Courting Miss Amsel (18 page)

“Edythe . . .”

“A journey of this magnitude would not be inexpensive, but given its importance, I should hope that – ”

“Edythe!”

Edythe came to a halt and spun to face Luthenia. “What?”

Luthenia chuckled. “You surely get caught up in things. Can you stand still for a minute?”

Edythe planted her feet.

“If you’re thinkin’ of closin’ school an’ so forth, it’ll take approval from the town council. Before you go makin’ hotel arrangements an’ gettin’ the young’uns all wrought up, you best be askin’ for a meetin’ with Mr. Libolt an’ the others.”

Mr. Libolt. Edythe’s enthusiasm melted like an ice chip on an August day. Mr. Libolt would never approve of her closing the school to attend a suffrage rally. She straightened her spine, deliberately casting aside her despondency. Mr. Libolt was only one of five council members. Just because he disapproved didn’t mean the others would. Besides, she’d brought the community together with the successful Christmas program – even Mr. Townsend had said so. Considering the historical significance of this amendment, how could they possibly say no?

Chapter
TWENTY-FIVE

“And so . . .” Edythe stood on the teaching platform, her spine erect and her chin high despite the wild churning in her stomach. The town council members, perched on the recitation benches at the front of the classroom, stared back at her. “I ask approval to close the school the days of January twenty-five and twenty-six, allowing me and a few of my older students to journey to North Fork for this once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

She glanced at the wall clock. They’d granted her twenty minutes to present her request; she’d used seventeen. She hoped she’d managed to convince them of the importance of the trip. During the days she’d waited for this meeting, she’d made tentative plans and was prepared to act. All she needed was their approval.

Mr. Scheebeck sent a quick look down the row of men and then timorously put a hand in the air. Edythe swallowed a chuckle. She hadn’t expected the men to behave like her students. Perhaps crunching onto the little benches made them feel like schoolboys again. “Yes?”

“Who’d be payin’ for this trip?”

Edythe let her gaze drift across all five faces. She tried not to let their stony expressions intimidate her. “I would pay for my own fares for the stage and the ferry, as well as any necessary lodging accommodations. If any of the students receive permission from their parents to accompany me, I would expect them to fund their own travel expenses.”

Mr. Libolt didn’t bother to raise his hand. “You really think you can go all the way to North Fork with a passel o’ young’uns, put ’em up in a
ho
-tell, an’ not have any problems?”

His disparaging tone set Edythe’s teeth on edge, but she forced a calm reply. “The students who would likely accompany me are all well-behaved, mature children. I don’t anticipate problems.”

Mr. Heidrich cleared his throat. “I’ve heard tell you’re still havin’ trouble maintainin’ order right here in the classroom.”

Edythe could well imagine the stories his daughter, Jane, carried home. And about whom. The girl was one of William’s favorite targets. Edythe’s lips trembled into a weak smile. “Unfortunately, some children are more . . . difficult to control . . . than others. But I feel quite certain the ones who would wish to go along on such a venture would see the opportunity as a privilege and therefore treat it as such.”

“How many young’uns you thinkin’ on draggin’ across the state an’ keepin’ away from their families for
two days
?”

Mr. Libolt made it sound as though she were planning to kidnap the children so she could involve them in a train robbery. She praised herself for maintaining patience in the face of his blatant scorn. “I would like to make the trip available to the children in my older grades. That would involve Sophie Jeffers, W-William Sholes – ” She hadn’t intended to stumble over the boy’s name, but her inner hope that he would refuse to participate welled up and tripped her tongue. “Jane Heidrich, Louisa Bride, and Martha Sterbinz.”

There was no question in her mind that Missy would go, so she didn’t bother to include her sister in the list. “These students have actively participated in the study on government and would therefore benefit the most from hearing Miss Anthony speak on the women’s suffrage amendment to the state constitution.”

Neither Mr. Bride nor Mr. Jeffers had spoken. During her family visits at the beginning of the year, she’d felt both of the men were less resistant to her unique teaching methods than others in town. She looked at them, hoping one might speak up on her behalf. But they sat silently with widespread knees, their gazed aimed at the floor.

