Above Rubies (Uncharted Beginnings Book 2) Page 21

Gabe tapped a knuckle on the open door at the opposite end of the classroom. “Excuse me, Miss Owens. Are you enrolling new students?”

  “Why, yes I am.” Olivia smiled and met him between the student desks and the door. “But you probably can’t afford the tuition.”

  He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and lowered his chin. “Try me.”

  “Well, seeing as how you built the place, I suppose I could waive your fees.”

  “How very generous,” he said, grinning.

  She dropped the playful pretense. “Actually, I don’t recall thanking you for building all this. It’s far better than I could have hoped for. Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome.” He glanced over his shoulder at the empty doorway. “My sister and brothers will be here soon, so I won’t stay long. I saw the door open and had to come see you before everyone arrived.” He drew her into his arms. “I’m proud of you. You have been faithful to your calling.”

  “Teaching is important to me. This is all I ever wanted.”

  He pulled back and looked down at her, taking both of her hands in his. “That isn’t true. It sounds noble, but you want more.”

  He was right. More than teaching, she wanted to see words clearly every time see looked at a page, but that wasn’t God’s plan for her. She shrugged. “The word blindness will never go away, but I’m learning to trust God with it.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  She cast her gaze around the classroom, out the open door to the village road, and then back to his handsome face. “What else do I want?”

  “A family… a home…” The blue of his eyes brightened, matching the eternal sky outside the doorway. “You want me. I love you, Liv. I always have. It’s time we joined our lives. Marry me.”

  Every drop of joy in her heart pumped through her veins. She entwined her fingers in his. “Yes, I will!”

  He leaned down to kiss her and wrapped her in his arms, lifting her until her feet left the floor. When he set her down, she wove her fingers through the short hair behind his head, wanting to stay in his embrace. “I suppose I could miss the first day of school.”

  He chuckled. “No, not after all you’ve been through for this day.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring. “I’m going to finish the house this week, but I will be ready for you Sunday. We could get married after church... unless you need more time.”

  “No, I’m ready.”

  “I thought so.” Grinning wildly, he slid the ring onto her finger. “This was my grandmother’s.”

  Three rubies were embedded in the gold band. They caught the light and cast flecks of red across her skin. “It is beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Just like you.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “Your worth is far above rubies. I will never let you forget that.” He kissed her once more with brief and poignant passion. “I will see you Sunday.”

  “Sunday,” she repeated on a breath as he strode away.

  She paced to the door and leaned against the frame as she watched him disappear down the path to his house… soon to be their house. They would spend their lives together, him building the settlement and her teaching the next generation.

  She only had a moment to absorb the warmth of the morning sun and the sweetness of being engaged to the man she loved.

  Students began coming down the road from both directions. She checked her silver watch pin. It was time. She reached to a rope that hung beside the stoop and pulled, ringing the bell.

  Mrs. Colburn pushed her baby carriage, walking her children from their home on the south end of the village, and Peggy escorted the Cotter children from the north. As Peggy hurried the children along, Olivia ducked inside the classroom. She put a hand against the wall. “Lord, please let the Colburns arrive first.”

  Little Jane Cotter’s voice sounded from just beyond the yard. “Miss Owens! Miss Owens!”

  Olivia smoothed her dress and stepped back into the doorway. “Hello, Jane. Good morning, Conrad. Come in and hang your coats on the rack.” She glanced at Peggy, who stood at the bottom of the steps. “Thank you for bringing them today. I’m sure they can find their own way tomorrow.”

  “I deserve that, I suppose.” Peggy looked down at her hands. “Listen, Olivia, I really am sorry for what I did.” She fidgeted with her lace cuffs. “You worked hard and I tried to ruin it—with the school and with Gabe. I never should have told my mother about your… condition. She hasn’t been right after the voyage, but she’s been trying to change since everything that happened last week. Anyway, I am sorry… for everything.”

