Free Courting Miss Amsel by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page A

decidedly overdressed and out of place.
    Smoothing her hands over the well-fitted waist of her garnet dress, she said, “May I help with anything?”
    Mrs. Libolt’s jaw dropped. “You’re our guest! You just sit down over there – the young’uns’ll keep you company while I finish up. Soon as Hank comes in – he’s seein’ to the barn critters – we’ll commence to eatin’. Won’t be long now. Go ahead an’ sit.” She shooed Edythe the way Edythe often shooed her students from one area to another.
    Edythe allowed Anna to lead her past the table set with dented tin plates and mismatched cutlery to the sitting area. She and Anna sat side by side on the sawdust-stuffed settee, and the toddler brother sidled up to lean on her knees. When Anna tried to get him to talk, he put his finger in his mouth and turned shy. But Henry, Anna, and Will made up for their little brother’s lack of words. Their comments tumbled one on top of the other as they each shared whatever they deemed important.
    Listening to the children’s jabber while their mother worked cheerfully at the stove and occasionally sent a smile in their direction, Edythe felt better about planning these visits to the children’s homes. Not only did the parents seem pleased to host the new teacher for an evening, seeing the children at home gave her a completely different perspective of them.
    On Monday evening, Jane Heidrich, who rarely spoke or smiled in class, nearly bubbled while showing the schoolmarm her chickens and the pigs she’d raised. Clearly, Jane felt more confident on her family’s farmstead than in the classroom, and Edythe had made a mental note to offer the girl lots of encouragement. The two little Ellsworth girls, magpies in class, were apparently overwhelmed by having their teacher in their home on Tuesday. They’d sat wide-eyed and silent through the entire meal. Now, on her third night of visiting, the Libolt children, whom Edythe had dubbed “animated,” proved they were much more energetic in their home than in the schoolhouse.
    By the time Hank Libolt entered the room and Mrs. Libolt called everyone to the table, Edythe was grateful Henry, Anna, and Will exhibited restraint in the classroom; their enthusiastic chatter wore out her ears. They fell silent, however, when their father folded his hands to say grace. Mr. Libolt’s formal, almost terse, way of addressing God differed from Mrs. Kinsley’s ease in speaking with her Maker, but Edythe reminded herself she shouldn’t try to assess prayers. She knew little, if anything, about what it meant to talk to God. She ought to pray for Missy each day, the way Mrs. Kinsley did, but thus far Edythe had allowed her landlady to offer all of the prayers.
    “Here now, Teacher, you hand me your plate.” Mrs. Libolt held her hand toward Edythe, a smile splitting her face. “Guests first.”
    Edythe did as she was bid, and Mrs. Libolt ladled a huge serving of meat and vegetables swimming in a thick brown gravy onto Edythe’s plate. Edythe kept her hands in her lap and waited while Mrs. Libolt filled the other plates. Mr. Libolt and the children plucked up spoons and began to eat as soon as they had food in front of them. A year ago, Edythe would have done the same thing, unaware of societal niceties. But she’d learned more than teaching skills at the normal school – her fellow students, many of whom came from more genteel backgrounds, had unwittingly taught Edythe how to be a lady. So whether those around her exhibited proper manners or not, she chose to do so. Perhaps her students would absorb some of the social graces.
    Anna, seated on Edythe’s left, gave her a puzzled look. “Why ain’t you eating, Miss Amsel? Don’t you like stew?”
    “Oh yes, I like stew a great deal.” Heart stew, though? She wasn’t sure. “I’m letting mine cool a bit so I don’t burn my tongue.”
    Anna grinned. “Just blow on it.” She blew so hard, broth spattered across the table. Mr.