Beneath the Heavens Read online

  Michael smiled and straightened in his seat. ”Do I got a ranch, teacher?”

  “You sure do—a beautiful big ranch with lots of cattle and chickens, but these horses are famous throughout the state. And one day, these bad men hear about your horses and decide to steal some.” Abby paused for dramatic effect. The entire class was focused on her now. “And so Michael comes out one morning to feed and water his horses, but instead of twenty horses there are only eight.”

  “The bad men took the other ones?” Daisy asked, looking upset by the news.

  “They did, and so Michael puts on his leather boots, straps on his belt with a big shiny buckle, and rides out to find his horses and take them back.” Abby lifted her eyebrows with a smile. “Now,” she said slowly, glancing briefly at Will who was still staring at her intently, “how many horses is Michael looking for?”

  “You mean how many horses did the bad guys take?” Michael asked.

  “That’s right,” Abby nodded, pleased that she had everyone’s attention. “Now do the problem and the first person who has it right can come write it on the chalkboard.”

  The entire class quickly began scribbling. In a few seconds Henry Thompson, one of the older boys, raised his hand. Abby lifted her eyebrows in surprise; she rarely received participation from the older children.

  “Henry, please come up,” she said, nodding towards the chalkboard. Henry stood up proudly, his twelve-year-old body strutting like a man as he walked up and wrote out the problem.

  “You see, all you got to do is minus eight horses from twenty. So Michael needs to find twelve horses,” he explained clearly.

  Abby thought her buttons would burst from her blouse. She was so proud that she began to applaud. “Well done! Henry that is perfect!” she cried out, although she didn’t know why this meant so much to her. She fancied maybe it was because it made her look smart and capable in front of Will, but truth be told, all she could think about was how Henry would be able to tell his parents that he solved a problem in front of the entire class.

  The rest of the students copied Abby in applauding Henry’s answer. The boy blushed fiercely as he walked back to his desk, smiling all the way. Abby spun around to the class leaning forward, her hands on her hips.

  “Alright, shall we do another problem?” she asked encouragingly. The students shouted their compliance, little Daisy raising her hand.

  “Use me, Teacher, use me,” she begged, nearly falling out of her seat. Abby practically giggled with excitement and pleasure, but caught herself with one swift glance at Will, whose deep auburn hair was falling into his blue eyes. If he wasn’t so disrespectful, she might even think him a handsome man.

  “Alright, Miss Daisy, let’s pretend it is your birthday and you have to make a cake,” Abby began.

  “What kind of cake?” Michael asked. Abby sighed. Michael was a child who wanted to know every detail for everything.

  “Well, it has ten layers with thick cream and strawberries between each one. The frosting is rose petal pink,” Abby described, receiving a gasp from every young girl. She wondered if she could make such a cake. Maybe Esther could help? “And on the top are berries arranged like a heart. It is the most beautiful birthday cake that ever was,” Abby said dramatically.

  Some of the boys chuckled but not rudely.

  Abby continued, “While Daisy is making the batter, she realizes that she needs three cups of flour, but she only has a measuring tin that holds a quarter of a full cup. So how many times does Daisy need to fill up that tin in order to have three cups of flour?”

  Abby had to walk her students through the tricky fraction problem, all the while describing the cake and the make-believe birthday party. After that it was analogies with corn, days of rain, knights fighting dragons, and Indians hunting buffalo. She managed to teach all of her mathematics lesson while keeping the children entertained. After math was history in which she had the children act out the French Revolution. Will even raised his hand like a child to participate. Abby was a bit taken aback at his display of being a victim of the guillotine, as it was rather gruesome how he fell to the ground twitching, but the children seemed to love it.

  Finally, Abby heard the arrival of parents. She was tired, sweaty, and ruffled, but she felt good. The high energy of a full day’s work filled her body and soul with satisfaction. She realized she had been teaching these children like a stuffy professor would lecture college students at Harvard when in fact, these were children who breathed mountain air, worked in the soil, and had calloused hands at a young age. They needed to learn in ways that were useful and entertaining.

