Page 18 of A Convenient Heart
“Fine. Then we gotta talk.”
Chapter4
“Shouldn’t you be at home resting?”
At the familiar voice, Merritt turned from where she’d been staring into space, standing in the center of the empty dance hall. Danna strode inside, crossing the echoing room to Merritt.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Danna had been at the site of the fire last night for just as long as Merritt had. She had a two-month-old baby at home, along with her toddler daughter.
This morning, after walking a silent Jack to the boardinghouse, Merritt had gone home to her tiny bungalow and slept fitfully for a couple of hours. Turned out he hadn’t wanted to talk after all.
When she couldn’t keep her eyes closed against the winter sunlight seeping past the edges of her curtains any longer, she’d dressed and come down here.
Merritt dropped her hands from her waist, slipping the piece of paper and pencil into her skirt pocket. She’d thought to make a list of everything she would need for a makeshift classroom.
But the list was so long that she’d frozen, unable to write a thing. Her paper was blank.
“Are you all right?” Danna asked as she came to stand next to Merritt.
Merritt smiled. “Of course not.” Danna knew how Merritt thrived on order. On knowing what today’s plan would be, and tomorrow’s…
Right now, she didn’t know what the future held for her classroom.
Perhaps their friendship was unconventional. Danna was a woman in a man’s job. Town marshal. She’d been a deputy for years before her first husband had passed away. She wore trousers and a vest beneath her slicker, a gun belt around her waist, and a silver star pinned to her chest.
Some around these parts thought she shouldn’t have her job as marshal.
But she was good at it. And she still managed to be a good mother.
Merritt sighed. “Perhaps the church would be a better fit for a makeshift classroom. There are pews for the children to sit in.”
The church building was right across the street from the burnt remains of the schoolhouse. She could only imagine the children’s drooping shoulders as they arrived each day.
“We could put a few tables in here and they’d have a place to write. Have their books in front of them.” Danna said the words with a calm assurance, motioning around the empty room. Merritt wished she felt the same confidence.
“We have no books or slates.” She had a couple of teaching manuals at home that had been collecting dust on her personal bookshelf, but most of her teaching materials were gone as well.
“Chas and I are gonna put some readers on order with the general store. A donation, as it were.”
Her heart swelled with gratitude toward her friend.
“That’s very generous.” She reached over to give Danna a hug. “Give Chas my thanks.”
Startled to find her eyes pricking with tears, Merritt drew away and swiped at her cheeks with her fingertips.
She caught Danna’s questioning gaze. “I’m exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep.” She explained the tears away.
“Hmm.” Danna glanced around the cavernous space.
Merritt was already thinking about how some of her younger students would try to run and play in the large space.
“Let’s go to the general store and borrow a broom,” Danna suggested. “Taking action might help some of your worries fade.”
“And some buckets, soap, and rags.” Merritt fell into step beside her friend, passing through the doorway and out onto the boardwalk.
She squinted against the sun.
“How come I didn’t know about your Jack?” Danna’s words were spoken casually, but Merritt heard the undertone of hurt beneath.
