Yes, I'm still at it! At least, Blogger is -- I'm spending much of the day lying on the couch with my leg elevated, since I had a hip replacement on September 29th.
Scroll down for the first three excerpts. In this fourth excerpt, it's the first day of Cowbird Creek's first school.
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Bronka’s chatter from the kitchen roused Karol well before dawn — though he might have been able to keep sleeping if he’d been less uneasy. He ignored it as long as he could before he gave up and got out of bed.
He had asked Bronka whether she would rather have him escort her to the school — though he would have to leave her there before it opened and head to the mill — or have their mother go with her instead. She laughed at him. “Of course I’ll go with you, silly! You won’t tell me not to talk so much, or complain that I should be staying home instead and learning to cook everything Mama’s mama did. You understand.”
He understood how much she wanted to learn, and how happy she was to be going to school at last. But he also understood what she might be facing, one of the oldest pupils and yet knowing so little of what the others already knew, and most likely not a one of them speaking anything but English. Or if they did, it would probably be German. And her teacher had no idea how to help such a student, unless she had learned since he spoke to her.
He had always taken care of Bronka as much as he could, ever since she was born alive and healthy – Mama’s miracle, after the two babies she lost. Coming to America, struggling to help support the family, shouldn’t have changed that. He should have practiced English with Bronka more often. He should have found her English books to read, and coaxed her to read with him. But it was too late for wishing.
They reached the school, and Karol led Bronka to the stone bench he himself had set in the grassy yard where the younger children could run about and play at dinnertime. It was chilly for September, but Mama had loaned Bronka her thick winter coat, much warmer than Bronka needed. He wished he could stay until more pupils arrived. Or until the teacher did. She was such a little thing, maybe shorter than Bronka, and finer-boned. She might need help with something.
But he could hardly risk losing his work at the mill. He chucked Bronka under the chin. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be counting on you to tell me all about it when I get home.”
Bronka beamed at him. “Of course I’ll be fine. You said the teacher seemed nice, didn’t you?”
Karol just nodded. He had said that, and bit his tongue not to say what else he thought. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He waited until he reached the corner before he looked back. Bronka was sitting very straight, looking at the steps to the school as one might look toward the gates of Heaven.
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And here's the Kindle edition's preorder link.
Until next time!
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