“Are you ready, boys?” Emmy stood from her desk at the front of the schoolroom and addressed Levi and Zeb, who sat on the front row looking through a picture atlas Emmy kept at the school. She had already dismissed all the other children earlier and prepared her things for the next day.
Zeb was the first to stand, his wide smile revealing a missing tooth that he had lost the day Ben had left. “Can we take the book home with us?”
“May we take the book home?” Emmy corrected, and then said, “No, you may not. I need that book for a lesson I’m teaching tomorrow.”
Levi sighed and closed the book. He stood and handed it to her. “I like books, Miss Emmy.”
“Good.” She smiled at the little boy. “Books make leaders out of men. The more books you read, the more you’ll know.” She set the book on the edge of her desk.
“Is Mr. Ben coming back today?” Zeb asked with a lisp.
The mention of Ben brought back the memories of the embrace they’d shared in the barn, and then in the kitchen just yesterday. Something had overcome her when he was about to leave, and she had thrown herself into his arms. Heat had filled her cheeks and she was thankful for the dark room, or he might have seen the effect he had on her. Shame and fear had prevented her from going back to sleep, and she had lain awake long after he’d left, worried that if she didn’t leave his home soon, she would not be able to keep from falling in love.
“Miss Emmy?” Zeb tugged on her hand. “There’s a man walking this way.”
Emmy looked toward the window and saw Mr. Samuelson on his way to the school. Anxiety filled her stomach as she watched his approach.
“Sit here,” Emmy said to the boys as she pointed to the front row and reached for the book on her desk. “You may continue to look through the picture book until he leaves.”
She was thankful the boys were still with her. The thought of being alone with Mr. Samuelson made her scalp crawl.
Emmy took a seat at her desk and readjusted the books and papers she had been working with earlier. She had already arranged everything, but she needed to do something with her hands as she waited for the door to open.
A creak at the back of the room made all three of them look up.
Mr. Samuelson removed the hat from his head and walked down the aisle toward her desk with determined steps.
Emmy rose and gave a slight curtsy. “Mr. Samuelson. To what do I owe this visit?”
“I don’t have much time today, Miss Wilkes, but I wanted to let you know I’ve found alternative accommodations for you.”
Her heart sped at hearing the news. It’s what she had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why did she feel grief and sadness at the thought?
“The Janner family lives just north of town on the Belle Prairie road about a mile from here,” he said, his voice all business today. “They have one small room they rent out to boarders and it’s just become available.”
Emmy nodded, as she looked at the boys. She hadn’t told them she was planning to move, and by the look on their faces, they didn’t like the idea one bit.
“How long do I have to decide?” she asked.
“Mrs. Janner likes to keep the room full, so she sent word that you must move in today, or she’ll give it to someone else.”
“Today?” Emmy lifted her eyebrows, her response louder than she intended. “But I have other plans for today.” She and Mrs. Carver had cut the fabric for the angel costumes Levi and Zeb would wear during the pageant and had planned to spend the evening sewing them.
“Mrs. Janner insists you make the move today, or you’ll need to look for a different place to live.” He leaned forward, his lips pursed with purpose. “I would recommend you take this opportunity, Miss Wilkes. There’s no telling when another room will open. Mrs. Janner’s home is clean and respectable—which is more than I can say for several other places I’ve investigated on your behalf.”
Emmy clasped her hands together on her desk as she thought about her options. She had so few, it didn’t take her long to come to a decision. She couldn’t stay with Ben any longer and she didn’t know of another home where she would have space and privacy to study. “I’ll make the necessary plans to move today.”
“Good.” Mr. Samuelson stood and Emmy used the opportunity to glance at the boys.
They were looking at one another the way they had the first day she’d met them, as if their world was crashing down around them and they were all alone. Levi reached for Zeb’s hand.
“I will let Mrs. Janner know you’ll arrive before supper.” Mr. Samuelson put his hat on. “That should give you a couple hours to pack the necessary items you’ll need for a few days and then you can have someone help you move your other things after that. Do you know where the Janner family lives?”
She was familiar with them. They attended church and their two youngest children attended school, though they were the oldest students Emmy taught.
“They’re just a mile north on the road out front,” Mr. Samuelson said. “A white picket fence around their yard. You can’t miss them.”
“I think I know which house you mean.”