  “Alright children, have a good weekend. I will see you on Monday,” Abby announced as she dismissed the class.

  “Hopefully on Sunday,” Will muttered, standing beside her. Abby jumped at his deep voice, and Will chuckled. “Scared you, did I?”

  “No, I just didn’t notice you approach,” Abby stuttered.

  “Ah, didn’t notice me? My, you know how to make a man feel good about himself,” Will teased.

  Abby looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “That is not what I meant.”

  “So you do notice me?” Will grinned.

  Abby laughed wirily. Will was certainly not a gentleman; in fact, she thought he actually liked making her feel uncomfortable. “What do you mean by asking if I notice you when you have not even been around these past few weeks?” she scolded. “Did my novice teaching scare you off?”

  Will quirked an eyebrow. “So you have noticed that I’ve been gone?”

  Abby rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, though I’m sure you didn’t mind being absent from me.”

  “My absence was unfortunately extremely necessary.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

  Abby eyed it appreciatively. She’d never seen hair the color of deep rich cedar wood before.

  “Anyway, there was an explosion in a mining town near Denver. They had no pastor and there were a lot of injuries and some deaths. So I had to spend the last few weeks arranging funerals and such.”

  Abby’s eyebrows tilted. Poor Will! She thought teaching was stressful, or being a Texas Ranger, but Will’s job was a combination of both. He dealt with the sorrow and the rough stuff of life, but where Joseph used a gun, Will had to use words.

  “Oh my goodness, Pastor! I am awfully sorry; it must have been tough dealing with all that. How are you doing now? You holding up alright?”

  Will shot her a puzzled expression. “Am I doing alright?” he asked, surprised by the question. Usually young women, older ones, too, wanted to tell Will their problems and get spiritual advice, which he loved—after all his calling was to bring people closer to their Maker—but he could not remember, save Esther, when the he had been asked how he was doing.

  “I—I am fine,” he answered slowly, still processing the schoolteacher’s question.

  “You sure about that? Because if I dealt with funerals I would be a wreck.”

  Will nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. It is good to be back, though. Oh, speaking of being back, I will still be using the schoolhouse Saturday nights,” he grinned sheepishly, “to practice. I get nervous.”

  Abby bit her lip to keep down a laugh. “You practice… in the schoolhouse? That is adorable.”

  Will narrowed his eyes. “You are welcome to come hear my practices.”

  Abby’s smile wilted a bit. Was he flirting? Teasing? Goodness, she wished she could tell the difference.

  “A pastor who is nervous speaking in front of people and needs to practice still surprises me.” Abby shook her head unbelievingly. “What is more ironic than that?” she teased.

  Will shrugged. “Probably a spoiled Texas girl teaching in a Colorado mountain town,” Will suggested with a smile.

  Abby laughed and held up her hands in defeat. “Alright then, let’s say we are even —and by the way, I am not, nor was I ever, spoiled. I just like to think I was privileged,” Abby held up her head proudly with a small smirk on he
r face. She was rewarded by Will’s rich laughter.

  “Privileged, huh? Well Miss Privileged Abigail, don’t be alarmed when you see someone in the schoolhouse tomorrow evening. It will just be me.” He put his hands in his pockets and lifted his eyebrows at the sound of paper crinkling. “Oh, I almost forgot—Bill Thompson, Henry’s father, gave this to me to hand off to you. He is our new official mailman, although he tends to delegate the passing on of letters.” He handed her an abused-looking envelope that Abby took eagerly. It was from Joseph! A sudden eagerness to read the letter overcame her. It was probably a lighthearted response to her complaints, maybe some good advice even. Joseph always had good advice.

  “Family?” Will asked.

  Abby nodded, stroking the Texas stamp. Was it just her or did the letter smell like cattle and tortillas? Homesickness filled her with threatening tears that she quickly blinked away. “Yes, it is from my family. I do hope they are all well,” she said softly, lowering her eyes so Will wouldn’t see the mist in them.

