The next morning, Ben stood near the cast-iron stove scrambling eggs for breakfast. Snow and ice blew against the house with a vengeance, as if winter was shaking its angry fist at the world, daring it to lay dormant. He’d never seen a blizzard so early, and it didn’t bode well for the lonely months ahead.
A floorboard creaked and Ben turned to find Miss Wilkes fidgeting uncomfortably in the doorway. In the light of day, he found her to be even prettier than he’d first thought by the glow of the lantern. Her blond hair was twisted in a becoming knot, with tendrils curling around her face. Blue eyes, the color of wild forget-me-nots under a warm prairie sun were fringed with those long lashes, and she had the tiniest waist he’d ever seen. She didn’t look as young and defenseless as he’d first thought, either. He guessed her to be twenty-three or twenty-four, though she carried herself as if she had a fair share of life already behind her.
“Good morning,” Ben said as he nodded to the table. “I’ll have some eggs for you in a minute. Help yourself to bread and jam. The coffee’s hot.”
She took a tentative step into the kitchen as if afraid of being in the same room alone with him. Last night, they’d gone to their bedrooms immediately after they ate their flapjacks. It had been awkward and she’d fled the moment he’d said good-night. He didn’t blame her. It was a difficult situation she’d found herself in, but he’d do all he could to protect her reputation.
“Will I find a more suitable place to stay this morning?” she asked as she picked up a mug and filled it with coffee. “I’d also like to see the superintendent as soon as possible.”
Ben glanced out the window, but all he could see was snow and more snow. “I think the storm is worse today than last night.” He shook his head. “I don’t feel right about taking you out there again. At least not now. We’ll go later, if it lets up.”
She sighed and set the coffeepot back on the stove. “I suppose the damage is already done.”
Ben put the eggs on the table and motioned for her to take a seat. He also sat and then he bowed his head. “For this meal, and our lives, Lord, we are eternally grateful. Amen.”
“Amen,” she echoed.
Ben dished up her plate and she took a piece of bread and lathered it with strawberry jam. There was so much he’d like to know about her. He was always fascinated when a young lady braved the frontier and set out on her own—this one especially. She seemed so vulnerable, yet he suspected there was steel-like determination under that delicate exterior.
She glanced up at him. “Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sure this isn’t what you expected, either.”
He laughed. “I was definitely expecting Mr. Wilkes.”
She smiled, revealing a row of beautiful white teeth. “Do you take in many boarders?”
“He would have been my first.”
She laughed, and the sound was the merriest thing he’d ever heard. “He doesn’t exist.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Ben scooped some eggs onto his own plate. “I was looking forward to a roommate for the winter months. I used to be a circuit preacher and I would go from home to home, rarely alone for more than a night or two. Before that, I lived at three different missions, which were always busy with people coming and going. It’s been a hard transition to living alone.”
Miss Wilkes studied him with unabashed curiosity. “You’re a very interesting man, Reverend Lahaye. I’d like to hear more about your life and travels one day.”
He didn’t mind her honest assessment. Welcomed it, actually. “Feel free to call me Ben.”
She lifted her eyebrows and took a sip of her coffee. “I hardly know you.”
“I don’t sit on pretenses or eastern manners,” Ben said. “Life’s too hard and too short to worry about all that.”
She set her mug down, sadness filling her countenance. “Life is too short.”
What had this young lady experienced that would sit so heavily upon her? He had always been good at reading people, and he could sense she had a great deal of pain in her past.
She pulled herself from the sadness and squared her shoulders. “I suppose you should call me Emmy, then, since I intend to stay.”
Ben paused as he spread his jam over his bread. “I have it on good authority that the superintendent will send you home on Monday.”
“And I have it on good authority that I won’t let him.”
He liked her willpower, even if it was misguided. “The school board wants a man.”
“Don’t you need a teacher? At least while you look for a man? Why not give me a chance?” Her eyes filled with such passion, he couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. “Allow me to prove to you that I am here to stay. I want this job more than anything—and I assure you, I have no intentions on marrying now or in the future.”
What a pity. It wasn’t hard to imagine her in a snug home, surrounded by children.
“As a school board member,” Emmy continued, unaware of Ben’s wayward thoughts, “could you speak on my behalf? I promise you won’t regret keeping me in Little Falls.”
It wouldn’t take long for suitors to come calling on Emmy Wilkes—despite her declaration to remain single. It would be impossible to keep the men away. But didn’t they owe her the benefit of the doubt? “I will do what I can to help.”
She let out a relieved sigh. “I’m in your debt.”
A knock at the front door brought both their heads up.
“Who would brave this storm?” Ben wiped his mouth and looked out the window. Sure enough, the wind had finally calmed and the snow lessened so he could actually see his backyard again. He had hardly noticed as he spoke to Emmy.
Should he invite her to join him in the front room? The last thing he wanted was a neighbor to see them alone together—yet, he didn’t want to hide her and lie. Everyone would eventually know.
“Would you care to join me?” he asked.
She also wiped her lips, but shook her head. “I’ll stay here and finish my breakfast.”
He left the kitchen, being sure to close the door behind him, and entered the front room.
The knock came again, this time with more force.
Ben pulled the door open and found Mr. Samuelson on his front porch.
“Ahh, Reverend Lahaye.” Mr. Samuelson walked into Ben’s house without invitation and clapped his mitted hands together. “Is Mr. Wilkes here? Did he arrive safely?”
“Come in, Mr. Samuelson.” Ben closed the door behind him, glancing toward the kitchen. The superintendent lived about two blocks east of Ben. He was a widower with five
