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Rebecca's Song (The Daughters of Riverton, Book 3)

By Dawn Kinzer

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One
Riverton, Wisconsin
September 1905

Willie Grayson! Don’t you dare throw another punch!”

How could one child be more difficult to handle in the short time he’d been in Riverton than all her other students combined? Rebecca Hoyt lifted her skirt, almost tripping in her haste to descend the schoolhouse steps. Her feet skimmed the short span of worn grass between the last step and the bare ground where two boys wrestled, turning laughter-filled play under clear, blue skies into a dismal ruckus. Dust rose like puffs of brown smoke around them as children yelled encouragement to Albert Kingston.

Rebecca broke through their circle, grabbed Willie’s shoulders, and pulled him off Albert before he had a chance to raise his fist and deliver another blow to the younger boy. “What has gotten into you?”

The boy shrugged free from her grasp and narrowed his eyes as he glared at her. “He said I was out—that I didn’t touch base!”

“Well, you didn’t!” Albert sat up and wiped his face, leaving a dark smudge of dirt across his cheek. Bright red blood dribbled from his nose. “Don’t you know how to play baseball?

A buggy carrying Marie Kingston pulled up to the school. “Albert, are you all right?” She scrambled down, tot-ing a silver lunch pail. “What happened?” She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in her skirt and wiped her son’s face. “Let me take a look at you.”

The boy gave an embarrassed nod toward his friends and scowled. “Ma, leave me alone!”

His mother held Albert’s face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “Listen, young man,” she said firmly. “What gave you the idea you should fight bullies twice your size?”

“Aw, Ma. He started it.” Albert pulled his mother’s hands from his cheeks.

“You mad ’cause I defended myself?”

“I’m not angry with you. A boy has every right to protect himself.” Mrs. Kingston glanced at Rebecca. By her tone and the fire in her eyes, the boy’s mother was struggling to keep composure.

This was not going to bode well in Rebecca’s favor. Thirteen-year-old Willie had been a problem since entering her classroom four weeks earlier.

The rest of her students now stood huddled together, watching the outcome of the fight. “There’s nothing more to see, and recess is almost over.” Rebecca gestured toward the area of the schoolyard where swings and seesaws sat empty. “So, move on—unless you all want to head back into class now.” The children dispersed as fast as rabbits fleeing a pack of wolves, but Rebecca stepped in front of Willie be-fore he had a chance to escape.

“You’re not excused.” She grasped his shoulders and turned him around to face Albert and his mother. “You need to apologize to Albert and Mrs. Kingston for your be-havior.” Rebecca tightened her grip. She’d stand there until it snowed in November if she had to—backing down wasn’t an option.

Willie stiffened. “Sorry,” he growled.

A groan almost escaped Rebecca’s lips, but she swallowed it. “You can do better, Willie.”

“I apologize for starting a fight and punching Albert in the face,” he said through clenched teeth.

Albert wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have teased you about not touching base.”

“Thank you, boys.” Rebecca released her hold. “Willie, please return to the classroom and remain in your seat. We’ll have further discussion when I return.”

Her student bolted toward the building and didn’t look back.

Albert’s mother handed him the silver pail she carried. “Find a place to sit over there. When I’m finished speaking to Miss Hoyt, I’m taking you home to get you cleaned up.”

He grumbled but obeyed, settling on a log out of hearing distance.

“Good thing I brought Albert’s forgotten lunch, or I wouldn’t have seen for my own eyes what that bully did to him.” Her lips drew into a straight line.

“Mrs. Kingston, I’m so sorry.” What else could Rebecca say? That it would never happen again? She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.

“Miss Hoyt, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been a good teacher.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca sensed that wasn’t all the woman wanted to say, and she clenched her hands behind her back. The woman’s husband was on the school board, and there was no hope of him keeping the incident to himself.

“However …” She tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “My husband mentioned something you should know.”

“All right, if it won’t get you into trouble for sharing it with me.” The woman’s hesitation warned Rebecca—whatever Mrs. Kingston wanted to disclose, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Were school board members frustrated with her inability to control one student’s behavior? Willie had been attending school in Riverton for a month. The board members would give her more time to come up with a solution, wouldn’t they? Rebecca had taught in Riverton since finishing her teacher’s training, and she’d never received complaints in those ten years about her work. How could four weeks compare to the history she’d created with the school?

