Corn Silk Days Part 2

She raised her eyes to his. "Don't be," she said. "It is behind me. I don't look back. I only look to the future."

"What do you see in your future?"

She smiled. "Full time teaching again. My own schoolhouse and maybe, uh, maybe someone like you."

His shoulders dropped in relaxation. "Like me?"

"Like you."

He smiled broadly. "You don't even know me."

She laughed. "I know you better than you think, James Garrison. I found out every detail I could from your favorite professor. And then when I saw you I knew all I needed to know."

"Funny. I thought I knew you too, as an angel from heaven."

Her eyes danced as she said, "Maybe I am."

He smiled. "Will you have supper with me?"

"Do you cook?"

She had just thrown him an unexpected challenge and he felt a little disconcerted. To cover his unfamiliar nervousness he reached for another book. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with her but he also wanted to be proper. He wondered how many people around here might know she was a married woman.

He asked, "Where do you live?"

"Des Moines. I've been there with an aunt since I left my husband in Pennsylvania last year."

"Where are you staying here in town?"

"At the hotel. I've had a room there for a couple of days. I have to head back to Des Moines next Wednesday."

"Would you rather have supper at the hotel?"

She laughed. "James, are you worried about my reputation or yours?"

He shrugged. "Not mine," he said and then added, "But yes, yours."

Her eyes were unflinching as they met his. "You really don't need to worry about mine," she said.

He wondered if she really meant that. Not wanting to put her in any sort of embarra.s.sing situation yet longing to have her come to supper at his home, he said, "Lucinda, it is entirely up to you. I would be happy to have you come to my place, but only if you are comfortable with that."

She was pensive only a moment and said, "James, I want to go home with you."

"All right."

"Would you mind if I brought my things at the hotel with me?"

James felt his heart leap at the suggestion. He smiled warmly and said, "Of course not."

A few minutes later, Lucinda returned to the hotel to pick up her belongings and met James on the road to his farm. The sun was sliding down in the sky and a soft breeze was blowing across the prairie. She maneuvered the horse and buggy under a tree near the front of his farmhouse. James unhitched her horse and led him into the corral, and took his own horse into the barn. He filled the troughs with hay and pumped fresh water for the horses. His farm hand was finis.h.i.+ng up the ch.o.r.es for the day.

Lucinda leaned against the tree, enjoying the canopy of shade as she watched James. He retrieved a bucket from the barn and filled it with fresh water. He set it aside, removed his s.h.i.+rt, and afternoon sun glistened off his tanned skin. He had broad shoulders, was well-muscled, trim and fit. He washed up and then joined her.

"There will be fresh water for you in the house if you want to freshen up," he told her as he joined her.

"Thank you, that would be nice," she said. James pulled her luggage from the buggy and they walked together toward the farm house.

Lucinda was impressed with his home and said so. His house was clean and well-kept. He put her luggage in a guest room, a small room with a bed, chest of drawers and a chair. She took off her hat and placed it on the foot of the bed. James went into his room and returned wearing a clean long sleeved s.h.i.+rt, open at the neck and tucked into his pants.

In the kitchen, s.h.i.+ny kettles hung from a beam and there was the aroma of coffee and spices. In the center of the kitchen table was a vase filled with flowers. The living room had a fireplace with a large brightly colored rug on the floor in front of it. Everywhere Lucinda looked there was evidence of an obviously cultured man. The walls were lined with wooden shelves loaded with books-books of philosophy, poetry, science, politics and cla.s.sics. The list of authors was extensive: Plato, Franklin, Paine, Emerson, Poe, Th.o.r.eau, Burns, Longfellow, Whitman, Bancroft, Browning, Melville, Hawthorne, and d.i.c.kens, among others, and she was quite impressed as she had read some of their writings herself. Several paintings and prints hung on the walls along with political posters.

While James started supper, Lucinda browsed through the book shelves. She opened a book by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and noticed that verses were underlined and comments written in the margins. "You must like poetry, James," she commented.

"I love it," he answered.

Atop a desk were several copies of the ChicaG.o.democrat, the Philadelphia Press, and the New York Herald. Lucinda glanced at the headlines on several copies. A pile of student school papers were stacked alongside the newspapers and she looked through them.

"Your students seem pretty bright," she told him. "They do good work. They must have a good teacher."

"I learned a lot about teaching from Professor Cramer and a few of the others I studied with. A good teacher has to spark enthusiasm in his students. They have to enjoy learning or you lose them. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, you're right."

"When I got my certification I vowed I would only teach if I enjoyed it. If I ever get to the place where it becomes just a dreaded job, I will quit."

"Then what would you do?" she asked.

