Page 53 of Short-Straw Bride

“Get back, now, and give Miss Meri some air.” Myra Jackson moved through the throng, shooing children back toward the schoolhouse. “How’s she gonna teach us anything if’n she can’t get off her horse?”

The children moaned but obeyed, filing off toward the schoolhouse to find their desks.

“Joshua, you stay and tend to Ginger. Rub her down real good, you hear?”

“Yes’m.” Myra’s younger boy stood at the horse’s head, waiting patiently for Meredith to dismount.

Once her feet were planted on the ground, Meredith tossed him the reins. “Thank you, Joshua.” She untied her supply bag and stepped aside.

As the boy led her horse away, Meredith sidled up next to Myra. “You know, I think he’s going to catch up to Josiah soon. He’s nearly the same height.”

“Don’t I know it?” Myra’s mouth turned up in a proud motherly smile. “And him three years younger. The boy’s got his father’s hands, too. Big as fryin’ pans they are.”

Meredith grinned, remembering how Moses had curled those big hands of his into fists. Getting hit with one of those would probably feel a lot like getting walloped with a skillet. “Joshua seems to have inherited your love of books, though. Has he finished The Last of the Mohicans?”

Myra nodded. “Mm-hmm. Two days ago. He tol’ me you promised to bring a new one this week.”

“That I did.” She opened her bag and pulled out her copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. “I don’t think you’ve read this one yet, Myra. It was only published a few years ago, so it wasn’t among the books my father used to loan you.”

“Joshua might have to fight me for it, then.” The older woman winked at Meredith and tucked the book under her arm.

Meredith laughed and followed her friend into the classroom. Myra Jackson kept the small building as tidy as herself, which was saying a lot since the woman’s apron was always starched and pressed, her black hair always combed into a perfect knot, and her dress always so pristine that dust wouldn’t dare approach its folds. Meredith reached a hand to her own hair and sighed. Freedom had more than taken its toll. No wonder the children had stared.

Taking a minute to repair the wind’s damage, Meredith remained at the back of the class while Myra called the group to order and asked them to take out their primers. The worn books were the same ones her father had started the school with over a decade ago. They’d been well cared for, though. Unfortunately, there were never enough to go around, which was why she’d asked Travis if she could borrow Neill’s old schoolbooks.

Taking the slender volumes from her bag, she distributed them to the adults who sat on benches at the back of the room. The surprised faces and reverent strokes of the covers warmed her heart. These parents hungered for learning even more than their children did, yet they insisted the younger generation have first access to the few books and other materials available. Such noble souls. She wished she could do more for them.

As Myra asked one of the female students to stand and read a passage aloud, Meredith moved to the front of the room and quietly began writing a series of arithmetic problems on the blackboard.

Despite a lack of formal training, Myra had done her best to continue where Meredith’s father had left off, teaching the local children the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic. And when Meredith mentioned to Moses her idea of teaching at the school, she’d made it clear she had no intention of supplanting Myra in any way. She only wanted to make herself available to assist.

Myra, however, responded as if Meredith’s offer were a gift from above. The first Saturday they met, she pulled Meredith into a fierce hug and praised the Lord right there in the schoolyard. She’d been praying, she’d said, for the Lord to provide a teacher for her advanced students, someone capable of preparing them for future studies or for professions that would utilize their minds instead of breaking their backs. She dreamed of her students one day becoming teachers themselves, or shopkeepers, or even doctors. Education opened doors, and Myra was bound and determined to fling wide as many portals as possible.

So, for the three hours Meredith spent at Myra’s school every Saturday, she taught advanced mathematics, grammar, and history to the half-dozen students who already excelled in the more elementary lessons. Joshua was particularly bright, and Meredith had high hopes of him continuing his studies at Wiley College up in Marshall. Her father would’ve been thrilled to have one of his former students attend the new school, and she couldn’t deny that she, too, would be proud to have played some minor role in the boy’s success.

But first she needed to help him master algebra.

Turning to face her group of students, Meredith caught Joshua’s eye as he slid into his seat after seeing to her horse. She smiled and motioned him forward. “Joshua, would you please come to the board and work the first equation?”

“Yes, Miss Meri,” he said, matching her quiet tone so as not to disturb the rest of the class.

And so it began. Each of the older children took turns working problems, and when not at the blackboard, they practiced on their slates. If one student made an error, another could volunteer to make the correction. Once the algebra problems had been completed, Meredith administered the oral quiz she had prepared over the Boston Tea Party. The students had only one history text between them, but they had worked out a system that allowed each person to take possession of it on a different day, and she was pleased by how much they had retained.

The students had just started reciting their grammar lesson when the light from the doorway abruptly dimmed. Meredith glanced up to see a large man standing in the entrance.

“Moses?” The concern in Myra’s voice sharpened Meredith’s attention.

Why had he come? Had Josiah been hurt? Or . . . Travis? Meredith took an involuntary step closer to the aisle, her heart thumping painfully in her chest.

“I need a word with Miss Meri.” He pointed the hat he held in his hand toward her, his gaze finally leaving his wife to settle on Meredith.

“Finish your recitations, children,” she murmured as she took her cloak down from the nail on the side wall. “And study lessons seven and eight for next week.”

Her students nodded but did nothing to break the unnatural hush that had fallen over the schoolroom. The quiet only amplified Meredith’s unease, and every time a floorboard squeaked as she made her way to the door, the echo frayed her nerves further. By the time she reached Moses and followed him outside, her hands were shaking.

Moses tried to lead her a discreet distance away, but she grabbed hold of his arm, needing answers more than privacy. “Has something happened to my husband?”

“No, ma’am.” He turned to face her, his earnest expression spearing relief through her. “Everybody be fine.”