Mr. Libolt lurched to his feet. “Women’s suffrage. Bah! Only sufferin’ goin’ on right now is my own – listenin’ to this blather.” He paced back and forth briefly, his hands flying around in grand gestures. “Women are called upon to suffer – says so in Genesis of the Bible! ’Sides that, their sufferin’ is mostly made up in their heads. Everything they need is given to ’em by their husbands, so they got no cause to be runnin’ around, spoutin’ about
rights
.”

Watching him, Edythe couldn’t help but think his commanding presence would be well suited for a politician or a minister. She wanted to interrupt, but she feared facing his anger. So she stood with her teeth clamped on the end of her tongue and allowed him to bluster.

“As for closin’ down the school an’ shortin’ our young’uns two days of learnin’, I say no.”

“But, Mr. Libolt!” Edythe gathered her courage and held her hands in petition toward the dour man. “Do you realize that if this amendment passes, Nebraska will be the first state in the United States to offer women the right to vote? This is an opportunity for the children to see history in the making!”

He crossed his arms and glowered at her. “They’re young’uns an’ they belong right here in the classroom ’stead of bein’ tugged all over yonder, gettin’ their heads filled with wild notions. I say
no
.” He turned his scowl on the other men. “There’s my vote. What’s yours?”

Mr. Scheebeck scratched his chin and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “No.”

“Bride?” Mr. Libolt barked.

His gaze still downward, the man shook his head in a negative response.

Edythe’s shoulders wilted. Even if Mr. Jeffers and Mr. Heidrich said yes, they were outvoted. She’d lost. Her defeat was complete when both men also voted against the trip.

Mr. Libolt swung a sardonic grin in her direction. “Guess there’s your answer, Schoolmarm. Put your sights on teachin’ the important subjects instead of wastin’ time comin’ up with crazy schemes.” He grabbed his hat from a nearby desktop, plopped it on his head, and marched out the door.

Mr. Bride, Mr. Heidrich, and Mr. Jeffers shuffled out behind him. Mr. Scheebeck slowly rose, the pop of his knees loud in the nearly empty classroom. He offered Edythe a sympathetic look. “Hate to disappoint you, Miss Amsel – know you was set on goin’ – but I hafta agree that closin’ school just ain’t a wise decision.” The man shook his head ruefully. “We can’t cancel out days for no good reason.”

A little bell rang in the back of Edythe’s mind. She took a hesitant step toward the man. “What might be considered a good reason?”

“Well . . .” Mr. Scheebeck shifted from foot to foot, his expression thoughtful. “Some years, we’ve lost days to storms. An’ others to illness that came through an’ put half the folks in town to their beds . . .” He raised his skinny shoulders in a shrug. “A body never knows what might happen.”

A fuzzy plan began to take shape in Edythe’s mind. They’d said she couldn’t take any of the children on a trip or close the school, but they hadn’t forbidden her from going. “What if the teacher falls ill? Must the school close then?”

A snort of laughter burst from the man’s throat. “We wouldn’t expect the teacher to come in if she was ailin’. But no, it don’t close. Past three years or so, if the teacher couldn’t come in, the council called upon Miz Sterbinz to step up an’ do the duties. She was a teacher afore she married an’ had all them young’uns of her own.”

Mr. Scheebeck gave Edythe an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Now, don’t be thinkin’ we don’t appreciate the job you do here. You do things a mite differ’nt, an’ there’ve been times I’ve wondered . . .” He shook his head. “But my young’uns are happy an’ learnin’, which makes me happy. Just” – he flicked a glance toward the door, as if afraid someone might be listening – “remember you only signed a one-year contract. If you’re wantin’ to keep on teachin’, you gotta try not to rattle so many folks. You understand me, Miss Amsel?”

Oh yes. Edythe understood perfectly.

Shuffling backward, the man reached for his coat. “Got my wagon an’ team outside. Be glad to tote you back to town.”

“No, thank you.” She gestured toward her desk, where piles of papers waited. “I have work to do. I’ll walk back later.”

His bushy brows crunched together. “You sure? It’s dark. An’ cold.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Stepping behind her desk, she sat and slipped her reading glasses behind her ears. She pretended great interest in sorting the assignments, and Mr. Scheebeck left without another word. As soon as he closed the door behind him, she dropped the papers she’d been holding and put her head in her hands.

How she’d wanted her students – especially Jane, Martha, and Missy, who had expressed such interest in their current study of government – to hear the esteemed suffrage leader’s speech. She could still go. She could even take Missy along without having to answer to anyone. But how it hurt to leave the others behind.

