A Good Man for Katie by Marie Patrick Page A

purpose. Nothing was ever taken. All the books lined neatly on the shelf were in place. Pencils, paper, and small chalkboards were in their assigned spots.
    Kathryne shrugged and wandered into the main room. On her first day of teaching, she had taken the rows of desks and moved them into smaller groupings in accordance with the different ages of the children she taught, which made the most sense to her. A six or seven year old shouldn’t have to learn the same lessons as a ten year old or a sixteen year old.
    Her smile widened as she moved closer to her desk at the front of the room and saw the big, shiny apple left for her. She looked for a note, but her mysterious benefactor had once again failed to leave one.
    She grabbed the big bell from the desktop, walked toward the door and rang it. The children rushed inside, roses in their cheeks from the chill in the air, their laughter a contagious entity that filled her heart as they hung up their sweaters and took their seats.
    “Good morning, children.”
    “Good morning, Miss O’Rourke.” Oh, how she loved the sound of that greeting and the bright faces smiling at her.
    Time flew by, which never ceased to amaze her. As always, the children seemed to absorb knowledge like sponges, which thrilled Kathryne and before she realized it, the school day was over. “Sarah, would you please collect the books and put them on the shelf? Children, please bring your papers to my desk.”
    As Walter approached her desk, paper in hand, she asked, “Would you mind if I walked home with you today?”
    The boy shook his head, an impish grin on his lips, though his face flamed to match the color of his bright red hair. He waited with her while she collected her reticule and the letter to her father. She slung her shawl over her arm and closed the door behind her.
    “Are you enjoying your lessons?” she asked as they walked side by side, Walter swinging his lunch pail in time with each step he took.
    “Most of ‘em,” he admitted as he kicked at a rock in the dirt road and sent it skittering. “I don’t like arithmetic, but I really liked the story you started reading to us.”
    “I’m glad. The Adventures of Oliver Twist is one of my favorites. I hope it’ll become one of yours.”
    They cut through the town square, walking along the crushed stone path past the bandstand. The smell of pine scented the clean mountain air.
    “Mama!” The boy shouted as soon as he let himself into the enclosed porch behind the kitchen of the home he shared with his mother. He passed through the door into the tidy kitchen and dropped his lunch pail on the table with a clang. “Mama!”
    Kathryne entered the kitchen as well and laid her reticule on the table beside Walter’s lunch pail. The smell of simmering beef stew made her mouth water. Aside from the piece of bread she’d had for breakfast and the apple someone had left for her, she hadn’t eaten.
    Laurel rushed into the kitchen through a door that separated the living quarters from the small postal office at the front of the house.
    “Kate! How wonderful to see you!” She bent low to receive a kiss from her son then rushed toward her, a wide smile on her lips to wrap her in a warm hug. As Laurel had predicted not too long ago, they had become fast friends. “What brings you to my door?” She fixed the boy’s shirt collar and gave permission for him to go fishing, doing two things at once as was her habit.
    Kathryne pulled the letter from her reticule. “I’d like to mail this.”
    Laurel read the address on the envelope. “So, you’ve finally taken my advice and written to your folks.”
    “You were right, Laurel. They deserve to know where I am. They deserve to know I’m safe and happy.”
    “But you’re still afraid.”
    “You don’t know my father.” Kathryne frowned as a shiver raced down her back. She loved her father, but sometimes, he just didn’t understand. Raising girls had been difficult for him and he often