Tim’s spirits sank upon hearing those words, which must have reflected in his face and posture because Max rubbed the beard on his chin and said, “I think I can convince Simon, don’t worry.”
Max did convince Simon after some negotiating, the specifics of which Tim didn’t learn until later. Tim dropped out of school immediately and began work, showing up on his first day with a black eye. Max said nothing about the bruise and put him to work manning the forge right away. He told Tim to keep it supplied with coal and not let the fire go out. Tim’s hands shook, terrified of making a mistake, and he let the fire die when he became distracted watching Max hammer iron over the anvil.
Max approached him when he noticed the lack of fire, and Tim shrank back, equally afraid of being punished and of being fired. “Now, Tim,” Max chided. “Keep focus on the task I gave you. When you prove you can do that, I’ll give you a more interesting one.”
Tim nodded and felt relief when Max tousled his hair and returned to his work station. It was the first of Tim’s many mistakes, all of which Max reacted mildly to, and with humor occasionally. Once he laughed when Tim melted a strip of iron to liquid that couldn’t be shaped or salvaged after it mixed with the ashes in the forge. Tim felt horrified, but Max said, “You’ll get the hang of it. I’m only laughing because I remember doing that myself as a boy. My father was fit to be tied, but I escaped a thrashing. He swore like the dickens and scolded me for an hour after, but he was a forgiving man beneath his brusque exterior.”
“Much like you,” Tim dared to say.
Max smiled. “Maybe so. I reckon there are worse things to be compared to than my father, God rest his soul.”
Tim looked down. “I hope I am never compared to my father.” When he looked up, all mirth had disappeared from Max’s eyes, replaced by a spark of anger.
“I’m sorry, Tim. I’ve had my suspicions of his treatment of you, but I wasn’t sure.”
Tim shrugged and turned his attention to cleaning up the mess he’d made. The next day, Max informed Tim that he’d spoken with his father and arranged for Tim to live with him, if he so wished. Tim felt surprised, then overjoyed. The day he moved in with Max was the day his life became something worth living.
Nearly two years later, as Tim walked to the telegraph office, he realized that his love for Max far outweighed his fear of his father. He came to a halt and leaned against a hitching post. Covering his forehead with his hand, he thought hard about which telegram would work better in Max’s favor. He shook his head, feeling great distress and confusion. He couldn’t decide, so he didn’t send either. He turned away from his errand and walked home.
*
Charlotte was in love. Every hardship and annoyance slid off her back like ice off a hot plate. She wrote to her mother and gushed about her new beau and all the wonderful things he said and did. She left out the spanking, of course, though it was in the forefront of her mind. She sat at her desk in her room at the boardinghouse and gazed out the window, recalling the discipline over Max’s lap. She decided she wouldn’t like a spanking much harder than what she’d received, but she liked how it made her feel, especially when Max held her in his arms and comforted her afterwards. The spanking had made her feel soft and vulnerable and, as a result, able to enjoy the full benefit of Max’s strong and tender care. She overflowed with a sense of well-being like she’d never experienced before.
Max took her to dinner nearly every evening, despite his long work hours. She felt guilty that the task of quickly building and repairing the schoolhouse furniture, along with keeping up with his other work, caused him fatigue, but she comforted herself by knowing he would be paid by the county. She still awaited word from Tucson regarding the exact sum available. She’d read her contract again, which made no mention of funding, so she wired the superintendent requesting information and payment. She was impatient to receive the money to hand to Max.
A little more than a week after they began courting, Charlotte set out toward Max’s house on a cool Sunday morning, carrying the book she’d promised Tim. Birds chirped around her, adding a spring to her already light step on the dirt path. Max’s house was about a half-mile outside of town, so it was an easy, pleasant walk.
Shortly after the start of her journey, she heard the sound of raised voices ahead. When she rounded the corner and saw who they came from, she stopped. Tim and Simon stood in the middle of the road, engaged in a heated argument.
“I’m not going anywhere, Simon,” Tim said to his father. “I want to stay with Max and continue working for him.”
Simon held a shaking fist up to the boy’s face. “Are you addled? You have less brains than a headless chicken if you think I’ll back down. You are your mother’s son.”
“Good,” Tim replied. “Though I’m about as fortunate in that regard as I am having you as my father. I’m going to stay with Max and remain his employee when I come of age.”