  Olivia checked the road. The Colburns were fast approaching. Marian walked behind them with Benjamin, and the Vestal children were coming from the other direction. She wanted this conversation to end. She flicked a glance at Peggy. “It’s fine.”

  Peggy ascended the first step. “No, it is not fine. I miss your friendship. You were my only true friend here, and I let you down. Please, forgive me. I want us to go back to how we used to be.”

  Olivia stopped watching the others and studied Peggy. Her long face and sad eyes bespoke sincerity.

  Olivia wanted the whole ordeal behind her. She waved a hand, dismissively. “Everyone makes mistakes. You probably got jealous or were overwhelmed by your mother’s behavior or were bored—”

  Peggy took another step up. “Don’t excuse my behavior. That is not forgiving anything. I treated you badly. I’m not asking you to justify it, but to forgive me.”

  Olivia drew her head back. It had been so long since she had heard Peggy say anything wise that she’d forgotten she was capable of it. “Then I won’t try to figure out why you behaved the way you did. I’ll simply forgive you.”

  “And give me another chance?”

  “Of course.” She reached out and squeezed Peggy’s gloved hand.

  Peggy’s gaze landed on the gold and ruby ring. She sucked in a breath and released a happy squeal. “Oh, Olivia! It’s beautiful!”

  “He asked me this morning.”

  “When will you be married?

  “Sunday after church,” she answered as the Colburns arrived. She gave Peggy a quick hug. “You will be there, won’t you?”

  Peggy nodded. “Of course.”

  After Olivia welcomed the Colburn children, Marian arrived with Benjamin. She cradled baby Frederick with one arm and held a rolled up paper in the other hand. “Help me open this, Ben,” she said as she handed the paper to her brother.

  Benjamin flipped his shaggy hair off his forehead and unrolled the paper, revealing a world map.

  Marian explained, “It’s for your classroom wall from Jonah. He said it is not to remind everyone of where we cannot go, but how far God has brought us.”

  “It’s perfect,” Olivia said as Benjamin rolled it back up. “Thank you. Please give Jonah my thanks as well.”

  Marian switched the baby to the other arm. “You deserve to have it after the way you’ve inspired the village. Speaking of which, Ben has something to ask you.”

  Olivia gave Benjamin her attention. “What is it?”

  He handed her the rolled up map then brushed his fingertips together. “I heard about the trouble you have seeing words sometimes, and maybe when that happens, I could read for you.”

  “Are you saying you would like to attend school?”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. “If it’s all right with you.”

  “Of course. I would love to have you in class.”

  “When I heard you might need help sometimes, I thought maybe I could try… for a while… until later in the spring anyway because then I’ll have more chores.”

  Marian smiled at Olivia. “What do you think?”

  “That sounds wonderful!” Happy tears welled up in the corners of Olivia’s eyes. She blinked them back. “And again, we’re all very sorry you were blamed for the fire at the chapel. Mrs. Cotter admitted to the reverend that she started it, hoping to stop school.”

  Benjamin cr
ossed his arms, pressed his lips together, and nodded in the way the older men did when they were solemnly pleased. “I’m glad you didn’t let her stop you from teaching, Miss Owens.”

  “Thank you, Benjamin.” She pointed Benjamin into the classroom. After he went inside, she turned back to Marian. “He has come a long way.”

  “We all have.”

  “Including me.” Olivia held up her hand to show the ring.

  Marian beamed. “It looks beautiful on you.”

  “You knew?”

  “Of course,” Marian shrugged. “Gabe is my husband’s closest friend. I know about everything.” She winked after she dragged out the word.

  Olivia mocked a groan and they laughed together.

  More families arrived, bringing children to the schoolhouse on the sandy lot. Doctor Ashton came with Sarah and James, Mrs. Roberts brought two of her daughters, and Hannah Vestal carried a lunch pail as she escorted Doris and Wade. Everyone wanted a look inside the new classroom before they left the students for the day. Olivia proudly welcomed them in.

  Lastly, her mother arrived with Alice, Almeda, Martha, and Richie. She wished her father would have come too, but only because she wanted to show him what she’d accomplished.

