The following evening was Friday, so Emmy sent the boys home after school and stayed to prepare for the Friday Frolic. They would have a singing party and she had asked one gentleman to bring his fiddle, one to bring his mouth organ and another to bring a fife.
Her stomach growled as she set out some sheet music she had brought from home and stoked the fire in the stove. She could have gone to the parsonage with the boys for supper, but things had become so unsettled between her and Ben, she preferred to keep her distance.
She went to her desk and pulled out the cold potato Mrs. Carver had sent to school with her that morning. It had been hot as she carried it to school, but it had lost all its heat throughout the day. It was intended to be her lunch, but she had planned to stay on through supper, so she had skipped her afternoon meal. Now she brought it to the stove and placed it in the coals at the front to warm it.
As she stood near the stove, waiting for her supper, she yawned. She had tossed and turned the night before, hoping she hadn’t kept Mrs. Carver awake, recalling what had happened between her and Ben. Part of her wanted to be angry at him—but she couldn’t find a reason. In all truth, she was angrier at herself. Ben was a gentleman. If he had feelings for her, he had chosen not to say a word. He respected her wishes and for that, she was grateful. Could she fault him for holding her hands a bit longer than necessary? After all, she had allowed it.
The door creaked open and Emmy’s breath caught. Had Ben come to find out why she had not returned home with the boys? Excitement made her heart pound a bit too hard as she turned to face him.
“May I come in?” Adam poked his head around the cloakroom door. “I know I’m early, but I saw the light was on and thought you might need some help getting ready.”
Emmy’s disappointment was stronger than she would have liked, but she hid it behind a smile. “Come in out of the cold.”
She moved away from the stove and met him at the door. It wasn’t proper to be alone with him, but she couldn’t send him back outside without warming himself first.
He stepped into the schoolhouse, his handsome grin in place. “When will this cold let up? I’ve about had as much as I can handle.”
“And it’s only the last week of November.” She closed the door behind him. “We might have to endure it until March.”
The look of pure horror on his face was enough to make Emmy giggle.
His face smoothed and a smile lifted his lips. “I think I could bear almost anything if I could hear that laughter more often.”
Heat warmed her cheeks at the comment and she tried to ignore the amorous look he gave her.
“I’ll let you warm up, but then I must ask you to leave and come back later.”
He kept his distance as they walked to the stove, and he stood on the opposite side as he stretched his hands out to the heat. His gaze was on her as she gingerly reached into the stove and turned her potato.
“Your supper?” he inquired.
“Yes. I thought it best to stay here and prepare for tonight.”
Adam looked around the schoolhouse. “What’s there to prepare?”
Emmy let her gaze circle the room, but she couldn’t think of anything she needed to do. Abram would bring the sawhorses and planks for the refreshment table when he and Charlotte came, and Mrs. Carver would bring the cookies. Elizabeth Allen had promised to bring a large pot of hot coffee from the Northern Hotel.
“How is the bank?” she asked Adam, trying to avoid answering the question.
He smiled, his gaze filled with a knowing look. “I thought Reverend Lahaye would be here.”
“Oh?” Emmy lifted her eyebrows, but avoided looking at him, lest he discern the hitch in her emotions at the mention of Ben.
“I’m happy he’s not.”
Emmy took a quick breath. “Maybe it’s time for you to be on your way. If one of the board members found you here...” She let the comment trail away, hoping he’d get her meaning and be a gentleman.
“I’ll go,” he said. “But not before I ask you one more time if you’ll allow me to escort you to the Christmas Eve ball.”
She shook her head. “My answer has not changed. I don’t plan to attend.”
He nodded and let out a sigh. “I thought you’d say that.”
Emmy felt it only right to be honest with him. “I appreciate your friendship, Mr. Russell—”
“Adam.”
“Adam.” She smiled. “But you must know that I am committed to my job and I have no intentions to enter into a romantic relationship.” Her cheeks warmed at being so frank, but she couldn’t have him pursuing her any longer. “I appreciate your friendship, but that’s all I will allow.”
He studied her with his green eyes, gentleness softening his features. “Thank you for your honesty.”
She wanted to sigh in relief that he understood, instead, she moved toward the door and he followed. When she stopped to open it, he put out his hand and placed it on her arm.
“I understand you completely,” he said. “But I would still very much like to pursue our friendship.”
“So would I.”
“I’ll be back later, Miss Emmy.” He reached for the doorknob and let himself out of the school.
Emmy closed the door and leaned against it, thankful their conversation had gone so much better than she had feared.
The door started to open again, and Emmy jumped back, her heart sinking into her stomach. Ben?
Mr. Samuelson stood outside the schoolhouse, his eyes narrowed on her even before he said hello.
