Read Love Finds a Home (Anthologies) Online

Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

Tags: #Widowers, #Widows, #Christian, #Clergy, #Gamblers, #Fiction, #Romance, #Teachers, #Historical, #Young Women, #General, #Religious, #Love Stories

Love Finds a Home (Anthologies) (17 page)

BOOK: Love Finds a Home (Anthologies)
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Ernie toyed with his fork as he stared across the table at Judith. Grace sat beside her, and Andy was seated next to Ernie. The children had been chatting with one another, but Ernie felt too nervous and tongue-tied to say anything sensible to Judith. He didn’t know what had come over him when he’d invited her to join them for supper. Being around the pretty schoolteacher made him feel so scruffy and dim-witted.

 

He thought about his late wife and how she used to make him feel. Anna had been quiet, meek, and pretty—but in a plain sort of way. She’d been the daughter of a lock tender and hadn’t received any more education than Ernie. He’d loved her, though, and would never regret the years they’d had together.

 

Ernie wondered if his attraction to Judith King went deeper than her physical beauty.
Maybe I’m interested in her because I know I can’t have her. Sort of like the fish in the canal that can never live on land
.

 

He chanced another peek at Judith, and she offered him a brief smile but then looked quickly away. Did she feel as nervous as he did this evening?

 

Sure wish our food would come. At least then we’d have somethin’ to do besides sit here and stare at each other
.

 

Ernie was relieved when Grace leaned over and said something to her teacher. That left Andy free to talk to him. “How’s that arm feelin’, son?” he asked. “Does it still hurt real bad?”

 

“Naw, it’ll be okay.” Andy shook his head, but his pained expression told Ernie he wasn’t quite as brave as he pretended to be.

 

“You gonna be able to do your schoolwork with your left hand?”

 

Andy frowned. “I don’t write so well even with my right hand, so I’ll probably make a mess of things when I try to use the other one.”

 

“We could spend time in the evenings practicin’,” Ernie suggested.

 

“Yeah, maybe so.” The boy leaned closer to his father and whispered, “I’m wantin’ to write somethin’ to put in Miss King’s letter box.”

 

Ernie smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just take your time as you print each letter.” He reached for his glass of water and took a drink.
If I was one of Judith’s pupils, I know what I’d say
.

 

 

The following day, Judith waited until school was dismissed to check the letter box. Roger, the boy who had pushed Andy off the porch, had been sent outside to chop wood as his punishment. She’d kept two other boys, Garth and Eric, after school to write essays because they had talked out of turn today. While the boys worked, Judith planned to answer the recent letters she’d received, putting those that were unsigned in the second box inside the coatroom and saving the others to hand out to the students who had signed their names. Judith pulled the first one out and read it silently.

 

Dear Teacher:
How come Beth gets to play the part of Mary in the Christmas program?
Ruby

 

She turned the paper over and wrote on the back:

 

Dear Ruby:
Beth is older, and there are more lines for her to speak
.
I think you will make a sweet little angel
.
Miss King

 

The next letter brought a smile to Judith’s lips.

 

Dear Teacher:
Is it true that a giraffe sleeps standing up? Can I sleep that way, too?
Andy

 

Judith noticed the boy’s disjointed letters. It must have been difficult for him to print with his left hand. She flipped the paper over and wrote the following reply:

 

Dear Andy:
The book I have about giraffes says they do sleep standing up. Horses and mules do that sometimes, too. If we tried to sleep while still on our feet, we would lose our balance and fall over
.
Miss King

 

There was one more letter in the box, and this one was not signed. It read:

 

Dear Teacher:
I think you’re smart and very purty
.

 

Judith heard some snickering and glanced at the back of the room. Eric and Garth had their heads together, and she wondered if they knew something about the unsigned letter. Perhaps one of them had written it as a practical joke. It had to be a prank, because she was sure none of her students thought she was pretty.

 

She rose from her chair and marched over to the boys. “What’s so funny, and why are you out of your seats?”

 

“Nothin’s funny. We was just talkin’.” Garth wrinkled his nose, Eric looked kind of sheepish, but they both scampered back to their desks.

 

“Are you finished with your essays?” she questioned.

 

“Not yet,” Eric replied.

 

“Almost,” said Garth.

 

Judith glanced at the clock on the far wall. “Please get them done, or you’ll be late getting home for supper.” She moved back to her desk, and the unsigned letter caught her attention again. Should she respond to it, and if so, what should she say?

