The Sugar Queen Page 8

  Cymbeline crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. Her legs, too short to reach the ground, swung back and forth. A small act of rebellion, I thought. This child was strong-willed and stubborn. I hoped to someday see how she changed the world. Whether for good or evil was still undecided, I thought, smiling to myself.

  Fiona was warm and soft and smelled like a sugar cookie. She snuggled against me with her cheek on my shoulder. “Miss Cooper, is this what mamas do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have laps to sit on.”

  My eyes stung. I tightened my hold on her. “Yes, this is what mamas do.”

  “It’s nice.”

  “I agree.”

  Cymbeline unfolded her arms and jutted out her chin. “I’m not a baby like Fiona. I don’t need a lap.”

  I smiled down at her. “If you ever do, mine is available.”

  She narrowed her eyes, inspecting me as if I were a liar.

  Lord Barnes joined us then, taking the place next to me. “Everything shipshape?” he asked with a pointed glance at Fiona.

  “Yes indeed,” I said. “Fiona just needed a snuggle.”

  “Hi, Papa,” Fiona said.

  “Hello there.” He kissed the top of her head, coming so near I breathed in the scent of him, shaving soap and the outdoors. When he drew back, our eyes caught and held for a moment longer than they should. We were in church. I’d known him for less than twenty-four hours. His friend had been murdered. Yet all I could think of was naming the exact color of his green eyes. Emerson Pass and Lord Barnes were going to lead me straight to hell.

  Pastor Lind’s sermon was blessedly short. Not that I heard most of it, what with the warm child on my lap and her father inches from me smelling delicious and having to give Flynn a stern stare for all his fidgeting. Afterward, we went out to the fresh air, and Lord Barnes introduced me to the Johnsons, who owned the dry goods store. Anna and Sven Johnson had two daughters who would be my students, named Martha and Elsa. Anna Johnson was tall with golden hair and a wide smile. She shook my hand with a firm grip. “We’re grateful you’ve come to the wilderness. You let me know if you need anything at all. I’ve been here amongst all these men for too long.” I suspected she could do a man’s work on the farm or field and not break a sweat.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “Five years or so,” she said. “We came from Minnesota. My girls went to school there. Since then, I’ve done my best to teach them myself. They’re both keen to learn, and Martha would like to be a teacher someday.”

  Sven had jet-black hair and broad shoulders. He spoke with a Swedish accent and was too shy to meet my eyes.

  I was introduced to Pastor Lind and his wife, Pamela, next. Slightly plump and pink-cheeked, Pamela glowed from within.

  “Oh, dear me, you’re a pretty one,” Pamela said. “No wonder Lord Barnes has you staying at the house.”

  “Thank you,” I said, with a self-conscious giggle.

  “Come inside for a moment so we can talk.” Pamela took my arm and we strolled back into the church. “Simon told me about poor Mr. Cole. I hope you won’t be too concerned. This isn’t typical.”

  “It’s a terrible thing,” I said. “Did he tell you about the gunshots that spooked the horses?”

  “He did. How’s your head?”

  “Much better,” I said. “Other than my embarrassment at causing so much trouble, I’m fully recovered.”

  Pamela led me over to a pew, where we sat. “I can’t believe this has happened. We have fights in town from the men who drink too much, but nothing like this.”

  “Was he a very good friend to Lord Barnes?”

  “Samuel was the type who kept to himself, but if he had a friend, it was Alexander.” She fiddled with the brooch at her neck. “He was very loyal to Samuel, even when things were heated here in town over Rachel.”

  “What about Rachel?”

  “Oh, you haven’t met her?”

  I shook my head.

  “She’s brown-skinned,” Pamela said. “And you know how people can make such a fuss.”

  This truth smacked into me hard. Samuel had been married to a black woman. Making a fuss was certainly one way to put it. Mixed marriages were illegal back east. I’d assumed they were here as well. “Were they married?”

  “Not legally,” she said. “But they lived as if they were.”