“Miss Wilkes?”
“Mr. Samuelson.” She swallowed hard. “Won’t you come in?” She stepped aside and allowed him to pass into the school. His five children followed him inside and Emmy didn’t miss the smirks Annabeth and Margareta sent in her direction.
She closed the door and faced him, trying to mask the fear snaking up her legs. Had he seen Adam leave?
Mr. Samuelson looked around the schoolhouse and then back at her. “I see you’re alone.”
“Yes.” She didn’t dare move. “I decided to stay after school to prepare for tonight’s social.”
“I suppose it was easier to be alone with Mr. Russell here, rather than at the parsonage.”
She shook her head, forcing herself to smile. “He saw the light on and thought he’d stop by to help me, but I quickly sent him on his way.”
Mr. Samuelson did not return her smile, and neither did his children—all of whom were students of hers.
“Would you care to warm yourselves by the stove?” she asked. “I could take your wraps if you intend to stay until the frolic begins.”
“I decided to come see for myself what all the fuss is about these frolics, or whatever you call such nonsense. I can see now I made the right decision in coming early.”
“Are people making a fuss about the Friday Frolics?” she tried to make her tone as light and innocent as possible—though why she would feel guilty over Adam’s visit was beyond her. She hadn’t invited him to come.
“Don’t change the subject, Miss Wilkes.”
Emmy closed her mouth.
“You were warned, several times, about entertaining gentlemen callers—here or anywhere else.”
She did not contradict him, knowing it would not go well.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Emmy looked at the children who eyed her with unveiled disdain.
“Must we discuss this in front of my students?” she asked through tight lips.
“I don’t see why not. I use every opportunity to teach my children morality and decency. This will be a good example of the type of wanton behavior my daughters will learn to avoid.”
“Wanton?” Emmy’s mouth fell open, her anger mounting. “Mr. Russell stopped by in a gentlemanly attempt to help. I sent him on his way. There is nothing wanton about my behavior and I resent your accusation.”
The door opened and Mrs. Carver entered with Ben and the boys close behind. Ben carried an empty platter in one hand, and a sack in the other—no doubt full of cookies.
“My lands,” Mrs. Carver said as she stomped her feet. “The wind is liable to freeze a campfire.”
Ben closed the door behind their little group, but paused when he caught sight of Mr. Samuelson. His concerned gaze went to Emmy’s face and she didn’t try to mask her frustration or anger at the superintendent.
“What’s going on?” Ben asked.
Mrs. Carver also glanced at Emmy, but she turned the boys away and brought them to the hooks where she helped them take off their coats and scarves, talking in hushed tones, no doubt to distract them from the adult conversation.
“I caught Miss Wilkes with yet another man.” Mr. Samuelson crossed his arms, a self-righteous look on his face. “Her wanton behavior is grounds for termination.”
“Wanton?” Ben frowned, glancing at the Samuelson children who looked on eagerly. “Isn’t that a harsh accusation?”
The door opened again, and Adam walked into the schoolhouse. “I saw the others started to arrive—” He paused as he took in the heated looks of those assembled.
“Mr. Russell,” Mr. Samuelson said. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
Emmy suppressed a groan, but knew she must not show any signs of impropriety.
“Mr. Russell?” Ben looked at the other man, his frown deepening.
“I saw this man leaving the schoolhouse moments before I arrived,” Mr. Samuelson accused. “He was alone here with Miss Wilkes, for who knows how long.”
“Just a few minutes,” Emmy said.
Ben studied Emmy for a moment, and then he sighed and set the tray and sack of cookies on a nearby bench. He addressed Mr. Samuelson. “Dennis. Your mistrust in Miss Wilkes is unfounded. She has not once acted inappropriately and it is a dishonor to her reputation to make such wild accusations.”
Adam looked from one person to the next, his bewilderment evident. Finally, he looked at Emmy and realization seemed to dawn. “They think...?” He didn’t finish and Emmy couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.
Her cheeks warmed and she wanted to crawl under her desk to get away from the stares Mr. Samuelson and his children sent in her direction.
“The others will soon arrive,” Ben said to Mr. Samuelson. “We will put this behind us and have a good time this evening. Miss Wilkes has put a lot of effort into these social events and we will not wreck it with such nonsense.” His voice was firm as he continued. “I will personally vouch for Miss Wilkes’s reputation, and if you have anything else you’d like to discuss about this situation, you can take it to me.”
There was such finality in his voice, no one said another word.
The door opened once again and the Coopers crossed the threshold with their five children in tow. The cloakroom was filled to capacity.
Emmy forced a smile on her face and greeted the young family as Mrs. Carver and Ben led the Samuelsons into the classroom.
