Anna's Blizzard by Alison Hart

Author:Alison Hart [Hart, Alison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781561459278
Publisher: Peachtree Publishers
Published: 2015-11-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Miss Simmons’s face went ashy gray, and Anna wondered if she was going to faint again. But then the teacher turned away and began gathering up the lunch pails.

“Boys! Stop that!” Ida hurried to the front of the room to break up another squabble between William and George.

Anna was lifting the lid off a pail when a muffled sob caught her attention. She peered sideways. Miss Simmons was crying. Tears dripped down her cheeks, plinking like raindrops on the lid of a lunch pail.

Miss Simmons isn’t much older than Ida, Anna realized. And she’s from a fancy city where they don’t have rattlers or whiteouts. No wonder she’s scared out of her wits.

Suddenly Anna felt sorry for the school ma’am from back East. Anna and most of her classmates had lived through blizzards before so it wasn’t quite as frightening to them.

Gently she touched the teacher’s sleeve. “Maybe we won’t be snowbound, Miss Simmons,” she said quietly.

“I surely do hope you’re right, Anna,” Miss Simmons whispered.

Ida bustled back. “The room is getting chilled,” she said. “We mustn’t let the fire die down. We have to keep the little ones warm.”

Miss Simmons nodded. Then she took a shuddering breath. When she finally turned toward Ida, her eyes were clear. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you, Ida.”

“We could bring in the rest of the wood and the cow chips from the lean-to,” Anna suggested, “before the snow gets too deep.”

“No, no.” Miss Simmons shook her head. “I can’t send someone outside in this weather. Not after hearing those horrid tales!”

“Did you find any food to share?” Ida asked.

“A boiled egg, two pieces of taffy, a chaw of jerked meat, and a handful of dried plums,” Anna recited as she picked through the tins.

“I found a baked potato, half a jam sandwich, a biscuit, and three pickles,” Miss Simmons said. “Why that’s almost a feast!” she added with forced gaiety.

Ida frowned. “It’ll have to do. At least we can melt snow for water. I’ll check to make sure the kettle is full.”

Anna put the lids back on the pails. As she worked, she chewed on the tip of her braid. She could hear the wind raging outside. She placed her palm on the wall in front of her. The sod blocks were freezing despite the heat from the stove. She looked up at the ceiling. Unless they kept the stove going, snow would build up on the roof. She’d heard tales of roofs collapsing from the weight.

The need for wood, for heat, was great, Anna knew. She pictured the lean-to. It was only about twenty yards from the front stoop. Could one person get to it and back safely?

A grand idea came to her. She ran over to John Jacob. He was stretched on the bench, his eyes closed, as he and the others listened to Eloise read from her book.

“John Jacob!” she whispered in his ear, startling him.

“W-wha—?” He flailed his arms, lost his balance, and rolled off the bench onto the floor.

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