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She was impressed. “Very good. Do you know all the tables of multiplication?”
“Yes. Lucky and I know everything,” he replied proudly. “Don’t we, Lucky?” The dog barked in agreement.
Regan stifled an eye roll and wondered where Silas had gotten the preposterous notion. Her first thought was to ask him how many people lived in China, but wasn’t sure teachers were supposed to snatch the rug from under their students on the first day. “I’ve never met anyone who knows everything.”
He puffed up. “I do.”
The other children were viewing the conversation eagerly as if enjoying the new teacher being challenged, even Anna.Traitor!
“Did Mr. Adams know that?”
He blinked and turned slightly red. “No, ma’am.”
“How about your parents? Do they know they’re wasting your time and their money sending you to school?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, then let’s make a deal. Pretend you don’t know everything, and I’ll pretend to know more than you.”
He nodded.
She smiled.
In the month that followed, Regan grew more comfortable standing at the front of the classroom and the students grew more comfortable with her being there. She worked reading and spelling one-syllable words with the children in Anna’s age group, and three- and four-syllables with self-proclaimed genius Silas Taylor. They went for hikes to look at nature, laid in the grass during recess to find cloud shapes, and held spelling bees. She made Wallace Jr. sit in the corner at least once a day for terrorizing the girls; Felicity seemed to be his favorite target because she’d cry instead of socking him the way Livy had when he slipped a tiny frog down the back of her dress. Each day at two, Regan went home exhausted, but pleased by the growth of the young minds she was helping to mold.
The town council meeting held during the last week of July was packed. On the agenda was the hiring of the new teacher, Mr. Irving Dunbar, a recent graduate of an Illinois college and the nephew of one of the members of the Ranchers Association. People turned out to watch Regan and the ladies turn in the petition the council had asked for, holding twice the number of needed names, to make sure the mayor and the other members kept their word about paying the new teacher a decent wage.
And when all went well and the meeting was adjourned by the sour-faced Arnold Cale, the roars of approval shook the walls of his bank.
That evening on the back porch, Regan sat cuddled in her husband’s lap. “So now that you’re no longer the teacher, how are you feeling?”
“Sad. Teaching was exhausting but I’ll miss being with the children.”
“Even Wallace Jr.?”
“Even Wallace Jr.”
The rumble of his chuckle played against her ear on his chest.
“So, what are you going to do with yourself all day now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Odell will let me deliver the mail.”
“If I get a vote, I say no.”
“Then it’s good you don’t get one.”
Again, the rumble of amusement.
She sat up. “I have an idea. How about I come to your office every day, slip beneath your desk, and make you run amok.”
He laughed. “No.”
“No one will know. They may wonder why you’re having trouble breathing and why your eyes have rolled back into your head, but I’ll be very quiet. Promise. Let me show you.”
She slid to her knees and as she demonstrated, he had lots of trouble breathing. His eyes rolled so far back into his head it was a wonder they didn’t jump free and spin around in the darkness of the porch floor, but she kept her promise. She was very quiet.
Chapter Nineteen
