Winning the Schoolmarm: Wyoming Legacy (Wind River Hearts Book 14) Page 3

Mrs. Fitzgerald was still rattling around in the kitchen.

  “I'm afraid Ruth has had some breaks in her education,” he said.

  Ruth shoveled food in her mouth with fierce concentration.

  “Our parents… moved around some, and she wasn't always able to attend school."

  "I can't read," Ruth finally chimed in.

  Cecilia carefully set her fork on the edge of her plate. “Is that why you didn't complete the assignment I gave today?"

  Ruth nodded, her eyes on the table.

  He felt irritation rise. "Did you intend to mention that to me?" He’d just offered her an olive branch, an opportunity to come to him with any problems in the classroom. And she hadn’t mentioned that Ruth ignored an assignment?

  She met his stare pointedly, not looking repentant at all. "I would've if it had become an issue." Her words were level, almost unemotional. She looked at Ruth. "How did you guess the words when you came up to my desk and we talked?"

  He made a disgruntled noise, and she reluctantly included him in the conversation. “I wrote different words on a slate, and each child had to read them aloud to me.”

  Ruth shrugged. “It weren't hard. I just listened to what everybody said. You put the words in the same order.”

  He felt Cecilia's eyes on him but kept his gaze on Ruth. His jaw worked and he dropped a blank mask over his features. For the first seven years of her life, Ruth had been brought up with the same "rules" he had learned at an early age. Pa and Ma had told them to listen. Pay attention. And use everything they saw and heard to their advantage. Obviously, Ruth had done so today.

  “I can help you much better if you tell me the truth," Cecilia said to Ruth. “There’s no shame in not being able to read. We will just start from the beginning."

  Ruth slammed her fork down on the table. "I don't want to sit up front with the little kids. I’m not a baby.”

  Cecilia didn't flinch at his sister’s outburst.

  He touched Ruth’s shoulder. She sent him a sideways glare and then crossed her arms.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald stuck her head through the doorway, but when she caught sight of Ruth’s foolishness, ducked back into the kitchen. He almost got up and joined her.

  "You won't have to move desks,” Cecilia said quietly. “And I won't let anyone else tease you. It might take some hard work, but I know you can do it."

  Ruth shook her head.

  He squeezed her shoulder gently, but his warning was unmistakable.

  He was the one who spoke. "We’ll do what we need to do to make sure she catches up.” It took some doing, but he gave the schoolteacher a warm smile, one filled with sincere promise.

  Cecilia looked at his sister, who still sulked. He saw the stubborn spark in the teacher’s eye.

  Good. It would take some stubbornness to deal with Ruth. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her outburst.

  They’d discussed school before Cecilia’s arrival, and he’d thought they understood each other.

  Obviously, he’d been wrong.

  He’d spent two years in Granbury, working hard to give Ruth a better life. A life that he’d never had a chance to live.

  It didn't matter whether he had to put his foot down or bribe his sister into doing the work. She would learn to read. And she would be a model student. It was already decided.

  3

  After Sunday morning worship services, Cecilia stood awkwardly in the shade of the school. There wasn’t a church building in Granbury, but the school worked fine, with the desks pushed to the sides of the room and several long benches carried in for seating.

  She stared in dismay at the sheer number of people milling about.

  Earlier, she had walked over to the school with Mrs. Fitzgerald. There’d only been a handful of folks in the makeshift pews. When Mrs. Fitzgerald had tried to coerce her into sitting at the very front with John and Ruth, Cecilia had declined in favor of joining her student Minnie and her family near the back.

  It hadn’t mattered.

  It seemed that she couldn’t escape her awareness of John. The schoolroom had excellent acoustics, and she could pick out his voice from the others. He had a fine baritone. And he sang with no shame, seemingly unaware that his voice was noticeable. She’d had to force herself to pay attention to the sermon delivered by one of the ranchers who lived nearby.