“I’ll leave you to your work.” He left without another word and Emmy was both relieved to see him go and anxious that she would have to face the boys now.
“Come,” she said to them. “We need to get you home.”
They rose from their bench, their hands firmly clasped together, and walked to the cloakroom without saying a word. As they put on their coats, Emmy studied their faces, wishing things could be different.
She locked the door behind them and then walked them home through the melting snow.
When they reached the parsonage steps, Emmy couldn’t handle the silence any longer.
“I’m sorry, boys, but this move is for the best.”
“Why?” Levi asked. “Did Mr. Ben make you angry?”
Emmy bent to be eye level with the boys. “No. Mr. Ben is kind and thoughtful. He would never intentionally hurt me.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Levi asked, his eyes wide with fear.
Emmy’s chest tightened with sadness as she pulled him into her arms. “Of course not. We’ve always known that this living arrangement was temporary—I just didn’t realize I would be leaving so soon.”
Levi pulled away and frowned, his anger covering his sadness. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“You’ll still see me every day at school.” Emmy adjusted his cap. “And I’ll come to visit as often as I’m able.”
She straightened and put a smile on her face, even though she’d rather cry. “Chin up, boys. We’ll get through this and be stronger on the other side.”
Emmy pushed open the front door and looked at the dear home. She would miss the smell of Mrs. Carver’s fresh-baked cookies after school, and the sound of the boys’ laughter as they played on the rug. She would miss the greeting Ben gave when he came home for supper in the evenings, and his thoughtful way of making time for her to study.
“Miss Wilkes?” Adam appeared on the street behind her, a smile on his handsome face.
“You go on inside,” Emmy told the boys. “I’ll be just a minute.”
Adam waited for Emmy to close the door and then he took a step toward her. “I heard Reverend Lahaye is out of town for a few days.”
“He is.” Emmy nodded.
The banker took another step toward her. “I was hoping to call this evening, if I may.”
“I’m sorry.” Emmy glanced toward the parsonage where she had a lot of work to do if she was going to make it out to the Janners’ by supper. She would pack a small bag, one that wouldn’t be too cumbersome to carry on the mile-long trek. “I have plans this evening.”
“Oh?” He waited patiently for her to explain.
What did it matter if he knew? Eventually everyone would hear.
“I am moving to the Janner residence this evening. I plan to pack a few things and go as soon as possible.”
He took another eager step forward. “I’d be honored to help. I can hitch up my wagon and take your trunks.”
“I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all.” He grinned. “I’d like to help.”
It would be nice to have all her things with her right away—and it would prevent the awkward situation with Ben when she’d need to return for them later.
She nodded. “I’ll have my things ready in an hour. Will that be convenient for you?”
“I could have my wagon here even sooner.”
“An hour will be just fine. Thank you.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” He waved and walked toward the north, but Emmy didn’t watch him go. She had far too much to do.
She entered the house just as Mrs. Carver left the kitchen, a dish towel in hand. “What’s this about you moving?”
“The boys told you?”
“They said you’re going tonight.”
“In an hour, I’m afraid.”
“Land’s sakes, dearie. When did all this happen and where are you going?”
Emmy didn’t have time to explain everything in great detail, but she did tell her that Mr. Samuelson had been looking for a place and one had been found with the Janner family. “I need to move in today or Mrs. Janner will give the room to someone else. Mr. Russell has agreed to take me there in an hour.”
The older woman’s eyebrows rose. “After what happened the night of the last frolic, you’d be seen with Mr. Russell?”
“He’s just being neighborly, and besides, we’ll be in plain sight the whole time. He’s just taking me to the Janners’ place, nothing more.”
Mrs. Carver shook her head, a sigh on her lips. “I don’t like any of this—not a bit.”
“I don’t, either, but it’s for the best. You’ll be leaving soon and if Ben is successful, the boys will go, too. I had to find somewhere to live sooner or later.”
“I just wish it was later.” Mrs. Carver’s voice was filled with sorrow. “I had so looked forward to spending Christmas together. I can’t even make you one last meal.”
“I’ll visit,” Emmy promised, and added on second thought, “If I’m invited.”
“Ack, dearie!” Mrs. Carver pulled Emmy into her thick embrace. “I’ll see that you’re invited back as soon as Mr. Ben is home.”