Emmy’s stomach growled again and she recalled her potato, which was surely burned by now, but it was the least of her worries. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be out of a job, and then what would she do? Return to Massachusetts? To what, her parents? Their disappointment in her decision to come west had ruined any chance she might have at reconciling a healthy relationship. The only other thing that would greet her if she returned were her painful memories of losing William too soon.
No. She would lift her chin and pray Mr. Samuelson would listen to Ben.
* * *
The last of the singers departed the schoolhouse and Ben crouched down to bank the fire in the stove as Emmy blew out the lanterns. They had followed the same pattern for the past few Friday Frolics, taking their time getting home.
He wondered what they would possibly find to talk about tonight.
They had not shared more than a few necessary words between them since he had warmed her hands the day before. All throughout the singing, their gazes had met, and each time it felt like Ben had been punched in the gut. He believed her when she said nothing happened with her and Adam, yet he couldn’t stop wondering if there was something going on between them. She hadn’t turned Adam away like she had all the other men who had made their intentions toward her known, so what did that mean? Was she entertaining the possibility of a romantic relationship with the banker?
Ben tried not to let his thoughts go any farther than that. Three years ago, when he had fallen in love with Charlotte, he had watched her pine after Abram, though she hadn’t realized that’s what she was doing at first. The same thing happened two years later with Elizabeth and Jude. Was it the same with Emmy? Was she falling in love with Adam and still in denial?
Ben was a fool to let himself have feelings for another woman who was out of reach.
Emmy moved about the schoolhouse silently, but she stopped before extinguishing the last lantern. “Are you ready?” she asked softly.
Ben closed the door of the stove and it squeaked in protest. “I am.”
She cupped her hand behind the lantern’s chimney and blew out the light.
The schoolhouse became dark and Ben walked up the aisle toward the cloakroom where their coats were waiting.
He reached for her coat and held it out for her.
“Thank you,” she said as she slipped her arms inside and then took a step away from him to button it.
They worked in silence as they put on their scarves, mittens and caps.
Emmy opened the door and stepped out into the starry darkness. Ben followed, surprised to find the temperature had risen since they went inside. His breath still billowed out in a cloud, but the air no longer bit at his skin.
He heard her sigh of wonder as she paused on the top step, her gaze lifted to the sky.
Ben also looked up, his breath hitching at the glorious sight above them.
Millions of stars sparkled overhead, their brilliance giving glory to their Creator. Tiny pinpricks of light, winking at them as if they held a secret they wouldn’t share.
“Why does the sky look so much brighter in the winter when I’m less likely to sit outside and enjoy it?” she mused.
“I suppose it’s one of the great injustices of the ages,” he teased.
She took her key out of her reticule and inserted it into the lock. With a quick twist, she secured the door, and then put the key back into her bag. “Shall we?” she asked as she stepped down the stairs, not waiting for his assistance.
They walked in silence over the icy boardwalks and snow-covered streets.
“I’ve been meaning to show you something,” he said tentatively. “Maybe it will make up for all the blunders I’ve made this week.”
“Ben.” She stopped and looked up at him.
He lifted his hand and shook his head. “Let’s leave it all behind us. I want to take you somewhere special.”
She studied him for a moment and then finally nodded. “All right.”
Stepping off the boardwalk, he offered his arm to her. “It’s this way.”
There were people out this evening, some coming and going from the Northern Hotel, others on their way to the saloon, no doubt. Since the vigilance committee had routed out the desperadoes from town the year before, there had been relative peace in Little Falls. Ben was still cautious, but he wasn’t as concerned about their safety as he would have been a year ago.
“Where are you taking me?” Emmy asked, her hand secure around his arm as they walked west on Broadway.
“It’s a surprise.”
She didn’t ask any more questions as they made their way toward the Mississippi.
Though it was cold, the water still flowed in the center of the river. Ice ran along the edges and would soon cover the expanse completely. The river wasn’t very wide there. If the sound of the rushing water wasn’t so loud, he could probably scream across and be heard on the opposite bank.
Ben directed her to take a left onto Wood Street and they descended a slope. The stars offered enough light for them to see their way as he brought her to the waterfalls that gave the town its name.
Under the stars, the river took on a dreamlike state. The water rushed over the rock outcropping, crashing down in a tumultuous dance, tossing and turning on its journey south.
“It’s beautiful,” she said on a feather-like breath, the roar of the waterfalls almost drowning the sound.
“The Chippewa Indians called this place KaKaBikans, which means ‘the little squarely cutoff rock,’” Ben said, his voice lowered, almost in reverence for this place his ancestors had respected and honored for so many generations. “It is one of only four waterfalls on the Mississippi, and the largest source of power north of St. Anthony Falls near St. Paul.”