  Mary nudged Richie as he climbed the steps. “Behave yourself, young man.” She gave Olivia a look. “Richie knows he is here on probation. He’s still upset with himself for cutting your braid. Your father said if he doesn’t behave, you are to correct him forcefully on the spot or send him home.”

  Olivia nodded, hoping that wouldn’t be necessary on their first day in the schoolhouse.

  Mary whispered. “Do you need me to stay?”

  “No, I am ready for this. All three of my monitors are here, and even Benjamin Foster has offered to read for me when I can’t see the words.”

  “Benjamin? That’s wonderful. I hope all of your monitors are as helpful to you as you were to me. I’m proud of you, and your father is too.” Mary smiled and patted her hand then she looked at the ring. “Oh good, Gabe came to see you.”

  “You knew about his plans too?”

  “I have known since he asked your father’s blessing during the autumn. Pretty ring. Your father never gave me a ring, but Gabe is quite the romantic, isn’t he?”

  Olivia looked at the rubies as they sparkled in the light. “There is more to Gabriel McIntosh than I ever imagined.”

  As the children settled into their seats, Olivia walked back to the doorway and took one last look outside. From the chapel to the cabins and the road that led to the homes beyond the little village, this settlement was home. As peace settled in her heart, she gazed up at the clear blue sky. “Thank you, Lord, for entrusting me with these children. Let my words speak Your wisdom and may Your strength sustain me.”

  ###

  The Uncharted Beginnings story continues in All Things Beautiful (Uncharted Beginnings, #3). Tap here to download it on Kindle. Continue reading for a sample chapter.

  Bonus Chapter One of All Things Beautiful

  The settlement of Good Springs

  Late spring, 1868

  Hannah Vestal scribbled a story idea on a quartered piece of gray leaf paper. She slipped it back into her apron pocket before anyone could notice. The morning sunlight had yet to peek between the kitchen curtains, and already four of her five hungry siblings were hovering around the table. As she flipped the johnnycakes, the kettle whistled. She poured the steaming water into a copper teapot.

  What would Prince Aric think if the maiden Adeline’s days began in such a tizzy of feeding family members and packing school lunches?

  Hannah checked the underside of the johnnycakes. The batter sizzled on the iron skillet, filling the kitchen with a sweet aroma that reminded her of her mother. While the johnnycakes cooked, she squeezed between the girls to carry the butter dish and the apple jam to the table.

  Prince Aric might consider it noble if Adeline had set aside her dreams to help her father raise her younger siblings.

  The edges of the cakes turned golden brown. Hannah gripped the skillet’s handle with a folded tea towel and dropped the stove cover back into place. Metal clanked sharply against metal, ringing through the farmhouse kitchen, but no one noticed.

  Then again, maybe the prince wouldn’t appreciate common work no matter the maiden’s motivation.

  It was a good thing Hannah wasn’t writing herself into Adeline’s character. The story had changed many times since she’d started writing it during her mother’s illness, but over the years since, she’d been careful not to give Adeline her own circumstances. The prince wouldn’t be interested in a grown woman who entertained herself by dreaming up stories. What man would?

  Hannah passed a milk pitcher to her thirteen-year-old sister. Doris was mid-sentence but didn’t miss a syllable as she accepted the pitcher and twirled to the table. “And then Roseanna said that Sarah doesn’t like Benjamin anymore since Anthony wrote her a love letter with a poem.” Doris held still long enough to hum a wistful sigh. “I hope someday a boy writes me a poem.”

  Hannah checked a bowl of boiled eggs, which were cooling on an open shelf. “I wish you would stop worrying about boys and focus on your schoolwork.”

  Breakfast was ready. Looking out the back window, Hannah scanned the property for the rest of her family. Her father and brother were walking toward the house from the orchard. “Here they come.”

  “Good. I’m starving.” Doris rolled one of her two braids between her fingertips. “Hannah, have you seen my pink ribbons anywhere?”

