The Biggest Miracle of All
ONE
"Joseph! Sit still! Mind your manners!"
Pa's whisper was short and snapped out. He was in trouble and he didn't know why.
Joe's green eyes shot to the older woman sitting opposite them. The little giggle the Widow Corney swallowed along with a bit of her overly dry cookie was slightly choked and mostly at his expense.
He didn't like that.
And truth be told – Joe shot a look at his pa, wondering if the older man could read his mind, 'cause sometimes it seemed he could – he didn't like the widow Corney much either. For one thing, she couldn't bake worth a darn, and she always pinched his cheek and ruffled his hair like he was five years old when they came to visit.
Couldn't she see he was a man, and didn't she know a woman didn't pinch a man's cheek and ruffle his hair?
After all, he was twelve.
"Yes, sir," Joe answered, straightening up, since the only thing he could figure he was doing wrong was slouching.
His father's sigh told him otherwise.
"Your pinky," Pa breathed under his breath.
His pinky?
Joe looked down at his left hand, noting how the fine china cup he held, with its blue background and raised white grapes and leaves, shook. It made him nervous drinking out of other people's china cups. When he'd broke one at home, it had cost him a month's allowance to buy a replacement.
Was Pa mad that he was shaking?
But no, he'd said his 'pinky'. That was the runt of a finger at the end. With a frown, Joe glanced out from under thick black eyelashes at the widow. Her pinky was sticking out at a funny angle from the cup. Now that he thought of it, so was Pa's.
Always good at picking up where others left off, Joe stuck his pinky out like it was a signal flag for the cavalry and smiled at his father.
Who sighed again.
"Now, Ben," the Widow Corney said, going up a notch in his estimation, 'you have a pleasant, well-behaved young man sitting there next to you. Don't give him such grief."
"I'm afraid my efforts to instill in my sons the proper knowledge of manners and etiquette have failed with this one."
"Hoss don't stick his pinky out when he drinks from one of them fancy cups," Joe protested, noting how his pinky was protesting the odd position he had put it in.
His father's graying eyebrows reached for the widow's fancy plaster ceiling.
"Or proper grammar."
Oops.
"Nonsense, Ben, the boy is charming with his provincial speech and ways."
Joe's frown doubled.
Had he just been insulted?
"Nevertheless, my sons need to know how to behave in polite society." Those near-black eyes pinned him. "Would you like to rephrase that, son?"
It took a moment to remember what he'd said. "Hoss...doesn't stick his pinky out when he drinks from a fancy cup."
Whew!
"If you notice, neither do I at home. Mrs. Corney is treating us to 'high' tea. There are certain rules one must follow."
"Rules? To drink tear?" he blurted out. "Whatever for?"
Before his father could scold him, the Widow Corney replied, "I agree, Joseph. Whatever for?" And then she burst into laughter.
It took a moment, but Pa laughed too – sort of.
"Well, it's getting late," his father said, putting his cup on the table, which let Joe do the same – with relief. "It's time for us to go. The sun will be down in by the time we get home. We have a long ride."
Joe hesitated, unsure of the proper etiquette for telling a grown-up they'd forgot something.
"Pa?"
His father was on his feet. He looked down at him.
It was an intimidating sight.
"I'm supposed to help the new school marm shut down the school house for Christmas break and stay with her overnight. Remember?" It had been Adam's idea. If you asked his opinion, older brother Adam was pining for his teacher. She was substituting for Abigail Jones since the old bat was away visiting relatives for the holidays. Today was the beginning of a two week break from schoolwork – even longer if one of the big snows they had came in quick and he got snowed in at the ranch.
Please God...
"That's right." Ben frowned. "I'm not so sure about that, Joseph. The signs indicate snow is coming."
"I'll be fine, Pa. Hoss and Adam are coming in Tuesday morning, and she really needs the help," he said, as innocent as could be. Truth to tell, he was pining a bit for the new teacher, who went by the unusual name of Sophrona Chesto, himself. She had honey blonde hair and big blue eyes and about the prettiest face he had ever seen.
Big brother in one of his moments of 'waxing poetic' as he put it, had said she was the 'nectar' of the gods.
Whatever that meant.
