His Prairie Sweetheart. Erica Vetsch

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СКАЧАТЬ all your fans and parasols match your dresses? Is that what’s in all these bags and boxes?”

      That’s what he wanted to talk about? “Some of them match. I can’t see why it’s a concern of yours.” She regretted her sharp tone at once, but then again, he’d made no bones about how he felt about her qualifications. He seemed to think he could sum her up just by looking at her, so why couldn’t she do the same?

      He fell silent.

      When they finally approached a cluster of small buildings, Savannah found herself praying Elias would drive right by. A tiny abode, the size of the summer kitchen of Savannah’s house in Raleigh, sat in a dusty yard, and though it had a peaked, wooden roof and log walls, part of it appeared to be built right into a small hillside. Surely this wasn’t one of those horrid sod houses or dugouts of which she’d heard? Chickens pecked along a fence, and a row of laundry hung out on a line for all the world to see.

      The sun bounced off the whitewashed cabin, nearly blinding her. At least the paint made it look clean and tidy. But it was so small. How many people lived here?

      Too close for Savannah’s comfort, a pair of pigs rooted in a sty next to a sturdy-looking barn. The barnyard smells rising up in the summer sunshine had her flapping her fan. How did anyone stand it, especially in this heat? Not a tree broke the horizon for as far as she could see, though fields of corn and wheat rustled in the breeze. What she wouldn’t give for some decent shade and a glass of iced lemonade.

      A woman emerged from the house, wiping her hands on her apron. She had her blond braids wrapped around her head like a halo, and her smile was sweet.

      But her calico dress was faded and drooping, and she wore...wooden clogs on her feet. Savannah glanced at her traveling costume, the fine sateen cloth, the ivory lace and her kid gloves. She’d thought it serviceable enough when she donned it at the hotel that morning, but now she understood what Elias had meant about her parasol and fan matching her dress.

      “God kveld, Elias. Er at den nye læreren?” The woman greeted Elias and bobbed her head, smiling at Savannah.

      “Ja, dette er hun.” Elias hefted a couple of her bags from the back. “Hennes navn er Miss Cox.”

      Two children, both fair and sun-browned, tumbled out of the house. They skidded to a stop when they spied Savannah. Surely they would be her students, as they were both school-aged. Perhaps ten and twelve? The girl found her voice first, firing a rapid question at Elias. He replied, and Savannah understood not a single word.

      “Pardon me.”

      Elias turned, and she motioned him over. Setting her bags in the dirt, he went to her side. “What?”

      Lowering her head and her voice, she whispered, “It’s rude to speak in another language and leave someone out of the conversation. Why aren’t you using English?”

      From this close, she could see the blue flecks in his gray eyes and the beginnings of a beard shadowing his slim cheeks. When he leaned in, she smelled sunshine and cotton. “We’re speaking Norwegian because the Halvorsons don’t speak English.”

      A strange trickling feeling started in her chest—probably what was left of her courage draining out. “Are you jesting?”

      “Nope.”

      “I’m to board with a family that speaks no English.”

      “They’re the closest family to the schoolhouse.” His shrug made her want to scream. She’d traveled across the country, leaving everything she knew, and he was going to dump her with a family that didn’t even speak English?

      Then the little girl edged over, eyes sparkling, freckles spattering her nose. She reached up gently, as if sensing Savannah’s fear, and took her hand. “Du er pen. Mitt navn er Rut. Du vil dele rommet mitt.”

      Savannah looked to Elias.

      “She says she thinks you’re pretty, that her name is Rut, and that you will be sharing her room.” He continued to unload the bags. “This fellow is Lars, Rut’s brother, and this is their mother, Agneta Halvorson.”

      Savannah remembered her manners, slipped from the buckboard and went to Mrs. Halvorson. “I’m pleased to meet you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” She took the older woman’s work-worn hand in hers.

      Elias translated for her, and Agneta beamed, motioning for them to come inside. As Savannah entered the small house, the smell of something rich and meaty greeted her. Her stomach gurgled, and she put her palm to her middle, her cheeks heating. But Agneta just laughed, a delightful sound like bells. She spoke to Elias, pointing to a steep stair in the corner. Lars and Elias staggered up with Savannah’s baggage, and Rut’s eyes widened as they went out for another trip.

      Agneta put her hand on Savannah’s shoulder and directed her to sit at the table. She did as she was bidden, surveying the room. The walls had been painted pale blue on the upper half and a rusty red-brown on the lower. Small-paned windows let in a little light, but the room was dim. A large fireplace and hearth of a construction she’d never seen before took up one corner, and a long table with benches sat before it. Two small cabinets hung from the walls, painted with flowers and scrolls, and a large sideboard with fine carvings took up one wall. In the corner, with a sheet curtain hanging around it to separate it from the rest of the room, sat a bed covered in a pretty quilt.

      Rut sat across from Savannah and propped her chin on her palm, staring.

      Through it all, Agneta chattered away as if Savannah could understand every word. Savannah tugged off her fingerless lace gloves, folded them with her fan and tucked them into her handbag. Her parasol leaned against her leg, and she caught Rut eyeing it. Mother and daughter exchanged a few words and Rut nodded. She popped up and went to Savannah, holding out her hand, then pointing to Savannah’s hat, bag and parasol.

      “Oh, you want to take them?” Relieved at understanding at least one thing, Savannah reached up and removed her hatpin, easing her fascinator-style hat from her hair. “I must look a mess, what with traveling and the ride from town.” She smoothed her hair up from the base of her neck, wishing she was at home so she could sink into the claw-footed tub and wash away the dirt and tiredness.

      Elias and Lars clattered down the steps, and Lars went outside right away, leaving the door open. He dropped to his knees and Captain bounded up, licking his face and tumbling him backward into the dirt. From the sound of his laughter, the boy didn’t mind.

      “There’s just the one case left. But there’s no more room upstairs.” Elias put his hands on his hips. “What’s in that thing, anyway? Oh, wait, I forgot. It’s none of my business.” He shrugged. “I’ll bring it in, but it will have to stay down here.”

      When he’d brought the case in, he set it near the bottom of the stairs. “I have to be going. I promised my pa I’d stop by his place. He owns the next farm to the north of here, about a mile or so.”

      Strange that she had to force herself not to grab hold of his arm and beg him not to leave her. Savannah barely knew him, and they hadn’t exactly been cordial to one another. And yet she wanted him to stay.

      Perhaps she was seeing things that weren’t there, perhaps it was her tiredness putting thoughts into her head, but she thought she glimpsed a triumphant, challenging gleam in his eyes, as if he was daring her to beg him to take her back to town.

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