Boldly Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Keystone 

Lorna arrived in Keystone that night. When she stepped off the train at the little station, she was suddenly vaguely aware that she was creating a sensation. The station had been littered with lazy figures, draped here and there, with curling smoke ascending slowly from corncob pipes. But at her appearance, the pipes vanished and the men stood suddenly at attention. Lorna was the only passenger getting off at Keystone. Not many passengers did come to Keystone, let alone young women. The bewildered and exhausted young girl found herself surrounded by a crowd of rough gallants.

"Welcome t' Keystone, Miss."

"Ya married?"

"I kin get yer things fer ya."

"Where're ya stayin, Miss?"

Flustered, Lorna answered questions left and right, best as she could. Her trunk was taken, likewise her carpetbag, by whom, she wasn't sure. Various boarding houses were suggested when she replied that she didn't know yet where she was staying, and before she knew it, she was being deposited on the doorstep of a certain Mrs. Sullivan.

Mrs. Sullivan came to the door promptly, shooing away the small crowd that had followed Lorna from the station, and pulled the girl inside.

"Come in, my dear, come in. I do declare, it's been a long time since a young lady has shown up in Keystone. I'm afraid the men out here haven't much opportunity to practice their manners. I am sorry. I hope they weren't too much of a bother. They can be so persistent at times. Oh, but you're safe here, my dear. Don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I'll make certain they keep their distance."

During this lengthy monologue, all delivered at about the speed of a train, the plump, graying little woman had taken Lorna's hat and bags and was already escorting her up a narrow staircase.

"I'm assuming you must be the new schoolteacher?" Mrs. Sullivan spoke over her shoulder. At Lorna's nod, she continued. "Good, good. I was hoping they'd send somebody young... the old spinsters never do well with the children, if you ask me. Too much time since they were children themselves. Since you're the teacher, I won't be asking anything for the room and board. Oh, you needn't protest, my dear. I know well how meager a teacher's salary can be. I taught myself for four years at Bright River school in Pennsylvania, before I was married and came west. I hope the young'uns will behave for you." Mrs. Sullivan had by this time reached a little room at the end of the hall and threw the door open hospitably.

It was small, and sparsely furnished, but scrupulously clean and comfortable-looking. An iron bedstead with a patchwork quilt over the mattress, a little washstand and basin with a large round mirror overhead, a comfortable rocker situated near a little fat woodstove, a large window with gingham curtains, and an embroidered cross stitch above the little bed. That was all... but it was all that Lorna needed and she sank gratefully onto the bed as Mrs. Sullivan opened the little closet and began to hang her dresses inside, chattering all the while.

"So many dresses with this tartan pattern," she smiled. "And that red hair and green eyes. I suppose you must be a Scot." Lorna nodded, her eyes suddenly lighting.

"I'll let you get your rest now, dearie. I know you must be simply exhausted after that dreadful train ride. Breakfast at seven thirty, dinner at noon, supper at seven. In the morning, you'll want to go down and see the school, I suppose. Lessons will probably be starting Monday, now that you've arrived. It's Thursday now, so you'll have a few days to be situated. I really am so glad you've come, dear. I do hope you will like it here." and with these kind words and a benevolent smile, Mrs. Sullivan deposited the lamp on the little bedside table and went out, closing the door behind her. Lorna glanced about the room once more, noting with a sudden feeling of comfort, that the cross stitch bore the words, "So that we may boldly say, the Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me."

She had suddenly an odd sense that she had somehow... in some way... come home.