 

Pursing her lips, she picked up her pencil.

 

Dear Student:
It’s nice to know that you think I’m smart and pretty. No one has ever told me that before
.
Miss King

 

She held the end of the pencil between her teeth.
Should I have said that? If this letter was written by one of the troublemakers, anything I say could be used in their next joke
.

 

Quickly, she erased what she had written and started over.

 

Dear Student:
It’s nice to know that you think I’m smart and pretty. Thank you
,
Miss King

 

 

Ernie stepped into the small clapboard house he shared with his children during the winter months. It had been a long day, and he was tired and chilled clear to the bone.

 

“How’s your arm?” he asked Andy, who sat on the living room floor in front of the woodstove, reading a book.

 

“Gettin’ better, Papa.”

 

Ernie bent over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Glad to hear it.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s your sister?”

 

“When we got home from school, Grace said she was tired, so she went to her room to take a nap.”

 

“Okay.” Ernie squatted down beside his son. “How was school today? Did everything go okay?”

 

Andy shrugged. “Same as always.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

“Think we can eat supper with Miss King again?”

 

Ernie stiffened. He wanted that, too. Fact was, he’d give most anything to spend more time with Judith.

 

“Papa? Did ya hear what I said?” Andy persisted.

 

“Yeah, I heard.”

 

“Can we ask her then?”

 

Ernie blew out his breath. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

 

CHAPTER 8

 

C
hristmas was only a few days away, and an air of excitement had filled the school for the past week. Judith had dismissed her class nearly an hour ago and had almost finished cleaning the schoolhouse when she heard a
thump, thump
on the porch. Had one of the children forgotten the gift he’d made for his parents?

 

She rushed to the door, and when she opened it, a gust of chilly air blew in, sending shivers up her spine. To her surprise, no student waited on the porch. It was Ernie Snyder, and he stood beside a perfectly shaped pine tree that was nearly as tall as him. “I was on my way home from work and saw this growin’ along one section of the canal. Thought you’d like it for the Christmas program,” he mumbled, looking down at his snow-covered boots.

 

“Oh Ernie, this is so nice. I wasn’t sure if we would even have a tree, and it will certainly make the room look more festive.”

 

He only nodded in reply.

 

“Are Grace and Andy with you?” Judith glanced into the schoolyard, thinking the children might be playing in the snow.

 

He shook his head. “Naw, they’re at home.”

 

She opened the door wider. “Please, bring it inside and come warm yourself by the woodstove.”

 

Ernie brushed the snow off his jacket—the same threadbare one he’d been wearing since the canal closed for the winter. “I ain’t so cold.” He bounced the tree up and down and gave it a good shake before stepping inside. “Didn’t wanna track too much snow into the schoolhouse.”

 

Judith laughed and shut the door behind him. “This floor has gotten snow, mud, and all sorts of other things on it. I don’t think a little bit more will hurt.”

 

“Where do ya want the tree?” Ernie questioned.

 

“How about there?” Judith pointed to the far corner of the room. “We don’t want it too close to the stove.”

 

“No, that wouldn’t be good.” Ernie lifted the tree like it weighed no more than a baby and hauled it across the room. “Have ya got a bucket?”

 

“A bucket?” Judith placed both hands against her flushed cheeks. She didn’t know why she felt so flustered whenever she was around Ernie, but being alone with him made her insides feel all quivery.

 

“Got to have somethin’ to hold the tree upright,” Ernie said. “It’ll need some water so’s it don’t dry out.”

 

“I—I suppose we could use the mop bucket I keep in the back room. I think it’s big enough to do the job.” Judith headed in that direction and returned a few minutes later. She handed Ernie the large metal bucket.

 

He set the tree inside, but when he let go, it teetered and almost fell over. He grabbed it before it hit the floor. “Guess I’m not thinkin’ straight. We’re gonna need some rocks in the bucket to hold the tree in place.”

 

“There are plenty of rocks in the schoolyard, but they’re buried under the snow,” Judith said with a frown.

 

“That’s no problem.” Ernie leaned the tree against the wall. Then he grabbed the bucket and headed out the door. Several minutes later, he returned. His face and hands were bright red, and Judith realized he wasn’t wearing any gloves.

 

Ernie dumped the rocks onto the floor, picked up the tree, and positioned it in the middle of the bucket. “Would ya mind holdin’ onto the tree, while I put the rocks in place?”

BOOK: Love Finds a Home (Anthologies)
3.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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