West Winds of Wyoming (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
aturday dawned with a clear blue sky. As chairwoman of the school council, Brenna had agonized over every aspect of the day, spending all too many hours to count organizing the event. Everything needed to be perfect. The whole town was interested in seeing the new, improved and enlarged schoolhouse. And in the spirit of community, each person had pledged to bring a dish to share for an early dinner after the tours of the remodeled structure were complete.

The Broken Horn ranch, owned by Chase and Jessie Logan, had generously supplied firewood enough to heat the school for the entire term. The school now had two stoves to keep the children toasty on long winter days, one at each end of the enlarged room. Gabe and Jake, the Logans’ young cowhands, had delivered several wagon loads throughout the week and stacked them by the door.

Positioned in the schoolhouse doorway, Brenna glanced at Maddie sitting at the table under the tree. The little girl’s blindness made it difficult for her to get around easily in new places without help, so Brenna had asked her to be the official greeter. Markus Donovan would join her at the sign-in table as soon as he arrived, to help sell raffle tickets for the quilt Mrs. Hollyhock and a handful of others had donated. The sampler was a sight to behold, each woman having sewn a square with a design of her choice.

Maddie’s sunny disposition was always a curiosity to Brenna. Sometimes, in the dead of night, she’d hear Maddie whimpering in her sleep and would go and comfort her. She was hiding something about her family, and her past. Other than her first name, the child refused to give any details at all, even to reveal why she had been traveling with Aunt Cora.

“Good day, Brenna,” a voice called out.

Snapped out of her musings, Brenna smiled when Hannah Donovan headed her way. In her arms was a wooden crate too large for her to be carrying alone.

Brenna rushed down the slight incline to help her. “Let me take that for you. Did you carry that all the way from the restaurant? Your arms must be ready to fall off.”

“No, no, I’m fine, really. This is all very light. Thom and Markus should be along shortly with the heavier stuff. I wanted to get started setting up the dessert table. How are you? Is everything ready?”

“As ready as it’ll ever be,” she replied as they walked.

A list of things to be accomplished zipped through Brenna’s head. Organize potluck food, place cloth bookmarks on each child’s desk as a welcome gift, have the children sign the welcome card for Mr. Hutton. At the thought of the teacher, a bubble of agitation rolled around in Brenna’s stomach.

Hannah set the box down. “Hello, Maddie,” she called out when she spotted the girl seated under the cottonwood tree.

Maddie twisted around and waved, a bright smile on her face. “Hi, Mrs. Donovan.”

“Markus will be along shortly,” Hannah called back. “He’s looking forward to working with you today. You excited for the picnic?”

Maddie nodded.

Hannah glanced back at Brenna, compassion simmering in her eyes. “It’s amazing how she can tell our voices apart so well. I just can’t get over it.”

“I know,” Brenna said. “She gets around so easily in my home. Says she wasn’t always blind. It breaks my heart all the same.”

“You’ve done well by her. Have you found out anything more about your aunt? It’s all so curious.”

Brenna’s heart filled with a sadness born of not knowing her aunt’s intentions, and for the time lost that they could’ve had together. “I received a letter from Wilsonville in response to the one I wrote to the postmaster. It was short and I could hardly read his chicken scratch, but he said Aunt Cora just disappeared. Said before that day she’d sold a few things here and there. That would explain the thirty-two dollars I found stuffed into a sock.” Brenna glanced away from her friend’s concerned appraisal. She’d also found a music box, its top inlaid with walnut, and a beautiful, expensive-looking garnet bracelet mixed in with the articles of clothing. Aunt Cora had been her only living relative. She hadn’t seen her for over twenty years, and hardly recalled what her mother’s sister looked like. She sighed, wondering if Maddie, as impossible as it might sound, could somehow be her child. If not that, her ward. “He didn’t know anything about a blind child. Perhaps Maddie was on the stage and my aunt befriended her. I just don’t know.”

Hannah nodded intently. “How’re you holding up? If you need anything I can have some supplies sent over.”

