Chapter 26
“Why, it is a good thing, indeed, to see you up and about.” Gertie strode across the floorboards inside the mercantile like a battleship heading out to war. She didn’t look in either direction, targeting Violet and not slowing until she reached her side. “Let me get a good look at you. Why, you’re a slip of a woman, aren’t you? It’s tricky to tell the truth of a person when they’re in their nightclothes, now isn’t it?”
Violet wished the other would keep her voice down. She didn’t need to be at the top of the town gossip chain and if Gertie continued this way there would be no stopping it.
She tried to lead by example, replying in a soft tone and attempting to steer the conversation into more favorable waters. “How nice to see you again—and on such a cold, miserable morning. I hope your errands don’t keep you out in the weather too long.”
“I had to pop in for a few things. You know, with Christmas coming and all, I thought to prepare. I’m signed on to bring my pumpkin bread, made from my granny’s recipe, to the Christmas Eve party. It’s wise to get some molasses before everyone decides they need it. I know this is your first winter here, so you aren’t aware, but we sometimes have shortages. When the wagons can’t get through or the deliveries don’t make it onto the trains, we make do with what we have.”
“I’m from South Carolina. I lived through shortages during the war and we southerners are familiar with making do.”
“Well, that will be in your favor out here in the west, dear. But more to the point, how are you? You look well, if a bit peaked.”
If she had left her assessment at “well” Violet’s feathers wouldn’t be ruffled. But the woman added “peaked”—unnecessarily, in her eyes. It stretched her already taut nerves even tighter.
“I am quite recovered.” She felt Mother’s long-distance poke, a reminder to maintain her manners at all times so she added, “Thank you for helping me when I found myself under the weather.”
“Oh, no problem at all. That’s what we do here in Wylder. We look after each other.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Hearing—that reminds me, were you overly frightened by the roostered-up no-gooders looking to raise a ruckus stampeding through the streets the other morning? Weren’t much before sunrise, you’d have to be dead to not have heard ‘em.”
“I heard them. And, no, I didn’t become too alarmed. I guess things like that, a little bit of noise and such, are part of living out here. I know I’m not in Charleston anymore.”
“You’re a wise one, you are. No, you’re not in the old states now and things are different in these parts.”
Violet had come in for one item and wished she hadn’t bothered. Surely, she could have done well with whatever she had in the pantry. Lin might like some coffee, though. They were going to have a discussion when she got home, and they might need something stronger than tea.
She reached for a tin of Arbuckle’s Coffee and tried to make a graceful exit.
“Yes, well, so very nice to see you again. I’ll look forward to tasting your grandmother’s pumpkin bread at the party.” She shot Gertie a smile and gave a polite nod. Mother would be proud if she could see her now. “I must be on my way. I want to get home before the snow starts up again.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. You don’t need any extra chilling on them bird bones of yours.”
“Good day, Gertie.”
While she kept her smile in place, she fumed inwardly. Why on earth did folks think it essential to add observations on her body, mind, health—or anything else? She had no idea that when she became a schoolteacher, she would be the subject of so many opinions. Had she known, she may have begged Father to allow her to become an undertaker. At least undertakers didn’t have to deal with people shooting their mouths off the way teachers did.
She squeezed her eyes closed for a fast second and sucked in a deep breath. If she let every person in this town get under her skin, she would lose her mind. The sooner she got used to the way things were done in Wylder, the better it would be for her.
Violet headed for the counter so she could pay for the coffee and get out of the store. She needed air, and some peaceful moments, and she surely wouldn’t get them here.
Her haste was, once again, her downfall.
She hurried in the snowstorm on Monday.
Threw convention to the wind and kissed a man she had just met.
Then rushed to bring Lin into her home and perhaps harbored a murderer and jewel thief.
She ran into the sheriff while entertaining less-than-kind notions about someone she didn’t even know.
And now she practically bowled over the one person in town she wanted to avoid, all because she rushed without bothering to watch her step.
“Miss Bloom! Pardon me, but I came close to knocking you off your feet.”
Mister Harvey reached out to help steady her, but she backed away. She would not abide that man’s hands on her ever again.
Her backside collided with a checkerboard set on a barrel at the end of the aisle near the pot-belly stove. The wooden checkers fell to the floor and scattered.
“Oh!” Violet knelt to grab at a red checker that rolled across the floorboards. She snatched it before it disappeared between the stove’s black legs. There were a few more near the fire so she collected them before she stood up. She returned them to the board which had tilted far enough to tip the checkers off but remained in place on the barrel top.
“I believe we got them all.” His hand came close to touching hers when he placed his stack of checkers beside those she gathered. The wooden circles made a slight clacking noise when they hit each other.
She pulled her hand back, put it on her midsection and murmured, “Thank you.”
Violet walked to the counter, determined not to let anything get in her way of leaving. She placed her Arbuckle’s down and reached for her change purse. Mister Wylder wrapped the coffee tin in brown paper and tied it with string from the spool hanging above the counter for that purpose. She handed her money over, thanked the shop owner, and tucked the package beneath one arm.
“Miss Bloom? I hoped to speak with you.”
His words sent her mind into a tangle. If it wouldn’t have caused a flap, she would have ignored the man.
She did not turn around but looked over her shoulder at him. He lingered by the counter. A small pile of goods sat on the wooden counter top while their prices were tallied on a slip of brown paper.
“I am in a hurry.”
“But it’s not personal. It’s about your schoolhouse.” His voice took on a no-nonsense tone that made it clear he meant to have this discussion, whether she wanted it or not. “About a new pupil, that is.”
She considered her options. Gertie most likely eavesdropped, Finn Wylder couldn’t help but hear the discussion while he tallied, and who knew how many others lurked in the aisles behind them. Her reply must be ladylike and not raise any suspicions regarding her true feelings for the man.
Damned social graces.
“That seems to be a matter to discuss at the schoolhouse. Not here.”
“My daughter and I will be at the schoolhouse early Monday morning to discuss her enrollment. I trust you will have time to speak with me then, Miss Bloom.”
Annoyance came through with every word, but she refused to let him intimidate her.
“Any parent who appears in my schoolroom during school hours has my full attention. Good day, Mister Harvey.”
She lifted her chin and headed for the door, mindful of keeping her spine straight. She did not look over her shoulder, but felt his glare burning a hole in the back of her head.
As she passed the notice board near the entrance, her gaze raked across the scraps of paper tacked to it. Locals and businesses advertised items either up for sale or, in some cases, needed. Additionally, it provided a public spot for bounty hunters and law officials to display their notices.
A rectangular poster tacked to the bottom right-hand corner of the board stopped her dead.
Beneath the bold-faced word “WANTED” was an artistic rendering of Sun Lin.
There were smaller words at the bottom of the notice, but Violet didn’t bother to read them. She peeked over her shoulder, saw the others were engaged in business at the counter, and reached for the poster.
The crinkling sound as she tore the paper from its spot and curled it in her fist was hardly discernable. She opened the door with her free hand and stepped outside.
No one could see her gasp for air as she turned toward home.
No one, that is, except the Chinese man who followed her.