  “Do you think someone would kill him because of that?”

  “I hate to think so, but maybe. The situation was tolerated because folks were afraid of Samuel. He was a bit of a legend around here.”

  My thoughts tripped over themselves as I processed this information. Had Samuel been killed because of his wife? If so, what about her and the children? This town was full of white men. Lord Barnes had indicated many were rough and uncouth. Back home, there were so many prejudices against Jews, Catholics, and anyone with dark skin, even though the North had fought for slaves to be free.

  “I’m sorry this happened just as you’ve come,” Pamela said, interrupting my contemplations. “Lord Barnes has been talking about your arrival for weeks now. Our expectations are quite high that you’ll elevate our community. However, you’re not what we expected. We had you pictured as a little old lady like me.”

  I flushed, guilty. “That’s my fault. I didn’t mention my age because I was afraid he would think me too young for such a big responsibility.”

  She patted my hand. “You’ll be fine.”

  Somehow her words didn’t match the worry in her eyes. Was there something more?

  “Did Lord Barnes tell you about night school?” I asked.

  “He did.”

  Again I couldn’t decipher from her tone if this was a worry to her. “Do you think anyone will come?”

  “I’m not certain.” Her gaze darted to the cross. “Please, Quinn, be careful. There’s darkness in our pretty town. Be diligent.”

  My stomach fluttered with nerves. “I’ll do my best.”

  “And you come by and see me any time, all right? I always have the kettle on and a jar of cookies.”

  “Two of my favorite things,” I said.

  A few minutes later, Lord Barnes and I walked from the church lot over to the schoolhouse. Someone had shoveled a walkway between the two, as well as the school’s porch. Lord Barnes fetched a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked the doors, then stood aside for me to enter before him. My breath caught at the sight of the twenty wooden desks arranged in four rows. A shiny blackboard covered most of the front wall. The teacher’s desk was plain but sturdy with a hardbacked chair. In one corner, a potbellied stove would warm the room.

  I wandered around the room, practically dancing with excitement. “Lord Barnes, it’s a dream come true. My very own classroom.”

  “I’m pleased you’re pleased.” He smiled as he looked around the room. “Harley will come early in the morning and get the fire going so it’ll be warm by the time you arrive.”

  “I’m grateful.” I knew most rural teachers had to do that themselves. I’d assumed it would be my duty.

  I took a quick assessment of supplies. A stack of slates and textbooks were stored on a shelf next to the desk.

  “The children will have to share books,” Lord Barnes said from behind me.

  I turned to him. “I’ll make do.”

  Lord Barnes pointed toward a coatrack. “For tomorrow, the students can hang their coats and scarves there when they come in unless it’s too cold for the stove to keep up. If the temperatures drop, I’d ask you to grant permission for them to wear their outer layers.”

  I nodded. This seemed reasonable. “Do I have a roster of children?” I asked as I walked over to the desk.

  “No, you’ll have to collect their names and ages as they arrive.”

  “I cannot wait to meet them.” Tomorrow would be a day for assessing abilities and combining them into learning groups. I had a feeling there would be an eclectic mix of ages and abiliti
es.

  He met my gaze before walking over to the set of windows that looked out to the schoolyard. “I’m afraid your time here is going to test your very soul, as it has mine.”

  I came to stand beside him. His sadness seemed to emanate from his body. I absorbed it as I might a scent. This man and his family should mean nothing to me, but they lived inside me already.

  Lord Barnes put his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Opening a school has been a dream of mine for a long time. Now, however, I wonder if it cost Samuel his life?”

  “Why would you say such a thing?” I asked.

  “Because I made it clear in town that the Cole children would be attending right along with all of the others.”

  “I see.” Somehow, this had not occurred to me when Pamela Lind and I were speaking. Had Lord Barnes’s stance on this been the reason for Samuel’s murder? And if so, what did that mean for Rachel and her children? What did that mean for me? “How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “Frankly, it didn’t occur to me.”

