Page 22 of The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1)

“You’re a very big girl,” I said. “And big girls don’t make a fuss.”

Fiona continued to scowl but consoled herself with another piece of toast and jam.

Cymbeline tapped my forearm. “Do you see this?” With her other hand, she raised her fork to her mouth and took a bite of eggs.

“Good girl,” I said. “I can practically see you growing.”

Cymbeline grinned and took another bite.

“And you?” I asked Josephine. “Books, I’m guessing.”

“That’s correct.” She lifted her pointy chin and granted me a prim smile. “One can go anywhere in a book.”

“In case you want to know, I’m the animal type,” Flynn said. “And the type who doesn’t want to go to school when there’s adventures out there.” He pointed toward the window.

“School can be an adventure,” I said. “Learning new things brings adventure, anyway. You can’t expect to go out into the world without knowing how to read, write, and do arithmetic.”

Flynn sighed. “If you say so.”

“I like books,” Theo said. “Animals do not smell good. I have a sensitive nose.”

I laughed. A sensitive nose? Where had he heard that from?

“What about you, Miss Cooper?” Flynn asked.

“I happen to like both,” I said.

“Just like Papa,” Josephine said. “What a great coincidence.”

Chapter 6

Alexander

* * *

After breakfast, I shooed the children out of the dining room. I needed to talk to Miss Cooper about last night for several reasons, the most important of which was to ask if she remembered seeing anything before or after the gunshots. Harley had not, remembering only the shot and then trying to control the horses. The Higgins brothers had come along minutes after the crash. They’d been at the station to pick up an item sent from Denver. Harley had seen them arrive as he left with Miss Cooper. This kept them from being suspects in the murder of Samuel Cole.

I looked at Miss Cooper from across the table, helpless as to how to start. Weariness washed over me like a series of waves. I wished for my bed. I wished I didn’t have to go into town and tell everyone at church that my neighbor was murdered in his own yard. I wished Miss Cooper would remain ignorant of the dark undercurrents of our community.

Just tell her directly, I thought. She’s not a child. “The gunshots that scared the horses were directed at my friend and neighbor. He was found by his wife minutes later dead near his woodshed. Two bullet wounds through his chest killed him.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “No.”

“He left behind a wife and three young children. Someone in this town murdered him.”

“But why? Who would do such a thing?” she asked.

“Do you remember seeing anyone during the drive?”

“No, it was dark, and I was sleepy. I didn’t wake up until the shots rang out.” She hesitated. “They did seem close, though.”

“You were near his place. If the weather hadn’t been so bad, you would have seen the lights from his house.”

“I wish I could help,” she said. “When did you find out?”

I told her about Rachel showing up at my door. I left it at that. She didn’t need to know how we’d spent the night shoveling away snow and then digging into the cold ground.

“I don’t want this to scare you,” I said.