in surprise when she realized he was standing there.
Taking off his hat, he drawled, “Good morning, Miss Mitchell.”
“It isn’t polite to stare, Mr. Benton.”
“I wasn’t staring, Miss Mitchell. I was admiring the view.” He grinned as a rosy blush brushed her cheeks. “At your suggestion, I decided to enroll the children in school.”
Setting the book on the desk, she said, “I’m glad you brought them here. Why don’t you children sit there at those two desks in the front row so I can get your information down?”
After the children were seated, she took out a leather-bound ledger and, flipping through the first few pages, found a clean sheet to write on.
“Minnie. Can you tell me your given name?”
Taking a step toward the children, Will rested a hand on the back of Minnie’s chair. “Her name is Minnie Harper.”
“It’s best if she answers for herself, Mr. Benton. She needs to get used to interacting with me.” Directing her gaze to Minnie, she asked, “Can you tell me how your reading is coming along?”
Minnie fidgeted in her chair, then stood up, walked over to Harry, and whispered in his ear. It was Harry who said, “She’s halfway through the first-year primer, Miss Mitchell.”
“You’re doing quite well now, aren’t you, Minnie?” Miss Mitchell looked over the top of the children’s heads to Will. “Mr. Benton, might I have a word with you outside?”
He followed her out into the warming air. The sun was rising over one of the high peaks that surrounded the town, burning off the morning fog, drying the dewy grass, and warming the brisk spring air. Heartston was beginning to wake up. Will inhaled the smell of the fresh-baked bread coming from the bake shop. He watched as store owners hung out their “Open for Business” signs.
“The child’s shyness is quite severe,” Miss Mitchell said. “Do you know what the cause of it is?”
Turning the brim of his hat in his hands, Will pondered her question.
“Minnie and Harry’s parents—my sister and her husband—died in an accident six months ago. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken to anyone other than her brother since then.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. This has to be a most difficult time for you and the children.”
“Have you ever worked with a child with Minnie’s ailment before?” Will asked.
“I haven’t seen anything as acute as this. Has she been living with you since her parents’ death?”
He shook his head. “I only took charge of them a few days ago.” His remaining sister, Mary Beth, had taken custody of the children first. Then she’d selfishly decided to put her needs above theirs, telling Will there wasn’t room in her life for children. She was a downright mean-spirited woman, set in her ways. He’d tried convincing her to keep Harry and Minnie until the fall, thinking that perhaps this particular assignment would be over and he’d be able to help out, but his words had fallen on deaf ears.
A myriad of emotions flickered through her violet eyes. “I see.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He hadn’t meant to sound defensive, but he was tired and frustrated. He knew that Minnie’s condition would get better with time; he just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
Her hands went to her hips as she frowned at him. “It means that Minnie will have to be handled with special care. I imagine it’s a very big thing for those children to be in a new place, with a new parent, and now having to make new friends. Don’t you understand how that might feel, Mr. Benton?”
Narrowing her eyes, she studied him, and then, with her head cocked to one side, her gaze softened. “Or are you one of those so hardened by life that you can’t even care?”
His hackles rose. “Look here, lady, I cared enough to bring them with me to this town while I’m starting a new job! I cared enough to agree to bring you into their new home. And I cared enough to bring them to school