The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1) - Page 100

I gripped the poker tightly. I’d swing if I had to.

“She’s mine.” He snarled at me with his teeth bared like a rabid dog. “A child earns their keep. What did you tell her? That she didn’t have to listen to me? That she could sneak out of my house and lie to my face every night? And then to keep her at Barnes’s house like a prisoner? Like I wasn’t good enough to be her father?”

“You’re not good enough to be her father. You’ve treated her like an animal. I’d love to see you running through the forest with a man pointing a gun at your back. Or how about a cigarette burning your skin? What’s wrong with you?” I was spitting mad by this time and wanted to ram the poker straight through his chest.

“Shut up, bitch.” He knocked my arm, and I dropped the poker. It made a horrible clattering noise on the wood floor.

He lunged toward me. I backed into the wall.

“Don’t feel so brave now, do you?” His thick fingers grasped the collar of my necktie and pulled it tighter, making a noose around my neck. “All that’ll be left of you is this man’s tie you wear around your skinny neck.” He pulled tighter, choking me. I could feel myself going purple as I strained against his grip. I’m going to die without saying goodbye to my family or the children or Alexander. Just when I’d found love, this was how it would end. After all the struggle, I would die in the hands of this drunken idiot.

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, the door flew open and the children ran inside, with Josephine in the lead. “Get your hands off her,” she screamed, her voice high-pitched. “Get away from her.” Those light green eyes flashed with rage as she led the rest of the children in a wave toward my captor and me.

The Johnson sisters were right behind her. “Stop it—stop hurting Miss Cooper.” Martha’s shrill words pierced through my fear. They’d seen what was happening through the windows and organized themselves into an army.

Like a swarm of wasps, they rushed toward Kellam, carrying kindling pieces in front of them like swords. Their expressions were crazed and furious as they shouted various cries of war. For a moment I feared one of them might try to stab our villain in the chest. Right before I passed out, Kellam loosened his grip and tossed me against the wall.

I fell to my hands and knees, gasping for breath and coughing. It felt as though he’d broken my neck, but I knew that somehow, through the grace of God and a pack of very fearless children, he had not.

“Get him,” Flynn shouted.


Knock him down,” Isak said.

The sound of stomping feet as they ran en masse toward Kellam only just penetrated my brain. For a second or two, I remained crouched on the floor, gulping for air. Black spots danced before my eyes. Afraid I might faint, I concentrated on taking deep, steadying breaths until I could make out the grains in the pine floor.

I rose to my knees and swallowed against the ache in my throat.

They trapped him in the corner of the room. When he tried to push through the wall of small bodies, Isak jumped on his back at the same time Flynn kicked him in the shins. The bulky man tumbled to the floor. Viktor shoved his boot into Kellam’s side. Shannon and Nora leapt on top of his legs and sat on him as though he was a park bench. Theo sprawled over his chest. The Johnson sisters each stood on one beefy forearm. Flynn pressed into his throat with his small hands.

“How do you like it?” Flynn asked.

Kellam struggled, but he was no match for my wild band of students.

Alma, in the meantime, ran to my desk and came back with the rope we’d used in the blizzard. She dropped to her knees and hog-tied Kellam’s hands over his head. When she was done there, she did the same with his feet. I’d never seen a child move as fluidly and quickly. Despite her little body, the girl was as strong as a horse. The days on her father’s farm had taught her a skill I couldn’t.

“Elsa, go to Father,” Martha said. “Tell him to bring the sheriff.”

“And my dad,” Theo said. “He’ll know what to do.”

Elsa, without a word, took off running.

“Miss Quinn,” Josephine said as she knelt next to me. “Are you hurt?”

The tears in her voice broke the spell. I looked up, then sat against the wall and scanned the faces of my students, as if the answers to my dilemma could be found in their frightened eyes. Martha and Josephine knelt next to me. The rest of the students gathered around, flushed from their efforts.

All but Louisa.

She stood in the middle of the room, small and thin in her new coat. Tears spilled from her eyes and made a pattern like a river down her cheeks. “Pa?” she whispered. “What have you done?”

“You. You’ll pay for this, you little brat.” He struggled to raise himself, but the hog-ties were too strong. “You belong to me, not these people.”

The twins each offered a hand and helped me to my feet as Louisa drew closer to her father. “Why were you trying to hurt Miss Cooper?”

“It’s your fault,” he said. “You went against my word.”

Just then, Alexander and the sheriff burst through the front door. For a second, they halted at the sight, clearly shocked to see Kellam on the floor trapped by my small band of students.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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