Contrary, muleheaded man!
If Mr. Libolt had approved the trip, every other council member would have followed his lead, she felt sure. How did one man hold such control? She smacked the papers into a stack and jammed them between the pages of her history book. While she organized the books she needed to carry home for tonight’s grading, her mind completed the plan that had begun taking shape earlier that evening.

According to Mr. Scheebeck, a worthy alternate instructor was available to the students if their teacher fell ill. Therefore, an alternate was available if the teacher must be away for other – personal – reasons. If she planned her lessons in advance and shared them with Mrs. Sterbinz, the children could continue as if Edythe were teaching. The town council wouldn’t be able to complain the children were being cheated out of days of learning.

She tugged on her coat and scarf, a smile twitching at her cheeks. Mr. Libolt might have control of the town council, but he didn’t have control over
her
. Miss Susan Anthony was coming to North Fork, Nebraska, and Edythe Amsel intended to shake the woman’s hand and offer her unwavering support to the cause of women’s suffrage. And the town council would simply have to accept it.

Chapter
TWENTY-SIX

“I’m tellin’ you, Joel, the woman’s gonna get herself dismissed before the year is out.” Wally shot an anxious look around the store before he turned back to Joel. He lowered his voice, even though they were the only two people in the mercantile. “Town council told her no, she couldn’t take those young’uns to North Fork, but she’s gone an’ bought tickets for the stage – three of ’em!”

Wally pressed his palms to the wooden countertop and leaned toward Joel. “An’ she had me send a telegram to the River Walk Inn in North Fork, inquirin’ about available rooms. I got a response this mornin’.” He waggled his hand in the direction of the post office. “They got a room waitin’.” He shook his head. “She’s goin’, an’ she’s takin’ young’uns with her. That woman’s stirrin’ up trouble. Mark my words.”

Apprehension churned Joel’s gut. As much as he’d tried over the past few weeks to set aside his affection for Miss Amsel, he’d failed dismally. He’d even avoided coming to town on Saturdays out of worry he’d run into her. A need for supplies had brought him in this afternoon. He’d figured he was safe, with school in session. But listening to Wally expound on her recent activities – and imagining Hank Libolt’s reaction – made his heart ache for the schoolmarm. She was certainly creating a mess. And his reaction proved he still cared.

Joel asked, “Who all have you told about these travel plans?” Wally tended to divulge all he knew to every customer who walked through the door. If the man had followed his usual course of “talk first, think later,” Libolt probably already knew Miss Amsel’s plans. And the schoolmarm would be sent packing by nightfall.

Wally drew himself up as if insulted. “Haven’t told nobody.” Then he affected a sheepish grin. “Well, ’cept you, of course.”

Joel hoped the man’s claim was true. “Why tell me?”

Wally picked up a feather duster and whisked it over the shelves behind the counter. “Ain’t no secret how you feel about the schoolmarm.”

Heat rushed from the base of Joel’s neck to his hairline. “Whaddaya mean by that?”

“Whole town knows you think she’s a fine teacher. Anytime somebody says a word of complaint, you defend her.” Suddenly Wally whirled and looked directly into Joel’s face, his eyes wide.

“You ain’t
taken
with the schoolmarm, are you?”

Joel looked quickly right and left, seeking listening ears. But they were still alone. “Hush that kind of talk.”

Wally laughed. “Oh, now, Joel, nothin’ wrong with a man findin’ a woman attractive. Even though Miss Amsel’s climbin’ upward in years, it appears she’s still got plenty of life left in her. Other fellas in town seem to think so, though most of ’em have finally give up pursuin’ her. She’s one finicky woman. But she might like you.” He laughed again.

Joel stepped forward, clenching his fists. “Wally, I’m tellin’ you – ”

Wally raised both hands in surrender, the turkey feathers in the duster quivering beside his face. “I was just joshin’ you. Don’t get yourself in a dither.” He returned to dusting. “I was just thinkin’, seein’ as how you stood up for her in the past, you might could try an’ convince her to give up this wild plan before she causes an uproar that can’t be stilled.”

Joel leaned his elbow on the counter, worry making his knees tremble. “You really think her taking this trip will create that much trouble?”

