Chapter Sixteen
Although he had toldMarian to stay outside, Cole could hear her footsteps gingerly crossing the threshold of the schoolhouse. She drew in a sharp breath as she took in the state of the place.
Desks lay on their sides, with broken slates littering the floor. Marian’s table had also been pushed over, and the books lay scattered about, some of them with pages ripped out. Nothing had been left untouched; even the pail that held water for the children to drink had been flung across the room. Cole bent down and picked up the little stone he’d given Marian earlier. Uncertain what to do with it considering there wasn’t anywhere to set it, he added it to the fossils and rocks in his pocket.
After a quick look around to ensure whoever had done this wasn’t still in the building, Cole returned to Marian. Unshed tears made her eyes shine as she tried to place torn pages back into a book.
“This is one of Mrs. Payne’s from the library,” she said with a quivering voice.
“I’m sure she’ll understand.” Cole gently pried the book from her hands, and she collapsed into him. He bent to set the book on the edge of an overturned desk before wrapping his arms around her.
Neither of them said anything for a moment. He couldn’t tell if Marian was finally letting the tears fall, but her breath shuddered against him, and he held her tighter. Half of him wished to hold her like this forever, and the other half barely repressed an urge to run out of the schoolhouse, find whoever had done this, and ensure he knewexactlyhow Cole felt about it.
And then there was the awful thought in the back of his head that told him he couldn’t protect her. Even though keeping people safe was his job, he was failing with Marian—the one person in this town who meant the most to him.
What sort of man couldn’t keep the woman he cared for safe? The thought was like cold water running down his back.
Marian pulled away, and he reluctantly let her go, even as the fear still gripped the back of his mind.
“Who would do this?” she said in a shaky voice as she ran the back of her hand over her eyes.
“I don’t know.” Cole attempted to keep his voice even. “Does anything look like it’s missing?”
Marian glanced around. “I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell.”
Cole’s stomach clenched. He’d hoped this was simply a case of theft. But if it wasn’t . . . This combined with the rock thrown through the window indicated someone in town either wasn’t happy with the schoolhouse or wasn’t happy with Marian—or both.
Next to him, Marian straightened and ran her hands over her skirts. “I’d like to set the room to rights. The children shouldn’t arrive tomorrow to find the schoolhouse in such disarray. Perhaps then I’ll be able to see if anything was taken.”
Cole nodded, and they went to work. Marian’s inclination had been correct, and she discovered nothing missing from the schoolhouse. They left their finds from the river on her table and Marian locked the door behind them.
“I must have forgotten to do this earlier,” she said as she turned the key.
“It shouldn’t have mattered,” he replied. Marian—and the town—shouldn’t need to worry about someone entering the schoolhouse with ill intentions.
She was quiet as he walked her home. He wished he could come up with the right words to say to assure her that she was safe—that nothing like this would ever happen again, so long as he could help it.
But he couldn’t, and it ate at him with each step they took.
