Page 29 of A Convenient Heart
“Believe it or not, she was a pill when I first became the teacher here.”
His boots clonked on the boardwalk as they took the next set of steps. “And you won her over?”
Merritt chuckled a little, remembering those days. “It took almost the entire first year.”
“Because she was stubborn?”
“Because I had no idea how to corral a classroom of students. It took time to discover that some children learn differently from others, that some need a soft touch while others need strong leadership.”
He glanced at her, and she wanted to believe that was admiration in his gaze. They left the boardwalk behind, and her shoes crunched in the icy mud of the street that led back to Merritt’s home.
“Twila is actually the reason I answered your ad,” Merritt said when the silence had lengthened.
“You took advice from a youngster?” He sounded so appalled that she laughed.
“Certainly not. She invited me to her wedding.” Merritt remembered sitting in the pew after Sunday services, along with most of the townsfolk, watching Twila say her vows to Albert. She’d been absolutely beaming, and all Merritt could think was,I want to feel like that.
“I’ve always wanted a family,” she told him as they walked through a patch of shadows thrown by the sun setting behind a house across the street. “Felt like I had plenty of time to find a husband and settle down.”
Her stomach twisted, an echo of what she’d felt as she’d watched Twila cling to Albert’s arm as they skated down the aisle.
“Seeing one of my students all grown up and starting a family of her own was the push I needed,” she said. “A reminder that time was slipping away. I love my students,” she said quickly. “But I started to feel as if I could disappear into the schoolmarm for all time.”
He was quiet for a moment, the only noises their breathing and the crunch of their footsteps.
“I heard someone say the school board won’t allow you to teach after you marry,” he said finally. “Will you be happy not being in the classroom?”
She had written the answer in one of her letters. Didn’t he remember? She wasn’t sure where the disappointment that she swallowed came from.
“I’m sure I’ll find purpose and keep busy once we start our family.” Saying the words aloud brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks, quickly doused by the cold.
He didn’t look at her.
They were almost home now, and she heard the blow of a horse—there were children standing at her front door, waiting. Her heart leaped in recognition, though these bodies weren’t from her classroom.
And three tall men stood in almost-identical poses on the small patch of grass in front of her house, another shorter form in shadow behind them.
“Drew! Ed! Nick! What are you doing here?”
Two girlish forms darted toward her. Fourteen-year-old David hung back with his father and uncles. Merritt braced her feet as she caught Tillie in one arm and Jo in the other. “Hello, you two. I’m so glad to see you!” She hugged them close, noting how tall Jo was getting. Almost to her chin now.
“We heard there was a fire at the school!” Jo said.
“Are you hurt?” Tillie asked, leaning back to peer at Merritt.
David had left the stoop to come forward, and he gave her a hug from the side in the spot where Jo had just vacated. “Hi, Merry.” David had given her the nickname when he was a toddler and it had stuck.
Tillie still clung to her side as Merritt said, “I’m fine. It happened at night, when no one was at the building.”
Tillie didn’t seem convinced. “You wasn’t there?”
“I wasn’t inside,” Merritt said, popping a kiss on the girl’s forehead.
Jack had gone still next to her at the onslaught of children approaching. When she looked in his direction, she caught Drew and Ed with their arms crossed over their chests, taking Jack’s measure.
“Who’s that?” Tillie asked. The child was innately curious.
Merritt finally disengaged from the girl to step back next to Jack. She slipped her arm through his, felt his tension in the way he held himself.
