the little ones their letters.
“Indeed.” Catherine led her over to the other woman, a tall lady, her eyes were a vibrant shade of green in a face shaped like Beth’s.
“This is Mrs. Wallin, Beth’s mother,” Catherine explained.
“So glad you could join us, Miss Fosgrave,” the elder Mrs. Wallin said with a ready smile. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
Something pounded on the boardwalk then, and the door opened to admit the rest of the Wallin men. They were all dressed in rough trousers and cotton shirts open at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves to reveal flannel beneath. Rina recognized the largest as Drew, Catherine’s husband, and he confirmed the fact by crossing to their sides and kissing Catherine on the cheek.
The more slender brother, who was as tall as him with hair the color of James’s, was introduced as Simon, and the younger one with red-gold hair and green eyes as John. The youngest yet, who must have been Levi, poked his curly-haired head from the back room and ordered John to help him serve. The rest started moving toward the table.
She knew she should join them, but she suddenly felt alone, uncertain. They were so eager, so helpful. Would they still want her to teach if they knew about how she’d been raised, by whom she’d been raised?
James was the last through the door. His brothers hailed him, and his mother called his name in greeting. He offered them a smile before crossing to her side and holding out his arm.
“May I have the honor of escorting you to the table, Miss Fosgrave?”
This time it was easy to place her hand on his arm, to lean on that strength. “The honor is all mine, Mr. Wallin.”
He led her to the table, then pulled out one of the benches to allow her to sit. She didn’t realize until he moved away that everyone in his family was staring at him, Beth with mouth open wide.
James went to hold out the chair at the foot of the table for his mother. “Manners?” he suggested to his brothers with an arched look.
“Well, la-di-da, as Miss Maddie would say,” Levi retorted, carrying a steaming cast-iron tureen to the table. “What are we, the queen of France?”
Rina’s face felt hot, but Mrs. Wallin pointed a finger at her youngest son. “There is nothing wrong with treating others with respect, Levi Aloysius Wallin.”
Catherine turned to her brother-in-law. “Aloysius?”
Now Levi was coloring. “Pa said it was from the old country.”
Rina could not bear to see the boy teased. “It’s a fine name,” she said. “Far better than being called Alexandrina Eugenia. I have had to live with that most of my life.”
He shook his head. “You surely have me beat, ma’am.”
“Welcome to Wallin Landing, Alexandrina Eugenia Fosgrave,” Mrs. Wallin said.
“Rina, please, Mrs. Wallin,” Rina said. “A recent change.” She couldn’t help glancing at James, who was, of course, grinning.
The rest of them sat then, and Drew said the blessing from the head of the table. Head bowed, Rina listened to his deep voice thank God for what they were about to receive. She was thankful, as well. They’d arrived safely, and the family seemed kind and considerate. But she had yet to see if the school was as James had described it. She could only pray she had been right to trust him.
* * *
James munched on one of his brother’s famous biscuits slathered in honey butter and watched Rina pick at her food from across the table. At first, each laugh had made her flinch, and she’d glanced around as if waiting for someone to order them to cease their nonsense.
Of course his older brother Simon had been nearly as bad. He kept narrowing his light green eyes at her as if something about her simply didn’t add up. That was Simon—analyzing every situation and spotting the problems just as James spotted the potential. James would never admit it to his strong-willed brother, but he admired Simon’s ability to get things done, to stay on track. Still he wasn’t about to let Simon pick on Rina.
He couldn’t help remembering what Maddie had said, that someone had hurt her. Part of him wanted to hold her close, shelter her from whatever had sapped her joy. The other part wanted to tease her unmercifully until she smiled again.
He must have restrained himself sufficiently, for his family noticed.
“Are you feeling sick?” Beth asked as he helped her clear the table. Catherine and Ma had taken Rina aside, most likely to talk about their hopes for the school.
“Never felt better,” James said, carrying the empty tureen to the washtub in the back room. He peered over his shoulder through the opening by the hearth in time to see Rina frown. Didn’t she like what they were saying? Was she even now thinking about leaving? He’d worked too hard to coax her into coming!
“No, there’s something wrong,” John said, following them with a stack of cups. “Otherwise he would have answered your question with a joke.”
James shook his head. “Not everything has to be a joke.”
Beth clutched her chest. “What! Where is the James Wallin we know and love?”
“He perished under the weight of Miss Fosgrave’s trunk,” James answered, and his sister and brother laughed.
He was smiling as he returned to the front room. He liked making people laugh. Something about the light in their eyes raised his own spirits. For a moment, he felt worthwhile, like he could do something his more talented brothers couldn’t.
Why couldn’t he make Rina laugh?
He’d seen hints of it, a twitch of those pink lips that suggested she wasn’t immune to his charm. But he wanted to hear her laugh. He wanted to see her eyes brighten, her smile broaden. That, he thought, would be a glorious sight.
He’d simply have to think of another strategy.
As he began gathering up the remaining dishes, Catherine moved to his side.
“I must ask, James,” she murmured. “Why did you choose Miss Fosgrave?”
James glanced to where his mother was showing Rina one of her colorful quilts. “Look at her, Catherine. Nothing rattles her. That’s what we need in our schoolteacher. You know how some of those women would react when they discovered they’ll have three students for the moment, two of which should have graduated the schoolroom years ago.”
Catherine shook her head, pale hair gleaming in the lamplight. “I know our school is unique, and I can see Miss Fosgrave has a presence, James. But she’s quite pretty.”
James eyed her. “It doesn’t require a hatchet-faced spinster to teach a fellow, ma’am.”
“It doesn’t take a beauty, either,” she retorted. “At the moment, however, I’m more concerned with her skills. I want you to join us on this interview. There’s a great deal we must know about Miss Fosgrave before we grant her this position.”
Was
