Chapter 10
THE NEXT DAY…
Archie walked into Reverend Mason’s rectory at precisely one o’clock as requested by the missive he’d received that morning.
He knew what the meeting would be about; there simply wasn’t anything else for them to discuss until he officially took over as headmaster—which now seemed would never come to pass.
He sighed softly. He’d given up so much in order to achieve his dream. True, most of it unknowingly—Gertie and Sam—but they were sacrifices, nonetheless. And now it would all be for naught.
He knocked on the Reverend’s office door and waited.
“Please come in, Mr. Goodman.” The Reverend’s voice carried through the oak door, a simple construction with iron bands around the top and bottom to hold the planks together and iron hinges.
Archie couldn’t help but wonder how old the door was.
He’d walked through it many times as a boy when he was called to task by his guardian Reverend Goodman for one thing or another.
Typically some mischief he’d gotten into with Gertie.
“Thank you for joining me today.” Reverend Mason stood behind his desk and waved a hand toward the oak chair on the other side which Archie was all too familiar with. It was hard and unforgiving, much like its previous owner.
He could admit that now. Reverend Goodman had been a stern man.
His guardian had meant well, or so Archie had always told himself.
The man had given him a home, fed him, educated him.
Afforded him opportunities he would not have had in a foundling home.
Unfortunately, that all came with a stern disciplinarian style that was more focused on birching and a great deal of prayer than any real understanding.
Archie was not a devout man, but he’d come to terms with what he thought was God’s plan—or Fate’s, at any rate.
Who was he to say who was pulling the strings in his life? Some days it seemed it certainly wasn’t him.
Today was one of those days.
Archie sat and tried to pull his focus to the man currently in the room. It was hard, with the rectory holding so much of his personal history. “Thank you, Reverend.”
“Mr. Goodman, I shall not dilly-dally about, I am afraid I am going to have to revoke our offer of employment as Headmaster of Rivenhall.” Reverend Mason heaved a heavy sigh.
“It has come to my attention that you have acted immorally in this very town, and as a result could be considered unfit to teach our children.”
Silence hung in the air.
There it was. Archie had known this was coming, and it had not made the deathblow any easier to stomach.
What did one say in response to such a statement?
I’m sorry I was young and na?ve? “I do understand your position, Reverend, though I would like to perhaps shed some light on the truth of the matter in question.”
It was a shot in the dark, but he had to explain the circumstances.
The Reverend hesitated, but only for a moment. “Well?”
As Archie related the tale of what had happened, he could see the sympathy in the Reverend’s face, and hope glowed, a small ember in his chest. Once he was done explaining all that had occurred to bring them to this point, he stopped talking and waited.
And waited.
Finally, the Reverend cleared his throat.
“Thank you for sharing your burden with me, Mr. Goodman. I am sorry to hear such a sad tale. Though I shall point out, that the—uh, inciting incident—is still a truly scandalous event, however many years ago it occurred. We expect our headmaster to be a paragon of virtue and of good moral fiber to set the best example for our students.”
Although he’d known this was coming, disappointment speared into Archie’s heart. “I see. Well, Reverend, I appreciated the opportunity to both take the position and to explain what transpired.” He stood, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I…I don’t suppose that you and the woman in question, Mrs. Sutton, are considering marriage at this point?” The Reverend’s soothing tones poked at the one sore spot in the whole mess.
Archie’s spirits sank even lower. Gertie was now a fiercely independent woman who valued her freedom as a widow and business owner.
When he’d hinted at the possibility of them renewing their relationship, she had clearly indicated that while she was perfectly willing to warm his bed; she was not interested in giving up the freedom she had gained as a widow.
“I am afraid that is not a possibility.”
“Then I would encourage you both to seek forgiveness from God.” Reverend Mason intoned. “And in so doing, consider marrying.”
“We shall take that under advisement. Thank you Reverend.”
Archie left the rectory with a heavy heart. The only other school in Rivenhall was a newly established boarding school, but their headmaster had only been hired two years prior when the school was established under the new Forster Act. There was little hope of Archie finding employment there.
He began walking through the town, trying to consider what he might do next.
As he walked and thought, his mind couldn’t help but drift to the two most important people: his son Sam, and of course, Gertie.
