Page 22 of If the Boot Fits

This rundown place on the edge of town didn’t have any of the acreage the farm had, yet it cost nearly as much to rent since it was within the city limits and had access to city water and municipal services like coal delivery. That, combined with greater food costs and no place for the animals to graze, stretched them thin. Asher’s wages could keep the roof over their head, but half of what a cowhand earned was paid through room and board. Only a portion came to him as cash. He sent Mama Bess all he could, and it chafed that it wasn’t enough.

“No, it’s not about a job. It’s about his schooling.” Mama Bess turned pleading eyes on him as if she expected him not to be in favor of Jack’s education. “There’s a young lady who recently arrived in town who has some experience with teaching. She’s volunteered to help Jonathan get caught up on the work he missed last term after he began working at the livery. She’s agreed to come for two hours in the evenings, three days a week. But since it will likely be getting dark by the time she needs to return home, Mrs. Stephenson insisted on the young lady having an escort. I assured her that you would see the teacher home, at least for as long as you are here.”

Asher grinned. “Is that all? Of course, I’ll see her home. Least I can do.” He lifted his glass to his mouth, thanking God all the dread he’d felt had been worry over nothing.

Then Mama Bess’s hand pressed into his forearm, and her gaze grew fierce. “You will treat her with respect, Asher Ellis. You will be a gentleman at all times and do nothing to discourage her from returning. She’s doing Jonathan a great favor, and we must not jeopardize this opportunity.”

Affronted, Asher gulped down the rest of his water in order to keep his tongue from firing off something he’d regret saying. What did she think he was going to do? Assault the young lady on the way home? Did she trust him so little?

Setting the glass back on table, Asher kept his fingers circled around its base and squeezed tightly. “You have my word that I will behave as a gentleman at all times.”

She patted his arm, her face lighting with relief. “Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Miss Dearing will be here at six thirty this evening, so we’ll move supper up to five thirty.”

“Miss Dearing?” He nearly choked on the surname.

Mama Bess swirled out of her chair and crossed the kitchen to retrieve the broom as if she hadn’t just dug a hole and pushed him in. “Yes, Miss Samantha Dearing. I understand she’s a lovely young woman. Cultured. Intelligent.” Her frantic sweeping slowed as she finally looked Asher in the eye again. “I’m willing to look past her family connections for Jonathan’s sake. I pray you will, too.”

Looking past her family connections wasn’t the problem. It was hiding his connection to her family that had him worried.

****

Samantha reminded herself to breathe as she pulled the mare to a halt in front of the Ellis home. After setting the brake on her gig, she smoothed a hand down her sensible navy bodice to press lightly against her stomach.

You can do this. Just smile and act like a professional.

If only her nerves would settle. She hated feeling unprepared, and even though she’d spent an hour with the local schoolmarm figuring out precisely where Jonathan Ellis’s education had ended and what needed to be covered for him not to be held back a grade should he find a way to return next year, butterflies the size of chickens fluttered in her belly.

She knew why, and it had nothing to do with teaching. If she could successfully instruct a room of illiterate working girls, teaching one young man should present no difficulty. No, it was the welcome she might receive that had her on edge.

Mrs. Stephenson, one of Aunt Regina’s friends, had recommended this assignment. She’d met with Samantha this morning to go over the specifics, explaining about the widowed Mrs. Ellis and her two boys who had fallen on hard times after her husband passed six years ago. Those hard times had been compounded when they’d been evicted from their home earlier in the year. Evicted by none other than Eli Dearing. The Baptist minister’s wife believed Providence to be at work, directing the daughter of the man who had cast out the family to be the one to help them find their footing again.

Learning of her father’s involvement had only fueled Samantha’s determination to serve this family to the best of her ability. He might have to protect his investments and put business above charity in order to care for his family, men, and stock, but she was under no such constraint. The question was, Would the Ellis family see her as a custodian of blessing or a stark reminder of all they had lost?

Only one way to find out.

Samantha climbed down from her two-wheeled cart, then reached to the floorboard to collect the basket she’d packed for her visit. Schoolbooks, slate, writing tablet, and a little something that hopefully would sweeten her reception.

Someone must’ve been watching at the window, for the front door opened before she’d made it halfway down the walk. A young boy stood in the doorway, inspecting her from hair to shoes. His eyes lit on the basket with interest, then found their way back to her face.

“Are you Miss Dearing?”

Samantha smiled and nodded. “I am. Are you Jonathan Ellis?”

The boy shook his head. “Nope. Jack’s inside. I’m Fergus.”

She thought he looked a little small for twelve. He stood several inches shorter than Clint, but he seemed to have taken it upon himself to play the role of guard dog. A role she respected, having played it once or twice herself over the years.

Samantha extended her hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Fergus. Will you be joining us for lessons?”

Fergus gave her hand an arch look before deciding to grasp it. He pumped her arm as if he expected water to sluice from her mouth, then stepped back.

“Mama said the lessons were just for Jack since I’m already ahead in school. But if you got any extra books in your basket, I might take a look. Especially if you got stories.”

A boy who liked to read. What a refreshing change. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring any storybooks with me this time, but I’ll be sure to put a few extras in my basket for my next visit.”

His shoulders slumped.

“I might have something else in here you’d like, though.” Samantha opened the basket flap and held it toward him in invitation.