"Hey,
Josiah!" Nathan pushed his way through the swinging saloon doors.
"Need to talk to you a minute."
Josiah
looked up to see his friend walking toward him, while a dusty cowboy
followed closely behind. He glanced down at the sad assortment of
cards in his hand, then back up at Ezra's smug expression. "I'm out."
He sighed and threw down his cards before turning his attention to Nathan
who had pulled up a chair from the neighboring table. "What's going
on?"
Nathan
nodded toward the anxious looking man standing behind him. "They got a
lineman and his horse tangled in some barbed wire out near Terlingua.
I'm headin' out that way now. Gonna be a lot of stitchin' up to do -
on both of 'em. I know I promised to help you with fixin-up that house
out back for the new schoolteacher, and the church roof and all . . ."
Josiah
placed a large hand on his friend's shoulder. He had seen the
damage barbed wire could do to a man, and a horse. "I'll go with you.
You might need some help."
"I can
handle it. You've got your own work to do. Maybe you can get
one of these able bodied men to lend you a hand. . . Good luck."
Nathan grinned and rose from the chair. "We've got a lot of riding to do.
Best be goin'. Come on, Charlie."
"Safe
journey, friend," Josiah said as he turned back to the game.
"Read 'em
and weep, gentlemen . . . read 'em and weep." Ezra 's knuckles made a
resounding crack on the tabletop as he threw down his winning hand.
"Damn!
That's about as much punishment as a man can be expected to take for one
night." Buck gave his cards a toss and reached across the table for
the whiskey. Upending the bottle over his glass, he watched dismally
as the last golden drops trickled out. "Empty," he muttered.
"Just like my pockets."
"I hear
you, " Vin commiserated. He pushed himself back from the table
to lean precariously on the rear legs of his chair. "A drink
would sure go a long ways toward makin' a body feel better -- and I'd
buy you one too, pal, but Ezra here tapped me out."
"Oh, for
cryin' out loud! What a bunch of momma's boys!" Ezra stood up
and gave a tug to each of his ruffled cuffs before walking over to the bar.
When he returned, he set a fresh bottle of whiskey in front of Buck.
"Now kindly refrain from belly-achin'."
"You're a
good man, Ezra Standish. A real gentleman." Buck called out as
Ezra left, tipping his hat and counting a wad of bills.
"Fellow
momma's boys, this one's on the gambler." Grasping the bottle by the
neck he filled his own glass, then Vin's. Turning to Josiah, he held
the bottle out to him."None for me, thanks." Josiah said, holding up
his hand.
"Come on,
Ezra bought it! This may never happen again."
"No, I have a lot of work to get done tomorrow." Josiah arched his
back stretching the kinks out of it.
"What kind of work ?" Buck asked, immediately looking as if he
regretted the question.
"Getting things ready for the new school teacher. Church roof's
leakin'." Josiah eyed first one, then the other of his companions.
"Could use some help with Nathan gone."
"No! No, no, no!" Buck rose and began backing away from the table
"You're not gettin' me up on no roof! Uh-uh! Sorry
preacher."
Josiah looked over at Vin who seemed have his attention riveted on the
tune the piano player was attempting. It was plain to see that help
would be hard to come by at this table. He turned back to Buck,
a big toothy grin on his face."My friends, are you up to a little wager?"
******
"Watch your step, ma'am. It's a long way down." The
stagecoach driver offered his arm to the trim young woman.
"Thank you." Elizabeth stepped from the coach into the bright Texas
sun and let her eyes scan the rough frontier town which was to be her new
home. She smiled. This was much as she had imagined it.
There were a few rustic stores scattered along the wooden sidewalk, a
newspaper office, a hotel, a saloon. But her interest went
immediately to the small church several yards further down the dusty
street.
"Can I take your bags down to the hotel, Miss Herrington? "
She shook her head. "No, actually most of the things in my trunk
will belong over there at the school." The driver shook his head.
