Tomorrow's Garden (33 page)

Lawrence stared at the papers on his desk, laying the judge’s telegram on top, trying to ignore the fact that he had a prisoner in his jail. He would be thankful when the judge arrived and he could put the whole incident behind him. Things certainly hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected. Instead of telling Harriet he loved her and wanted to court her, Lawrence had wound up angering her.

He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. From Harriet’s reaction, it appeared that he’d done more than anger her. Though he’d been too tired to recognize it at the time, there had been fear on her face—stark, undeniable terror. It was only afterward, when he’d replayed the scene for what seemed like the hundredth time, that he’d realized what he had seen. If he’d been less tired and frustrated and more aware, he might have acted differently. He couldn’t have agreed not to jail Jake, but he might have provided Harriet with some reassurance.

As it was, no matter what Lawrence wished, it appeared he could not undo the damage. Harriet refused to listen to him. This was worse than the time she’d seen him leaving the saloon. Then she treated him like a stranger. Now it was as if he’d become invisible. When they were together, she somehow managed to look right through him, even though her eyes reflected so much pain that he knew her fears had not subsided.

“She’s afraid we’ll be separated,” Jake said one day when Harriet had left. Though Lawrence had asked no questions, not wanting to take advantage of Jake’s vulnerability, the boy had begun speaking of his family. “I wasn’t supposed to be listening,” Jake admitted, “but I heard her and Ruth talking one day. It seems when our parents died, folks in Fortune thought she was too young to care for us. They were going to send each of us to a different family. Harriet must have fought like a cat to stop that.” Jake frowned. “And then there was Thomas.” Lawrence was tempted to smile at the way Jake spat the name. It appeared he and Harriet’s brother shared at least one thing: contempt for Thomas Bruckner.

“Thomas wanted to marry her,” Jake said, “but he didn’t want us. He said Ruth was old enough to be in charge. Harriet didn’t like that.”

And now she probably feared that the judge would send Jake away. It was in the man’s power. Lawrence knew that, just as he knew he couldn’t let it happen. Fortunately, his word as Ladreville’s sheriff and a former Ranger would hold weight in the sentence, as would the private, informal conversation he planned to have with the judge. One way or another, Lawrence would ensure that the Kirk family remained together. Then he’d do what he could to rebuild Harriet’s trust in him.

“What do you think the judge will say?” Jake asked when Lawrence brought him his midday meal.

“I don’t know.” Lawrence knew what Jake wanted him to say, but he could guarantee nothing. Drawing up a stool, he reached for his own plate. Other sheriffs might frown on it, but he’d taken to eating one meal a day with his prisoner. For a boy Jake’s age to be kept in what was close to solitary confinement had to be difficult. Lawrence would not release him, but there was no statute against a lawman eating with his prisoner, especially when the prisoner had begun to evidence remorse.

As painful as it had been for Jake, it appeared that the stay in jail had changed him. Gone were the defiance and sullen mien. At his own request, Jake spent an hour each day with Sterling, reading the Bible and praying. Though it might have been a ploy for mercy, Sterling believed the changes he and Lawrence observed were real. While it was true that Jake’s feelings toward Karl hadn’t softened, the way he acted on those feelings had.

“I wish I hadn’t done it.” Jake shoveled the stew into his mouth as if he were starving, when it had been only a few hours since he’d eaten a hearty breakfast. “I caused everyone a lot of pain. Harriet, Karl, you.”

Lawrence chewed carefully as he tried to find the right words. Though Jake had admitted his wrongdoing and apologized to Karl, this was the first time he’d recognized the pain he had inflicted. It was a major step forward. Sterling would claim that God was softening Jake’s heart.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it, how one act affects so many and how even the simplest thing can have unplanned repercussions?” Lawrence asked as casually as he could. “My mother used to warn my sister and me to be careful what we said and did. She claimed it was like casting a stone into water. The ripples spread across the pond. They even touch the shores.”

Jake’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know.”

“Miss Kirk! Miss Kirk! You’ve gotta come.” Eva burst through the door to the makeshift classroom, her face red with exertion and excitement. Every day since school had moved to the French church hall, she had been the last to arrive back from the midday recess. Though Harriet suspected she knew what delayed Eva, today was her first confirmation. “The garden’s sprouted.”

Harriet smiled at the knowledge that Eva was inspecting the garden each day. Though she had expected that the rain earlier in the week would hasten the flowers’ emergence, Harriet hadn’t thought it would be so soon. Today was supposed to be Texas history day, but looking at the children’s faces, she knew there was no point in trying to teach this afternoon. All thoughts would be on the germinating seeds.

“All right, children. Let’s go to the garden.”

“Yeah!” The pupils leapt to their feet.

“It’s a miracle.” Marie Seurat stared at the tiny shoots. “They were dead, and now they’re growing.”

“They weren’t really dead,” Harriet explained. “They were dormant.” When the children gave her puzzled looks, she added, “That means sleeping. Now they’re awake.”

