Courting Miss Amsel by Kim Vogel Sawyer

has reason to stop it. So give him a reason right across the seat of his overalls.”
    Sinking back into her chair, Luthenia took Edythe’s hand. “Listen, Edythe, I know you’re not wantin’ to be like old man Shanks an’ have the young’uns livin’ under a cloud of fear, but there’s times you gotta be firm with young’uns. Don’t you see William has taken charge of your classroom? Your classroom! You gotta get back in control, or the lesson the kids’ll be learnin’ isn’t one you want to teach.”
    Edythe hung her head. “I know you’re right. But I made a promise to the entire class.” She raised her head, helplessness making her eyes sting. “When I broke that switch in half and threw it out the window, I instantly became a champion to seventeen children. Only one child has chosen to take advantage of the switch’s absence. But if I bring in a switch and use it on William, then I’ll feel as though I’m breaking my promise to all of the children. How can I expect them to trust anything I say if I go back on my word?”
    Luthenia snorted. “I think most of them young’uns would cheer if they saw William gettin’ his just dues.”
    “They might at that, but the elation would last only as long as the realization that they could be next. I won’t plant that worry in their hearts.”
    Luthenia sighed. “As I’ve said before, you’re the schoolmarm, so you gotta decide what’s best. But if you refuse to use a switch, you better be thinkin’ of some other punishment that will work.”
    A clap of thunder sounded, rattling the windows. Luthenia sprang to her feet. “I knew a storm was brewin’, but I didn’t expect it to sweep in so quick!” She slammed the kitchen window shut, then peered outside. “Why, look how gray it’s gotten . . . and still an hour ’til sunset.”
    Edythe looked out the window, her pulse accelerating at the sight of the wind whipping the tree branches. Dry leaves danced wildly across the ground.
    “You’re goin’ to the Jefferses’ tonight?” Luthenia said. “It’s only a short walk down the street, but the way that wind’s a-blowin’, it might just pick you up an’ plant you in the next county. I’m thinkin’ you’d be wise to stay put tonight.”
    Edythe put her fingertips against the window, willing the wind to calm. “But Patience and Sophie will be so disappointed. Sophie told me today she’d helped her mother prepare a pumpkin cake.” Lightning flashed, followed by a resounding boom. Fat raindrops splatted the windowpanes.
    “Is pumpkin cake worth gettin’ soaked to the bone?”
    “It is if it was baked by a twelve-year-old girl who’s waited three weeks for her teacher to come to her house.”
    Chuckling, Luthenia shook her head. “You are the most dedicated teacher I ever did see. Well, if you’re of a mind to go out in this, then – ”
    Pounding interrupted, competing with another roll of thunder. Luthenia scowled. “Sounds like somebody else is silly enough to brave the storm.” She bustled to the front door and threw it wide. Mr. Jeffers stood on the porch with his hat in his hands, dripping wet. Luthenia stepped back and gestured to him. “August! Come on in here.”
    The man shook his head, sending a little shower of raindrops across the porch. “No’m. I’ll get your floor all wet.” Cold wind gusted through the open doorway, carrying the scent of rain. “Won’t stay but a minute.” He looked past Luthenia to Edythe, who’d followed and stood behind Luthenia’s shoulder. “Teacher, the missus sent me to tell you not to come tonight. She worried you’d catch a chill.” He let out a mighty sneeze, then shrugged. “Figure she’s right to worry – sure is some rain!”
    Edythe nodded. “Thank you for saving me the trip, Mr. Jeffers. Please send the girls my regrets. Perhaps, if the storm clears, I can come by tomorrow afternoon – say around three?”
    “We’d be pleased to have you. Tomorrow, then, assumin’ the