Dakota Dusk by Lauraine Snelling

door.
    The door opened and Mrs. Larson greeted them with a wide smile. “Come in, come in. Why, if I’d knowed you were coming, we could have set another two places at the table for dinner.” She wiped her hands on her skirt-length white apron and gestured them toward the sitting room. “Can I get you some coffee? We’ll be having dessert in just a minute. Lars, look who’s here, Miss Stenesrude and Widow Sampson.”
    After exchanging a conspiratorial glance, Rebekka and Mrs. Sampson followed their hostess. Nothing had changed. Give Mrs. Larson a moment and look out. When she started talking it took stronger hearts than theirs to stop her.
    She bustled them into sitting on the horsehair sofa in the sitting room and met herself going out again.
    “I . . . I need to talk with Mr. Larson,” Rebekka called to the retreating back. The woman bustled on.
    “Whew,” Mrs. Sampson drew the back of her hand across her forehead as if to wipe away a flood of perspiration. She leaned back against the stiff sofa and turned to warm Rebekka with a smile. “Can’t say as I ever am prepared when I see Elmira after a time. She talks faster than a tornado spins.” She kept her voice to a whisper.
    Rebekka clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and forced herself to sit perfectly erect, her feet primly together, her shoulders back and chin high. That was the only way to keep from turning into a mound of mush. Surely this couldn’t be worse than facing a class of twenty brand-new students, ranging in age from five to fifteen. She bit her lip. Yes, it could. What if she had to lie? Why, oh, why couldn’t Adolph keep his hands and lascivious thoughts to himself? Only with sternest self-control did she keep herself from shuddering.
    Mr. Lars Larson sported the sunburned face and pure white forehead of a man who spent his days in the blazing Dakota sunshine. No ruler could have drawn a more perfect line than the one his hatband had done, dividing his face. He wore the sober look of a proper Norwegian upon learning that women were calling upon him in his professional capacity as school superintendent.
    “Now, what can I do for you ladies?” he asked after all the proper greetings were exchanged.
    A movement at the door caught Rebekka’s attention. Two shining faces with smiles fit to crack a rock, peered around the corner. The girl, braids pulling her hair into some semblance of order, waved and then hid her giggle behind her hands.
    “Come, children, say hello to your teacher and then go about your chores.” Mr. Larson shot an apologetic glance at the women sitting on his sofa and beckoned the children. Two smaller replicas tagged behind the boy and girl who were her students.
    “Hello, Inga and Ernie.” Rebekka reached out her hands to clasp those of the towheaded children and draw them to her side. “Maybe you could introduce me to your brother and sister.”
    “This is Mary and Johnny. They’re twins.” Inga took over as the oldest.
    “They’re babies. They don’t go to school like us big kids.” Ernie puffed out his skinny chest, visible under the straps of his faded overalls.
    The two little ones clung to the chair where their father sat. When Rebekka greeted them, they each stuck one finger in their mouths and ducked their heads in perfect unison.
    “They always do everything the same.” Ernie turned his serious blue-eyed gaze on his teacher. “Ma says that’s ‘cause they was borned at the same time.”
    Rebekka nodded. She dredged up every bit of schoolmarm control to keep from ordering the children out to play so the adults could talk.
    Mr. Larson must have sensed her feelings for he patted the twins on the bottom of their matching overalls and sent them out of the room. “Inga, Ernie, enough now. You go help your ma.”
    The children filed out of the room, sending smiles over their shoulders.
    Mr. Larson turned as they left. “And Inga, close the door behind you.”
    Rebekka breathed a sigh of relief at