Hope Remains: A Hope Springs Fanfiction

Chapter 30

Emma caught herself instinctively scanning the horizon every day for the tell-tale cloud of dust returning wagons would create on their way back to Hope Springs. She worried about Papa when he was gone, a worry that had haunted her from being left behind by Mother as a child. But the worry had an added bit of hope this year as she watched the horizon. Hope that the bloom of romance between her and Finbarr could fully blossom when he came home.

She had teased him about finding anyone else while he was at the depot, but she had also been serious. She and Finbarr had circled each other for too long, like two stars caught in orbit around each other. They should have begun building a future together a long time ago, but fear kept them circling. But something in their orbit had shifted subtly the night Finbarr had almost kissed her and she hoped that now, they could truly fall into each other.

"Miss Emma! Look!"

Gabriel Johnson's voice pulled her eyes away from the horizon. He ran across the school yard toward her carrying the bright red tail feather of a hawk. 

"Very nice, Gabe," she smiled, taking the feather from him. "This will be a perfect addition to our nature studies collage."

The children had been as antsy as she was for the return of the men from the depot. It had been an unseasonably warm day, Emma and her little beehive of pupils sweltering over in-class work and fractions in the schoolroom. The warmth of the fall day had given her a perfect opportunity to take her students outside and get rid of some of their restless energy. And, if she was honest, it was a perfect opportunity for her to channel her own restlessness as well.

She felt a small tug on the back of her dress, and looked down to find little Hester Jane Bartlett, by far her youngest and most shy pupil. Hester Jane was one of the brightest first year students, but she preferred to watch the others with her wide gray eyes, set in a tiny heart-shaped face. She reminded Emma of herself when she was that age and hoped, with time, the little girl would grow more at ease.

"What did you find, darling?" Emma asked, crouching down so she was on a level with the child. Hester Jane held out her hand tentatively. Inside her upturned palm was a beautiful purple and white Columbine, perhaps the last they would see this season.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, smoothing Hester Jane's wispy blonde hair affectionately. "This is an excellent find! Well done."

The little girl beamed at her, speaking in a voice as delicate as a bird's call. "I thought it was as pretty as you, teacher."

Emma's heart melted at her words. "Oh, thank you, sweet girl! You just made my day."

Beaming, Hester Jane skipped off to where Matthew O'Connor stood. He and Hester Jane seemed like an unlikely pair, Matthew reminded Emma very much of Tavish, boisterous and teasing, while Hester Jane was quiet and sensitive. Yet, somehow the two had become firm friends on their first day of school.

She scanned the playground, wondering if perhaps they ought to start a small garden in one corner for the children to tend next spring. She well remembered wanting to be seen as grown up and responsible, taking care of Papa's pocket watch while he had gone to the depot all those years ago had felt like the weightiest of responsibilities. Perhaps the children would like to have something of their own to care for and tend to.

When the children had exhausted themselves, Emma led them back inside and they set to work pasting their finds to the "nature collage", a large sheet of paper she had tacked to the wall for them to see. She had assigned some of the older students to look up the names of the items they had found and print their names neatly beneath each. Perhaps she could leave it up so the parents could see it when they came to church on Sunday.

About halfway through their lesson about geography, she heard a low roll of thunder. The children grew restless at the noise, shifting about to look out the windows. Another rumble sounded, and tiny Hester Jane's wide, frightened eyes appeared just over the top of Emma's desk.

"Oh, teacher, look at that awful cloud!"

Emma looked, her heart sinking into her boots. In the northwest, a giant cloud was rapidly rolling up, one larger than she'd seen in all her life. It was black, curling menacingly as it approached on fast winds. There was something terrifying about how it gloomed in the clear blue sky. Now and again, a bolt of lightning shot through the cloud, promptly followed by a deep, savage growl like wolves hungry for their next meal. It hung low enough that it almost seemed to be touching the tops of the hills just beyond Hope Springs.

"Come away from the windows, children," Emma said, hoping her tone sounded calmer than she felt. She had been in Wyoming for most of her life and had seen some wild storms, but she had never seen a cloud like that.

The children obeyed, huddling together in the center of the room. Hester Jane clung to her side, her other hand clutching Matthew's.

"I'm scared," she whimpered. "I want to go home."

"I know, sweetheart," Emma soothed as the light inside the church grew dimmer and dimmer. "Let's all sing together, that will help us pass the time."

Katie always said that music soothed the soul, perhaps it would calm the children as well. She started to sing one of the songs Katie had taught them when they were small.

"Mitty Matty had a hen," she began, catching the interest of some of the Irish children who knew the song as well. "She laid eggs for gentlemen."

"Hi! Ho! Who is at home?" the children joined in. The song was not difficult and by the end, all the children were singing together. Once the song finished, they giggled, begging her to begin another one. She had just begun the first verse of Polly Put the Kettle On when with a blinding glare of lightning and crash of thunder, the hail swooped down and blotted out the landscape in one white, furious moment.

The classroom hushed, fear pulling the children instinctively closer to her. She continued singing every song she could think of to keep them calm through all the clamor of the storm. Torn beaches thudded against the church, the wind wailed in the eaves. Emma whirled as the sharp crack of breaking glass tore the air and hail poured in through the holes covering the floor with stones, the smallest of which was as big as a chicken's egg. Hester Jane buried her face in Emma's lap and kept it there, her little body quivering. As the storm raged, she realized she could hear frightened shouting outside now that the glass was gone.

"It's too much! The wagon is going to go!"

"Stay here, children," she said urgently, stepping toward the door. The wind still howled, pushing the door out of her grasp as she opened it, stepping out into the small overhang above the church door. She was soaked to the skin in seconds, but that didn't matter when she saw what was happening. A wagon sat in the middle of the bridge as the river flooded over the planks. Men frantically tried to rescue the sodden supplies, but the current was too strong, they were being pushed every which way. One man's hat was whipped off his head, and Emma recognized the deep mahogany gleam of hair. Finbarr.

Without thinking, she took off at a run, her sodden skirts weighing them down. One of the O'Connor's wagons was in trouble, she had to help them! She didn't know what she could do, only that if she didn't do something, the supplies they brought would be ruined and the wagon swept away. And Finbarr couldn't see, she needed to get him out of the storm!

As she ran, she screamed his name.

"Finbarr!"