Brenna placed her hand on her friend’s arm, shushing her. “We’re doing fine.” Her heart swelled as she thought how far they’d come in the last year.
I like providing for my family on my own.
“But thank you all the same.”

“That’s wonderful. The sentiment bears repeating: you’ve done a fine job with everything.”

Brenna’s face heated. She did her best to stay in the background, not draw attention to herself. Chairwoman of the school council was the first role of importance she’d held in the community and the last thing she wanted to do was make a blunder.

“Well? What about the other situation?” Hannah’s eyes brimmed with speculation.

Brenna tried to pretend she didn’t know what Hannah meant. “Situation?”

Hannah plopped her hands onto her hips. “Don’t play coy with me, Brenna Lane. How are things with Mr. Hutton?”

Brenna felt her shoulders slump and the happiness and excitement of the day drain from her lungs. “You mean ol’ grumpy, grouchy Gregory? I can’t win him over. He enjoys being sour—just like a crabapple picked too soon to eat.”

Hannah blinked. “That bad? He didn’t impress me that way.”

“Well, I’ve given up. You should’ve seen his pleasant expression fizzle when he learned I lived across the street from him. He came over to introduce himself to the new neighbor and all but shot off my porch when he realized it was me. Hardly even smiled when the girls baked him a cake later that same day. I’ll not go out of my way again for him. Not after he broke their shiny little hearts.”

“I’m astonished. He seemed so nice when I met him . . .”

The sound of a throat being cleared sent panic shooting up Brenna’s spine. She knew without turning who was there.

“Mr. Hutton,” Hannah said. “We didn’t hear you approach.”

The dreadful man stood there all spit shined and polished, ready to meet the good citizens of Logan Meadows. His brown corduroy pants hung to his polished, black shoes. His shirt was clean and pressed. His thick hair, although combed, was a bit unkempt in a way Brenna was growing used to. He gripped the handle of the same leather satchel he’d been carrying when she smacked into him outside the bank.
He’s not handsome, so just stop thinking that.
And when you’re finished with not thinking that, you can thank your lucky stars you’re a grown woman and not required to go to class.
He’d be sure to stand you in the corner every day.

“Good day, Mrs. Donovan. Mrs. Lane. I thought I’d come early to be sure everything was ready before the townsfolk arrived.” He took a pocket watch from his pants pocket and flipped open the lid. “That shouldn’t be long now. Is there anything I can help you do?”

“No, thank you,” Brenna said. “Everything is under control.” Did he still foster a grudge over her clumsiness? He’d practically turned in the opposite direction whenever he’d seen her. Perhaps he hadn’t forgiven her for ruining his paper. Or maybe he wasn’t happy he lived so close to her. Certainly, it wasn’t because her heart picked up speed whenever he looked her way.

Thom and Markus rounded the corner in a wagon and started up the hill.
Good, reinforcements to the rescue.
Brenna waved.

“How do you like Logan Meadows, Mr. Hutton?” Hannah asked. She lifted several plates of assorted cookies from the crate and artfully arranged them on the table. Next came a cinnamon cake and an apple pie.

“Very much. The people I’ve met have gone overboard to give me a nice welcome. I couldn’t ask for a finer schoolhouse, and I was pleasantly surprised with the supplies.”

“And your lodging?”

Brenna cringed inwardly. Why did Hannah have to bring that up?

“Mrs. Miller’s small house suits me well—and smells nice.” He laughed. “A bachelor doesn’t need much room. And the location is perfect.” His eyes cut to Brenna, then back. “Only a short walk from my door to the school. That’ll be handy when the snow starts to fall.”

Hannah laughed. “I hope you brought a wool coat.”

“It was the first thing I packed. Harsh winters in Pennsylvania are not uncommon.”

He seemed so friendly with Hannah. The conversation just flowed. Why did it always stall out when she tried to speak with him?

Thom pulled the buckboard to a halt a few yards away. He greeted everyone, then made a quick job of unloading a few more tables and some chairs, then the rest of the food the Silky Hen had donated. Markus, his hair slicked back and his face glossy clean, bolted down the hill toward Maddie, in typical six-year-old fashion.