"Ma'am, this here town ain't got no school."
Elizabeth's smile widened into a grin. "Mr. Holt, it does now."
In answer to his confused response, she added, "Just take my trunk over to
the church. I'll take care of it from there."
"If you say so, ma'am." He shook his head, obviously too tired and
hurried to argue with her as he swung her trunk from the boot at the
rear of the coach.
Carrying two smaller bags with her, Elizabeth led the way to the church,
pausing at the base of the steps. Her gaze began high at the
building's belfry , and then traveled down to the small wooden porch and the
open church doors. The entryway led to a darkened interior where
columns of dust sparkled in the slanted rays of sunlight streaming from the
open windows.
Depositing her trunk on the porch, the driver stepped back and touched
the brim of his hat. "Well, I hope the town treats you right, ma'am.
There ain't many ladies out here. I wish you well."
"Thank you, Mr. Holt." She watched him for only a moment as he
returned to the coach, then she turned to climb the steps into the church.
Inside, the air was heavy with the smell of fresh sawdust, musty
hymnals, and candle wax. After a brief hesitation, her eyes
adjusted to the light and she stepped in, setting her bags just inside the
door. A quick glance revealed that there was no one around.
She stood empty handed, relieved that the exhausting trip was
finally over as she tried to sort out her feelings. Ever since she had
left St. Louis, her emotions had alternated between the joy of high
expectations and the terror of vast uncertainties. And now finally it
came to this. This tiny frame church waited for her
on the brink of an immense wilderness. And with luck and her hard
work, this building would begin its second role as a schoolhouse.
With a settling sigh, Elizabeth walked up the center aisle between the
pews, taking in every detail of the room. Appreciating it as a place
of worship, she imagined its possibilities as a place of learning. In
her mind, the pews gave way to school desks.
The altar would need to be moved to one side to allow space for
her desk. Several pieces of furniture would need to be moved and
rearranged on a weekly basis. And the rear wall would require a blackboard
where a cross now hung.
She sighed again. Several years earlier she had shared a facility
with an elderly clergyman. He had been unhappy with the dual
arrangement, and it had taken a great deal of diplomacy and tact on her part
to keep him pacified.
She had asked about the priest in this town, but no one had been able to
give her much information. She knew only that he was the son of a
missionary and was somewhat "unorthodox". She wasn't sure whether that
term applied to his religion or his lifestyle. Either way, she wasn't
allowing herself to have very high expectations of him. For the
sake of the children, she would deal with the Reverend Sanchez as it became
necessary.
At the head of the aisle, she approached the lectern where a weathered
Bible lay open, its leaves fluttering slightly in a cross breeze from the
open windows. As she was about to turn away, she noticed a
fallen piece of fabric at the base of the stand. Supposing that the
parament had been blown to the floor, she bent to retrieve it. To her
surprise, when she spread the piece between her hands, it was not a
lectern scarf, but it was, rather, a man's shirt. It was soft and very
large, and it smelled slightly of fresh masculine perspiration, almost
like a musk, strangely elusive and heady. And she surprised herself by
bringing it up against her face for a more lingering
appreciation of the scent. It was then that she heard the sound
of men's voices coming from behind the church.
********
"So. What do you think?" Buck looked up from his place at the
base of the ladder at the very back of the church.
"I think this job would've been a lot easier if you had come up here with
me and helped." Josiah sat high on the church roof as he
tapped the lid back onto the container of tar.
Buck shook his head. "I'd rather hold the ladder. That tar
stinks, and I don't want to get it all over my best shirt."
"Hell, why'd you wear your best shirt anyway? You knew we had
work to do. Besides that, you could've taken it off and left it down
inside where I left mine." Josiah pulled a rag from his pants
pocket and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead, leaving a black
smudge across his cheek.
"And crawl around up there in my undershirt for the whole town to see?
Isn't it bad enough that you've offended the sensitivities of all the good
God-fearing church ladies?"
