Broken Limbs, Mended Hearts, Regina Jennings [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

hour or so setting up the machine, and then it takes four strong horses and two men to keep it going.” Mr. Eden wasn’t going to admit defeat.

Adam pitched in the last of the wheat from the wagon. “But once it gets going, the man-hours are just a fraction—”

Uh-­oh. What was that noise? Something inside the thresher had broken loose and was spinning free. The wheat had stopped feeding in, so it was probably the rasp-­bar cylinder. Mr. Granger stopped the horses, and Adam waited until all the parts were still before peering down the chute.

“What’s the matter?” said Mr. Clovis. “Did it break?”

Adam could see a string from the sheaves wrapped around the shaft. He should have been more careful. “Just a quick repair and then it’d be going again, but I think you all understand the process. How’s that grain look, Mr. Granger?”

Mr. Granger plunged his hand into Clovis’s hat and let his fingers trail through the kernels of wheat. “Amazing. That’s really something!”

“Yes, it is,” Dr. Paulson jumped in. There was a smidgen of respect in their eyes that hadn’t been there before. “And while we wait for your fields to completely ripen, I’m here to do some research and finds ways that we might be able to improve agriculture in your area.”

“Research what?” Mr. Eden stroked his glossy beard.

“I’ll take soil samples from different areas for tests. It might be that we can find crops that are more suited to your land than what you’re planting now. Also, I’ll offer lectures on the latest farming techniques. The threshing machine is just one advancement that’s been discovered recently. From looking at your primitive equipment, I’d say there are a lot of things you could learn from me.”

Adam was proud of his association with Dr. Paulson. He was. But sometimes the professor didn’t read a crowd as well as he read those scientific charts.

“Not meaning to be snide, sir,” said young Calvert Ansel, who’d graduated the year after Adam, “but what makes you an expert on farming? You ain’t a farmer. You’re a teacher.”

Dr. Paulson took the question with a grace that caught Adam off guard. “Excellent observation, young man. I’ve studied the subject and had educational opportunities that your local school can’t provide. I was taught by the most highly regarded professors in my field. And what qualifications does your schoolmaster have here in Oak Springs?”

Adam instantly remembered old Miss Hoyt. For all intents and purposes, she’d retired about a decade before she’d stopped holding classes. Someone should have replaced her years ago. Was she still teaching?

“No qualifications that I know of,” said Mr. Clovis. “Did she even take her teacher’s exam?” He looked to Mr. Eden.

Mr. Eden’s face grew hard. “I challenge this machine to a contest,” he said in his quiet way. “Give me time for my crops to ripen, and then I wager that me and my crew can winnow a wagonload of wheat faster than this machine can.”

Adam was stunned. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? He knew his thresher could beat a crew of men, but would beating a respected man like Mr. Eden help his cause, or would he be resented even further? And what would Bella think?

“I have an excellent idea,” Dr. Paulson said. “I don’t want to take advantage of your unfamiliarity with the process. We know that the machine will win, but we don’t want you to pay the price. So I’ll stand in the place of losing on both sides. Consider these terms—­if Mr. Eden wins, then Adam and I will leave Oak Springs and never return. We’ll never trouble you again. On the other hand, if Adam and his machine win, then the first obligation is that you gentlemen must guarantee Adam Fisher five hundred acres of crops to harvest. You’ll be charged his customary rate of five percent of the product, which you will find is very reasonable. I don’t doubt that you’ll be soliciting him to do even more.”

Dr. Paulson straightened for his next pronouncement, his suit coat stretching over his thin chest. “In addition to that, if we prevail, you’ll allow me to send one of my teaching students from the college to teach at your school. I’ll bear the expense for the first year, but I think you’ll find the benefits of an educated teacher worth your future investment. That will be the obligation, unless you can provide a teacher with superior credentials.”

Adam rocked on his heels. Everyone had to realize what a bargain that was. Even if they lost the contest, the town was going to gain from it.

But of everyone, Mr. Eden seemed the least pleased.

“I don’t aim to lose,” he said. “And while we have nary agin you coming back into town if you lose, if those are the terms you set, then I’m willing to abide them.”

“Are you sure, Ben?” Mr. Granger looked unduly concerned. “You don’t have to accept their terms.”

Why would Mr. Eden worry about old Miss Hoyt? Surely he knew that his own daughter had a hard time passing her tests in school and that Miss Hoyt did nothing to help her.

Before Adam could puzzle it out, Ben Eden turned and stomped toward his farm. Just as well. Adam had a crowd of men gathering around the thresher, inspecting and exclaiming over the golden wheat in Mr. Granger’s hat.

It had been a successful day after all.

five

All y’all who’ve finished your compositions may go. I’ll stay put a mite longer if anyone has questions.” Bella balanced her chalk on top of the blackboard and dusted off her hands. She didn’t have the experience Miss Hoyt had possessed, but she worked hard to make sure her students understood their lessons. And if it was something that neither of them could figure out, she wasn’t above recruiting a parent to explain it differently. If someone wanted to learn, there was always a way.

In a stampede of leather-­soled boots and bare feet, the classroom emptied, leaving only a