The Teacher's Star

over her, reached into his pocket. Taking out the folded document, he straightened it for her.
Around the sweaty head snuggled against her shoulder, the skeptical woman eyed the names. Then she lifted triumphant eyes to his. With a snort of triumph, she said, “You did not sign it as Rol Anders. Just another invented name, and a foreign one at that.”
“Actually, it’s another secret, I suppose, rather than another invented name. Ronaldo Andretti is my given name.” It was his turn to snort derisively. “I learned fast that I wouldn’t get ahead in this world by using it, so I adopted an American name.”
Prejudice appeared to be something she could understand. Her face softened as she nodded silently. Then she spoke so softly that he would have missed her words if he were sitting on the sofa.
“I know how unfair attitudes can be. It’s why we can’t stay married.”
Delia kissed Eenie’s brow as the little girl looked up in response to the woman’s words. “Don’t you wanna be my ma?”
A small, sad smile flitted across the woman’s lips and then was gone. It brought a panic to Rol’s gut. She had to be his. Seeing her in his home and with his child made this marriage feel so good and right. Why couldn’t she see that Eenie needed her?
Again, she spoke softly as she almost crooned her words to the child. “Eenie honey, you’re too young to understand adults and some of their strange ways. I’m different than you and your father. That would make some folks believe we shouldn’t be married.”
This time Rol spoke. “Different how?”
Her face bore a confused look, like she’d expected him to already know. The expression baffled him, but not nearly so much as her next words did.
“Different like the palomino from the black and white you chose today.” After speaking, she tucked her face into the child’s hair, hiding from him.
He tried to make sense of her comparison. “You think I’d want a blonde instead of a brunette with beautiful creamy skin?”
Peeking an eye out of the hair, she mumbled, “You think I have beautiful skin?”
Carefully, gently, he put a hand under her jaw and lifted her face to look at him. “I’ve admired you greatly. Everything about you is beautiful.”
She searched his face for any trace of deception before smiling. “I’ve never had a sweeter compliment. Thank you.”
“Now that you know I want you for a wife—” His voice paused as he searched for a way to phrase his next words, mindful of his daughter’s presence. “—in that intimate way, maybe you won’t think I’d rather be married to a blonde.”
His words didn’t reassure her. Frustration twisted her lovely mouth as distress shone clearly in her eyes. Something was wrong here, and he couldn’t figure it out to fix it.
A sigh from deep inside her only added to his unease. When she spoke, it was like someone ripped the words from her lips.
“I’m passing. I think that makes it illegal for the two of us to marry.”
He shook his head as if to clear away a fog in his brain. “You didn’t plan to stay in Belle? Where were you passing to in the future?”
She shook her head and a tendril of lovely dark hair escaped to fall across her cheek. Rol reached out to feel it, touching her face. Delia leaned into that hand as a small sob escaped her.
“No, you aren’t getting what I’m saying.” Pulling away from his hand, she soberly spoke the words that made clear her concern about being married. “My mother and I were once slaves.”

Chapter 6
Eenie snuggled down under her covers. She’d said her prayers and planted a noisy good night kiss on both her father’s and Delia’s cheeks. In fact, she’d allowed Delia to give her a good all over washing as well as to brush out her wild hair. It now lay in a braid over the girl’s shoulder.
After Delia’s announcement, Rol quickly realized the rest of their conversation needed to take place away from his daughter’s young ears. Hatred for someone because of race was beyond Eenie’s scope of experience. And, for now, he wanted to keep it that way.
When Delia announced that she’d once been a slave, Eenie looked up with wide eyes before gasping out, “Isn’t that pitiful, Pa? Someone tried to hurt Miss Perkins.”
Those words showed her innocence. She had no concept of slavery. The girl had little schooling and, evidently, Delia hadn’t taught about it in school.
He’d changed the subject, asking Eenie if she’d eaten at the main house. When he learned she had, he declared it was bedtime.
Delia’s face relaxed. The relief on it showed her gladness at the change in topic. Taking over, she’d readied the little girl for the night.
Now, Eenie’s eyes closed and a little smile played about her lips. She radiated a contentment he hadn’t seen in the girl. At least, not since her mother’s death.
Thoughts of his wife’s death reminded him that any marriage would be for Eenie’s sake. Still, he’d work hard to make this wife happy. His soul couldn’t take knowing he might be responsible for a second woman’s death.
Touching his wife’s arm, he pointed to the door. Taking the hint, she walked in front of him. Exiting, Rol softly shut the bedroom door.
Turning, he saw her standing stiffly by the door, carpet bag in hand. “Are you going somewhere?”
She shrugged with pretended indifference. “I have no idea what to do, Mr., uh, Andretti.”
He smiled at her overly formal tone. Good, he thought, she’s as nervous as I am about this talk.
Reaching out, he gently pried the bag from her hands. Moving to his bedroom, Rol set it on a chair by the armoire. Pivoting to go back out to her,