“What time do the children head to school?” Josie asked.
Aunt Polly returned to the stove and stacked the extra pancakes onto an empty plate. “We don’t have a teacher nor a school.”
Josie’s eyes widened, setting her cup down on the table. “What?” It almost didn’t seem possible. With the number of children Josie saw in church, she figured there had to be one.
“We used the church house when Travis was younger, but it’s been hard to keep a teacher. It’s a difficult life in these parts, so the pay gets pretty steep. None of us can pull enough pennies for that. Our children don't have time for studying, especially us farm folk. Too many chores to be done.”
Josie set her coffee down again after taking a sip. “That’s terrible. The children deserve the right to an education.”
Aunt Polly pulled out a chair in front of Josie and settled herself in the seat. “You can say that again. I’ve been teaching Jonas and Ivy basic arithmetic and spelling, but it has been too much with caring for Gideon and Lillian. They need a steady hand and full attention from a true teacher, one who’ll give them the time and patience they deserve.”
Josie’s heart quickened. She sat up straighter, her chin high. “I’m confident I can do that. I was studying for a certificate years ago, but the war took a toll on all of us. I was taking care of my mother and sister when they were ill, and after they died—” Josie paused, digging her fingernails into her palm. She was getting too personal. Aunt Polly couldn’t know what happened next. Marcus was taking control of Josie’s mind again. Seeing his glaring eyes and scar down the right side of his face made her shudder.
She needed to finish her sentence. She needed to say something vague, something that couldn’t be traced back to her husband. “I began managing the estate.”
Half-truth. She managed the estate by doing as her father asked—agreeing to marry Marcus. He restoredBelle Valléein exchange for an heir, but that promise was never fulfilled. Josie’s blood rumbled with rage, her fists clenching. As a punishment, Marcus sold her precious home to Yankees, Yankees who were a part of the army that killed her brothers.
“That must have been hard, my dear,” Aunt Polly said gently.
“Very,” Josie managed through gritted teeth.Harder than you think.
“I am sure the children would appreciate you teaching them.”
Aunt Polly stood and opened the jars situated on the shelf above the stove. She returned with a stone bowl and a large rock. Josie’s eyes squinted as she focused on Aunt Polly’s hands. The woman poured a dried green substance into the bowl and began grinding it.
“What are you doing?” Josie asked.
Aunt Polly’s forehead creased in deep concentration as she continued to grind the substances. “Making a healing liniment for a lady at church. She’s been having terrible headaches all summer.”
Josie’s brows raised.A healing liniment?
Aunt Polly paused and looked her in the face. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
Aunt Polly chuckled. “I promise you I’m no witch.”
Josie’s eyes widened. She blinked twice. “What? I never said you were a witch.”
“I’m the town’s healer. Some say I’m more resourceful than our dear Dr. Gordon.”
Healers.Josie had heard whispers about such things before but had never encountered them herself. She knew of witches, magic, and potions from stories, yet it had never crossed her mind that Travis’s aunt might be one of them.
“How does it work?” Josie asked. “Do you have a healing gift?”
Aunt Polly snorted. “Goodness no. I wish.” She opened an empty jar and scooped the crushed herbs into it. “Many years ago, I suffered a great loss. I was out of my mind with grief, and I wanted to get as far away as possible from here. It was then I suffered fever in the wilderness and nearly died.”
Josie covered her mouth. “My goodness. That’s terrible.”
Aunt Polly tightened the jar’s lid. “I was rescued by a tribe of Blackfeet Indians. I lived with them for almost a month, and while I was there, they taught me their medicine. You see, their cures are far different from ours. They don’t have medical knowledge, only nature. It is so fascinating how God’s creation can cure us.”
Aunt Polly sprinkled more herbs into the bowl as she chuckled again. “You would have found out from town gossip soon enough. I’d rather you hear it from me. After I returned and planted my herb garden, rumors started that I turned into a witch. I’ve had people threaten me, and some come for potions that aren’t even possible.”
Josie chewed her bottom lip and peered downward. If only there was a potion that could take her pain away, to make her forget everything she endured the past seven years. “What kind of potions?”
“Love potions mostly.” Aunt Polly let out a little snort. “When Travis was in school, three girls came out here asking for it because they were infatuated with a boy who didn’t seem to know they existed.”
“What did you do?”