"Maybe go off for an adventure on the high seas," he teased. "Do you like teaching?"

"I love it. I really want to get back to it full time. I needed this second job to get on my feet after the divorce. It really is my dream to have my own school."

He said, "Then marry me and we'll build our own schoolhouse."

She laughed, very much enjoying his enthusiasm.

He continued. "You can teach the little ones and I'll teach the older ones. We can teach our way. We can make it a subscription school and offer more than the regular schools."

She walked up behind him at the stove and put her arms around his waist and sunk into him. "James Garrison, I may take you up on that."

He put down the spatula, turned around and drew her into his arms. He tilted her face upward and kissed her, at first softly and then again, unleas.h.i.+ng a mutual hunger that had been quietly awaiting this moment. It was only the sizzle of the potatoes frying that interrupted their kiss.

Lucinda laughed as he broke the embrace and tended the potatoes. She said, "I'll get out of the kitchen and let the cook, cook."

He laughed and winked. "Maybe that would be a good idea unless you want burnt potatoes."

As they enjoyed supper together, Lucinda complimented him on his cooking. He had fried up onions with the potatoes and eggs and served them with bread and fresh b.u.t.ter.

Lucinda asked, "You didn't bake this bread, did you?"

He chuckled. "No, that comes from my sister-in-law, Mary. She and my brother Robert have the next farm over."

After dinner they washed the dishes and then went out for a leisurely walk. James had always enjoyed spring evenings such as this when temperatures were mild and pleasant and the air filled with the faint fragrance of blooming flowers and freshly turned rich earth but the beauty of the outdoors that he had always enjoyed so much was now overshadowed by the beauty of the woman who walked beside him. G.o.d, she looked good. He watched the light breeze softly moving her hair and the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke. He had no doubt. He was in love. It had happened suddenly and without warning the moment he had looked up and saw her standing before him in his cla.s.sroom.

They returned to the house just at sunset. They talked nonstop about everything and anything. James discovered that Lucinda had been teaching for several years, just as he had. She spoke of her marriage and the abuse she had suffered during the two years she had been with her husband and told him she had gained the courage to leave him after his last beating caused her to miscarry.

"I'm only telling you all the sordid details of my marriage so I never have to talk about it again," she said. "So if there is anything else you want to know, ask now."

James remained silent. He got up from the sofa and went to the fireplace and prepared a fire. He placed three large logs on the grate, threw in kindling and lit it. When the fire was burning hot, he returned to Lucinda's side. He gently pulled her into his arms and tenderly said, "I am so sorry, Lucinda. No one will ever treat you like that again. Never."

As he held her, she began to cry. He stroked her hair and rocked her in his arms. "Never, ever," he promised.

They made love. A soft gentle love, yet filled with the deepest pa.s.sions and emotions.

She lay in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He gently caressed her face. He said softly, "Lucinda, you have no idea how I have been waiting for this. And I had no idea how delicious it could be. My dreams never came close to this."

She murmured, "Oh, James, it's beautiful."

"Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling."

She responded, "I know, I know."

He chuckled softly. "The poets have not even been able to describe it. This is an awakening, a merging of our souls."

They both became lost in quiet moments, no need for further words. James was aware of the fire crackling and the heat it was putting out. And he was also aware of the heat and warmth of their naked bodies.

He pulled her tighter into him, his hand moving across her body, caressing gently, softly, and she covered his hand with hers and followed the movement on her body, and she responded with a pa.s.sion that again matched his.

He was no longer a seventeen year old looking for love. He was a man who had found his love in the form of an angel.

And he wasn't about to let her go.

James and Lucinda had gathered together a few things for her return trip to Des Moines. They set off early on the following Wednesday morning as the new day was dawning, a slate gray sky slowly giving way to cloud colors of copper as the morning sun began to rise. Lucinda had to return her buggy and book inventory to the Century Press in Des Moines, and James followed in his wagon for their return trip. They would visit with Lucinda's Aunt Maggie, pack up Lucinda's belongings, including a few pieces of furniture which James a.s.sured her there would be room for in his house. Lucinda had packed a big lunch for the thirty-five mile trip.

James had made arrangements with Professor Cramer for one of the Professor's brightest students to take over his cla.s.s for the next two weeks. James decided that would be better than closing the school for a time.

They rode along, often with wagons side by side when the roadway allowed. They talked, they laughed, and James recited poetry, at times with a thunderous voice, which more than once reached the ears of dogs on nearby farms. Dogs barked and howled, almost in unison with James's rendition of poetry.

At noontime they stopped along the road in a stand of Cottonwood trees and ate their lunch. James went for a short walk and returned with a handful of bright yellow wild flowers.