  Will opened his mouth to say something, but stopped as his gaze flickered to the entrance. At his silence, Abby looked up to see him staring sheepishly at Esther, her lovely figure looking radiant, and her hair hanging loose in romantic waves down her back. Abby almost sighed out loud; she missed looking good with well fitted dresses and pink cheeks. She glanced at Will’s riveted face, and a strange feeling began to sprout in her. She did not like how he looked at Esther, did not like it one bit. Her skin grew hot and she desperately wanted Will to look at her, to pay attention to her.

  My goodness Abigail, she thought to herself. You are indeed very spoiled if you don’t like sharing the attention of a simple pastor boy. Straightening her posture she walked over to Esther.

  /

  Esther saw that Abigail had lost weight, an alarming amount of weight in such a short amount of time. She also saw the dark circles settled under her eyes. Guilt seized Esther; she had been wanting to invite the little teacher for dinner or merely just check up on her. She’d thought herself too busy; busyness was man’s excuse for not serving others. Esther couldn’t imagine Christ looking at one of the lepers and saying that He was too busy to heal him, and yet Esther had found herself too busy to visit an obviously struggling young woman. Hadn’t she herself been young and alone?

  “Abby!” Esther exclaimed as the teacher approached her. “Michael was just telling me how fun your class was today.”

  Abby beamed. “Well, I am glad, although I must say that I don’t know what I would do without Michael. He is always so helpful and happy, not to mention he helped chase out a giant rat today.” Abby patted Michael’s back appreciatively. He grinned and tugged on Esther’s hand.

  “Pastor Will cut off my head today, Mom,” he suddenly announced with the excitement to tell a good story.

  “What?” Esther laughed and looked inquiringly at Abby. Will had now walked over, making Abby shift self-consciously.

  Why was she self-conscious?

  Did she have chalk on her face?

  “Miss Abigail had us act out the French Revolution,” he explained. “I was Robespierre near the end of our demonstration and I’m afraid I enjoyed it a little too much,” Will chuckled. Esther laughed softly, not missing Abby’s keen interest in her and Will’s interaction. She decided to be friendly, but not too friendly, to Will just in case Abby did have a bit of liking toward him.

  “Abby, how are you doing with groceries? Town is not too far for walking, but one still needs a cart to carry groceries and such,” Esther asked not only to truly inquire about Abby, but also to remind the inexperienced pastor that this girl needed some sort of transportation and payment for food. It worked because Will suddenly gasped and ran his hand through his hair.

  “Ach! Miss Abigail, I nearly forgot. I got you some more food—flour, sugar, eggs, and such in my wagon. You get paid next week and maybe with that you can look into getting a horse. The school house already has a cart that I can show you how to hook up.”

  Abby’s lips drifted in a half smile not seeming too excited about the groceries. Esther felt her forehead crinkle with concern. Something was going on with Abigail, either something private or embarrassing since she had not spoken of it. Abby had earned herself the quick reputation of being quite the talker. Parents had to practically run to keep from talking too long. Not that Abby wasn’t enjoyable to talk to—everyone agreed that she was friendly and bright—but by the time mothers picked up their children they were having to hurry back home to start dinner, feed the animals, and attend to all the other chores that needed doing before nightfall. As such, she tended to speak quickly as if desperate for adult company, which is why Abigail suddenly growing quiet struck Esther as odd.

  “Do you need help storing the food Abby?” Esther offered. “Michael and I could help you if—”

  “No!” Abby suddenly said louder than she meant. She immediately bowed her head. “I—I mean no, thank you, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” She turned to Will red-faced and white-knuckled from squeezing her hands together. “If you could just leave them outside my door that would be most helpful.”

  “Are you sure, Miss Abigail? I would be more than pleased to—”

  “No!” Abby interrupted again. “I would prefer if you just left them outside the door.

  Will and Esther shared a quick worried glance before Will nodded curtly and excused himself to “get right to it.” Esther smiled and gently placed her hand on Abby’s arm.

  “How are you doing, Abigail? Truly?” Esther asked, her voice low and compassionate. Abby opened her mouth and tears threatened to roll down her cheeks.