To him, she was just about the nicest person he had ever met. She seemed to understand him. When most of the teachers who substituted for Miss Jones sent home notes telling Pa he was unruly and disobedient, Miss Chesto had sent one to his father telling him he was 'spirited' and 'a pure delight.'
He might be in love.
The funny thing was, it was really Mrs. Chesto. She was a widow like Mrs. Corney. She and her husband had lived in San Francisco for about a year. He was run down by a carriage and died, which was why she took the post in Virginia City – to get away from the memories, as Pa put it.
Mrs. Chesto was expecting a baby.
Which was why Adam had volunteered him to help her shut down the school house and drive her home in her carriage. He was gonna do a few chores and then stay overnight and then Adam and Hoss would pick him up at her place when they came into town. Of course, that meant big brother would get to talk to her to and wax even more poetic.
"Yes, your brothers are coming in on Christmas early to deliver some packages. But I don't know..."
Joe pulled his 'puppy dog' look, as Hoss put it. "But Pa, she's all alone and she can't do chores since her baby's due in about a month. Mrs. Chesto ain't... " He corrected himself before his father could do it. "She hasn't got a husband and she needs to get ready for winter."
"I'm sure Joseph will manage quite well," the Widow Corney said as she returned to the room with their coats over her arm. "Won't you, young man?"
He stood up too and puffed his chest out a bit. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Sophrona will take good care of him, Ben."
"It's just that it's such a long way out."
Mrs. Chesto had rented the old Carter place. It was about fifteen miles outside of town to the north. Joe really didn't want to whine, but it came out that way anyhow.
"Ah, Pa, I can do it."
His father glanced at the window, as if assessing the sky, and then stared down at him.
"All right, Joseph, but if it begins to snow heavily on your way there, I want your promise that you will turn the carriage around and head back to town. Both of you will be safer here. " Pa looked at the widow again. "Thank goodness, Mrs. Chesto has another month to go. I'd hate to think of her time coming when she was alone. I know Paul has advised her to move into town in a couple of weeks."
"I'm part of the committee that will see to it!" the widow said, beaming.
His father took the blue and green checked coat the older lady held and handed it to him. "Bundle up before you go, Joseph."
"All I gotta do is cross the street and walk a block to the school, Pa."
"Nevertheless, you will bundle up. I won't have you catching cold."
"Yes, sir," Joe said as he shinnied into his coat and headed for the door.
"And button that coat, young man!"
Joe reached for the buttons instead of the door latch. He haphazardly fastened three out of the four before opening the door.
"See you in a few, Pa!"
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Joe looked up as he stepped outside. The light was waning and the air felt heavy with moisture, but the sky was as clear as Lake Tahoe on a cloudless day. He knew why Pa was worried. There'd been plenty of signs of a hard winter to come. The animal's fur was thick, and Hoss had seen squirrels scurrying up into the trees after gatherin' up great quantities of nuts. Adam said the cones on the pines were bigger than usual and Hop Sing was already complainin' about havin' mice in the pantry. As he moved into the street, the youngest Cartwright pulled his collar up about his chin. It was colder than he had expected and that was fine with him. Truth to tell, he loved the cold.
He just plain loved winter.
As the schoolhouse came into view Joe noted Mrs. Chesto's fancy surrey sittin' out front. The pair of fine Black Belgians she had were ex-race horses. Pa didn't have any time for race horses, though he had grudgingly admitted that this was the finest looking pair he had ever seen and that they seemed to perform competently as draft horses. Pa was all about work. Everyday. All day long. As he came alongside the animals, Joe stopped to give them each one of the treats he'd put in his pocket that morning and talk to them, telling the pair that he was gonna drive them soon and it would be all right 'cause he knew what he was doing.
And he did. He was good with horses. Better even than old high and mighty Adam.
Before he could move on, the schoolhouse door opened and Mrs. Chesto stepped out. The light from inside caught in her honey-colored hair and made it shine like gold. She was wearing a pretty crimson dress made from some fabric that had a tiny pattern in it. Her hand rested on her belly and the growing baby inside.
"Oh, Joseph, it's you." Her smile could have lit the night sky. "Come on in. I started without you." She cast a glance at the sky and added, "I think we can be done here in about an hour. I'd like to get to the house before dark."
He left the horses and mounted several steps. "Sounds good," he replied.
