The Revenant (4 page)

Olivia sighed. “You would not be the first doubter I’ve encountered. People close themselves off to what the spirit world tries to tell us, and when they do experience something out of the ordinary, they are quick to dismiss it as the work of imagination or fever.”

I shook my head. “My dear papa died most tragically, and if anyone had a reason to come back and haunt his family, it would be he. And if he were to communicate with anyone, it would be me. Yet I’ve
never
felt his presence, nor heard his voice. So, no, I can’t say I believe in spirits that visit the living.” I laughed. “In fact, I find this notion of spirits very backward.”

“You needn’t be so dismissive. I will not speak of it again.” With those words, she drew away a few inches, and I knew she would have walked off had we not been in formation. Instead, she retreated into herself, her face drawn with disappointment. We walked in silence for the remainder of the outing.

I dreamed of Papa that very night—the first time since those sad days right after his death. In the hazy murk of the dream, he was sitting by the fire in his study, surrounded by shelves crammed with books. Joy flooded my heart. Papa was not dead! He’d merely been resting in his study—waiting patiently for us to realize our mistake. I bounded into the room to embrace him, calling out to him. But no matter how loud I cried, he did not look up. My feet turned to lead and my arms grew heavy at my sides. I could not reach him. I called and called, but he only looked into the fire, his eyes sad and mustache drooping.

I woke with an ache in my stomach, an emptiness that had nothing to do with hunger. Why wouldn’t Papa look at me?

Mother had erased Papa’s presence from our house. His study was now the boys’ room. His clothing, pipes, toiletries, and books—almost all had been sold or burned. I’d begged her to let me keep his Shakespeare books and pocket watch, but the rest was lost. The last time I’d stood in that room, I could no longer smell the sweetness of his pipe tobacco. Instead, the air was ripe with the stench of soiled diapers.

I thought of Papa’s cold face in the dream. Had he refused to look at me out of
anger
? Did he blame me for leaving Mother?

I shook my head. Papa was dead and couldn’t be angry with me.

Mother was angry, to be sure. She begrudged the hours of labor she’d planned to extract from me, for she couldn’t afford to pay someone else to do the work. I was valuable to her, if only as a workhorse. Was I so valuable that she’d send the law after me? Would they be able to track me down and drag me back to the farm?

A tap near the window jolted me upright in the bed. I sat still and listened. Another tap. I drew back the covers and moved slowly to the window to pull the curtain aside. All was darkness. If there was someone underneath my window, I could not see him. Or her.

Had the noise come from inside the room? My arms prickled with gooseflesh.

Perhaps a ghost was standing next to me.

I shook my head, laughing at myself. I was acting as fretful as Brutus upon seeing Caesar’s ghost, but it was only the dream of Papa that had me twitching. I got back in bed and pulled the covers to my chin. All was silence.

Tap, tap
.

“Stop it!” I whispered harshly.

Silence.

Shivering, I buried my face in the pillow and pulled the covers over my head.

Chapter 4

M
Y GOAL FOR THE WEEK
was survival. I had to keep the performance going, even if the members of my company were threatening to rebel. Fortunately, my younger students proved compliant. It was only the seniors who whispered, rolled their eyes, and dozed during class.

On Friday, however, the girls were all smiles as they walked in. When the bell rang, they sat quietly in their seats, looking at me expectantly. Their faces were radiant.

I called roll. Each girl responded promptly. I asked them to open their books. Each one did so without complaint.

“You are all in fine form today,” I said, rather pleased that my cloak of Kirtley authority had finally brought them in line.

“We are excited about tomorrow, Miss McClure,” said Alice Bell Johnston, the plump and bespectacled girl from the parlor. The plainest of the three Bells, she’d set herself apart from the others as the class busybody.

“Tomorrow? What happens tomorrow?” I saw Fannie Bell smile slyly at Lelia and pounced on her. “Fannie? Will you tell me what is so wonderful about tomorrow, aside from the fact that there are no classes?”

“On Saturdays we are allowed to go into town, Miss McClure.”

“But only if we have no demerits!” cried Alice. “So we are trying to be especially good today.” She bit her lip when Fannie frowned at her.

“What does one do in town?” I asked.

“Oh, there’s so much to see at the stores,” Alice gushed. “New fabrics and trimmings, new hats and stockings.”

“And the nicest treats,” said Lelia, her pretty face widened by a grin.

“Cookies and ice cream—”

“Or salted peanuts!”

My stomach growled.

“And don’t forget the boys!” Fannie Bell batted her eyelashes. “That’s the best treat of all.”

“I’m sure
you’re
keen to see Eli Sevenstar,” said Alice.

Fannie yawned dramatically. “Oh, I’ve moved on to better things.”

“Moved on?” Alice frowned. “Why didn’t
I
know about this?”