He did not wish to leave them, but there were no other schools large enough to hire a headteacher for miles around, so he would have to look for employment further afield—which unfortunately meant he would not be able to remain in their lives as he wished.
As he turned the problem over in his head, Archie continued to walk.
He’d lost track of the time, but could see the sun was sitting very low in the sky when he realized he stood in front of Sutton’s Bakery.
With a sigh, he walked into the shop to find the very two people he’d been thinking about hard at work near the end of their day.
“How did your conversation with the Reverend go?” Gertie looked at him with warmth. It was a far better welcome than she’d offered him a few weeks prior when he’d first walked into her shop, but it was still not the loving embrace he’d hoped for.
Longed for.
Sam simply nodded in greeting. He’d taken the news of their relationship well enough, though the young man had not warmed to Archie any more than he had initially.
“As I expected. My employment has been terminated.” Archie uttered the words and it felt real for the first time since he’d left the rectory. Something about voicing the words made it so.
“Oh, Archie. I am so sorry.” Gertie came around the shop counter and hugged him.
As inappropriate as it was, his body could not help but take notice. He truly missed touching her. Loving her. “I shall have to cast a wider search if I am to find a position as a teacher, let alone a headmaster.”
“Was there no way to make things right?” Gertie asked softly.
Perhaps he was being foolish, but it did sound as though she was a touch wistful. Could she want him to stay? To continue to renew their acquaintance? “He…he did ask if we were planning to marry to make the situation right.”
Exactly as he had feared, Gertie stepped back and heaved a great sigh. “I suppose that is how the church would see it. But I won’t marry again for anything less than love.”
She cast a glance over her shoulder at Sam and Archie imagined there was some silent apology or question that passed between them because Sam nodded as though in answer.
“I told him that was not an option,” Archie said simply. He wished it was. Truly he did, but he would not put his own desires before Gertie’s again. This was his penance to pay for his previous failures.
“Yes, well. Perhaps something will come about?” Gertie dragged her hands down the skirt of her apron and retreated behind the counter again.
Suddenly, a deep pang of fear ripped through Archie. Was he making the same mistake again? Was he not choosing her over his career? Was he going to go off and look for a position as a headmaster and once again leave Gertie behind? And this time his son as well?
He looked at Sam, who stared at him with indifferent eyes, as though he could come or go as he pleased. The young man turned around and busied himself.
He was his father. Yes, they’d only just met, but the lad should want him to stay. Archie should want to as well—and he did! But could he give up everything to stay for the people he loved?
God, he was a bloody fool!
Archie felt it to his very bones in that moment. Just like he had done all those years ago, he was walking away from the woman he loved again. No! “Gertie, I don’t want to leave.” He’d blurted the words out before he’d fully grasped what he was saying.
There was a flicker of movement behind the counter as she set a tray down. Behind her in the shadows, Sam shifted as though he’d turned around to listen.
“Then don’t.” Gertie wouldn’t look up at him.
“No, I mean, I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave our son. I love you, Gertie.” Archie stepped behind the counter and reached for her—
But Gertie shuffled back out of his reach. “No, don’t Archie. I can’t be in love with you again. It will break me when you leave.” The pleading in her voice made him stop.
“I just said I don’t want to leave.” Confusion and fear slammed into Archie, nearly buckling his knees.
“You said you don’t want to, not that you wouldn’t. You left before, Archie Goodman, and I—I won’t risk you going again.” Gertie spun around, tears sparkling in her eyes, and ran up the stairs to her lodgings.
Archie stood there, a jumbled mess of emotions. Fear he’d lost her again, hope she felt the same as he did, and joy he knew what he needed to do. Not necessarily how he would do it, but he was clear on what. He needed to stay in Rivenhall, and he needed to win Gertie’s heart. “Sam, I—”
“Perhaps it’s best you go.” Sam looked at him, his gaze shuttered. The wariness and reticence were obvious; he expected Archie to leave Rivenhall as well.
“I’ll go for now but I shall be back in the morning. Tell your mother to be ready to go for a drive—and just to be clear, I am not leaving Rivenhall. Not now. Not ever again. This is home. You two are home.” Archie retreated, giving the pair of them the space they needed.
Now he had to plan how he was going to win Gertie’s heart.