Josiah scowled down at his friend and slid the tar bucket closer to the
ladder. Scooting to the edge of the roof, he swung his long legs
onto the ladder and began his descent, bringing his tools and the
bucket with him.
Holding the ladder, Buck continued, "You didn't answer my
question."
"What question?"
"What do you think?"
Josiah glanced down at his friend impatiently. "What do I think
about what?"
"The new school marm. They said she's coming in on the stage this
morning. I know she's probably old and fat, but maybe she's not."
Reaching the ground, Josiah turned to his friend in realization. "That's
why you wore that new shirt, isn't it! You plan on sparking the
new school marm." Not waiting for an answer, he pulled the ladder to
the ground. "Well, you can at least help me take the ladder inside.
I've got to fix that wet spot on the ceiling before the plaster falls down."
Buck backed away avoiding the tar. "Well, she could be pretty."
He made a face as he watched Josiah use the rag again to wipe at a large
black smear on his red flannel sleeve. Josiah picked up the
front end of the ladder, and Buck gingerly lifted the rear. Together
they walked around the side of the building while Buck continued,
"Well, what do you think? Is there a chance?"
The corners of Josiah's blue eyes crinkled as he grinned slowly.
"A chance that she's pretty, or a chance that she'd consider sparking with
you?"
As they approached the front porch, Buck drawled, "I don't know why I'm
foolin' myself. She's bound to be some middle-aged spinster. If
she's not fat, she's all dried up and pruny with a face like a hatchet."
Buck was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the trunk on the front
porch, but the luggage caught Josiah's eyes immediately.
With a thoughtful frown, Josiah mounted the steps and carried his end of
the ladder into the doorway while Buck mumbled as he entered the dusky room.
"I had a teacher like that in the third grade...Miss Hackett.
Want to guess what we called her?"
From the darkened area near the lectern, a gentle feminine voice floated
toward them in response. "If you were at all like other
nine-year-old boys, I'm quite certain you called the poor woman , 'Miss
Hatchet' ."
Josiah stood, unaware of the ladder on his right arm or the bucket in his
left. If Buck said anything, Josiah didn't hear it. For
Josiah there was nothing, nothing except the figure stepping forward
into a shaft of gilded sunlight at the altar which he had built.
He had never believed in angels, not really. But there was nothing
on this side of heaven that could be this beautiful. She stood before
them, smiling while her green eyes danced in merriment. She was small
and slim, dressed in a blue traveling suit. Under a small blue hat,
her honey-colored hair was pulled back in a soft bun while softly curled
tendrils escaped to dance around her high cheek bones.And she was holding
his shirt.
Altars & Blackboards
by Rosemarie Hauer
"Miss Herrington," someone greeted her as she left the hotel. The man --
Buck, she remembered -- pulled his hat and flashed her a smile. Elizabeth
gave him a small nod and made her way over toward the little church that
soon was to be her classroom as well.
Buck caught up with her, almost tripping over his own feet in his effort
to draw her attention. "How do you like it here so far?" he inquired
cheerfully, walking backwards to look into her face as he waited for her
reply.
"It may be a little early to answer that," she replied evasively as they
reached the steps leading up to the church. She stopped and turned to
indicate the children playing noisily in the street. "It seems there’s a lot
of work to be done and I intend to start it as soon as I possibly can."
Buck didn’t appear to notice that he had just been dismissed. He preceded
her up the stairs and held open the door for her. "I’d be pleased, Ma’am, if
I could be of any help."
Buck was still talking, but Elizabeth forgot to listen as she caught
sight of the tall figure busying himself with putting up a blackboard where
the altar had been. She looked about the room and detected it in the corner
where he had put it until it was needed again.
"Hey, Josiah," Buck called out. "Look who I brought." Elizabeth thought
wryly that he sounded very much as if it was his achievement that she was
here now. But the thought was forgotten the moment Josiah straightened and
turned to look at her. There was sawdust in his full, silvery hair, and once
again she noticed the silent intensity of his gaze.