"Thank you for volunteering to help me. I suppose I should have given winter more thought." She shook her head. "Living in the city for so many years has spoiled me a bit."
From what he'd overheard, Mrs. Chesto had come west with her family when she was about his age and lived in San Francisco until her husband died. She was twenty-one now and had been teaching for about five years.
"I love winter," Joe said. "Out where we live the snow can pile up mile-high!"
Those blue eyes – the color of cornflowers – fastened on him. "'Mile-high'?" Her lips curled with a smile. "Now my best student wouldn't be indulging in a bit of hyperbole, would he?"
He knew that one. Mostly 'cause of Adam.
"I ain't... I'm not exaggerating," he replied. Then he smiled too. "Well, not much."
They laughed together as they mounted the steps and went inside. It took about two and a half hours to complete closing down the schoolhouse. They'd been just about done when one of his schoolmates pa's had shown up to discuss what he could do to keep his son's studies up over the winter. Mrs. Chesto had tried to put him off, but he was a 'hard-nosed' type as Pa said and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Joe glanced at the darkening sky. He'd have to push it if they were to make it to the Carter place before dark. He hoped his teacher couldn't see how excited he was or how his heart pounded as he sat down on the buggy seat next to her and took up the reins of her powerful horses.
"They sure are beautiful," he sighed.
It took her a second. "Oh, Belle and La Bette, you mean?"
"Ma'am?"
She shivered and dug her hands farther into the black muff she wore. It matched her lambswool coat. "My horses. Do you remember the reference?"
How come he could ace things with Mrs. Chesto when he never could with Miss Jones? "Sure thing, Mrs. Chesto. My mama was French. She used to read that story to me. It's called 'Beauty and the Beast', just like your Belgians."
"It's just about my favorite fairy tale," she admitted. After a pause, she added, "Joseph, I have one thing to ask of you."
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"Could you call me Sophie when we're not at school? When you say Mrs. Chesto, all I can think of is my husband's dour Scottish mother." Using her fingers to mimic a pair of glasses, she pulled a long face and said, "Ye're a wee scunner, Sophie! Awa' and bile yer heid!"
He didn't know what the heck she'd said, but the look and the sound of it made him giggle like a girl. Mrs. Chesto...Sophie...joined in and soon they had both horses shaking their heads at them.
Finally he managed to say, "I will if you do one thing for me."
She wiped a tear from her eye. "What's that?"
"Call me 'Joe'. My Pa's the only one usually calls me 'Joseph' and that's usually when he's madder than a rattler on a spit."
She held out her hand to seal the deal. "Joe, it is then."
He took it and, even though he felt a little funny calling his teacher by her first name, said, "Sophie."
A moment later they were pulling away from the schoolhouse, chattering and laughing, and headed out of town.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It should have been an easy journey, would have been if not for a sudden shift in the weather. They were a little more than halfway to the old Carter place when a band of gray clouds rolled in, darkening the sky to the point where it was hard to see. The temperature plummeted along with their approach and the breeze that had been blowing turned into a gale-force wind. It rocked the rig as they continued on and whipped the horses' manes into their eyes making them skittish and hard to control. Joe's fingers were nearly frozen and were white on the reins.
He'd never felt such power in a team before.
As the snow began to swirl around them, masking the road and the woods beyond, Joe thought about what his father had said he should do should it start to snow. The problem was, they were already more than halfway to where Sophie was staying. It would take them longer to get back to Virginia City than to make it to her place. He didn't want to disobey his pa, but he figured this was one of those times where he had to be resilient. Pa liked that word. He said it meant being able to fit yourself to the needs of the situation no matter what you had planned and making do with what you had when it happened.
Joe eyed Sophie where she sat all bundled up in the back of the rig. He'd made her – well, asked her – to get in the back when the wind picked up. He'd found a couple of blankets under the seat and wrapped her up in them and then made sure her heavy coat was tucked in all around her. She looked like one of those Eskimos from Adam's book on the peoples of the world, only wearing black instead of white.
Turning back to the team, Joe checked them and then looked at the sky again. The snow was coming quicker now and the flakes were thicker than before. They still had a couple of hours to the Carter place and he was worried about getting there. He had a special charge in the carriage, not only Sophie, but her unborn baby. He didn't want to do anything wrong or go looking for trouble.
He didn't have to.
It found him.