Chapter Twenty-nine #2
“Visitor or not, I am here now, and I am standing between you and the children that I care about.” She pushed past Miss Groves, careful to keep the paddle out of reach. She looked over the sea of frightened, pleading eyes. “I think school is out for the day. What do you children think?”
Their expressions transformed. Grins appeared. Cheers filled the school room.
“Come along, then, children,” Emma said. “Let’s get all of you sorted. Which of you is usually fetched by your parents because you live too far away?”
She could hear Miss Groves’ sputtering objections behind her as she, the Pied Piper of Hope Springs, led the children away. She didn’t care.
Yes, she might be little more than a visitor, and yes, she was absolutely interfering in a classroom she promised not to interfere with. But absolutely no one would be permitted to hurt these children.
Heavens, if she thought this town wanted anything to do with the girl who had cost them Marianne Johnson, who had caused Finbarr’s loss of sight, the mutilation of Katie’s hands, the scars they all bore from that horrible, horrible day ten years earlier, she would have simply seized control of the classroom and tossed Miss Groves out on her ear.
Hiding the horrid woman’s weapons was the best she could manage.
With the help of some of the older students, they were able to sort out who could walk home, who could walk home if one of the older children accompanied them, and those few who lived so far out on the edges of the roads that they would need to be driven home.
They had it all worked out, with the children on their way other than those few who would need to be driven home when Sybil and Ivy returned with the wagon.
“What’s happened?” Ivy said, eyeing the stragglers. Her gaze rested an extra moment on Emma’s face, which was likely a good indication that she was scowling.
“I’m afraid I found myself the leader of a rebellion,” Emma said. She had tucked Miss Groves’ paddle into the large pocket of her coat, hoping to spare the children the sight of it. She reassured herself it was still there and couldn’t be used against them.
“A rebellion?” Sybil asked with a laugh.
“Would the two of you be willing to transport these lovely little ones to their homes? They’re on the far end of the Irish Road and the Red Road.”
“Of course,” Ivy said. “We’ll actually hop over to Callaghan’s. If Aidan’s at home, I imagine he’d take those needing to go to the edge of the Irish road so we can take the others down the Red. That’ll speed things up.”
“May we go too?” Sean asked, standing next to Rigger, both of them looking absolutely delighted with how the day had played out.
“That depends,” Ivy said, as Sybil and Emma handed the other children up into the wagon. “Did you help facilitate this rebellion?”
Sean looked over at Emma, as did Rigger.
“My two most useful generals,” Emma declared.
The boys grinned broadly, looking utterly proud of themselves.
“There’s always room in the wagon for generals,” Sybil declared.
The boys scrambled up and sat in the back amongst the other children and the barrel of flour and bag of beans.
“Thank you,” Emma said.
“Promise you’ll explain to me what all this is about?” Ivy requested.
Emma nodded. “I promise.”
The wagon rolled along, and Emma followed.
“A rebellion,” she whispered to herself. Overthrowing a school room was not at all what she’d intended to do with her day. And Miss Groves was unlikely to be kind about it.
Emma hadn’t grown entirely at ease with what she’d done by the time she reached her parents’ house.
Papa was on the town council, so when he next crossed her path, she’d have to explain herself.
She didn’t truly think the town council would object to her intervention, but they were going to have to deal with the chaos it was bound to create, and she wasn’t certain they would appreciate that.
She stepped up onto the porch and reached for the door handle. Before she could grasp hold of it, though, a voice sounded from behind her.
“I should have known you would do something like this.” Miss Groves.
Emma turned to face her. “‘Something like this’? Objecting to you striking children?”
“It is not an uncommon practice. Those teachers who refuse to employ it usually run chaotic classrooms. Judging by the mayhem you caused today, I can only imagine what a disaster you were as a teacher.” She made the observation as if that would hurt Emma’s feelings enough to make her regret having intervened.
“You truly think I acted out of jealousy or wounded pride?”
“I know you think you’re better than I am,” Miss Groves said. “But I have never stolen anything from a fellow teacher.”
“You truly have no comprehension of what would motivate a person to do what I did?”