Emmy swallowed hard as she returned the hug. She hated to think of how Ben would feel when he discovered she had left without warning. He’d been through so much with his father, and she couldn’t imagine what he might face in Owatonna.
Yet—he couldn’t be surprised by the turn of events. They both knew she needed to leave.
It didn’t make it any easier, though.
* * *
It had been two days since Ben had left Little Falls. He and Phillippe had barely spoken, and Ben wanted to keep it that way. No matter what was said, it seemed to come out hurtful.
Clouds hung thick over the expanse of snow-covered prairie and Ben was forced to pull his collar up to protect his neck from the blast of cold air that swept over the hill where he and Phillippe traversed. They had arrived in the small town of Owatonna the night before and started asking for Malachi Trask. No one had ever heard of the man before, and Ben had started to suspect that Reginald had given him faulty information.
That morning, when Ben had left his hotel room and gone down to the dining room for breakfast, he had asked the waitress if she’d ever heard of Malachi. She had looked at him with suspicious eyes and asked where he’d heard that name. When Ben explained, and told her about the boys, the woman had finally shared that Malachi had changed his name and he was living west of town.
Now, as a storm threatened the northwestern sky, Ben and Phillippe rode toward the farm where they believed Malachi lived under the name of Oscar Webb. Why he had changed his name, Ben didn’t know, but he had a few ideas. More than likely he was avoiding the law.
“Is that it?” Phillipe pointed to a sod house tucked between two rolling hills. A rickety corral encircled two scrawny cows, and a sod barn sat nearby. A thick blanket of snow topped the house and barn, and Ben imagined it kept them well-insulated from the frigid winter air. Smoke puffed out of a metal stovepipe sticking through the house roof.
As they drew closer to the home, Ben took in the wax-covered windows and the wood door, with cracks wide enough for critters to get through. Not a tree was in sight—nothing but endless rolling prairie for miles and miles.
They brought their horses to a stop and Ben climbed out of his saddle, watching the house, looking for someone to greet them. Anxiety churned in his gut as he thought about losing Zeb and Levi. The boys had become like family to him and he hated to think of them leaving—yet somehow, he also knew he was doing the right thing.
Phillippe also dismounted and he came to Ben and took the reins. “You go ahead, I’ll stay with the horses.”
Ben nodded and traipsed through the snow to the front door. Footprints crisscrossed the yard around the house, but the wind whipped up the snow, making it hard to tell how fresh they were. He knocked and waited.
A shadow at the window told him someone was inside, though he couldn’t make out the figure. He stood in his warm buffalo robe, but even then, it was still cold.
The door creaked open and a haggard-looking woman glared out at Ben through a slight crack. “What do you want?”
“Is this the home of Malachi Trask or Oscar Webb?”
“Who are you?” Her teeth were crossed in the front and her wiry hair stood out in disarray. Deep wrinkles lined her once pretty face, though he didn’t think she was more than twenty-five or twenty-six. The prairie had a way of doing that to people, aging them before their time, but he sensed there was more to this woman’s plight than the prairie wind. She looked disillusioned.
“My name is Reverend Ben Lahaye,” he answered. “I am here on behalf of Mr. Trask’s twin boys, Levi and Zebulun.”
The lady’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know no Mr. Trask.” A little hand appeared at the door and it creaked open wider to reveal a girl of about three years old standing there in nothing but her underwear. With the door open, Ben could now see the woman held a feverish child of about a year, and she was well along in another pregnancy. The home was disheveled. Clumps of dirt were breaking away from the walls and ceiling, and moth-eaten rugs covered the earthen floor.
Ben wondered what else she didn’t know—and he hated to be the one to tell her. “Is Mr. Webb at home?”
“He hasn’t been here in days,” she said with a scowl. “Went into town drinking, so I don’t ’spect I’ll see him until he’s spent all our money on booze.”
The little girl blinked up at Ben with the same almond-shaped green eyes as Levi, and his heart went out to her. No one deserved to live this way. He had a mind to turn around and head back the way he’d come, protecting Levi and Zeb from the reality of this life, but he didn’t think God had brought him all the way here just to leave now. “Do you know where I might find him?”
She snorted. “Nowhere a preacher-man would want to go.”
“I need to speak to him immediately,” Ben explained. “If you’d be so kind as to tell me, I will take my leave.”
