Chapter 24

Saturday morning showed Mother Nature’s fickle side. No more calm weather for Wylder. No, Friday’s gift had been a singular event. Now, the wind howled, snow fell, and the gray clouds scudding across the sky appeared ominous.

Violet looked out the parlor window as she rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms. Glancing at the inclement weather gave her a chill.

There were Christmas preparations to finalize and if she didn’t attend to the details now…well, it wouldn’t look good. Letting things slide would give the impression that the upcoming holiday didn’t mean much. If there was anything a new schoolteacher wanted to avoid, giving the wrong idea to anyone about anything topped the list. Teaching demanded walking a fine line—propriety and social niceties could elevate her standing in town. One false move, though, could bring ruin. It had happened to many schoolteachers. She couldn’t let it happen to her.

Lin adamantly refused to accompany her, which struck Violet as odd.

Her attitude reminded her of Beatie’s stubbornness yesterday afternoon about singing.

And that led to her recollecting the meeting with Mister Harvey and his family.

She refused to even think of that man as anything other than “Mister Harvey” now that she discerned his past. She planned to work at not thinking of him at all.

She could be stubborn, too, when she had a mind to be.

Leaving Lin at home studying the McGuffey Reader, Violet set off for town. The snow made walking a tad slippery, so she watched her footing. She did not wish to end up in another snowbank.

Minnie Milligan and her husband lived with their six children. Beatie was the youngest girl, trailed by three brothers who were too young for school.

Minnie somehow found time to assist whenever a need for help arose in Wylder. How she did it, with all those little ones, no one knew.

Now Brenda, the eldest child, answered the door to their home. Near the railroad tracks, in a less-desirable section of town, it showed a bare-wood exterior. But it had a clean porch and from what Violet could see, it looked immaculate inside, as well.

Brenda jiggled a baby on one hip. The fourteen-year-old hoped to go to teacher’s college when she graduated the Wylder School. Violet was helping her figure out ways to finance her schooling—ways that did not include the child doing anything improper.

“Miss Bloom, it’s nice to see you. But should you be out on such a morning? You’ll catch your death, ma’am.”

“It’s good to see you, too. But I’m fine. I need a quick word with your mother if she’s available.”

“Mama’s almost finished with the beds. Want to come in while I get her?”

She declined. Her boots were a mess and that gave her a good excuse for not being intrusive. She didn’t like to peek closely at her pupils’ home lives.

“I’ll wait, thank you.”

She stood on the porch and looked up at the sky. Unless she got her errands done soon, she would be caught in the weather.

Earlier in the season this part of the territory had been hit with a blizzard. Being from South Carolina, Violet had read about blizzards but had never seen one for herself. Now she would rather not witness another for a long time. Nothing about the blizzard had been good, except watching it end.

The door opened behind her, so she turned and smiled. Minnie Milligan must be nearing thirty, and she looked every bit of those years. She was rail thin, and Violet imagined she sacrificed her own health and nutritional needs for those of her children.

Her hands were red and chapped but she put one out to place on Violet’s arm. “Won’t you come inside? You must be chilled, standing out here.”

“No, thank you. I can’t stay. I came by to check on the fare for the Christmas party. Is everything under control? And is there anything you need me to do?”

Missus Milligan had taken charge of the refreshments. That meant she had contacted all the other pupils’ mothers and coordinated what every family would bring to the holiday table.

Some of the families whose children attended the Wylder School were barely scraping by so it concerned Violet that they would be pressed into an obligation they could not meet. She wanted every family in town at the celebration, regardless of economic standing. If there were any who could not contribute, she meant to offer a dish in their stead.

“No, nothing at all.” The other woman waved a hand in the air between them, as if the whole event were completely under control. “Everyone is bringing a dish to put out. Most will be sweets but there will be some heartier stews and potato dishes, as well.”

“Ah…” She wanted to be delicate but needed the truth. “Is every family able to contribute? Comfortably, I mean? I don’t want anyone to take food from their tables to bring on Christmas Eve. I don’t want families hungry on Christmas Day, you understand.”

The other woman nodded, as if she had already considered the same possibilities. “I get what you’re sayin’, ma’am. Everyone who’s bringing something is able to do so. And we have a couple of local folks who contributed to the party, on the side, kind of. I’m planning on using their funds to cover the cost of ingredients for dishes for those who are struggling. And there will be enough left over to make sure those who need it will get a meal for Christmas Day, too.”

The news stunned Violet. Wylder was not a wealthy town. Oh, sure, there were those who had money, but most of the people were hard-working, just-making-it folk.

To think some had made it possible for all to be cared for during this yuletide season nearly brought her to tears.

“Well, that is good to know. Remember that if you need anything at all, please send word to me at school. A note with one of the children will do. And thank you, Missus Milligan.”

“No trouble at all. My pleasure.”

“Well, thank you again.” She tucked her scarf up higher on her chin and went for the edge of the porch, one wooden slat up from the snowy street. Before she stepped off, she turned. Minnie Milligan still stood in the partially open doorway.

“Missus Milligan? May I ask who contributed to the Christmas festivities and paid to feed the, ah, less-fortunate families?”

The woman put her head out the door and lowered her voice. “Doc and Mister Harvey. They’s the two who gave me money for the school and the families, but both asked I don’t let on that they did it. But I don’t suppose they meant to keep it from you, since you’re the schoolteacher. But it was them—Doc and that nice Mister Harvey.”