“I have no comprehension of what makes you think you are the queen of this place. Waltzing in after, by everyone’s admission, you’ve been gone for years without a visit, without word, without caring at all about the people you left behind, and then pretending to be important to them and—”
“I think that’s quite enough, Miss Groves.” Finbarr’s voice interrupted.
Emma glanced back over her shoulder and found that the front door had been opened in the midst of this, and Finbarr stood in the threshold.
“When you hear what she has done, you will not wish to be her champion any longer,” Miss Groves insisted.
“On the contrary,” Finbarr said. “I would walk through purgatory itself if Emma Archer needed me to.”
Emma didn’t look back at Miss Groves to see if she’d been cowed. I would walk through purgatory itself if Emma Archer needed me to. Had he truly said that? Did he mean it?
“I know you’ve been provided with very fine accommodations at the teacher’s house,” Finbarr said. “Perhaps you ought to make use of it.”
Behind Emma, Miss Groves’ angry footsteps echoed off the porch.
Emma took the two steps to where Finbarr stood and wrapped her arms around him.
He didn’t hesitate to put his arms around her as well.
From the moment he’d begun doing that in his house during the snowstorm, his arms had felt peaceful and safe in a way nothing had in ten years.
And her heart had wrapped itself around the feel of his embrace.
“What has the teacher’s back up so much?” he asked.
“I stole her paddle.”
“Why does she have a paddle?”
“Some teachers don’t know how to manage a classroom without fear or pain.”
She felt him stiffen. Please don’t let go.
“She’s been hitting the children?” Finbarr asked quietly.
“At the very least, she’s been threatening to. I could see in their eyes that they’re afraid of her. I couldn’t bear it. She already disliked me. I’m certain she now considers me her actual enemy. I can only imagine the things she’s going to say now.”
“She knows you stole her paddle?”
“The entire school knows I stole her paddle,” Emma said. “I stole it during school, in her classroom. I dared her to tattle on me, then I declared school out for the day and sent the children home.”
“They were delighted, I’d imagine.”
She leaned back enough to tip her head up and look at him. “I am going to tell the town council about this. They’ll likely fire her, but with so much snow having recently fallen, she can’t leave the valley for at least another week or two. That’s going to make things uncomfortable for everyone.”
He lifted one arm and tentatively brushed the heel of his palm along her cheek. He had never done that before. Heavens, she liked it.
“Knowing all that,” he said, “and that she’s likely to be a rather miserable person to be around for the next while, was it worth it?”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Emma said.
Finbarr bent and pressed the lightest of kisses to her forehead. Her heart leapt into her throat, pounding out a surprised and excited rhythm. “Hope Springs’ Angel of Mercy.”
Emma closed her eyes as a smile spread over her face. “Maybe I should give you the paddle so you can carve it into something else.”
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Otherwise Hope Springs’ Angel is likely to take the paddle and beat the tar out of Hope Springs’ teacher.”
Finbarr laughed out loud, and the sound of it wrapped itself around her heart. She set a hand on his chest, feeling it rumble with his laugh.
“It’s so good to hear your laughter again,” she said. “It was gone for far too long.”
“As was yours, mo sholas.” He set his hand atop hers and stepped back out of her embrace.
But he kept hold of her hand and walked with her back inside.
“Now, why don’t you sit and have a moment’s peace.
I happen to know that one member of the town council lives in this house, and I think he’d very much like to hear what happened at the school today. ”
He let go of her hand as they reached the doorway to the parlor. She stepped inside, but he didn’t follow.
“Your papa is going to drive me back to my house. My family hasn’t tamped down the river road yet, so I need to accept transportation when it’s offered.” He gave a quick smile. “But when he gets back, I think you should tell him what happened.”
“I will.”
She wanted to ask him if he would stay with her.
But she knew he couldn’t leave or return to his house without help.
Every year, after both the first heavy snow and any particularly fierce storms that followed, his family took time pressing down and clearing snow on the river road to make a walkable path for him. They apparently hadn’t done that yet.
He must have felt trapped, and it likely only added to his feeling of living in a place not made for him, not safe for him. She wanted to hug him and tell him he belonged. That he belonged with her.