“That’s Conchita Sanchez.” Mack washed both mugs and set them in the dish drainer. “She and her husband work out on Preston Ranch. Rose and Ivy are the youngest of six or seven kids. All the others have already graduated and left home. You don’t have to worry about them. Conchita and John are strict, and they don’t put up with any sass. Rose and Ivy are also active in my Future Farmers of America class. They show steers at the local fair, and as far as I know, they’re good kids.”

“That helps.” Lily picked up a dish towel, dried the cups, and put them away. “Now if I could just figure out what to do about this job offer.”

“Make peace with it,” Mack suggested. “Get out a piece of paper and write down the pros and cons of each job—the one you have now and are comfortable doing, and then the one that Sally offered you. Make a decision and then forge ahead with no regrets.”

It sounded like good advice, so she went up to her room, got out a notebook, and began to write. When she finished, she was amazed to see that the side with Sally’s offer had the most pros. She’d have to think about it another day or two, but she liked the idea better and better.

She was about to close the drop-down flap of the secretary when she noticed the journal again. Still feeling like she was reading a friend’s personal diary, she opened it and turned the first two pages. This entry was dated May 1863:

I have no heart left to break. It’s all shattered into a million pieces that will never be put back together. I hate being under my brother’s thumb, and hearing him curse my son every day, but we have no choice. My niece treats Matilda like her own chambermaid, and Matilda rebels. There is so much tension in this place that I wish the Union soldiers would have shot me instead of William. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the fact that Matilda needs me. I’ve started taking in sewing for extra money, but Walter requires nearly all of it for our room and board. The rest I’m saving to go home when this miserable war ends. Maybe we can reclaim our home there, if there’s anything left.

Part of Lily wanted to read more, but the desperation in Ophelia’s words broke her heart again. Now that she’d started reading the journal, she intended to read it all, but she’d have to do it in small doses. She flipped over to the last page and was surprised to see her own mother’s handwriting.

“Good Lord,” she gasped as she realized that this wasn’t just a journal Vera had picked up at an estate sale. By her mother’s writing, it must mean that this was a history of her own.

Lily closed the book and put it back in the secretary, vowing that she’d read it more slowly now that she realized what she had in her possession. She thought about her ancestor, Ophelia, and the circumstances she was living in during the Civil War.

Lily had a home that had been left to her by her parents. She’d never had to worry about coming back to nothing like Ophelia did. Lily had two kids who’d disappointed her, but like Ophelia, she still loved them both—even if both of them had pulled some crazy stunts. A mother might not like her children at times, but she always loved them.

Chapter Six

Lily could feel the angst in the car on Tuesday morning when she drove to the school. Of course Holly had dressed in a pair of her best jeans and the boots she’d gotten for Christmas. Her cute little pink hoodie was zipped up to her neck, so Lily had no idea what kind of shirt was under it—she just hoped that it was school appropriate. Her makeup was perfect, and her hair had been curled. Braden wore a pair of jeans—thank God they were pulled up to his waist and not showing his underwear—his oldest faded black hoodie, and a T-shirt with Blake Shelton on the front. Hopefully, the school didn’t have a problem with writing or pictures on kids’ shirts.

Braden and Holly were both wide-eyed when she pulled into the parking lot in front of the school. There were only somewhere between ten and twenty vehicles there, so she had her choice of spaces. She chose one closest to the front doors.

“Is this the whole thing?” Holly gasped. “Our science department was bigger than this.”

“It’s the whole enchilada.” Lily turned the key, undid her seat belt, and opened the door. “Just be thankful that it’s a small school. You won’t have trouble finding your classes.”

“I’m more thankful that Rose and Ivy ride the same bus as me so I’ll know someone,” Holly said as she and Braden got out of the car and followed their mother.

The last time Lily had been in this building was the night she’d graduated. A few things had changed, but not much. She had no trouble finding the principal’s office. She knocked on the closed door, and a woman’s voice called out, “Come on in.”

Lily eased the door open and let the kids go in ahead of her. “Ruth-Ann Becker? Is that you?” she asked when she was finally in the room.

The woman looked up and smiled. “Lily Miller. It’s good to see you again.”

“Only now it’s Lily Anderson,” Lily said.

Ruth-Ann held up her hand to show off a set of wedding rings. “Ruth-Ann Winkler. I married Justin Winkler. Remember him? He was the geek about two years ahead of us. He’s now the head of an IT firm in Fredericksburg.”

“Who would’ve thought it?” Lily shook her head. “I figured you’d end up with Adam Cooper.”

“I had a little more sense than that,” Ruth-Ann laughed. “I heard you’d moved back. Saw you in church on Sunday, but you were gone before I got to speak to you. Let’s get you two enrolled. The email from their old school with all their records came through just this morning. That’ll make things a lot easier. Y’all have a seat and we’ll get the ball rolling.”

“Are you the principal now?” Lily asked.

“Oh, no, honey, I’m just the school secretary. Mr. Stewart is the principal. You remember Kyle Stewart? He graduated a couple of years before we did. He’s been here fifteen years,” she said, “but I can get your kiddo enrolled.”

While she looked over the paperwork, Ruth-Ann brought Lily up to date on all their old classmates—who was married, who had kids, who wound up in jail, and who was divorced. “It looks like everything is in order. We offer the same classes that you had in Austin, Miz Holly. We can slip you right into accelerated English, math, and science in the morning so you can get the heavy load over with before lunch.” In less than fifteen minutes, she had arranged Holly’s schedule, printed it out, and handed it to her. “Your locker number is right there on the top of the page. If you want a lock, you’ll have to provide it yourself.” She opened a drawer and brought out a blue-and-gold booklet. “Read this, especially the dress code. The school has gray sweats in all sizes for any kids who come to school dressed inappropriately.”

Lily reached out a hand. “Maybe you’d better give me one of those, too.”

Ruth-Ann got another one out and handed it to her. “I wish all parents would read the booklet.”

“I intend to stay on top of things,” Lily said. “I will be calling each week to see if things are going well.”

“Feel free to do that or stop by anytime,” Ruth-Ann said. “If you’d like, I can call down to the elementary school and make sure our principal is still in his office.”