"Mr. Sanchez," she began.
"Josiah," he offered with a smile full of genuine warmth.
"Josiah," she repeated, smiling in return. The look in his eyes was
steady and slightly inquisitive, and she had to make an effort to remember
what she had been about to say.
"I thought you might want to start teaching as soon as possible," Josiah
suggested, indicating the blackboard with a gesture of his head.
"That’s why I’m here," Elizabeth replied. "Thank you, Josiah."
"I’m going to get you some chalk and a rag for the blackboard," Buck’s
eager voice came from some place behind her, and she all but started,
because she had completely forgotten he was there.
"Thank you, Mr..."
"Buck," he offered with a grin.
She inclined her head. "That’s very kind of you."
"Buck, Josiah!" a young man called from the street below. "There’s a
fight in the saloon. I need your help."
Buck pulled his hat before turning to leave. "Excuse us, Miss Herrington.
I’m coming J.D.!"
Elizabeth watched as Josiah retrieved his coat and hat and headed for the
door. Pausing, he cast her a look of concern as he passed by her. "Please
stay here," he advised, and she gave him a slight nod. His eyes lingered on
her face for a moment before he resumed his way. She looked after him as he
crossed the street and headed toward the saloon. With a pensive smile she
turned and approached the blackboard Josiah had crafted for her classroom.
Running her fingers over the smooth wooden frame, she wondered yet again
what it was that touched her about this silent man who was a priest and at
the same time didn’t seem to be. He puzzled and confused her, and yet she
felt she could trust him.
She smiled as she thought of how he had foreseen what she needed the most
to start her classes and how he had simply provided it without her having to
ask. No fight this time, she thought gratefully, comparing Josiah to the
elderly clergyman who had been so reluctant to share his space with her.
"At least not about altars and blackboards," she murmured to herself,
taking a seat in the front pew. There was something about Josiah that she
couldn’t quite figure out. He was different from other men she had met,
quieter, deeper. With most men she only needed a limited repertoire of words
and actions to get along with them. With Josiah nothing she did or said
seemed to be enough to meet the requirements of the moment. It’s probably
the way he looks at people, she mused. It feels as if he were seeing right
down to the bottom of who you are. With a sigh Elizabeth straightened and
folded her hands in her lap, waiting for Josiah’s return. She needed to talk
about her first class tomorrow morning, hoping he would be able to provide
her with some advice as to how to convince the children to come to school
instead of spending their time out on the street. Somehow she had a feeling
Josiah was good at convincing people.
Altars & Blackboards - Part II
by Rosemarie Hauer
Ignoring the pain in his arm, Josiah made his way up
the stairs to the church. The bullet had hardly scraped his skin, and he
didn’t intend to make a fuss over it. He knew the teacher would still be in
there, waiting for him. She needed to talk to him, that much he’d been able
to sense. Maybe he should ask her to postpone the conversation, until...
He caught sight of her slender form as she sat there completely unmoving
and obviously lost in thought. It wouldn’t be easy for her to establish a
school in this town and Josiah admired her courage.
Another thought flitted through his mind but he did his best to ignore
it. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder why a lady as beautiful as she wasn’t
married with a home and children of her own. But that was certainly none of
his business.
"Miss Herrington," he finally said, making his presence known.
She rose and turned, and as her eyes met his he had to make a conscious
effort not to lower his gaze. Once more he had a feeling she was able to
look right to the bottom of his soul.Poor kids, he thought wryly. They won’t
stand a chance.
"Josiah," she greeted him warmly. "Are you all right?"
He gave her a quick nod. Probably too quick, because there was a trace of
suspicion in her features as she raised her brows.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Herrington?" he asked with as
much calmness as he could muster.
"I wanted to thank you, Josiah, for being so hospitable and so willing to
help."
