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But she knew. She knew, deep down. How was she supposed to laugh and joke and play around with a boy whose parents had just died? All she could think was what it would have been like, to be him. To have to accept something so horrible. Maybe it would have been a different story if they just hadn't come home.
If it were her, she could have easily pretended that they were alive, that they were just taking their time. After a few months, after a few years, maybe something had happened. But of course, there was a good explanation. Eventually, they'd telegram to come along and join them and she'd be reunited.
Jamie didn't have that luxury. He knew they were dead, and they weren't going to be coming back. Not ever. No telegrams, no hope that one day things would turn themselves around.
If that were her, if those were her parents on the back of some stranger's horse… how was she supposed to joke and laugh and smile while such a sweet little boy was practically dying in front of her?
It wasn't hard to notice that it was having an effect on him, though, too. Even only a short night, humorless as it had been, must have been hell. He looked like a shell of a boy until she'd managed to get the others gathered around.
He was exhausted, anyone could see that, but there was something else, too, something that sleep couldn't replace. If she didn't know better, she'd call it a sense that, somehow, he could keep going. And there was no replacing that, no matter how hard she tried.
The door behind her opened, the sound of footsteps on the floor drawing her attention. How long had she been sitting there, lost in her own head? She didn't know. The children were talking amongst themselves, the older ones who already pretty much knew the lesson making sure that the younger ones were making their letters correctly. Exactly the way that she would have liked.
Marie turned. There he was, right by the door. The look on his face wasn't pleased, but he didn't look despondent, either.
"Is something wrong?"
He walked over slow. "Is now a bad time?"
"Not particularly," she answered. She kept her voice low, to avoid letting the children hear. There was nothing wrong with them hearing, per se, but it was a private conversation between adults, and some part of her wanted to keep it that way. Because it was him.
"I have to call it a day and get ready for work. If you want, you could move back into the schoolhouse tomorrow. There's work yet to be done, but you can't see the sky no more."
"That's great news. I'll tell the kids right away."
"Yeah, I'd thought you might feel that way. I'm glad to have been help."
"Is there anything you wanted as payment? I don't have much money, but—"
His jaw flexed and tightened. "No, thank you," he growled. But the way that his eyes darted down for a moment…
Her cheeks flushed. "Well, thank you again. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe? Or this evening, perhaps we'll come in for supper again? You needn't pay for us, of course."
"If you'd like," he said, his voice coming out strained and tight. "That would be just fine."
Marie smiled. She shouldn't have, not with the way he was obviously thinking about her. It might come off as a sort of invitation. But she smiled nonetheless. She couldn't stop smiling, not even when he turned and headed out the door.
Eighteen
Chris took in a deep breath and looked out at the work he'd been doing. Only a little while left before work, and he was already tired from a day's labor. Unpaid labor, too, which he couldn't begin to explain.
Upon a time, he'd never have done it. He was paid for his work, and if he wasn't being paid then there was no reason to be doing the job. That was a dangerous road to go down. Once you start thinking like that, then there's really no reason to spend any time on anything that you don't like doing, or work.
The work you will do, well, it ain't framin' timbers. Because that takes a lot of time, and pays only moderate-well. No, if the only thing that matters is the money, then you do jobs that pay big and take no effort, and it doesn't take long before you start figuring that the only thing standing between you and a big pay-day is the law.
That wasn't who he was any more. Certainly wasn't who he wanted to be. But he felt the disconnect in every part of his body, down to his bones. What had happened to him? Who even was he any more? The door behind him opened and he moved to step out of the way of whoever stepped through.
There wasn't anyone there. Not immediately, anyways. Not obviously. Until he looked down. A little boy stepped through without saying anything.
"Jamie. Hey, kid. Y'alright?"
He shrugged.
"What's the problem? Your friends not any fun?"
"I'm fine," was his response. But Chris didn't particularly buy it. He knelt down and leaned in.
"Come on. You wanna see what I've been workin' on? Maybe that'll cheer you up."