The woman’s eyelids drooped as she looked at Ben with disdain. “Why are you here? If you came to get money for some church or something, you’re wastin’ your time. Oscar ain’t got two pennies to rub together, and if he does, he spends it on drink.”
“I’m not here to get money.” Ben glanced at his father who stood a respectable distance away, his eyes on the rolling prairie. Ben looked back at the lady. “I’m here because I believe the two boys in my home are Mal—Oscar’s children and they need a home. I thought it best to tell their father.”
The baby in her arms fussed and she bounced, her threadbare dress sweeping the dusty floor with each movement. “How do you know them kids is his?” He suspected her look of disinterest veiled a deeper fear. “Was it a prostitute that made the claim?”
Ben shook his head, his fears about Malachi Trask becoming more and more disconcerting with each statement. It wasn’t his place to tell this woman about her husband’s past, was it? Yet, he couldn’t leave her thinking the worst. “The boys were born to his wife, Clara—”
“He has another wife?” Her voice was first surprised and then resigned. “I should have known.”
“She died, three years ago, and her sister took them in. Recently, her sister brought them to me.”
“Three years ago?” She snorted again. “Three years ago I already had this baby with Oscar,” she nodded at the little girl. “He never told me he had a wife and kids someplace else.”
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “Could you please tell me where I might find him?”
“What does it matter?” she asked, more to herself than to Ben. “He’s probably at the saloon in Owatonna. Seems to spend more time there than he does here.”
Ben nodded. “Thank you.”
She started to close the door with no further comment, but Ben held up his hand to stop her. “I have a few things I’d like to leave with you, if I may.”
“What kind of things?” Her eyes were narrowed again.
“Here.” Ben walked to the horse and dug into his saddlebags for the food Mrs. Carver had sent with him. If he grew hungry, he could stop along the way home and find food at a restaurant or hotel. Ben handed her the cookies, bread, fried chicken and other tidbits Mrs. Carver had packed.
The woman stared at his offerings as if he had presented her with a bomb. “I can’t take that.”
“Why not?” he asked. “I have more than enough.”
Big green eyes blinked up at him as the little girl gazed upon the food.
“Take it.” He held it out to her. “For the children, if nothing else.”
She finally took the food and closed the door without another word.
Ben didn’t need a thank-you—just knowing the children would have a bit of food to fill their tummies for a couple of days was all the thanks he needed.
They mounted their horses and headed back toward town. Ben’s prayers started to change from asking God to help him find Malachi, to asking for Malachi to give Ben the right to adopt Zeb and Levi.
Before, Ben had been convinced he wasn’t a good fit for the boys—but then he realized that they were a good fit for him. Yes, he would have a lot of obstacles to overcome if he wanted to keep them, but it would be worth any price he would have to pay. If he could prevent their separation, he would do whatever it would take.
They rode back toward Owatonna, the wind nipping at them the whole way.
Finally, they arrived and located the only saloon in town. It was a two-story building with a wide front porch. The windows upstairs were shuttered tight.
Ben dismounted, but Phillipe remained on his horse.
“Are you coming inside?” Ben asked.
Phillipe looked over the establishment and shook his head. “I gave up drinking twenty-five years ago and I make it a habit not to put myself in a position to be tempted. I’ll wait here.” He paused and studied Ben’s face. “Unless you need me.”
Ben shook his head and walked up the steps to the saloon door. The place was open for business, though there were only three customers inside. The bartender stood behind a long counter, a piece of paper in one hand, a pencil in the other, taking inventory of the bottles behind the bar. Someone sat in the corner of the room at the piano, a lively tune echoing off the ivory keys, the other two men played poker.
“Can I help you?” the bartender asked when he saw Ben.
“I’m looking for Oscar Webb.”
The barkeep nodded toward the corner of the room at the piano player.
“That’s Mr. Webb?”
“The one and only.”
Ben walked across the room, feeling the gazes of the other two men on him.
“Mr. Webb?”
Oscar—Malachi—looked up at Ben, a ready smile in place. “That’s me.”
Ben had anticipated an older-looking man with dingy hair, rotted teeth and threadbare clothes. This man wasn’t anything like Ben had expected. He had a youthful look about him, though the years had caused creases to wrinkle his forehead and the corners of his eyes. Ben supposed he was handsome, and from the quick smile, he suspected the man could easily charm anyone. His gaze was clear and cheerful, with no haze of alcohol lingering.
