the chair and went upstairs, carrying the lamp with him. He stopped outside Charity’s room. She lay on her stomach, arms flung wide, her face half hidden beneath her pillow. At this moment, he could pound on a bass drum and it wouldn’t wake her.

He’d wanted to yell at Miss Lucas the first time she’d suggested

Charity wasn’t as smart as other children her age. He should have told the woman to shut up rather than let Charity feel the same way he’d felt for the past twenty-five years.

I’m sorry, pumpkin.

He should thank God for Felicia Kristoffersen. He closed his eyes and did so:
Thank You, Lord, for Felicia Kristoffersen.

How could he not thank God for the new schoolmarm? She’d stepped in and done what Colin couldn’t—helped Charity discover the joy of learning to read.

He eased the door to his daughter’s room closed and continued on to his own room. After setting the lamp on the bedside stand, he undressed, laying his clothes over the back of a chair. He washed his face and cleaned his teeth before slipping into his nightshirt and sliding between the covers on his bed.

Outside, the moonless night was as black as pitch. Along with the cool air, muffled music from the saloon drifted through the narrow opening in the window, a melody he recognized when the piano player reached the chorus.

After the ball is over … after the break of morn …

A sad song, that one, and suddenly the bed seemed too big and the room too empty.

TWENTY-ONE

Saturday dawned with clear skies overhead and frost in the air.

Felicia was glad for her coat and gloves as she and Charity set off for the river, fishing poles on their shoulders. As they walked, Charity kept up a steady stream of chatter, bouncing from one subject to the next. Felicia allowed the girl’s merry spirits to lift her own. Whatever had brought her to tears the previous night, she was determined to put it behind her and not think of it again.

The heavy rains of earlier in the week had carved deep ruts in the steep parts of the trail, but thankfully, the ground was now dry, the earth hard beneath their shoes. Still, Felicia was glad when they reached the level pathway that led to the river.

“Wow! Look how fast the river’s running, Miss K.” Charity set her pole and basket next to the log, then stood with arms akimbo as she stared at the river.

“I see.” Felicia stopped at the girl’s side. “You be sure you stay back from the edge like your father says.”

“I will.”

Felicia didn’t have the best depth perception, but it seemed to her the water was running several inches higher and much swifter than the last time she’d been there. Even more rain must have fallen in the mountains to the north than in the valley.

She sank onto the log and removed her gloves. Charity did the same. Then they both took worms from the tin can inside Felicia’s fishing basket and readied their hooks.

“You stay here,” Felicia instructed Charity. “I’ll go up to that bend there.” She pointed. “Call if you need me.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Miss K, you sound like Papa. I’m not a baby. I can fish on my own without any help.”

Felicia subdued a laugh. “Pardon me.” Carrying her pole and basket, stepping over tree roots, underbrush, and fallen branches, she made her way to the spot she’d selected. Minutes later, she cast her line into the river.