Wally paused, looking at Joel as if he’d lost his mind. “Hank Libolt’s already got it in for the schoolmarm – always fussin’ about what she teaches and the way she teaches it. He’s wantin’ to be rid of her. Heidrich too. So far me, Jeffers, and Bride’ve said keep her – at least for the rest of the year, ’cause the young’uns are so fond of her. But if she goes against the council’s order not to take young’uns out of school for a trip . . . ’specially to hear some lady spoutin’ about women’s rights . . .” He snorted. “Jeffers an’ Bride’ll go to Libolt’s side. And the council will dismiss her.”

Tossing the feather duster beneath the counter, Wally shook his head. “I know Miss Amsel’s got some strange ways of doin’ things, but my young’uns like her. They’ve been learnin’ a lot, and they actually seem excited to go to school, not scared like they used to be. I’m afraid if Libolt’s good an’ het up, he’ll be lookin’ for somebody as differ’nt from Miss Amsel as he can find. An’ that might mean another Shanks.”

Joel nodded. Even though he’d meant to avoid Miss Amsel for his own good, he had his nephews to consider. They loved their teacher, they loved school, and he wanted them to continue learning without fear. But would his talking to her do any good?

“I don’t know, Wally. She’s an independent woman.”

Wally chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” He leaned forward, his expression hopeful. “But you’ll try?”

For his nephews’ sakes, Joel had to try. “I reckon so.” He carted his boxes of goods to his wagon, then checked his timepiece. School would let out in another half hour. He could stick around town, swing by to fetch the boys, and see if Miss Amsel would like a ride to Miz Kinsley’s. That’d give him a chance to talk to her.

Joel climbed into his wagon and curled his hands around the traces. But instead of getting Jody moving, he closed his eyes and offered a prayer.

Lord, I believe You brought Miss Amsel to this town. She’s a fine teacher, an’ my boys would miss her somethin’ fierce if she got dismissed. I told Wally I’d talk to her, an’ I will, but I’m gonna need Your help. Let me talk to her as a concerned pa, not as a man who harbors feelings for her. Whisper in her heart what she needs to do to keep peace in town.

He closed with the same request he’d made for Miss Amsel since Christmas Day when she’d confessed she wasn’t a believer:
Mostly, let her find peace in You.

Giving the reins a flick, he set Jody into motion. He aimed the horse toward the school. He’d have a cold wait in the schoolyard, but it would give him time to formulate words to convince Miss Amsel to cancel her trip to North Fork. He sure hoped she’d listen to reason.

Nineteen pairs of eyes watched the wall clock. Nineteen bodies poised, elbows braced, feet pointed toward the aisles. Nineteen students anticipated three o’clock – when school let out for the day. Edythe hid a smile. The children’s end-of-the-day ritual never ceased to amuse her. The minute hand ticked into position, pointing directly at the twelve, and every pair of eyes shifted to look at Edythe. She bobbed her head. “Class dismissed.”

With a whoop, the children thundered toward the cloakroom. Edythe followed at a more sedate pace, pausing to scoop up a discarded slip of paper or push a desk back into alignment. She tucked her coat around her shoulders to block the wind, then stepped onto the porch, where she could oversee the students’ departure.

Despite the cold, most of her pupils still walked to school, so she frowned in puzzlement when she spotted a waiting wagon. Then her body gave a jolt – a purely unconscious reaction – when she recognized Joel Townsend on the wagon’s seat. He wrapped the reins around the brake handle and hopped down. Edythe took a shuffling step backward when he moved toward the schoolhouse.

His nephews scampered past him and climbed into the back of the wagon. Mr. Townsend reached the porch and stared directly into her eyes. Normally he greeted her with a smile, but today his mouth was set in a grim line. Edythe’s pulse sped as an unnamed worry claimed her. She realized she hadn’t spoken to him in weeks – by her own choice. But now, looking into his handsome, serious face, she begrudged those lost opportunities.

“G-good afternoon, Mr. Townsend.” Though she stuttered a bit, she was surprised how normal her voice sounded.

“I need to speak with you, please.”

She’d never seen him so somber. She gulped. “Please come in.” She stopped in the cloakroom rather than leading him into the schoolroom. The schoolroom was her domain. The remembrance of the town council members’ negative reactions to her recent request had cast a pall over the room in the days following their meeting. Mr. Townsend’s solemnity put her defenses on alert. She wouldn’t risk a second attack in her place of security.