“Appears as if things are just about ready to get underway,” Thom said. “I need to get back to the sheriff’s office and do a few things, then I’ll be back when the shindig is in full swing.” He gave Hannah a kiss on the lips, lingering a bit too long, and she pushed him away. He laughed and winked at Brenna, who felt her face heat. “I don’t want to miss anything important.”

Brenna marveled at how much Hannah had blossomed since her childhood sweetheart had come back into her life. A true fairy tale with a happy ending. Thom Donovan had scared the life out of the whole town last year when he’d passed out, only to reveal he had a bullet lodged in his skull. The operation had been difficult and the recovery long, but he’d come out of the ordeal as good as new, promptly marrying Hannah and adopting Markus as his legal son. Hannah had confided that she and Thom were doing their best to have another little one, but it hadn’t happened for them yet.

“Don’t forget the side of beef, you rapscallion,” Hannah teased Thom. “We’ve had the meat cooking at the restaurant,” she explained to Brenna. “Thom’s planning on finishing it over the pit Win dug, so it won’t get cold.”

Thom saluted his wife. “I wouldn’t dream of forgetting.”

Brenna chanced a peek at Mr. Hutton to find him watching the interchange with interest. When he caught her eye, he gestured to the school. “I’ll just be inside.” Brenna nodded, wishing he’d hurry up and be gone. “Mrs. Lane,” he added, “thank you for all the work you’ve done to pull this day together. If the open house goes the way I believe it will, the event will be a huge success. The thanks are all to you.”

The generous compliment caught Brenna off her mark and the pleasant curve of Mr. Hutton’s mouth chased every coherent thought from her mind. “N-no, Mr. Hutton. The thanks go to the good people of Logan Meadows. They’ve all pitched in to make our school nicer and this day a time of celebration.”

His smile dissolved into a straight line. “Well, if you say so, I’m not inclined to argue.”

Hannah jabbed her elbow into Brenna’s side as Mr. Hutton walked away. “Be nicer. You seem like a grouchy old hen when he’s around. Loosen up and smile.”

Brenna sighed and turned to her next task. Several riders on horseback headed toward the school, as did a buggy and some ladies on foot. Chase and Jessie’s wagon pulled up among them. More than a handful of citizens were already crowded around Markus and Maddie at the sign-in table.

Old Mrs. Hollyhock climbed the slight incline to the school, barely winded for her eighty-six years. She made her way through the crowd to Brenna’s side. They hugged and Brenna inhaled her familiar aroma of golden-brown piecrust.

“How ya be, sweetie pie?” the old woman asked, peering at her through the spectacles on the end of her nose. Her long, gray hair was done up in a soft bun on the back of her head and she wore her Sunday dress. “You excited the day is finally here?”

“I am. I can’t believe it.”

Mrs. Hollyhock’s eyes sparkled as she looked around. She smiled when she noticed the big plaid bows Brenna had attached above the schoolhouse windows. “Well, ya done did a fine job. And yer girl looks a beauty.”

She tilted her head toward Penny, who approached and handed Brenna her clipboard with several papers attached. The simple green dress her eldest wore had puff sleeves and a ribbon around her small waist. It wouldn’t be long before boys flocked to their porch, Brenna thought in a moment of sadness.

“Mr. Hutton asked me to give you these,” Penny said. “Thought you might have forgotten them inside on his desk.”

Brenna glanced down at the papers, trying to calm her annoyance.
I didn’t forget them. I left them there intentionally so they wouldn’t get lost in the hustle and bustle out here.
She wrestled her agitation away when Frank Lloyd, the bank owner, headed in her direction. Determined not to let anything ruin the day, she smiled brightly. “Thank you, Penny,” she said, then glanced down at her clipboard. “Please relay my thanks to Mr.—”

She gasped at the list, the words she intended to say shocked out of her mind.

CHAPTER EIGHT