Marie shook her head vehemently. “I still think it’s a miracle.”

What was a miracle was the judge’s decision a week later. When he heard all the evidence, he declared that Jake had spent enough time in jail and that no further punishment was necessary other than restitution. Now Jake was home again, sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for supper as if nothing had happened. But it had, and the younger children stared at him, as if searching for visible signs of his incarceration.

“Are you coming back to school?”

Though Mary posed the question, Jake looked at Harriet before he answered. “I still have work to do,” he reminded her. “I need to finish paying for the buggy seats. And then there’s the barn. I haven’t told the Friedrichs, but I want to paint it when I’ve paid for the damages.”

Harriet wanted to shout with joy at the realization that one of her prayers had been answered. Jake had changed. The judge had not stipulated anything more than payment for the damage done to the barn, but Jake was volunteering to do more. Her brother was growing up.

Keeping her face as neutral as she could, Harriet said, “You can do lessons at night.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Aw, Harriet.”

Some things would never change.

Karl looked different tonight. It wasn’t simply the fresh haircut or the carefully trimmed beard. Though normally relaxed, tonight he appeared almost ill at ease. Harriet wondered if that was because he knew that Jake was in the house. Karl alone of the people who had stood in Lawrence’s office as the judge made his decision had appeared unhappy. Though she suspected his spirits—and perhaps his opinion of Jake—would rise if he knew that her brother planned to do more than replace the contents of the barn, she would say nothing. When and how Karl learned that was up to her brother.

“Sit down, Karl.” Harriet motioned him to one of the comfortable chairs, hoping that would ease whatever was bothering him. As usual, as soon as he had knocked on the door, the rest of the family had left. Ruth remained in the far corner of the parlor for propriety’s sake, but the younger children fled upstairs.

Karl looked around, as if assuring himself that they would not be overheard, but instead of relaxing, he gripped the chair arms for a moment, then leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands around one knee. It was a gesture Harriet had never seen him make. Something was different, decidedly different, tonight.

“You must know that I admire you,” Karl said, looking directly at her, his light blue eyes shining with conviction. “You’re a strong woman, Harriet. The way you raised your siblings tells me you would be a fine mother. Mutter says you’re a fast learner and could be a good cook.”

Harriet tried not to frown. Though she hadn’t really believed Karl was courting her, his behavior tonight made her wonder if that was the case. But what a strange way to start. Why, it sounded as if he were evaluating her the way he would a hog or a cow he was considering purchasing. Surely that was not the prelude to a declaration of tender feelings. Though Harriet had no way of reading what was inside his heart, Karl’s words were not those of a man who cared deeply, and his voice held none of the warmth Gunther’s betrayed when he spoke to Isabelle. Harriet was mistaken. She must be.

Karl cleared his throat, then stroked his beard in his habitual gesture. “What I’m trying to say is, I believe we’re suited to each other. Will you be my wife?”

For a second Harriet could not speak. Once again she had been wrong. Karl
was
courting her, and now she had to refuse him. If only she’d paid more attention to Ruth and Isabelle, she might have prevented this.

No!
she wanted to shriek.
I will not marry you
. But a blunt refusal would hurt Karl’s feelings. As she recalled the kindness his family had shown her, Harriet knew she could not hurt Karl. Somehow she had to find a way to preserve his dignity. “I’m sorry, Karl,” she said at last. “I’m not ready to marry.”

The frown that crossed his face said he hadn’t expected her refusal. “Why not?”

So many reasons
.
I don’t love you. You don’t love me. We’re too different to get along together. I have responsibilities to my family.
The determination in Karl’s eyes told Harriet he would argue, no matter which of those excuses she cited, and so she seized on the one he could not dispute. “I need to finish my contract.”

“Olga Kaltheimer would take over.”

How often would she be wrong? Karl could dispute even that reason. “I made a commitment to finish this year,” she said, “and I plan to honor that. Besides, I’d like to teach at least one year in the new school.” It would be her school, just as the first one had been Sarah’s.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” When Harriet did not reply, Karl said, “If you’re worried about your brothers and sisters, there’s a place for them on the farm too. If Jake agrees to behave, he can work with the horses. I can teach the younger boys how to raise crops, and the little girl can learn to cook.”

Mary. Her name is Mary.
If Harriet had had any doubts at the wisdom of refusing Karl’s proposal, the way he had referred to her siblings, almost as if he were hiring servants, would have quashed them. “I’m sorry, Karl,” she said firmly, “but I cannot marry you.”

Though his lips twisted in obvious disapproval, his voice was calm as he said, “I can see that this came as a surprise. I will let you think about my proposal. We will not speak of it for a month. By then you will have had time to reconsider.”

Harriet shook her head, not wanting to encourage him. A month, a year, a lifetime. It would make no difference, and it would only be cruel to offer hope when there was none. “I don’t need more time.” Though it might be harsh, she had to tell him the truth. “I like you, Karl, but I don’t love you.”