“You’re going to hear about it anyway.” The woman sighed, sounding as defeated as Rebecca sometimes felt. “Parents have been expressing concerns that you can no longer control your classroom, and if something doesn’t change, the board may have to make some decisions.”

“I see …” Rebecca’s stomach soured at what sounded like a threat. Could she actually lose her job because one student was difficult to handle? Without her teaching posi-tion, she’d have no income to add to her small savings, tucked away with big hopes for her future.

Another town might provide more opportunities, but she’d grown up in Riverton. Her parents—the only family she had—also lived in the small town. She was able to get by on the meager salary she received because of staying with them. Instead of boarding with a student’s family, like most teachers in other villages, she remained in familiar comfort. Besides, Rebecca wasn’t suited for big-city life, and teaching jobs were scarce this time of year anywhere she’d search.

The children were her main concern. How would they adjust to a stranger in the classroom? Rebecca had known most of them since they were born. Would another teacher care about them as much as she did—as though they were her own?

“There’s something else you should be warned about.” After a glance toward her glum-looking son, Mrs. Kingston put her hand on Rebecca’s arm, as though to prepare her for even worse news. “The parent who is making the biggest fuss is Isaiah Grayson.”

Ernest and Willie’s own father? Ernest, the younger son, had been cooperative and friendly, unlike his angry broth-er. Except when Willie influenced him to act otherwise.

“He claims he wants a good education for his sons, and despite being a newcomer to Riverton, he’s throwing his weight around to make sure they get it. He’s not blaming his son for disruptions in the classroom. He’s blaming you. He’s made it very clear that he feels a woman can’t maintain discipline at school, and he’s pushing for a man to re-place you.”

The man was finding fault with her? If Rebecca’s heart didn’t stop beating so hard, she’d end up with cracked ribs. Did he not take any responsibility at all for his son’s misbehavior and lack of respect? Rebecca had requested a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Grayson several times, but they’d put her off because of tending to their new business. She’d even dropped in at the pharmacy to speak to them, but it wasn’t appropriate to discuss Willie in front of customers.

Rebecca had tried to be patient, but now aware that Mr. Grayson was sabotaging her position, she wouldn’t be ignored any longer.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kingston. I appreciate you confiding in me.” Rebecca joined Albert where he sat on the log waiting for his mother. “Go home and rest, Albert. I’ll see you here tomorrow morning.”

Mrs. Kingston led her son to the buggy, and Rebecca watched them climb in and drive away.

“Time to go in, children!” Rebecca was no longer in the mood for play.

***

The sun shone through the schoolhouse windows, illuminating a path across Rebecca’s desk while her students worked diligently on their assignments. She embraced the peaceful moment—a nice contrast to the earlier disruptive brawl. Willie sat quietly, at least for the moment, in the back row. He may not be working on arithmetic problems, but at least he wasn’t bothering any students. After school was dismissed, Rebecca would dole out his punishment for starting a fight with Albert.

A slight breeze from an open window ruffled loose papers. It wouldn’t be long before royal blue skies would turn milky gray, the weather would chill, and Rebecca would be stoking a fire in the stove to keep the building comfortably warm.

A small hand shot up from the front row. Mary Caswell’s large, sapphire-colored eyes revealed a trace of panic as she squirmed in her seat.
Rebecca gave the little girl a warm smile. “Mary, do you need to excuse yourself to go outside?”

The blonde head of curls nodded.

“You may leave.”

The seven-year-old slipped from her seat and practically ran out the door.
“Don’t dawdle returning to the classroom!”

Rebecca surveyed the remaining twenty-seven elementary students. The five high school students were separated from the younger ones only because the owner of the Home Store, George Carter, had offered to donate materials for a small addition to the one-room schoolhouse.

Once she’d explained the need, it hadn’t taken long for members of her church to volunteer their time and carpentry skills. The new room was placed to the right of Rebecca’s desk, and with a large opening between the two areas, she was able to move freely between them and teach accordingly while keeping an eye on all her students.

