The Cowboy Tutor. Linda Ford
the doorway. “Madge?”
Madge struggled to form a thought. A word. “The money. Missing. Stolen.”
Mother slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. She patted Madge’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I took it. I meant to tell you but I—”
“Took it? Why?”
Mother glanced around to make sure they were alone, then whispered. “For Louisa.”
“More medicine?” Madge wouldn’t resent the expense. Louisa had had pneumonia a number of times. The disease left her lungs weak and required all of them to guard her health. Sometimes it seemed, no matter how hard Madge worked, Louisa’s illness ate up way too much of the money. Or the car bit into their savings—though she had figured out how to fix tires on her own, how to adjust the throttle and choke and how to wire things together in hopes they would limp through a few more days. She wished they still had a horse so she could resort to using a wagon. Mentally, she put it on the list. Perhaps someone would trade a horse for her labors. Then she’d need to figure out a way to get enough hay for another animal. She kept her attention on scratching Macat behind the ears, afraid Mother would see her worry and frustration if she lifted her head.
“Not medicine, dear.”
“Then what?” Medicine she understood. What else could there be? Though Mother had a habit of underestimating the expenses and the limited resources for earning money. Father had always protected Mother from the harsh realities of life, so even in these hard times, Mother remained optimistic, always believing things would somehow, as if by magic, fix themselves.
“I want to help Louisa find a husband.”
“You bought a man?” Madge couldn’t decide if she was more intrigued or shocked. How did one go about purchasing a man? How much did it cost? Did you get to select size, color, style? Her thoughts flitted unexpectedly to the man she had bumped into in town. She blinked away the memory of black eyes and dark hair and returned to considering Mother’s announcement.
If one bought a man, was there a money-back guarantee?
Mother pulled a clipping from her pocket and hesitated. “You must promise not to say anything.”
“Certainly.” Her curiosity grew to overwhelming proportions.
Mother unfolded the scrap of paper and handed it to her. “I placed this ad in a paper.”
Madge read the notice. Then she read it again. Mother had advertised for a teacher for Louisa. “It says nothing about marriage.”
Mother sat in Father’s chair—a sure sign of her mental state. Madge watched her closely. Was she hiding something?
“You know there are no eligible young men around. Most of them are in relief camps.”
Madge nodded. The government had created camps for the unemployed young men where they built roads, cut trees and did a number of labor jobs. The idea of work camps was fine. Give young men a place to sleep, food to eat and a job. Get them off the streets. But to her thinking, it only hid the problem. She bit her tongue to keep from saying what she thought of many of the prime minister’s political moves. Surely a smart man, a man from their own province even, could do something to stop this horrible decline.
Mother continued. “The rest are riding the rails, hoping to find a job somewhere or trying to avoid the relief camps.” She sighed long and hard. “I simply can’t stand by and let Louisa turn into an old maid, having to depend on her sisters to take care of her as she gets older.”
“Ma, she’s only nineteen.” She smiled as Macat jerked her head up and meowed as if agreeing with her.
“I was married and had her by that age.”
“I know.” Those were different times. Mother knew as well as anyone. No point in reminding her. “So the money…?”
“I used it to buy the ad for a tutor.”
“You actually found someone?”
“I did. A very nice man who starts today.”
Madge opened her mouth. Shut it with an audible click. Tried again. “You did all this behind my back?”
Mother smiled gently. “I felt I had to do something. I know we need the money for the payment, but I thought the wages from Mrs. Crebs and the other jobs you’ve picked up would be enough.” She paused a beat. “On my part, I can cut down on expenses. We don’t need meat as often as we’ve been eating it. We’ll trust God to provide and do our best to live wisely.” Her look begged Madge to understand.
None of them had expected Mrs. Crebs to be so miffed.
She squeezed Mother’s hands. “And this man you hired?”
“He seems ideal for Louisa—gentle, well-educated…. I know I can count on you to do everything you can to help me in this. But please don’t say anything to Louisa about my ulterior motives. You know how offended she’d be.”
Madge nodded, even though she felt as if she had hung her sister from a tree to be plucked like ripe fruit. “You’re sure he’s a good gentleman?”
“If he’s not, I will personally run him off the place with a hot poker.”
Madge chuckled at the sudden spurt of spunk her mother revealed. Sometimes she suspected she and Mother were more alike than Mother cared to confess. “I’ll do what I can to help the cause, but if I suspect he’s not suitable, I will be right at your side with another hot poker.”
The two of them laughed. Mother patted Madge’s hand. “I can always count on you.” Her expression faltered. “However, I didn’t expect my decision would come at such a bad time.”
Madge couldn’t bear to have her mother worried. “I’m sure things will work out.” She wouldn’t burden her mother with the fear rippling up her spine.
Mother nodded, accepting Madge’s reassurance. “Now I best get back to the kitchen before the girls wonder what we’re up to. By the way, the gentleman arrives this afternoon.”
Madge waited for her departure, then studied the funds in the can. How was she to pay the mortgage? She’d have to find another job, earn more money, perhaps speak to the banker about a few days’ grace. She rubbed the back of her neck. Where was she going to find someone willing and able to pay for any kind of work?
Lord, I can’t help but worry. The idea of the four of us being out on the street is enough to cause me concern. Lord, it’s beyond me to see how to fix this. However, I know You are in control. Please send an answer my way before we lose our house.
Maybe this tutor, poor unsuspecting man, might offer a future for Louisa. Madge giggled, picturing him. No doubt gray-haired and asthmatic. But Louisa would never pay a mind to such things so long as he was attentive and educated. She paused to pray he was everything Mother expected before she returned the can to the desk and closed the drop lid. Time to return to washing and ironing. She sat Macat on the floor and headed back upstairs with her pet purring at her heels.
A while later, dinner over, she hung about waiting for the arrival of the expected man.
Louisa had primped and put on her best dress. She had gathered up her favorite books. “I’m going to ask him if he’s read these. That way I’ll know what we can talk about.”
Madge never quite understood Louisa’s fascination with books and ideas. Since she was small, Madge preferred to be outdoors. It turned out to be a good thing she’d followed her father relentlessly, begging to help. After his death three years ago, she stepped into his role and took care of the chores and so much more. They’d had to let most of the land go, but Madge had insisted they must keep enough for a milk cow and her calf. Again, she wished she’d kept a horse, as well. But looking back was useless.
Sally shoved aside the stockings she had been carefully darning. “I’m going