Forgotten Letter
Hope tried to put Mr. Stewart and his ridiculous request out of her mind as she made the walk to the schoolhouse. When she arrived, she slid the letter from her father into her desk drawer and went about writing the math problems on the board. Soon, the students began to arrive, chattering about how much fun they’d have at recess now that everything had dried out. By mid-day, Hope was distracted by an argument two of the older girls had had and she didn’t find time to read her letter. That afternoon, she’d walked home with Sally and Hank to see if their mother knew how their father might intend to vote in the election and wasn’t too surprised to hear that Mr. Canton was their favorite candidate. Hope said Mr. Stewart had been doing a fine job but understood why Mr. Canton might make a fine president and left it at that.
It wasn’t until she was in her bed, the lanterns off all over the house, trying to find a wink of sleep, that she realized she’d left her father’s letter in her desk drawer and hadn’t even opened it. Hope let out a sigh and turned over, thinking she could just get it in the morning. But that question she’d asked, the one about how her parents managed to make it through when they had to be apart, was burning inside of her again such that she finally just decided to go get it.
The entire idea was ridiculous—almost as silly as the story she’d heard of her mother taking off to Springfield to try to find out whether or not Hope’s daddy had been wounded at the Battle of Wilson’s Creek. Except, this wasn’t a matter of life and death, and it wasn’t going to fix anything that was wrong. But as she quietly slipped on a gown and her boots, pulled her hair back and tried to determine whether or not the moon was bright enough to light her path and if she should actually take the revolver her daddy had packed for her, Hope knew what she was really looking for, and it wasn’t in the desk drawer.
Thoughts of the saloon and the rowdy bunch she could potentially encounter even though she wasn’t going anywhere near the square or the red light district were convincing enough to make her slip the revolver into her pocket. She wished she had a proper holster, but it would have to do. Luckily, she knew how to use it. She’d just have to be careful not to put herself into a situation where she might have to threaten to use it.
Many months’ worth of practice on the floorboards had taught her where to place her feet so that the hallway didn’t announce her presence. Likewise, she was able to make it down the stairs and out the front door. Once she was standing on the front porch, she inhaled the crisp October air, surprised she’d actually made it out without getting caught or changing her mind.
This was likely a violation of her contract all by itself. Sneaking off in the night unaccompanied would probably be reason enough for Mr. Stewart to let her go, if he should find out about it. And the schoolhouse was just a few lots over from his own house. She assumed he’d be asleep this time of night since it was almost midnight, and she had decided not to take a lantern, so hopefully she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. But it was Friday night, and there was a chance people might be up later than usual. She’d just have to take her time and be quiet so as not to alarm any of the folks whose houses she’d have to pass by.
The moonlight was bright, and it wasn’t hard at all for her to navigate across the yard and out to the street. She’d made this walk so many times, it was second nature to her now. Her mind wandered a little as she went. The entire town seemed different washed in shades of gray. Were her students all asleep? She hoped so. Tucked in warm in their beds, happy thoughts and dreams dancing through their minds. None of them hungry or feeling unwanted or unloved, she hoped.
She thought of her family back home. Her sister was planning a spring wedding, and Hope would have to find a way to attend. She couldn’t miss Faith’s big day. Her mother was likely asleep now, though it wouldn’t be too big of a stretch to picture her still sitting by the lantern working on her embroidery. Her daddy was in bed, no doubt, but probably not asleep. He’d be worrying about her, about the rest of the family. That’s just what he did.
As Hope approached the schoolyard, she heard the soft sound of hammering back behind the schoolhouse itself and saw the faint glow of two or three lanterns. She realized then that she’d been right—even if she didn’t want to admit that this is why she’d come. Hopefully, he was here, and this wasn’t just a group of his friends from church put to work by an architect too busy or too cautious to do the job himself.
Hope slipped inside the school first to grab the letter so she’d at least have that out of the way should she be distracted later. The thunk of the door behind her as she went out the back entrance caused a pause in the hammering and a soft whinny from the horse still tied to the wagon on the other side of the cabin. She wondered if anyone else had ever come out this late at night to see what was going on, but then the fact that no one had demanded work stop or that Judah Lawless be banned from working on public property made her think no one who lived within earshot cared or had noticed.
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