huh?”
Kristian’s face lit up like a beacon and he shuffled his feet. “It won’t take long, and I’ll hurry back to the field soon as I get her there.”
“You do that. It’ll save me the trouble.” And without another word, he left the house. Linnea’s glare followed him out the door, and when she turned, she found Nissa watching her shrewdly. But all Nissa said was, “You’ll need cleaning suppliesand a ladder to reach them windows, and I packed you a lunch. I’ll get it.”
Kristian drove her to school in the same wagon she’d ridden in before. They hadn’t gone twenty feet down the road before Linnea totally forgot about Theodore. It was a heavenly morning. The sun was up a finger’s width above the horizon, peering from behind a narrow strip of purple that dissected it like a bright ribbon, making it appear all the more orange as its golden rays radiated above and below. Its oblique angle lit the tops of the grain fields to a lustrous gold, making the wheat appear a solid mass, unmoving now in the windlessness of early day. The air was fragrant with the smell of it. And all was still — so still. The call of a meadowlark came lilting to them with clarion precision and the horses perked up their ears, but moved on as before, their rhythm never changing. In a field on the left several sunflowers lifted their golden heads.
“Oh look!” She pointed. “Sunflowers. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Kristian eyed her askance. For a schoolteacher, she didn’t know much about sunflowers. “My pa cusses ‘em.”
She turned to him, startled. “Whatever for? Look at them, taller than all the rest, lifting their faces to the sun.”
“They’re pests around here. Get ‘em in a wheat field, and you’ll never get rid of ‘em.”
“Oh.”
They rode on. After a minute she said, “I guess I have a lot to learn about farms and such. I may have to rely on you to teach me.”
“Me!” He turned amazed brown eyes on her.
“Well, would you mind?”
“But you’re the teacher.”
“In school. Out of school, I guess there’s a lot I can learn from you. What’s that?”
“Russian thistle,” he answered, following the path of her finger to a patch of pale-greenish blossoms.
“Ah.” She digested that a moment before adding, “Don’t tell me. Theodore cusses it too, right?”
“It’s more of a pest than sunflowers,” he verified.
Her eyes strayed behind, lingering on the blossoms as the wagon passed. “But there’s beauty to be found in many things,even when they’re pests. We just have to take a second look. Perhaps I’ll have the children paint pictures of Russian thistle before winter comes.”
Me didn’t quite know what to make of a girl — a woman? — who thought Russian thistle was pretty. He’d heard it damned all his life. Oddly enough, he found himself craning to look back at it. When she caught him, she smiled brightly and he felt confused. “That there’s John’s place,” he offered as they passed it.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I got aunts and uncles and cousins scattered all over around here,” he volunteered, surprising himself because he’d always been tongue-tied around girls before. But he found he enjoyed talking to her. “About twenty of ‘em or so, not counting the greats.”
“The greats?”
“Great aunts and uncles. Got a few of them, too.”
“Crimany!” she exclaimed. “Twenty?”
His head snapped around in surprise and he smiled wide. He hadn’t imagined a schoolteacher saying crimany that way.
Realizing what she’d said, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Realizing she’d clapped a hand over her mouth, she dropped it, looked at her lap, and nervously smoothed her skirt. “I guess I have to watch myself, don’t I? Sometimes I forget I’m the teacher now.”
And for the moment, Kristian forgot, too. She was only a girl he wanted to help down from a wagon when they drew up in the schoolyard. But he’d never done it before and
Kristian’s face lit up like a beacon and he shuffled his feet. “It won’t take long, and I’ll hurry back to the field soon as I get her there.”
“You do that. It’ll save me the trouble.” And without another word, he left the house. Linnea’s glare followed him out the door, and when she turned, she found Nissa watching her shrewdly. But all Nissa said was, “You’ll need cleaning suppliesand a ladder to reach them windows, and I packed you a lunch. I’ll get it.”
Kristian drove her to school in the same wagon she’d ridden in before. They hadn’t gone twenty feet down the road before Linnea totally forgot about Theodore. It was a heavenly morning. The sun was up a finger’s width above the horizon, peering from behind a narrow strip of purple that dissected it like a bright ribbon, making it appear all the more orange as its golden rays radiated above and below. Its oblique angle lit the tops of the grain fields to a lustrous gold, making the wheat appear a solid mass, unmoving now in the windlessness of early day. The air was fragrant with the smell of it. And all was still — so still. The call of a meadowlark came lilting to them with clarion precision and the horses perked up their ears, but moved on as before, their rhythm never changing. In a field on the left several sunflowers lifted their golden heads.
“Oh look!” She pointed. “Sunflowers. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Kristian eyed her askance. For a schoolteacher, she didn’t know much about sunflowers. “My pa cusses ‘em.”
She turned to him, startled. “Whatever for? Look at them, taller than all the rest, lifting their faces to the sun.”
“They’re pests around here. Get ‘em in a wheat field, and you’ll never get rid of ‘em.”
“Oh.”
They rode on. After a minute she said, “I guess I have a lot to learn about farms and such. I may have to rely on you to teach me.”
“Me!” He turned amazed brown eyes on her.
“Well, would you mind?”
“But you’re the teacher.”
“In school. Out of school, I guess there’s a lot I can learn from you. What’s that?”
“Russian thistle,” he answered, following the path of her finger to a patch of pale-greenish blossoms.
“Ah.” She digested that a moment before adding, “Don’t tell me. Theodore cusses it too, right?”
“It’s more of a pest than sunflowers,” he verified.
Her eyes strayed behind, lingering on the blossoms as the wagon passed. “But there’s beauty to be found in many things,even when they’re pests. We just have to take a second look. Perhaps I’ll have the children paint pictures of Russian thistle before winter comes.”
Me didn’t quite know what to make of a girl — a woman? — who thought Russian thistle was pretty. He’d heard it damned all his life. Oddly enough, he found himself craning to look back at it. When she caught him, she smiled brightly and he felt confused. “That there’s John’s place,” he offered as they passed it.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I got aunts and uncles and cousins scattered all over around here,” he volunteered, surprising himself because he’d always been tongue-tied around girls before. But he found he enjoyed talking to her. “About twenty of ‘em or so, not counting the greats.”
“The greats?”
“Great aunts and uncles. Got a few of them, too.”
“Crimany!” she exclaimed. “Twenty?”
His head snapped around in surprise and he smiled wide. He hadn’t imagined a schoolteacher saying crimany that way.
Realizing what she’d said, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Realizing she’d clapped a hand over her mouth, she dropped it, looked at her lap, and nervously smoothed her skirt. “I guess I have to watch myself, don’t I? Sometimes I forget I’m the teacher now.”
And for the moment, Kristian forgot, too. She was only a girl he wanted to help down from a wagon when they drew up in the schoolyard. But he’d never done it before and
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