Shifting to face him, she held tight to her coat lapels. “Is everything all right with Johnny and Robert?”

His nose was red, his eyes watery. He rubbed one gloved finger under his nose before answering. “The boys’re fine. But – ” He scuffed the toe of his right boot against the floor. “I need to ask you somethin’.” He flicked a quick, unsmiling glance at her before staring at the floor again. “Are you really goin’ to North Fork after the town council said you couldn’t?”

Apprehension faded and was quickly replaced by anger. “Apparently Mr. Scheebeck has been talking.”

Mr. Townsend raised one shoulder in a sheepish shrug. “Yep. Is he spoutin’ truth?”

Although she should exercise restraint – she was the teacher meeting a parent in the schoolhouse – irritation chased good sense away. “Why do you ask?” she snapped.

He blinked twice. “ ’Cause I . . . want to know.”

Edythe wadded her coat in her arms in lieu of clenching her fists. “I fail to see why my travels would concern you, but if you must know . . . yes. I intend to go to North Fork and hear Miss Anthony speak.”

Mr. Townsend shivered. “Can we step in by the stove?”

“No.”

He shot her a startled look.

“The classroom is for school business. We’re discussing my personal business, so we can stay right here.”

Mr. Townsend’s jaw tightened. “All right.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Then I have to tell you, you’re makin’ a mistake. Everyone knows the town council voted against your trip. So far, only Wally Scheebeck an’ me know you’re plannin’ to go, but it won’t be long an’ word’ll spread. You going to North Fork after the council told you to stay here is gonna stir up a heap of trouble. You could very well lose your job, and I’m not looking forward to us losing a perfectly good teacher.”

Although he’d started out in a stern voice, by the time he’d finished, his tone had gentled. Edythe sensed his very real desire to protect her, as he’d done numerous times before. It still goaded that he would try to tell her what to do, but she forced aside her aggravation and replied in kind.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m afraid Mr. Scheebeck has distorted a few of the facts. The town council did, indeed, tell me I couldn’t close the school in order to take students to North Fork. What Mr. Scheebeck doesn’t seem to realize is that the council did not forbid
me
from going.”

Confusion clouded the man’s face. “Wally said you got
three
tickets for the stage. Doesn’t that mean . . . ?”

Edythe nearly rolled her eyes. Mr. Scheebeck needed to learn to control his wagging tongue. If there were another mercantile in town, she’d take her business elsewhere. “Those tickets are for Luthenia, Missy, and me.” She tipped her head and forced the irritation from her tone. “I trust the town council won’t oppose me removing my own sister from school. Especially since I have the ability to make sure she keeps up with her studies while we travel. The other students will remain here, with Mrs. Sterbinz stepping in as my replacement for a few days. They’ll be well cared for in my absence.”

He worked his lips up and down as if seeking words. Finally he blurted, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

His sincere befuddlement made her want to laugh, but the situation wasn’t funny. If her family had lost property, surely other families had lost property, too. People – all people, whether male or female – should have the right to maintain what was legally theirs. Unless the laws changed, women would continue to forfeit valuable and dear possessions to men who might not view those belongings as important. She would not sit idly by and do nothing.

“Yes,” she answered.

“It’s gonna create problems.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“Town council might even elect to remove you as teacher.” Worry laced his tone.

She swallowed. “I know.”

“And you’re still gonna go?”

She answered with all the fervency she could muster. “I’m going.”

Sadness crept across his features. It was a moment before he spoke again. “I’ll be prayin’ God’s will for you, then. You’re a good teacher, an’ we need you here. It would be awful hard on . . . my boys . . . to have to say good-bye to you, Edythe.”

He turned on his heel and thumped out into the cold January afternoon, leaving her alone in the cloakroom. Not until he’d climbed into his wagon and brought down the reins on the horse’s rump did she realize he’d called her Edythe instead of Miss Amsel. Unexpectedly, warmth built in the center of her chest and spread outward, filling her with pleasure. She replayed the sound of his voice speaking her name until tears stung her eyes.

He’d talked to her as a friend. Not as someone wishing to order her about, indifferent to her feelings, but as someone who genuinely cared. She rushed out onto the porch and leaned against the railing, straining toward him as the wagon rolled away. For one brief moment, she considered canceling her plans just to avoid causing Mr. Townsend –
Joel
– undue distress.