"I don’t own this church," he replied. "There’s nothing to thank me for."
She gave him a silent look he was helpless to interpret, but she didn’t
say anything further. Turning to the blackboard, she said, "You know the
people in this town, Josiah. How would you describe their attitude toward
school?"
He stepped up to her and wiped a trace of sawdust off the wooden frame of
the board. "A lot of them think it's important."
He hadn’t meant to fall silent, so he wasn’t surprised that she sensed
the unspoken 'but'.
"But some don’t," she added pensively. "That’s what it is like in most
places. I can deal with that."
"Everybody knows you plan on starting lessons nine o’clock tomorrow,"
Josiah pointed out. "I’m sure the children will be here on time."
She gave him an uncertain smile. "Thank you," she repeated, placing her
hand on his arm. He flinched and she withdrew her hand, her brows narrowing
in concern as she studied the blood on her fingers. "You’re hurt," she
stated. "You should go see a doctor."
"It’s nothing," he insisted.
"The wound could get infected if you don’t attend to it." She cast him a
no-nonsense look that brooked no argument, and he knew that the children
wouldn’t be the only ones who didn’t stand a chance in the face of so much
determination.
"I’ll talk to Nathan later," Josiah promised, seeing that she wouldn't be
swayed.
She nodded. "I had better get organized. Will I see you in the morning?"
"I’ll be here to see if you need anything," he said.
She thanked him again before turning to leave. He watched her disappear
into the light of the afternoon sun streaming in through the door, marveling
at the sense of purpose that suddenly filled him.
Mr. Fix-it
by Terrie Milliman
"Nails." Without looking down from his perch on the ladder, Josiah
thrust out his hand to his assistant.
No response.
"Hey, I need some nails up here."
Nothing.
"Buck!" He snapped his fingers.
Looking down to where Buck stood below, he saw a goofy grin spreading
across his friend's face. Following the direction of his gaze, Josiah
could see Elizabeth standing at the back window of her schoolroom.
At that very moment as she turned and waved at them, Josiah nodded and
touched the brim of his hat.
"See ya, pal," Buck said, heading for the church.
"Hey, where do you think you're goin'?" Josiah called after him,
coming down from the ladder.
"Well, to see Miss Elizabeth, where do ya think?"
"Uh-uh. No, you're not. She's got a class going on in there.
You can't just break in on it," Josiah said, as he caught up
with him. "Besides, we've got work to do, and you did offer to help.
If that's what you want to call it."
"Nothing you can't handle, Preacherman." Buck answered back,
clapping Josiah on the back. "Anyway, she needs me."
"Needs you?"
"Yeah. She motioned for me."
"She did not!"
"Sure she did. Didn't you see it? I'll admit it was . . .
subtle, but I knew what she meant. You just don't pick up on that sort
of thing. I think she kinda . . . well, likes me." Buck scuffed
toe of his boot in the dusty ground and tried his best to look humble.
"Oh, Lord . . ." Josiah said with a sigh. Shaking his head, he saw
his friend strut away and head for the back steps of the church.
"Watch out! Don't use those . . ."
Before Josiah could finish the warning, Buck pushed aside the pieces of
lumber blocking access to the stairs and leaped up to the top one, only to
break through a rotten board Josiah had planned to fix when he had time.
Buck looked up from his rather humiliating waist-deep position to find
Elizabeth and several of her students standing at the back door, witnesses
to his downfall.
Ever the charmer, Buck quickly removed his hat and made a valiant attempt
to bow from the waist. "Ma'am."
Seeing he wasn't hurt, Elizabeth laughed, shook her head and ushered her
children back into their classroom.
Buck struggled for a minute trying to extricated himself, then as best as
he could, turned in Josiah's direction. "Hey . . .preacher, help me
out of here, would ya?"
Josiah merely tipped his hat to
Buck. "See ya, pal." With a satisfied grin on his face, he
returned to his work on the new teacher's house.