Lessons of the Heart (Daughters of the Prairie 2)
Page 1
Chapter One
Dakota Territory, 1876
“Mary Alice?”
The timid young girl looked up. Around her, Ruth’s other students jarred their desks, gathered their books, writing tablets, and slates, and ran out into the sunshine. Another school day over.
“Yes, Miss Blackburn?”
“I need to speak to you, please.”
The pretty—she’d be stunning if she ever smiled—eleven-year-old sullenly approached Ruth’s desk.
“You missed five words on your spelling examination today.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“You’re a very bright girl, Mary Alice,” Ruth said sternly. “I’ve let mediocre work slide in the past, and you’ve promised to do better.”
She nodded.
“However, this approach is clearly not working. I’m afraid I must punish you.”
She nodded again and her lips trembled. “I understand.”
Ruth’s spectacles slid down her nose a smidge, and she pushed them up. They’d only slide down again in a few moments. Perspiration covered her face. Spring heat in Dakota Territory became unbearable inside the stifling schoolhouse.
“Have you been studying your speller?” she asked the child.
“Yes, Miss Blackburn.”
“Well, then, I don’t see how you can be doing so poorly. Perhaps copying the words onto the blackboard will help and will also serve as your punishment.” Ruth cleared her throat, stood, and straightened into her firm teacher stance. “I want you to write each word you missed twenty-five times.” She strode to the board, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote separate, desperate, appreciate, exhilarate, and educate at the top of the board and then turned to face Mary Alice. “Just copy the words in columns underneath where I’ve written them.”
The child chewed her lip. Such a timid little creature. Ruth’s heart sank a little. She hated to punish her, but letting her continue to get away with mediocre work when she was capable of so much more would be a disservice to her student.
Ruth smiled. “Here’s something that helped me when I was your age. Remember that there is ‘a rat’ in separate and exhilarate, but not in desperate.” She held out the chalk.
Mary Alice didn’t move.
“Come on, now. It won’t take long.”
Still no movement. “M-Miss Blackburn?”
“Yes?”
“Can I—”
“May I, Mary Alice.”