He bowed and presented Lucinda the flowers. "For my lovely, whose beauty matches, no, whose beauty outdoes the beauty of these precious flowers from G.o.d."

She took the flowers and told him, "Thank you. They're so pretty." Her eyes sparkled with approval. "Are you always this romantic?"

He grinned. "Can't say I've had much practice in the past."

She smiled. "Well, James Garrison, I have to tell you I love it."

He winked, "Good, my lovely, because you're going to get plenty of it. How do I love you?-let me count the ways ...."

Lucinda was happy and finding such joy in his company. She loved everything about him. She thought about what Professor Cramer had told her about James. The Professor knew his student well.

Lucinda was wondering what her Aunt Maggie would say when she told her she was getting married. It had all happened so fast, away for a few days and returning to Des Moines with marriage news. Would she think Lucinda impulsive? Lucinda brushed aside the thought, believing when her Aunt Maggie met James she would love him and encourage their union.

Her Aunt Maggie had been widowed years before and had never remarried. She was now in her sixties and was a dressmaker, although she no longer had a shop in town but worked from her home.

It was late afternoon when they arrived at Maggie Collins's home. She had a look of surprise when she opened the door and saw Lucinda was not alone. She wore a Calico print dress, her gray hair pulled up and into a bun, and a huge smile that wouldn't quit.

"Lucinda honey, who do we have here?"

Any worry or wonder Lucinda previously had, disappeared as soon as James was introduced to her aunt. She could tell that James liked Aunt Maggie as much as Aunt Maggie liked him. Not that Lucinda felt she needed her aunt's approval but it was nice to know she had it.

After a pleasant overnight visit with Aunt Maggie, the wagon was loaded with Lucinda's belongings and they made the return trip to the farm.

The following morning they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, did a few ch.o.r.es in the house and then went out into the yard. A wind had come up and it appeared rain clouds might be gathering for an afternoon rain shower.

James went to the barn to tend to the animals and Lucinda fed the chickens and was gathering eggs. She leaned down to pick up an egg nearly hidden among the daffodils and when she stood up she caught sight of heavy smoke to the east.

"James, there's a fire!"

James came running from the barn and saw where Lucinda was pointing. "d.a.m.n, it looks like the Erskine's place!" He ran back into the barn and returned with several shovels and threw them into the wagon. "Lucinda, grab all the buckets you can find!"

She hurried to the house and returned with three buckets.

James instructed, "Throw them into the wagon. Grab the ones near the pump."

"I'm going with you!"

"No, you're not!"

"Try and stop me!" She climbed into the wagon as he finished harnessing the horse. He jumped onto the wagon and gave a stern look but no argument. As soon as they were out onto the road way, he mumbled, "You should have stayed home."

Lucinda shrugged and said, "I don't think so."

James knew how dangerous and devastating prairie fires could be. They happened too often. Farmhouses, barns, could be destroyed in no time, as well as lives. Anytime there was a fire he would recall an event that happened a few years before. A family of five was in their wagon on the road when a prairie fire caught them. Tall gra.s.s was burning on one side of the road and apparently the wind had sent the fire across the road in front of them, surrounding and engulfing them. They had nowhere to go and they all burned to death. Their charred bodies were found hours later.

Within minutes James and Lucinda arrived at the Erskine farm. Fire was burning in the high dry gra.s.s beyond the barn and wind was whipping up the flames. A half-dozen men were running buckets of water, beating at the flames with boards, and throwing shovels of dirt.

James moaned, "Jeeze, in this wind we won't have a chance!" He jumped down from the wagon, quickly grabbed shovels and buckets. He saw Mrs. Erskine standing near the porch of the house. He called out over his shoulder, "Lucinda, you stay near the farmhouse and help Mrs. Erskine!"

"Be careful James!" Lucinda turned and headed for the house.

It was chaotic. James was told the fire started by accident when William Erskine was doing a burn to clear some land. A hot coal dropped from a shovel full of coals he was carrying and ignited the weeds. The south wind fanned the flames and carried them in the opposite direction from his controlled burn. Now it had not only spread in the direction of his barn but was threatening his hay and granary.

James a.s.sisted in removing the horses and the harness from the barn. It was not an easy task as the horses were spooked by the fire but the men managed to remove them all to safe ground. Only moments later, the barn burst into flame. But that was now the least of their worries. The wind had turned and moved the flames toward the foot of the granary. Further down the field the fire was moving in the direction of the road.

Across the road was James's Uncle Andrew's farm. The split rail fence and gate were just off the edge of the road. James knew there was a real threat to his own farm if the fire kept going in the direction it was moving.

James looked to the heavens and prayed for rain. Clouds had been gathering all morning but he knew the prospect of falling rain did not look good at present.