  “They are in your second drawer.”

  Doris snapped her fingers. “I’ll be right back.”

  “No, wait until after we eat.” Hannah poured several cups of fresh milk while the seven-year-old twins set the table. The girls’ bouncy blond ringlets reminded Hannah of the hair color she’d given Adeline in her story. Surrounded by light-haired girls, it was no wonder she’d written her heroine with the same appearance. But perhaps auburn would suit her character better.

  Doris pouted. “But Sarah said we should both wear our pink ribbons today.”

  One twin bumped the table and milk sloshed out of a cup. Hannah yanked a tea towel from the dish rack and wiped the spill. She glanced at Doris. “It’s best to focus on one task at a time. The ribbons can wait.”

  One of the little girls reached for a boiled egg, but the other protested. “Hannah, she is taking an egg.”

  Doris swatted the air. “Don’t touch the food until after Father says grace.”

  Hannah gave the girls a motherly glower then forked the johnnycakes onto a platter. “Doris is right,” she said to one twin. Then she looked at the other. “And don’t snitch on your sister.”

  “I’m sorry,” the twins said in unison. Missing baby teeth added a slur to their apology. Both girls needed their hair combed before school.

  The younger of Hannah’s two brothers trudged past the stove. She passed the platter to him. “Set this on the table. And don’t forget your History report today. Olivia won’t let you graduate if you don’t turn in your assignments on time.”

  He groaned. “I know, I know.”

  “If you know I’m right, then don’t grumble.” Hannah dabbed her sweaty forehead and moved away from the cook stove. “Doris, did you wash the lunch pails when you got home yesterday?”

  “Washed and dried.” Doris reached for the pails, which were on the top shelf beside the cook stove. “Did I tell you Olivia will help me make the decorations for the spring dance?”

  “You did. And please call her Mrs. McIntosh.”

  “But you call her Olivia.”

  “Because she is my friend. You must call her Mrs. McIntosh because she is your teacher.”

  Doris wrinkled her petite nose, bringing out her lingering childishness. “That’s the trouble with being thirteen. I’m half grown up and half kid.”

  Hannah recalled her teen years. Doris was right about being at an awkward age, but every age had some aw
kwardness to it. When Hannah had first started writing Adeline and Prince Aric’s story, she’d been young and awkward and had written Adeline’s character to be the same way. Now, she tried to fold what she’d learned in life into Adeline.

  Had she succeeded in maturing her character? She would ask Olivia’s opinion on the subject the next time she took pages to her for critique. Those rare afternoons of talking with Olivia about the story were Hannah’s only escape from the responsibilities of managing a home. It had been too long since their last visit, but she hadn’t written anything new in weeks. She reached into her apron pocket for her notepaper.

  Christopher Vestal opened the back door and pulled off his muddy boots. “It will be a great day!”

  Hannah smiled at her father as she plucked her pencil from behind her ear. “Plenty of bees in the orchard this morning?”

  “The blossoms are humming with the music of spring.” He hung his field smock on a peg by the door and climbed the two steps from the mudroom into the kitchen. “Where are my morning kisses?”

  The twins scurried to him, giggling. He scooped them up, one in each arm. Their legs dangled as they gave him loud kisses on his clean-shaven cheek. When he’d set the girls down, Doris wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as if she were still little. He kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, Kitten.”

  Hannah studied Doris for a moment. With a long neck and cinched waist, Doris looked more like a young woman than a little girl. How had her little sister grown up so quickly?

  Christopher’s heels thumped the wooden floor as he walked to his seat at the head of the table. He gave her youngest brother’s shoulder a squeeze as he passed. “Did you finish that English paper?”

  “History paper,” the young man corrected without making eye contact. He scowled at his milk cup.

  David ascended the mudroom steps with his dog behind him. He washed his hands in the basin then shoved past Hannah like he owned the place. As the eldest son, this farm would one day be his, but that day was a long time coming. The dog scampered around him, trying to get to the table.