A Good Man for Katie by Marie Patrick

took a bite of bread, a sip of bitter coffee, the only kind she knew how to make, and began the letter to her parents once more. The words flowed easier this time and within thirty minutes, she signed her name with a flourish at the end.
    For good or bad, the general would know where to find her. More importantly, she hoped he would realize how happy she’d been over the past few weeks and wouldn’t send the cavalry after her.
    Kathryne opened the door, the letter in her hand. A brisk nip in the air made her shiver almost as much as the thought of her father reading the missive. The leaves had yet to change colors, but the coolness of the morning marked the passage of summer to autumn. She grabbed the shawl from a peg near the door and wrapped it around her shoulders against the chill as she left the cottage and strode across the wooden bridge spanning the mountain stream.
    Children played in the yard in front of the schoolhouse, pushing each other on the swings or bouncing up and down on the teeter-totter. Several boys were in the middle of a spirited game of tag. Two girls sat off by themselves, their heads close together as they shared secrets. Kathryne grinned. She and Emeline had sat in that exact position many times over the years.
    Emy.
    The grin disappeared. Three weeks had come and gone since they’d cleaned the teacherage, since the woman she’d known all her life had been so cruel to Chase. Although Emeline had apologized and begged for forgiveness, something had changed, something Kathryne couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her sister’s attitude toward the subject of Chase Hunter seemed cold and uncharacteristic for Emeline’s tender heart. Kathryne couldn’t help but wonder why.
    She hadn’t seen Chase since that day and she missed their chance encounters, missed the thrill that coursed through her each time they met. He seemed to have disappeared although Kathryne knew she had him to thank for fixing the hole in the roof.
    She stopped in the middle of the bridge, concentrated on putting the whole incident behind her, and enjoyed the sight before her. Kathryne couldn’t help the grin that parted her lips as she spotted some of the older boys hovering around a small table where the children ate their lunch if the weather was nice. She suspected one of them of having a crush on her. Small bouquets of flowers, apples, peppermint sticks or lemon drops were left on her desk each morning, though no one admitted to putting the gifts there. Other things appeared around her home, too, such as fresh cut firewood piled at the end of her front porch, again with no note so she could thank the person.
    “Miss O’Rourke! Miss O’Rourke!” One of her favorite students, Mary, an inquisitive girl of ten, rushed toward her, long blonde pigtails bouncing over her shoulders. She held a book in her hand, the cover and binding unmarred. “Look what Papa gave me!”
    There was no denying the excitement in the girl’s voice, nor the happiness sparkling in her light brown eyes.
    “Good morning, Mary.”
    “Will you read it to the class today? Please?”
    Kathryne glanced at the title. She loved Charles Dickens and read all his works, but The Adventures of Oliver Twist remained her favorite.
    “Perhaps later this afternoon.”
    “Thank you, Miss O’Rourke!” The girl ran to join her friends gathered around one of swings hanging from a sturdy tree branch, the book held close to her chest.
    Kathryne opened the door to the schoolhouse, stepped into the small cloakroom and hung her shawl on one of the pegs then bent to straighten a rag-rug on the floor. The bright spot of color, one of several covering the hardwood, always seemed to be out of place in the morning, no matter that she straightened it at the end of each school day. Perhaps some of the boys snuck into the schoolhouse under cover of darkness, but for what purpose? Perhaps it wasn’t the boys. Perhaps it was someone else, but again, she didn’t know the