“Who is Eli Sevenstar?” I was so taken by the talk of treats and boys that I’d leaned against the desk and let them prattle on. At my question, however, the whispers and giggles immediately ceased as each girl faced forward to stare at me. My cheeks flamed. A
teacher
never cared about boys! I stood straight and clapped my hands, as Miss Kirtley was wont to do. “All right! Enough of this mooning about. Set aside your fancies so we can get on with our lesson.”

All at once, the enthusiasm drained out of the room. Shoulders slumped, the girls bent to their books. But the thought of town must have lingered in their minds, because they gave me no cause to issue any demerits.

That night the tapping started up again. I checked the windows and even peered behind the chiffonier, but I was none the wiser for having done so. To settle my thumping heart, I told myself some creature had nested within the wall between the chiffonier and window. And that seemed sensible in theory, but why would the creature
tap
? Mice scurried and scratched—as far as I knew they did not sling tiny hammers when building their nests. The noise kept me awake until the early hours, when finally I fell into a restless sleep full of dreams about my frowning papa, who would not meet my eyes nor answer my pleas.

I went to Chapel the next morning weighed down by fatigue and foreboding.

After announcing academic assignments and domestic chores for the upcoming week, Miss Crenshaw dismissed the students and called the teachers forward. It was time to dole out the first week’s wages. Maybe it was exhaustion taking its toll, but I nearly wept when I beheld those banknotes. I clutched them lovingly, fighting the urge to bring them to my lips and breathe in their scent. Wild thoughts of extravagant purchases crowded my brain.

But when I remembered my dream of Papa, I sobered quickly. I knew what must be done.

“Miss Crenshaw, I wish to accompany the girls to town today.”

“It will be a large group,” she replied with a nod. “I might have called on you anyway, but it’s always good to have chaperones who are willing rather than resentful.”

After the midday meal, I returned to my room to prepare for the visit to town. I looked at my plain shirtwaist and skirt with despair. There was nothing to be done about them. So I took down my hair and brushed it until it crackled, taking more than the usual amount of time to carefully smooth and pin each strand into place. I pinched my cheeks and bit my lips until they turned pinker. My gaze lingered on Angeline’s cape for a moment before I shook my head and folded it away. It was too warm to wear such a thing, and I did not feel worthy of it anyway. So I did my best to plump up my hat before pinning it securely to my head.

My scalp aching, I sat down at the desk and composed a short letter. Without reading it over, I folded the paper and sealed it in an envelope, then made my way downstairs.

The girls were clustered into groups in the corridor and vestibule, chattering with excitement. My heart sank to see them so splendidly dressed, their crisp blouses and dark skirts replaced by bright gingham and calico, their hats adorned with flowers and ribbons. Miss Crenshaw walked among them with her hand in the air, and they gradually quieted. Then she began to arrange them into groups and assign chaperones.

As luck would have it, I was assigned to the Bells—Fannie, Lelia, and Alice Bell Johnston. The three girls roomed together and were, in fact, cousins. Alice’s kinship to Fannie was not so near as Lelia’s, however, and the two closer cousins seemed inclined to remind Alice of that from time to time. At that moment, Fannie and Lelia had their heads together as each exclaimed over the other’s handsome dress. Alice stood a little apart, reading a small book and pretending not to notice the snub.

As I approached them, Fannie turned to me and smiled.

“How nice that you will be with us today, Miss McClure!”

I should have been disdainful of her snobbery toward Alice, but deep down her words warmed me. I’d never been a fashionable or popular girl, but I’d known plain teachers who were considered favorites among their students. If the Bells were going to be friendly, this might be a good day after all.

“Thank you, Fannie,” I said primly.

“You must spend some time in the shops,” she continued. “You’ll surely want to see all the new clothing available at Foster’s store. He has ready-made items, you know.”

I blushed. Easy enough for her to stand before me in her finely tailored dress and tease me about my cheap shirtwaist and skirt. I turned away and pretended to glance about the room as we waited for Miss Crenshaw to finish assigning the chaperones. Lucy Sharp stood by the staircase, looking uncomfortable in a plain cotton dress and straw hat.

“Miss Sharp!”

She looked up at my call, her eyes wide.

I turned back to make sure Fannie was watching. “Come join our group, Lucy.”

Lucy blinked and did not move. Was she waiting for Fannie’s permission?

“We didn’t invite
her
,” spat Fannie.

“I’m inviting her now,” I said, waving Lucy toward us. She kept her head down as she stepped our way, no doubt avoiding the sight of Fannie’s mouth pursed in disdain.

And so our group bristled with resentment as we made our way down the boardwalk, but faces brightened as we neared the town. The main street, a long stretch of packed dirt, bustled with activity. Harnesses jangled and wheels creaked as wagons passed. Men lifted their hats and women paused in their chatter to wave as we walked by. The cloudless blue of the sky seemed to stretch on forever, and for once the wretched wind had calmed to a pleasant breeze. I would have been quite cheerful if only I could have loosened the pins that held my hat to my head.