A sawmill and gristmill were now crowding the banks of the river, and a log boom and millpond hindered its original beauty, but it was still a sight to behold.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Emmy said to Ben.
Ben looked down at her, loving how the starlight reflected in her eyes. He took a step back, forcing himself to put space between them. “Are you ready to go home?”
She shivered, but shook her head. “Not yet.”
He wanted to put his arm around her, to offer warmth, but he refrained. The cold meant little to him as he stood so close to her. Nothing seemed to bother him when Emmy was near—nothing, but Adam Russell.
The reminder of their earlier trouble returned to Ben.
“I’ll speak to Mr. Samuelson tomorrow,” Ben said. “It’s not right that he is slandering your name.”
Emmy closed her eyes briefly. “It’s unfortunate that he arrived when he did—both times. It’s almost as if he’s watching and waiting to catch me doing something wrong.”
“What was Adam doing there?”
“He stopped by to see if I needed help. I invited him in to warm his hands before sending him on his way.”
“That’s all that happened?”
Emmy turned to face Ben, an injured look on her face. “Do you doubt my integrity, as well?”
“Of course not,” he said quickly. “I just need to make sure I know exactly what occurred when I speak to Dennis.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded in understanding.
The soft breeze played with the curls around her face as she shivered again.
“I should get you back home,” he said begrudgingly. “But, before we go—” He paused, unsure how to tell her what he wanted to say. “I’d like to start over.”
“Start over?” She looked up at him, confusion wedged into her brow.
“The past couple of days have been awkward, and we’d both be lying if we denied it.”
She lowered her gaze. “People don’t speak of such things, Ben.”
“Why not?” He shook his head, not wanting anything between them left unspoken. “Life is too short for pretenses, isn’t that what I told you when you first came to town?” His voice teased. “You agreed with me then.”
Her lips turned up in a charming smile. “I suppose I did agree with you.”
“Does that mean you’re willing to start fresh and put everything behind us?”
She played with her mitted hands, still not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know if we can start over.”
Regret stabbed at his insides. “Why not?”
“I told you that I am devoted to my teaching and nothing else.”
“And?”
She finally looked up at him. “I’ve never told you why.”
“So tell me now.” He put his hand on her arm, hoping he wouldn’t scare her away, but allow her to trust him. “I value your friendship and I want to do everything in my power to help you find happiness.”
Her gaze caressed his face and she offered him a sweet smile.
Another breath of wind blew against them, and she wrapped her arms around her waist.
He took his hand away from her arm, giving her space to tell her story.
“I was engaged five years ago to a man named William Harrison,” she said. “We had known each other for years and our love had grown slowly, but deeply.”
The realization that she had given her heart to another man hurt him in ways it shouldn’t, yet he held no claim on her now, or in the past.
“We had such plans.” She shook her head, a smile on her lips, but tears in her voice. “We were going to go west. First to St. Louis and then on to California. I was teaching to earn money, and he was working even harder at the blacksmith where he was an apprentice. As soon as he was ready to strike out on his own, we would get married. My hope chest was bursting with all the things I would need to start a home.” She paused and looked back at Ben. “We set our wedding date and I had two days left to teach school before we would be married and start west. I was in the middle of an arithmetic lesson when the door banged open and my father stood on the threshold. William had been shoeing a horse and it had kicked him in the head. He was asking for me, so my father had come—but by the time I got to him, he was gone.”
She looked away, nibbling on her lip as a tear slipped from her eye. “I didn’t get to say goodbye, and in one day all my dreams had died.”
Ben wanted to pull her close and offer comfort, but would she let him? He put his arms around her to protect her from the memories that brought her such pain. She shivered in his embrace, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him and he rubbed his hands up and down her back to warm her.
“I fell into a dark hole inside,” she said against his chest. “And it took years for me to climb out. There were days I didn’t think I would survive the devastation, but slowly, with God’s help, I did survive.” She pulled back to look at him, though she didn’t pull away completely. “And I promised myself I would never fall in love again, Ben. It’s a promise I aim to keep because I’m afraid that if I was forced to endure the same kind of pain, I would sink back into that hole and never climb out again.”
They looked at one another for a few heartbeats. “I’m sorry, Emmy.”
She wiped at her cheeks. “I’m sorry, too, Ben. I care about you, very much, but I think it’s time I start looking for another place to live.”
Her words were both surprising and exactly what he had suspected she’d say. “I wish it could be different.”
“So do I.”
Without another word, he led her away from the river, past Abram and Charlotte’s home, and up the old wagon road toward the parsonage where he would soon be alone once again.