  After worship concluded, Mrs. Fitzgerald and John walked toward the boardinghouse. Mrs. Fitzgerald had instructed Cecilia not to worry about the food. There would be plenty to share. Minnie’s family had excused themselves to ready their own picnic, which left Cecilia standing alone.

  Nerves twisted her stomach as she watched all the activity.

  Multiple wagons now skirted the field behind the schoolhouse. Picnic blankets dotted the grass, and people were gathered in clumps, conversing with each other. The men and boys wore their Sunday best with fine hats. The women and girls looked like colorful flowers in their finest dresses. It seemed everyone in the entire county, whether they had children in her schoolroom or not, had congregated to meet the new schoolteacher.

  She lingered in the shade, trying to gather the courage to join one of the clusters of townsfolk. John had told her the picnic was scheduled for the sole purpose of letting folks meet her.

  But everyone here knew each other. She was the outsider. And one thing she knew about herself, she wasn't always easy to befriend.

  “What’s our teacher doing hiding out here?”

  She was startled at John’s question. He approached from the direction of the boardinghouse holding a blanket folded beneath one arm and a big basket in his other hand. "No reason to be nervous. I'll introduce you around."

  Her chin jutted out stubbornly. "I'm not nervous."

  Of course, he saw through her. He switched the basket into his other hand so he could usher her forward with a touch at the small of her back. The smug smile on his lips made her want to slug him.

  When she narrowed her eyes at him, his smile seemed to grow, though his dimple wasn't even showing. Had he goaded her simply to get her moving?

  He introduced her to Asher's mother, Jenny, and Cecilia said hello to Mr. Jamison from the dry goods store. Mr. Jamison was happy to carry the conversation, mentioning the gloves she had considered buying and his pride in his son, whom he wanted to take over the shop when he was older.

  John had abandoned her to deposit the basket on a blanket, which he’d spread not far away.

  The Jamisons introduced her to a family she hadn't met yet, the Vogels.

  “I’m Michael.” The husband put out his hand for her to shake. “This is my wife, Lucy.”

  Lucy had one toddler clinging to her leg, his face buried in her skirts. She held a smaller babe in a jaunty bonnet on her hip. The woman had a shy smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lucy said. “We’ve been hearing good things about you since your interview with the school board.”

  Cecilia’s curiosity was piqued.

  Michael seemed to grasp her confusion. “I work for John.”

  Lucy bestowed a proud smile on her husband. “Michael is a freighter. He delivers the lumber. We moved here last year so he could work for John.”

  Oh. They were obviously in the camp of townsfolk who thought John could do no wrong. The thought made her brain itch somehow. So what if the mayor and head of the school board was popular in town? It didn’t affect her.

  “Our Frederick will be in the classroom in a couple more years.” Lucy rested her hand on the boy’s head tenderly.

  There was something about the motherly gesture that pinched Cecilia’s insides.

  The boy only buried his face further in his mother’s skirts.

  “It’s never too early to start learning. I could lend you a slate if you want to work with him on his letters."

  The young mother's eyes lit up.

  Cecilia couldn't help her awareness of John as he straightened and joined their group, shaking Michael’s hand.

  Lucy
turned to wave at someone across the field.

  "Are you sure there's not anything I can do this week?" Michael asked John, his voice low.

  John smiled easily. “I'm about ready to sign the papers on the steam engine. Of course, it'll take some time to get here."

  “Maybe I could do some repairs in town.”

  She didn’t know the man, but she could hear the distress in his voice.

  “You’ve mentioned repairing Lucy’s chicken coop for weeks. Why don’t you work on that?” John asked. Then, “It’s not your fault the creek dried up. You still work for me, and I’m still paying your salary.”

  Cecilia pretended she hadn't overheard, asking about Lucy’s daughter and the adorable dress she wore. But John's words stuck with her. She knew times had been hard for her family back in Bear Creek. The drought must've affected John's sawmill. She'd heard several comments about it in recent days.

  If he wasn’t able to produce lumber, how could he afford to pay his worker? It was an admirable thing to do. Not that she should be noticing.

