The Sugar Queen Read online

  I thanked her and went to the study. Wearing black, Rachel was as straight-backed and elegant as always. The woman with the blood-soaked dress was not visible today.

  “Alexander, you didn’t have to come.”

  “Nonsense.”

  She patted a book on the desk. “He left notes about everything in here, along with his instructions for you and me.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “He left instructions for the children to go to school,” she said. “Can you believe what a fool he is?”

  I sank into the chair opposite the desk. “He told me as much. You don’t agree?”

  “I did not agree. We fought about it the day before he died.”

  “Do you think he suspected trouble?” I asked. “Had someone threatened him?”

  “I’ve no idea.” She placed her hands on the desk as if she needed an object to ground her to the earth. “We had an agreement from the first. I didn’t leave the property. When the kids came, I made the same rule for them. If he hadn’t gotten this stupid idea that they should go to school, we would not be here today.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “If it weren’t that I’m obligated to go through you for what should be rightfully mine, then I’d ask you to leave my house and never come back. I blame you as much as I blame him. You and your righteous indignation.”

  I flinched, as if her rage were a physical blow. “Rachel, I’m sorry. Samuel wanted them at school. No one could have convinced him otherwise.”

  “He was the most stubborn man that ever lived. That quality got him killed.”

  “He was a man of principle. It mattered to him that his children were treated the same as the others. Do you really disagree?”

  “I surely do. My children’s safety is more important than a damn principle.”

  “If we don’t fight for what’s right, who will?”

  She made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “I don’t give a damn. This is my house now. My money. My children. I’ll do as I please.” She stood and smoothed her hands over her skirt. “I’m not sending them to that school to end up the same way as Samuel. People forget what they don’t see. I want them to forget we’re even out here.”

  I could hardly argue with her. What other conclusion could she come to? If it were my children in danger, I would do the same. Protect them within the walls of my home. Anyway, she blamed me for Samuel’s death, and she was probably right to do so. Advice or interference from me was the last thing she wanted.

  “You need to hire someone to take care of the place,” I said.

  “I’m sending for my brother. He’s the only one I trust.” She slid an envelope across the desk. “This is a letter for him. Will you mail it for me?”

  I agreed with a nod of my head.

  “Rachel, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s too late for that. When Wilber arrives, I’ll send him over to meet you. I’m having him take over the running of the estate. I don’t want to have to look at you ever again.”

  “After everything we’ve been through together, you’re dismissing me from your life?”

  She glared at me with cold, angry eyes. “That’s right. Now, please, just go.”

  With my hat in my hands, I walked to the doorway and turned back to her. “Don’t forget to feed the horses.”

  “Goodbye, Alexander.”

  I sat in front of the fire in the library, still reeling from my encounter with Rachel. She’d never been what I would describe as a warm person. Yet she was always polite and accepting of my friendship with Samuel. Occasionally, the children had been allowed to play with my brood, but I could tell it made Rachel nervous.

  A horrible thought came to me then. What if Rachel had killed him over the school argument? Maybe she was that desperate to keep them safe?

  As quickly as it came to me, I dismissed the idea. Rachel loved him. Even if they’d argued bitterly over whether the children should go into town for school, she would never hurt him.

  “Lord Barnes?”

  I looked over to the doorway to see Miss Cooper. She’d changed from her blue dress into a drab brown. Even an ugly dress couldn’t make her look bad.

  “Have you seen Jasper?” she asked.

  “He went into town,” I said. “Do you need something?”

  “No, I wanted to thank him. He found a book in your library that I’d asked him about and left it outside my door. So kind of him.”

  I waved her closer. “Come sit with me. I’m having a drink and nursing my wounds.”

  “Are you all right?” Her gaze swept over me.

  “Yes, these are wounds of the heart from my visit with Rachel.”

  She sat in the chair next to me, then folded her hands in her lap. “How was the poor woman?”

  “Angry.” I proceeded to tell her the entirety of our conversation. “I should have known she’d be furious with me. It was the only time Samuel had ever disagreed with what she wanted for the kids. She sees me as a conspirator.”

  “Will she be all right by herself?”

  “She’s sending for her brother.” I shared with her the details of my arrangement with Samuel about his estate. “As you know, she couldn’t own property without him leaving it all to me. This was Samuel’s way of making sure they were taken care of in case anything happened.”

  “How smart.” She pinched her lips together using her thumb and finger and stared into the fire. This, I’d learned already, was her thinking face. “Do you think she’d consider sending the kids to school if I talked with her?”

  “Not yet. For now, I’m going to leave her alone. Hopefully, at some point, she’ll forgive me, and we can resume our friendship.”

  She cocked her head to the side, watching me. “For your friend to have that much trust in you says a lot about your character.”

  “I’m not perfect, but I’m honest.”

  Footsteps on the stairs from the third floor warned me of the impending pack of my children. I’d waited until now to tell them about Samuel. They hadn’t known him well but were fond of him. I worried it would be upsetting, given their own mother’s death.

  They filed in and sat on the couch. “I have bad news,” I said. “My friend Samuel has died.”

  “Those poor kids,” Josephine said.

  “Did someone kill him?” Flynn asked.