Malachi stopped playing the piano, a frown of concern marring his brow. “Why the long face, mister? Someone die?”
“Is there somewhere we could talk in private?” Ben asked.
The boys’ father glanced around the bar. “This is as private as it gets. What’s on your mind? You look too serious for a man who just stepped into the bar—or is that why you came? You need to drink away your sorrows?” He chuckled as he watched Ben with curiosity.
If he wanted to talk here, then here is where they would talk. “I have come on behalf of your sons, Levi and Zebulun Trask.”
The good-humored smile fell from his face. “What was that?”
“Your sons.”
“You know where my boys are?”
Ben nodded. “They’ve been with me for a couple months now. Their aunt dropped them off.”
“Bertha. I should have known.” He shook his head. “Did she tell you where to find me?”
“Your father told me where you might be living.”
“My father?” Malachi’s frown deepened. “How do you know my father? More importantly, who are you?”
“I’m Reverend Ben Lahaye. Clara’s sister dropped the boys off at the parsonage on her way through Little Falls. All she told me was the boys’ names. I’ve had to deduce the rest on my own.”
Malachi’s shoulders drooped and his hands hung loose between his knees. A deep melancholy seemed to slip over his head and rest like a heavy garment around him. “I’ve wondered where those boys went.” He stared at a spot on the floor, the tenor of his voice changing at an alarming rate. “I suppose you’ve heard all about me.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Ben wouldn’t sugarcoat what he’d heard.
“Why are you here?” Malachi looked up at Ben, defeat in his gaze. “Do you want something from me?”
This was the hardest part of his journey. The moment he’d been dreading for months. “I came to see if you’d like your sons back.”
Again, Malachi stared at the floor, lost in his thoughts. “I’m not proud of who I am, Reverend Lahaye.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “I didn’t deserve Clara and when she left me, I didn’t follow her, because I knew she could do better. Instead, I continued to drink and I took up with Katrina.” He looked down at his limp hands. “Something’s broken inside and I don’t know how to fix it, Reverend. Sometimes I’m soaring with the birds, other times, I’m groveling with the pigs.” He was quiet for a long time. “When I heard Clara died, I did right by Katrina and the children and I married her—but that seems to be the only decent thing I’ve done for her.” Desperation filled his gaze. “I want to be a better man, truly, I do. But when the melancholy sets in, I can’t seem to crawl out of it for days. The only thing that relieves the darkness is playing this piano.” He motioned to the instrument. “I come in here and spend my money on liquor, sitting at this wooden box for days until my mood lifts, then I go home to Katrina.”
Ben took a seat across from Malachi. He’d met other men like him before. They swung between a pendulum of intense joy and penetrating sadness. Alcohol seemed to make it worse, but it also seemed to be the only thing that made it better. He’d seen men come out of it, too. Men who had been desperate enough to change their lives. Start over. Cling to Christ. Malachi wasn’t beyond saving.
“Your life is not my business,” Ben said as kindly as he could, “but Zeb and Levi are.”
“Zeb and Levi.” Malachi smiled and looked at Ben. “I knew Clara had twin boys, but I didn’t know what she named them.”
“They’re Biblical names,” Ben said.
“Strong names.” He hung his head again. “I’m sorry you were dragged into my pitiful life. You didn’t ask for any of this, and here you are, trying to make sense of me because you care about those boys.” The smile he gave Ben was genuine, if ashamed. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re like Clara. Good and honest and caring.”
“I just want what’s best for Zeb and Levi.”
“So do I, ironically.”
“I don’t find it ironic.”
Malachi straightened. “I’m ready to make a change, Reverend Lahaye. I know I can do it this time.” He squared his shoulders and looked Ben in the eye. “I’m going to do right by my sons.”
Ben’s chest tightened. “What do you plan to do?”
“I plan to go to Little Falls and get my boys, make a real family once and for all. Might come as a shock to Katrina, but she’s a strong woman. She can take on two more young’uns, and it’ll be good to have more help on the farm.”
Disappointment rammed against Ben and took his breath away. Though he’d done what he thought was best, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just sentenced Levi and Zeb to a life of pain, bitterness and drudgery.