  I sorted through what this meant as we stood there looking out the window. The Barnes children were building snowmen. These frozen men stood in a row, like guards of the school. Was it a premonition of what was to come?

  I couldn’t turn away any child, regardless of the color of their skin. Not from my classroom. If I’d been born a different color, I’d still be the same inside. People who didn’t understand that baffled me. Growing up poor with uneducated parents had marked me. I knew what it was to be set aside, thrown away, as if my life didn’t matter because I was poor.

  “You won’t turn them away, will you?” he asked.

  My eyes stung as I turned to face him. “I can hardly call myself a teacher if I’m unwilling to teach anyone who wants to learn.”

  “Because you know how it feels to be kept out.”

  I stared at him, probably looking like a hooked fish with my mouth hanging open and my eyes wild. “How did you know I was thinking just that?”

  “Your expressions betray your thoughts,” he said. “This face of yours is like reading a book.”

  “I won’t take up poker, then,” I said.

  He gave me a sad smile. “Do you know what I thought when I first came to America?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I thought here the circumstances of your birth don’t matter—everyone had the opportunity to make the life they wanted for themselves. Except it’s not true, is it? If you’re poor or the wrong skin color, there are no opportunities.”

  “America’s a contradiction of ideals and actual practices,” I said.

  His face twisted with emotion as he took in a ragged breath. “I underestimated people’s hatred. I’m afraid I’ve gotten my friend killed over my ideals.”

  “Then we mustn’t let them win by succumbing to their will.”

  He swept his finger across the windowsill. “Miss Cooper, you’re either brave or foolish.”

  “My father always said God had no use for a coward,” I said.

  A low chuckle came from his chest as he wiped the corners of his eyes. “Harley and I will keep watch during the day.” He gestured toward the main street of town and accidentally brushed my shoulder. “I work in an office just over there.”

  Even through my coat and dress, my skin tingled from his touch. I had to stay focused on what was important. A man was dead, mostly likely because of bigotry, and here I was wondering what Lord Barnes’s mouth would feel like on mine. I’d only ever been kissed once, nothing more than a chaste brush of lips that had left me unmoved. I strongly suspected I would like Lord Barnes’s kiss. He was my employer, I reminded myself. A man of money and prestige. I was a poor schoolteacher, at the mercy of his kindness. I must remember this and not let my romantic mind wander.

  The children had finished their snowmen and were now giving them faces with pieces of bark and fir branches.

  “When I think about Samuel’s children, I feel like I can’t breathe.” Lord Barnes choked on the last part of the sentence and stopped to gather himself. “I promised Samuel I’d make sure they were all right, and I intend to do so.”

  Involuntarily, I brushed the sleeve of his jacket with the tips of my fingers. “Is it hard to carry the weight of the world, Lord Barnes?”

  He tilted his head to look at me. “Yes. But as you say, God has no use for a coward.”

  I wanted to say, Let me carry the burden with you. Instead, I smiled up at him, hoping to convey more courage than I truly possessed. “We’re stronger together. Let them bring their hatred. We’ll fight it with love.”

  He nodded as if he agreed, but I could see by the sadness in his eyes that he did not believe. I would have to believe for both of us.

  Chapter 10

  Alexander

  * * *

  When we returned from town, I saddled up Twist and headed out to the Coles’ place. The sun glistened on the newly fallen snow as I crossed the meadow toward the thicket of trees that hid his house. Our valley dwelled between the sister mountains, making the ideal spot for a town. There was no better view of the white-shawled mountains than the one from my own meadow. When I reached the end of the flat land, the terrain dipped into a creek bed. Samuel had built a covered bridge over the high, wide creek that divided our properties. Twist trotted right in and through to the other side. About a hundred feet from the bridge, a deep pool provided both a swimming and a fishing spot.

  From the time I’d moved here, Samuel and I had come to the creek to talk through troubles or share gardening advice or just be quiet while we fished. He was the better gardener and fisherman and knew this land like the back of his hand. I’d learned much from him.