  “Why would you ask that?” I asked.

  “Because he’s married to a brown lady,” Flynn said as he glanced at Josephine.

  “Someone shot him,” I said. “We don’t know who or why.”

  “How will you find out?” Theo asked.

  “I’m not certain,” I said.

  “Can we go now?” Flynn asked. “I want to finish my snow fort.”

  “You may go.”

  Flynn tugged on Theo’s shirt. “Come on.”

  Theo nodded and the two jumped up from the couch as if it were on fire.

  “Can I come?” Cymbeline asked.

  “No. This fort’s only for boys,” Flynn said.

  “That’s not fair,” Cymbeline said. “Papa, make them take me.”

  “Stay here with me,” Josephine said to her sister. “I’ll play checkers with you.”

  Cymbeline, mollified for the time being, stuck her tongue out at her brothers as they left the room. “And you can’t let me win on purpose, Jojo. We have to play for real.”

  “I didn’t let you win last time,” Josephine said. “You beat me.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t fibbing?” Cymbeline said.

  “Of course not, goose.” She patted her sister on the head before she turned to me. “Papa, I’m sorry you lost your friend,”

  “Thank you, dearest one,” I said, drawing her close. “I’m sad, but I have a lot of happy memories of our time together.”

  The little girls rushed over and fought for a place on my lap. I settled each on a knee. “We love you, Papa,” Cymbeline said.

  Fiona snuggled against my chest. “Love my papa.”
/>   I kissed them both on top of their sweet-smelling heads as I darted a glance at Miss Cooper. She was looking into the fire with glassy eyes.

  Chapter 11

  Quinn

  * * *

  On Monday morning, my students appeared bundled in coats, hats, and scarves. They brought the scent of the outdoors and woodsmoke. Most carried their lunch in a bucket or wooden box. I greeted them with a slight smile, too nervous to take in the details of their faces or ages, and gave them specific instructions to hang their coats, put their lunches on the table near the door, and take a seat. “Tallest in the back, please.” I used my formal teacher voice and held my head high, as if I were used to positions of authority. Given my age and slight figure, I knew it was important that I present as mature and strict.

  My legs wobbled as I took my place in front of the room. I wore my teacher uniform, a black skirt paired with a jacket of the same fabric over a crisp white blouse, sewn by my clever sister. She’d sewn a necktie as well, made of a smart black-and-white-checkered fabric, wide enough to cover my throat and chest.

  I did a quick count of pupils. Besides the Barnes children, there were nine others, making a total of thirteen. Wasn’t thirteen an unlucky number? I hid behind my desk for a second and scanned the faces until I found Josephine. She gave me an encouraging smile.

  No one else moved or made a sound. Have courage, I told myself. Lord Barnes is counting on you.

  I took a deep breath and began.

  “We’ll start each day promptly at nine. I’ll expect the older ones to keep the fire stoked and bring in firewood as needed. The younger of you will take turns cleaning the blackboard and erasers. We’ll have two fifteen-minute recesses and one hour for lunch. Those of you who live close enough may walk home for lunch. The rest of you may eat at your desks and then go outside to play if it suits you. You may not speak unless I call your name. If you have a question, you may raise your hand.”

  I stood in front of the chalkboard and looked out at the innocent faces of the children of Emerson Pass. “I expect obedience and respect while you’re here at school. However, there are only three rules that matter most in here and out in the world.” I wrote in big letters on the board: BE CURIOUS. BE KIND. PROTECT ONE ANOTHER. “If you conduct yourselves in this manner, we will be worthy of praise in my classroom. If you deport yourselves this way throughout your life, you will have lived a life worthy of the sacrifices your parents have made to get you to this classroom.” I glanced around the room. “Is this clear?”

  Other than Poppy and Josephine, who nodded, the children stared at me.

  “When I ask a question, I would like you to answer with, ‘Yes, Miss Cooper.’ Shall we try it? One, two, three.”

  “Yes, Miss Cooper.”

  I stifled a smile. Their voices sounded good as a unit. “Does anyone have any questions before we begin?” I asked.

  Poppy raised her hand.

  “Yes, Poppy?”

  “Why do we have to protect one another?”

  “Because we’re a team now,” I said. “Teams are a group of people with a common goal or purpose. Together we are stronger than we are alone.”

  Flynn raised his hand.

  “Flynn?”

  “Why should we be curious? I thought we were supposed to learn boring things.”

  This child was going to give me a permanent sore from having to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing. “Because curiosity leads to questions, which lead to answers, which is what learning is all about.”

  He tilted his head, as if truly contemplating such an idea. Whatever conclusion he came to, he kept that to himself. Thank God for small favors, I thought.

  I continued with the business of the day. “I’ll have you come up one at a time to my desk so that I might learn a little about your former education and reading levels. While you wait your turn, you will sit quietly and read or look at one of the picture books from the shelf. We’re very lucky to have a library, and I’ll expect you to treat the books as you would a precious baby.”

  Cymbeline giggled. Josephine shook her head at her little sister and put her finger against her mouth.

  I moved over to the bookshelf and asked them to form a line. For the older children, I gave them chapter books. The younger ones were given ones with pictures. When all had books, I sent them back to their desks.