Having their own space enabled the older students to focus better on their studies, and it didn’t hurt that it made them feel important. Most of the farm children quit school after the eighth grade, and Rebecca wanted to encourage as many as she could to finish high school—even go to college.

She’d always hungered for knowledge, and it sent a thrill through her every time she observed excitement in a child learning something new.

Teaching was her life. With no hope of having children of her own, her students had become her family. Rebecca’s eyes burned as she surveyed her classroom, and she blinked back the unexpected moisture gathering. What would she do without them?

According to her doctor, because of not having a monthly flow like other women, the one thing she’d always wanted was not possible. Now almost thirty, and living in a small town, she’d given up on finding love. Over the years, there hadn’t been many suitors after her fiancé had broken their engagement. He wanted a family—she couldn’t give him one. Except for her parents and a few friends, God must have decided she’d be better off alone.

Alone—the word and its meaning made her throat suddenly ache as though scraped raw. If she dwelled on it, she’d only feel empty and useless. But Rebecca wouldn’t be consumed by self-pity. She’d focus on all the good that had come into her life.

For too long, influenced by her mother’s superior atti-tude, she’d treated people like they were beneath her or as pawns to get what she wanted. Rebecca had even gone so far as to spread horrible rumors, hoping the man involved would choose her instead of another woman. But the truth was exposed, and Rebecca had spent the last several years trying to make amends to those she’d hurt. Although she’d been forgiven, and people had moved on from her mistakes, Rebecca had remained lonely.

Until eleven months ago, when Addie Brown moved to Riverton with her husband, Levi, and their three children. Their oldest son, Oliver, was a student fascinated with geography. Rebecca had never taught a ten-year-old who challenged her so much in that subject. Seven-year-old Na-than had remained a quiet thinker, while five-year-old Cal-lie talked incessantly. Where the child had gotten her ob-session with animals Rebecca still hadn’t figured out, but the girl continually tried to sneak little critters into the classroom.

Rebecca and Addie quickly became friends. And although Rebecca’s relationships with women had improved over the past several years, to have a fresh start with some-one new—someone who didn’t have a past with her—was a gift. They shared recipes and favorite books, talked for hours over tea, and she was going to give Addie piano lessons. For the first time since she was a young girl, Rebecca had a best friend who wanted to spend time with her just because they enjoyed each other’s company. For her, being an only child, the relationship with Addie was like sister-hood.

That was why it made perfect sense for Rebecca to take care of the children so Addie could join Levi on a business trip. Rebecca had almost pushed her friend into going after seeing how much Levi wanted Addie’s company, believing it would be good for the husband and wife to have time alone without their three young ones.

They’d left yesterday, and it did her heart good to see Addie excited for their adventure, even as she tearfully hugged her children goodbye.
Fortunately, except for Callie trying to sneak a toad into her bedroom, the night had gone smoothly—after Rebecca had convinced the little girl that the amphibian would be happier outside with his friends and family. Aside from attending teacher’s college, she’d lived with her parents her entire life, and spending time with children in a home where she played mistress felt both satisfying and freeing.

Now that she’d tasted that kind of independence, she hungered for more. Over the years she’d managed to accumulate a little nest egg, and although she’d inherit her parents’ house one day, she hoped to purchase her own little home within a year. Nothing much—just a sanctuary where she could breathe. A refuge from her mother’s critical attitude and poisoning influence.

Rebecca’s stomach flipped. The thought of remaining in her parents’ home indefinitely made her heart race with anxiety. Calm down. These children need you. No one is going to take them or the classroom away from you.

Only a few minutes remained before Rebecca would begin today’s history lesson. Time to get back to grading papers. She heard the door to the classroom open and she glanced up, expecting to see Mary slip in. Instead she saw Marshal Gates, the local law official.

“Marshal, what can I do for you?” Rebecca stood from behind her desk as the students began chattering. What could the lawman want? Had one of her students gotten into trouble? Was this about Willie? “Quiet, children. Please continue working on your math problems.” She made her way to the back of the room where the marshal stood with his hat in hand. “Is something wrong?”

“Could we step outside, Miss Hoyt?” By his serious expression and tone, he carried grave news.