  John was perfectly friendly as he excused himself and Cecilia from the Vogels and moved to introduce her to another family, the parents of Jericho and Edward.

  Mrs. Stauck was welcoming. "We were happy to know the boys would be in school this year. Where did you teach last year?”

  This was what Cecilia had been dreading. How did she talk about her last teaching job without revealing how it ended?

  She needn’t have worried. John spoke up. “We are lucky to have contracted Miss White. She's told me a little bit of her plans for the children, and it's all very exciting."

  She was both relieved that John had steered the conversation away from last year and angry at herself for letting him do so. She didn't need him to take care of it for her. Or perhaps it was more that she didn’t want to need his help.

  She was quiet as he introduced her to Bart and Dorothy Koch. Bart ran the livery in town.

  The children were restless, and soon everyone was picnicking, families chatting with each other as they ate. Mrs. Fitzgerald had made a bounty of food, and Cecilia found herself settled on one corner of the picnic blanket with John at her side and Mrs. Fitzgerald across.

  "Where is Ruth?”

  "She's over with her friend, Lee.”

  Cecilia followed his gaze to see his sister on a blanket with Lee and his family. The children had their heads bent together as they whispered.

  Cecilia nibbled at the fried chicken on her plate. She was conscious of all the eyes on her. It made her appetite nonexistent.

  "Everything is delicious," she said to Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  John had turned halfway away from them, speaking to someone on a nearby blanket.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald's eyes sparkled. "I see John has been very solicitous. There aren’t any other single men in town, but I suppose he didn’t want anyone else to get any ideas."

  Cecilia felt the last bite she’d taken lodge in her throat. She coughed, warmth crawling into her neck. “Ideas about what?"

  Just then, John turned so that he was a part of their conversation again. “I heard my name.”

  Her face burned hotter. “Mrs. Fitzgerald was only saying it was kind of you to introduce me around.” She shook her head slightly at Mrs. Fitzgerald, who seemed oblivious to her distress.

  "Any other town and a beautiful young woman like you would be snatched up right quick," the older woman said. "I don't blame John for staking his claim."

  If she’d had another bite in her mouth, she surely would have choked again. Was Mrs. Fitzgerald determined to embarrass her? "I believe I mentioned that I am not looking for a husband."

  John's eyes danced. "Do you hear that, Flo? She's not interested."

  Mrs. Fitzgerald pulled a face. "Nonsense. A pretty gal—”

  “Not every woman wants to get married."

  Maybe her words were a tad sharp. She felt John's speculative gaze on her.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald was looking at her now with concern. "Has someone broken your heart, dearie?"

  "No. I'm just not looking for a husband. I enjoy teaching. It is a fulfilling calling."

  "So is raising a family."

  John smirked as he watched her flounder. She wished for just a moment that he was one of her cousins, because she would've given him a smack like he deserved. He had been content to direct the conversation earlier. But not now, with Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  "Even if I were interested in finding a husband—which I am not," she said firmly, “it would not be appropriate for anything to happen between John and me."

  John’s mirth faded, and he watched her now with a serious expression.

  "He is my boss. We both have a responsibility to the children of Granbury.”

  Mrs. Fitzgerald still didn't seem to believe Cecilia.

  But John finally spoke. “Miss White is right. We've got to look out for the best interest of the children." His gaze skipped over to where his sister sat. He wore a far-off expression. What was he thinking?

  She firmed her lips and turned her face away. It didn't matter whether she was curious about him. Once this picnic was over, she would stay in her room for the rest of the day and work on lesson plans. Ruth had worked diligently in the classroom, and Cecilia knew John must have impressed on her the importance of her education. Cecilia was thankful for it, and she didn't want to mess anything up.

  She was finishing her food when Jericho and Lee ran up to the picnic blanket, kicking dust and grass up onto her skirt. She brushed it away, welcoming them with a smile.

  "We're going to play a game of Red Rover."