  I asked Martha and Elsa Johnson up first. It was obvious they were sisters, given their matching yellow braids and wide blue eyes. Martha was sixteen and Elsa fourteen.

  They could read well, having gone to school in their former town in Minnesota before their parents moved them to Emerson Pass. Second-generation Swedes, they spoke and read English fluently and had a reasonable grasp of arithmetic. Both were tall with good posture and proud, sturdy shoulders. I imagined there wasn’t much they couldn’t accomplish given the opportunity.

  Martha reminded me that her parents owned the dry goods store.

  “Do you like it here?” I asked.

  She nodded, smiling. “I like wherever my family is.”

  “And you?” I asked her sister Elsa.

  “Me too.”

  “The only thing we miss from Minnesota are the town dances,” Martha said.

  “We’d looked forward to dances when we were old enough,” Elsa said. “But here, there are none.”

  I could certainly understand why two young ladies would pine for a dance. “I think if we put our heads together, we might be able to come up with a few ideas for a town dance.”

  “Really?” Martha asked.

  “Give me a little while. If you two study hard and are good girls, I’ll speak with Lord Barnes about having one here at the schoolhouse.”

  Their faces lit up as they nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Miss Cooper. We’ll do our best,” Elsa said.

  I asked the bigger of the two blond boys to come up next. He approached, looking terrified. Pale blue eyes watched me from under a fringe of hair so fair it was almost white.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Isak Olofsson,” he said in a thick Swedish accent. He pointed toward another of the students. “My brother. Can he come now?”

  “Yes.”

  Isak, in Swedish, asked his brother to join us. The younger of the two ambled up to the desk, looking equally frightened. “This is Viktor.” Viktor’s hair was the color of dried straw, a little darker than his older brother’s. Green eyes peered at me from his square face. I could already see the handsome men they would become.

  “We want to learn English,” Isak said. “And to read from English books.”

  Through an awkward exchange, I learned Isak and Viktor were recent immigrants from Sweden. They could not read but seemed to understand English when spoken to and could answer my questions for the most part. It was enough to work with, especially given their obvious keen desire to learn.

  Next up were three sisters, who took it upon themselves to come up as a group. I didn’t chastise them. We learn from watching others, after all. The Cassidy sisters were Nora, age six; Shannon, age eight; and Alma, age ten. The girls shared the same green eyes and fair skin, but Shannon had dark curls whereas the other two had honey-colored hair as straight as a board.

  “Have you been to school before?” I asked.

  Alma spoke for them all in a lilting Irish accent. “I went for one year before we moved to America. Since then, no. But our mother taught us to read.”

  “Not me,” Nora said. “Just my letters.”

  “Letters are a great place to start,” I said.

  The other two read competently from the first reader but struggled with a few words. They knew almost no arithmetic. I had a feeling they would learn quickly.

  The Barnes children filed up one after the other. There wasn’t a surprise among them. They all read way beyond their grade level, even Cymbeline, who knew all the words from the early-reader textbook. Josephine read at an adult level, with Theo and Flynn not far behind.
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  “Are you going to make me read boring stories?” Flynn asked before returning to his desk.

  “What kind of stories do you like?”

  “Ones about wars and bears and catching fish and boy things.”

  “If I find you books like that, will you read more?” I asked.

  He shrugged and wrinkled his freckled nose. “I could, I guess. Why do you want me to?”

  “Because people who read a lot have more to think about.”

  “I do like thinking,” Flynn said. “Mostly about building forts and catching fish.”

  “While you’re doing those things or thinking about them, you can read about them. Won’t that be fun?”

  “When you put it like that, yeah.”

  “Yes, not yeah. Yeah is not a word.”

  “But you knew what I meant, so how is it not a word?” He raised one eyebrow and smirked, so much like his father, I had to cover my mouth to hide my smile.

  “I expect proper grammar from you, young man. Return to your seat, please.”

  “Yes, Miss Cooper,” he said.

  Harley’s sister was next. Poppy shared his same sparkle and pretty eyes as well as dark complexion. Skinny and petite for thirteen, she looked much younger than her age. Soft brown curls were pinned back with a bow.

  “I’ve never been to school before,” she said before I could ask.

  “Have you lived here all your life?” I asked.

  “No, before this Harley and me lived in France.” She leaned close and talked just above a whisper.

  “Harley and I, not me. ‘Harley and I.’ That’s proper grammar.”

  She blinked. “Yes, Miss Cooper. Before this Harley and I lived in France with my dad and mom, but they died so we came to America to see about some gold or silver. But Harley didn’t find any of that because he says the mines are all mined out. He works for Lord Barnes and we moved into a cottage on the property and I keep house. Lord Barnes is very good to us. That’s what Harley says. Now I can go to school instead of making deliveries from the drugstore.” I might not have noticed the little shudder she made had I not been watching her so closely. I saw it sure enough, and I knew what it meant. My heart nearly stopped. I made a mental note to inquire about this drugstore owner and whether or not he always hired little girls to work for him. For a split second, I thought of my sister. I’d left her all alone in the slums where danger lurked around every corner.