Page 14 of A Convenient Heart
This wasn’t his home, and she wasn’t for him.
His body ached from weariness. No one out here had slept, and hauling all that water had taxed his muscles. In a moment, he was going to slip away into one of the nearby alleyways and disappear.
Something about the thought was like the last draw in a poker hand revealing a worthless card.
“So, you’re Miss Harding’s beau?”
A youthful voice cracked on the words and Jack looked up.
Two boys of roughly twelve or thirteen had approached, both holding hoes.
“I’m Jack,” he said instead of answering the question.
He stuck the spade upright into the ground and held it with his left hand while he extended his right.
The two boys ignored his outstretched hand in favor of digging into the rubble with their hoes. They were enthusiastic with their efforts, and ash flew up into the air.
Jack moved a step away from them and tried not to cough. His lungs still felt a little singed.
“I’m Daniel,” grunted the nearer boy.
“And I’m Paul,” said the other, who was maybe an inch taller.
“I suppose you two are former students of Miss Harding?”
His assumption that they were older puffed out their chests. The two boys glanced at each other.
“Naw, we’re in our last year now,” Daniel said as he poked at the charred rubble.
Jack nudged a large piece of still-smoking wood with his spade. “Do you have plans after your schooling?”
“My pa works at the bank,” Daniel said. “He thinks maybe I can go to college if I study hard enough.”
Paul was turned away from Daniel, and the other boy didn’t see the way he mimicked the last of his words. Was this opportunity a sore spot between the two?
“What about you?” Jack asked Paul.
The kid shrugged. “I dunno.” He sent a resentful glare at Daniel, but the other boy didn’t see it. “Miss Harding says I could be a doctor, but that’s a lot more schooling.”
And money.
Daniel scoffed. “Your pa is a farmer. How you gonna pay for doctor school?”
Paul dug his hoe into the ash and flipped it in Daniel’s direction, sending a puff of ash wafting toward him.
“Hey!”
Jack cleared his throat, and the two boys frowned but settled down.
“What’s Miss Harding like? As a teacher?” he asked.
“She’s all right,” Paul muttered, shoving his next scoop with a little more force than necessary.
“She’s the best,” Daniel said. “She’s real good at explainin’ complicated ’rithmetic problems, and she’s patient when she’s teaching the little kids to read.”
“She’s a good reader,” Paul added. “She does different voices for different characters in the book.”
“She even wrote the script for our Christmas pageant…” Daniel’s voice trailed off as he surveyed the mess of what had been their school building.