We first visited Foster’s store so that Fannie and Lelia could study the new selection of lace and kid gloves. Apparently, their tailor-made snobbery could not withstand the lure of fine machine stitching. Alice browsed the stationery and pen selection, a distracted smile on her face as she touched the elegant bundles of paper. Lucy and I walked about and glanced at the wares from a distance, neither of us stopping to pick up an item. Clearly, neither of us was much accustomed to making purchases. I had money now, and would get more, but most of it was to be saved. The remainder was guilt money. I clutched my purse tightly, feeling the letter crinkle within.

I followed the girls into more shops until finally we met with a more intriguing distraction.

“Look, there’s Larkin,” said Fannie, changing course and stepping up her pace toward the opposite side of the street. I followed close behind, mindful of my chaperone duties.

“And he’s with Eli,” said Lelia with a knowing smile.

Lucy was at my side, frowning as the girls greeted the two young men.

One of them looked very familiar. My heart lurched, threatening to fall straight through to my stomach. Was it …? Yes. The very one who’d sat across from me on the train and caught me staring. I looked down, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

“Sister!” The other young man kissed Fannie on the cheek. Curiosity getting the better of me, I looked up to see Fannie’s brother. He was tall like his sister, with the same green eyes and flawless skin. His hair was a little darker, but otherwise, he could have been her twin. Like her, he was fashionably dressed, his checked jacket matching his vest and his striped trousers fitting snugly.

With a glance at Lelia, Fannie whispered to the boys. Larkin laughed, and the four of them stepped a few paces away. Shut out of their circle, Alice stood staring for a moment. Then she moved closer to Lucy, her mouth drooping with disappointment.

“Is Larkin Bell twin to Fannie?” I asked, not caring that I sounded like a gossiping schoolgirl. Hadn’t I been one only two weeks prior?

“He is older,” said Alice, her eyes glittering behind the spectacles as she looked his way. “By almost two years. But he doesn’t seem eager to graduate.” She glanced at me. “He’s smart enough, Miss McClure. I once heard him say he’s not ready to travel far away to college. But I’ve also heard that his father threatens to work him as a field hand if he doesn’t graduate this year.”

“And the other one?” I couldn’t help myself. “He is Cherokee as well?”

Alice nodded. “His name is Eli Sevenstar, and everyone knows he has a pash for Fannie.” She eyed me. “That means he’s fond of her—you know, as in
passion.
”

“Oh my,” I murmured, knowing full well what a pash was and hating to think the young man would have such poor taste. “Is
he
an idler too?”

“He likes his fun,” said Alice, “but he’s a more serious student than Larkin. Eli plans to go to law school.”

I chuckled. “An Indian in law school?”

Both girls frowned at me so fiercely that I stuttered an apology.

At that moment, Eli Sevenstar looked our way. Was it my imagination, or did his eyes seem to brighten when they settled on me? Perhaps the expression was one of amusement. He’d recognized me and was thinking how best to tease. My face grew hot once more.

“Alice and Lucy,” he called out, “why are you standing back? Bring your new friend forward and introduce us.”

He thought I was a student. Well, why wouldn’t he?

“She’s not our friend, Eli,” simpered Fannie. “She’s our new teacher.”

Eli laughed. “Don’t tease me. I knew her at once for a student.”

Fannie turned to me and gloated. “I
said
you seemed young for a teacher, didn’t I, Miss McClure?”

“She’s right, Eli,” said Alice. She looked at me a little nervously. “Miss McClure, please allow me to introduce you to Mr. Eli Sevenstar of Sallisaw.”

Eli stood still for a moment, his expression now sober. Then he reached out to take my hand. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss McClure.” His grasp was confident, but his eyes were still puzzled.

“Pleased to meet you,” I mumbled awkwardly.

“Miss McClure was at the Columbia Athenaeum,” said Alice.

“You’re from Tennessee, then?” he asked.

I nodded and then checked myself. “My schooling was in Tennessee, but my family lives in Van Buren, Arkansas.”

Please don’t say anything about the train. Please, please, please
.

He started to speak, then bit his lip. “Well,” he said finally, “the Cherokee Nation welcomes you, miss. I hope you are settling in at the seminary.”

“Are we going to stand here jabbering all day,” demanded Larkin Bell, “or are we going to get some ice cream and sit in the shade? It’s damned hot in the sun.” He glanced at me and pretended to look embarrassed. “Pardon my language, Miss McClure.” He offered one arm to Lelia and the other to Alice, who squealed happily, and off they went. With one last glance back at me, Eli took Fannie by the arm, leaving Lucy and me to trail behind.

I could not keep my eyes off the back of Eli’s head. I tried to look away, but he talked so animatedly with Fannie, and she responded with vivacity. So much for having “moved on.” Their flirtation was mesmerizing … and somewhat sickening. I tossed my head. Why did I care about a Cherokee boy?