  “Daisy! Billy!” Eliza called out from outside the schoolhouse. Abby quickly dabbed her eyes and plastered on a smile, as Eliza’s petite body scurried up to collect the two children.

  “Their mama isn’t feeling too well again, Esther,” Eliza explained. “I was worried until she said that the smell of eggs makes her vomit,” she laughed with a knowing wink, “and then she stood up—don’t get me wrong, she has done very well hiding it—but Esther, she has got to be at least six months along, possibly more with how natural skinny she is. Her belly was swollen nice and round.”

  Esther’s face lit up in delight. “Really? That’s wonderful! Has Mrs. Gable said anything yet?”

  Eliza shook her head. “No, after the two miscarriages I think she is afraid to even admit to it.”

  Esther saw Abby trying to follow the conversation with confusion. Poor girl had no idea what they were talking about.

  “Mrs. Gable is from Florida. She and her husband moved out here so he could start his own business. He is our blacksmith and doing well, but his wife Sally Gable has suffered two miscarriages since she moved here,” Esther explained to her.

  “Oh, I see,” Abby nodded, “and what does that have to do with eggs making her vomit?”

  Esther chuckled. “Some woman get sick the first few months of pregnancy and certain smells can send them hurling outside. Some poor women, like Sally, stay sick their whole pregnancy. It was the same when I was pregnant with Michael; hardly anything stayed in my stomach and the smell of boiled potatoes made me throw up every time.”

  Abby smiled grimly. The smell of boiled potatoes was making her want to vomit, too, since that was all she had eaten for the past several weeks. She wanted to talk more and find out the details about Mrs. Gable, but as always, Eliza had to rush the children off, and Esther needed to get going, and so in a matter of minutes the children were gone, the parents were gone, and even Will, after leaving the groceries at her front door, had left.

  /

  Esther spread the hot glaze of sugar, butter and cream over the sweet rolls wrapped tightly around glazed walnuts, raisins, and even some coconut. Michael sat on the counter swinging his legs to and fro with an intense gaze on the rolls.

  “So these aren’t for us?” he asked again for the hundredth time. Esther laughed out loud and planted a smacking kiss on his head.
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br />   “How many times do I have to tell you that they are for Miss Abigail?” she said, handing him the bowl and spoon to lick. Michael shrugged and began scraping out the bowl.

  “Well then, why are you making these and not cookies? You always make these for Christmas, and it is not Christmas.” He looked at his mother hopefully, “Is it almost Christmas?” he asked.

  Esther shook her head with a sad expression. “No; we still have all of autumn to get through,” she reminded him.

  Michael sighed and resumed licking the spoon. “Aunt Lily and Uncle Tim are going on a trip after Halloween. Can we go on a trip after Christmas?”

  “Aunt Lily and Uncle Tim are traveling for their anniversary. That is a very special event.”

  “It can be our anniversary,” Michael suggested.

  Esther smiled and stroked his chin. “I’ll think about it,” she said. The truth was that Esther did not want to travel, nor did she have the funds to do so. Still, just because she liked the safety and tranquility of Tall Pine didn’t mean she should rob her son of experiences. The thought of leaving, however, even for a small holiday, sent a jolt of fear through her.

  Esther’s forehead dented with a frown. She had left the East had she not? With a new baby and a murky past, she had jumped into the unknown. Why was the thought of travel scary? Had she become too settled and content in her habitual ways? Maybe she was getting old while still young.

  As these thoughts mingled in her head, Michael suddenly jumped down and wrapped his arms around her trim waist. Warmth filled Esther’s heart, chasing away her fears and replacing them with the faith found in love.

  “What’s that for, honey?” she asked, twirling her son’s curls in her fingers.

  “Because I love you.” He eyed the rolls, “Do you think Miss Abigail will share?” he asked with a mischievous grin. Esther answered by tickling him in the ribs and sending him off in joyful shrieks of laughter.

  It was just dusk when Esther pulled the wagon to the front of Abby’s humble house. A small light burned from inside. Good, Abby was still up.