“Of course.” Rebecca faced the classroom filled with curious eyes staring back. “Children, please continue working quietly on your assignments. Andrew will be in charge while I speak with Marshal Gates, and I’ll also be right out-side listening for any mischief.” Rebecca raised her eyebrow as a warning and twirled her finger as a sign for the students to turn around.

As soon as her high school student, Andrew, was sitting at her desk and the students were focused on the papers and books in front of them, Rebecca followed the marshal outside and closed the door behind her.

Mrs. Kingston wouldn’t have reported the incident from recess. Would she? “Marshal, if this is about the boys fighting today, I can assure you I’ve dealt with the matter.”

“What fight?” He shook his head. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Has something happened to one of my parents?” Rebecca’s mouth dried, and her knees went as limp as a bloom too long out of water. Although her father had many years’ experience as the local vet, there was still the risk of a large animal injuring him.

“No—nothing has happened to your mother or the doc.” The marshal wiped his brow, then peered at her with saddened eyes.

“Is someone in trouble?” Rebecca’s heart squeezed, and what little energy she had left started to drain from her body. Could one of her students have broken the law? How many problems did she have to deal with in one day?

“There’s no way to say this except to come right out with it.” Marshal Gates gripped his hat. “It has to do with Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Word around town is that you’ve gotten close to their family.”

“Levi and Addie?” Why would her friendship with their family be an issue with the law? She swallowed hard, her tired mind racing to corral scrambling thoughts. “Yes, Mrs. Brown has become a good friend, and her three children are in my classroom now.” Rebecca’s chest rose and fell with the quickened pace of her breathing and heart’s pounding.

“I received a telegram, and I’m afraid I’m here to deliver some bad news. They were both killed during a train robbery last night while on their way to Chicago.”

He must be wrong. Rebecca’s knees buckled, and the marshal reached out and grabbed her arm as she dropped to one of the steps leading up to the front door of the school.

Gates knelt next to her, still lightly gripping her elbow. “I’m sorry. I know this is shocking.” His voice was gentle as he continued. “They were shot while thieves were escaping law enforcement on the train.”

Numb. Her body and mind. Rebecca had to be dream-ing. Addie and Levi dead? Impossible. The September sun beaming down warmed her face. Death should announce itself on a cold, gray, and blustery day—not on a perfectly lovely afternoon like today.

Her best friend …

“Miss Hoyt,” Marshal Gates said, tilting his head and trying to regain eye contact, “the children are an obvious concern at this point. Do you know of any relatives?”

“Addie has a brother.” Her throat had tightened, and Rebecca struggled to speak. She’d never met him and knew little about him, except that Addie and her brother were close. “They were going to meet him in Chicago, then take another train to New Orleans for the National Feed and Grain Association convention. Addie’s brother is a detective with the Illinois Central Railroad. He rides the rails between Chicago and New Orleans and was going to travel with them during that part of the journey.”

Guilt crushed Rebecca like a brick pulverizing a walnut. What were Oliver, Nathan, and Callie going to do? As new manager of the feed mill, Levi was asked to attend the convention. If Rebecca hadn’t insisted Addie travel with Levi, they’d still have their mother. Now three children were orphans.

The marshal scratched his head. “Any other relatives you can recall? Grandparents?”

“Addie mentioned once that Levi has a cousin—a surgeon. I don’t think she ever mentioned his name or where he lived.” Rebecca’s eyes burned to release the pools gathering beneath the rims, but she couldn’t return to the class-room in tears. “I’ve been taking care of the children this week. Of course I’ll continue to do so as long as necessary.”

She’d have to find a way to tell them. But, how was she going to explain their parents not returning home again—ever? Rebecca wiped warm moisture from the corners of her eyes and chewed her lower lip. No matter how difficult, the devastating news was better coming from her than Marshal Gates. Though a compassionate man, those dear children didn’t know him, and they’d need someone to hug them and dry their tears once they heard the news.

“I was hoping you would,” the marshal said, standing. “They’ll be in good hands then, until something else is figured out. With the brother’s connections to the railroad, he must have been notified by now. I’m sure we’ll hear something from him soon.”

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