  The first time we’d met, he’d looked me up and down and shaken his head ruefully. “You won’t last a winter.”

  “Watch me,” I’d said. By spring, I’d earned his respect and his friendship.

  Fighting the weight of my grief, I nudged Twist to continue into the trees. The dense forest made this section of the property dark even in the afternoon sun. In the summer, the shade from the trees served as a respite from the heat. This time of year, under the branches laden with heavy snow, the temperature seemed to drop. Despite my gloves, the tips of my fingers were numb. Twist shook his mane and neighed when we came out of the trees. He knew where we were and that an apple was probably waiting for him in the barn. Samuel had loved his horses and mine.

  The house that Samuel’s father had built from logs and river rock sat on a flat section of land. A covered porch ran the length of the front of the house. Puffs of smoke rose from the chimney.

  I put Twist in the barn with the Coles’ horses, Lucy and Bell. They whinnied to Twist as if he were a long-lost friend. Samuel kept a bucket of bruised and fallen apples from his orchard in the shelf near the stalls. Had anyone thought to give one to the horses since yesterday? God, I thought, who is going to take care of these animals and the rest?

  His place had been a source of pride with Samuel. No one worked his land but him. Things had changed in the second that bullet entered his chest. His desire for complete independence could not be continued without him. We would have to hire a man. Maybe two. Samuel had done the work of at least that many.

  I gave Twist and Bell apples and nuzzled their noses. When I offered one to Lucy, she ducked her head and made a mournful noise. Did she know Samuel was gone? Or was she asking where he was?

  I took off my hat and leaned against her strong neck as a wave of grief nearly knocked me to my knees. We stood like that, the magnificent horse and me, as tears from my eyes bled into her mane. She whinnied again and in that high-pitched cry, I heard a message as if she’d spoken words to me. He needs you to take care of his family.

  “I’ll do my best, old girl.” I gave her one last stroke and let go. “Thanks for the talk.” I put on my hat and walked outside.

  The world seemed too still. I had the eerie sensation of isolation, as if I were the last man left in the world. I walked past the woodshed wh
ere Samuel’s blood stained the snow. Averting my eyes, the images from the night before played through my mind. Samuel with a hole where his chest used to be. Rachel keening over his body. Harley arriving with a coffin he’d made in an hour attached to our sleigh. Jasper leaning against the shovel, panting from the exertion of digging a grave in cold dirt.

  Rachel had refused to leave Samuel. While we dug through the snow and then the frozen ground, she’d sat beside him in that cold, dark night. It took us hours to make a shallow grave. We’d lifted Samuel from where he’d fallen and placed him inside wrapped in a quilt his mother had sewn from scraps of his baby clothes. “He’ll want it for the journey to his mama,” Rachel had said.

  I fought against the awful ache in my gut. The living needed me. I had to get on with things. I knocked on the front door and waited. Susan opened it a minute later. Small and quick, Susan had kept the Coles’ house since it was built. At sixty, she’d lost a few inches of height, and gray had replaced the brown in her hair. Still, she moved around like a young woman. Today, her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Barnes. Come in.” Susan twisted her hands around and around. “She’s in his study. She won’t eat or sleep.”

  “Did she tell the children?”

  Susan nodded and dabbed at her eyes with a hankie. “Terrible thing. They all just sat there lined up on the bench and didn’t make a peep. I’m not sure they understand.”

  A memory came to me of Josephine at the bottom of the stairs when I’d brought Ida’s body in from the snow. She hadn’t moved a muscle, her expression stoic. “She’s dead then?” Josephine had asked.

  I’d nodded and stood there, helpless with my wife’s body in my arms until Jasper came inside carrying Theo.

  Theo. My little boy who had found his mother frozen to death ten feet from the house.

  The living. Take care of the living.

  “Can I see her?” I asked Susan.

  “She’s expecting you.” Susan lowered her voice.