  "Will you play with us?"

  The boys’ words tumbled over each other.

  John answered for her. “I’m sure Miss White wants to visit some more. And she’s got on that pretty Sunday dress.”

  She looked down at the blue gingham. It was one of her finer gowns, and she did want to spend more time chatting with the parents of her students.

  But she also didn’t appreciate the man’s high-handed answer.

  “Aww.” Lee dug the toe of his boot into the soil. “Ruth said you would be too chicken to play with us.”

  Cecilia felt her brows hitch up.

  “Red Rover was her idea,” Jericho added.

  She heard John's exasperated noise but didn’t look at the man.

  Ruth might’ve worked hard this week, but it was clear Cecilia hadn’t won her over yet. The fact that Ruth had invited her to play had to mean something, didn’t it?

  Cecilia looked to where Ruth hovered on the edge of the field, past where the picnic blankets were spread out. Several other children were with her. Even the bigger boys, who seemed to be humoring the smaller children. Ruth gestured toward where Lee and Jericho stood over her.

  Cecilia stood. “I suppose one game couldn’t hurt.”

  If it meant she could win Ruth—and the other children’s—respect, she would get a little windblown and dirty.

  Besides, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Something John would do well to learn.

  John felt it necessary to join the game when Cecilia stubbornly refused to pull out. He couldn't begin to guess what Ruth’s plan was, but he knew that whatever her intention was, it wasn't innocent.

  He joined the team opposite Cecilia. Perhaps if he were honest with himself, it wasn't an entirely selfless act.

  Because after several rounds of children bouncing back-and-forth between the teams, Cecilia’s hair was coming out of her severe bun. Wisps of it fell in her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed, her teeth showing white against her skin as she smiled and laughed with the children.

  So far, she had been chosen twice as the place where the children tried to burst through the line, and neither time had she let go. She was a tough competitor. He wondered about her growing-up years and realized she hadn’t divulged anything about her family.

  Ruth was at the end of John’s line and whispered furiously with Lee, also sending hand motions to Minn
ie, on the other team. What was his sister cooking up?

  When Cecilia’s team circled up to decide who to call for, there were only a few seconds of discussion. And then they were spread out again in a snaking line, hands linked.

  "Red Rover, red Rover, send Ruthie on over."

  Before John could react, before he could call out a warning, Ruth raced across the field. She made a beeline for the schoolteacher, her head tucked low as she barreled right toward her.

  “Watch out! Ruth!” he shouted, but it was too late.

  The children on either side of Cecilia let go. Ruth didn’t temper her speed and made no pretense of going for the space around Cecilia. She ran straight into her. The two stumbled and fell onto the ground, skirts flying.

  There was a momentary hush from the picnickers watching. From the corner of his eye, he saw several people stand up from their blankets.

  He ran toward the tableau, conscious of eyes on him and on Ruth. What had she been thinking? He wanted to shake her.

  The children were circled around Cecilia and Ruth, still tangled on the ground. He urged two of the younger students out of his way and knelt in the grass, reaching for his sister.

  "Are you all right?"

  Ruth rolled over and sat back on her hands, still breathing hard from the exertion of running flat out. Her hair had come out of its braids and was tangled all around her face. He thought he could see a smile before she hid it, raising one hand to rub the top of her head.

  He ran his hands over her upper arms and shoulders. Then touched the top of her head. She winced and pulled away from him. "You've got a knot already.”

  Which meant she had connected with… "Miss White, are you all right?"

  Cecilia had a hand over her nose but blood was seeping through her fingers. Minnie gasped, and one of the smaller children began sobbing before turning around and racing off toward his mama.

  John dug in his pocket for his handkerchief, quickly presenting it to her. She pressed it to her face, trying to stop the flow of blood.

  "Everyone back up," he ordered.

  The children shifted their feet but didn't seem to move at all. He scooted closer, reaching one hand behind Cecilia’s neck. “Lean your head back. Does it feel broken?"