Fist raised, Yarborough swung around to attack the woman. The shock of recognition had him hiding his clenched fist behind his back quickly as he gave a courteous bow.
“Mrs. Stewart, I hope you didn’t misunderstand my greeting to this young lady. In fact, I was just trying to find out if she needed direction to any—”
With a snort of disgust the middle-aged woman waved the man away. “I saw what you were about. Get on with you, cobbler. I’m here to greet the schoolteacher.”
He tipped his bowler—odd how the hat seemed so out of place in Belle—and left quickly. As Delia smiled at her rescuer, she looked beyond the woman’s shoulder. The man who had so intrigued her earlier was gone.
“Now, I’m counting on you being Miss Perkins.”
The woman’s words brought Delia’s attention back to her. Delia smiled and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Well, I’m Mrs. Stewart. Sorry not to be here right away, but I had something in the oven that had to finish up baking.”
Delia began to speak, to assure the woman that it was fine. Mrs. Stewart made a tsking sound that cut her off.
“That Jubal Yarborough has been right fresh with the women here abouts. I wouldn’t want to let our Miss Winkleman down by not looking after you since she sent you to us.”
The woman looked at the rude man’s back as it retreated. “Funny thing, him bothering you of all people. You bein’ Miss Winkleman’s replacement. Yarborough bought her husband’s cobbler wagon. Guess that sort of makes him her husband’s replacement.”
After that rush of words the woman paused to take a breath. Delia would have responded except the woman quickly began to once again speak. “Right fond of Miss Winkleman I was. Always helped me with things and was a good teacher. Course you know her by a different name, I expect.”
The woman gave Delia a defiant look. “She’ll always be Grace Winkleman to those of us here in Belle.”
Murmuring words of agreement, Delia waited for the talkative woman to continue. When she didn’t and only stared at Delia, the younger woman reddened.
“Thank you for coming to meet me.”
Those were the words Mrs. Stewart expected. As soon as Delia said them, the woman’s face brightened into a wide smile. “Expect you’d like to see the school and get settled in.” Linking her arm through Delia’s as if they were old friends, she led her away from the depot. After only a few steps, Delia stopped in alarm.
“My trunk!”
The woman’s warm chuckle and motherly pat on Delia’s arm reassured her. “No worries now, my dear. The men here abouts know where to deliver it.”
At her mention of men, Delia caught sight of the dark-haired man who had so intrigued her earlier. Discreetly pointing at him, she asked, “Do you know that man? He gave me the oddest smile as I waited earlier.” It was the best excuse she could invent for asking about him.
Mrs. Stewart turned her bonnet in the direction of Delia’s small gesture. She turned back and smiled under the shadow of the bonnet.
“The horse trainer. Course, he hasn’t been here long. Brought a small herd to board for the winter out at the Chase ranch.” The bonnet shook. “Can’t imagine a man with a herd of horses not having his own land. Just imagine.”
Though it seemed almost inappropriate, Delia pushed for more information as she tried to keep her tone casual. “That is unusual. But, what is his name?”
Mrs. Stewart smiled, seeming to sense Delia’s interest. “Name? Oh, well, that’s Roland Anderson.”
Chapter 2
Roland Anderson’s wavy hair slipped over his brown eyes while he battled his growing temper. His daughter smirked up at him before hiding again behind his legs.
Wasn’t nine too old for a kid to be hiding? Sure, she might be small for her age. That didn’t make Eenie any less tough. And he knew tough was a good way to describe his tomboy.
The clearing of Miss Perkins’ throat centered his irritation squarely on that woman again. She hated him. It’s the reason she bullied his daughter and sent her hiding behind him.
“Enid Anderson, stand in front of me right now!” The woman said her command calmly enough. Looking into her eyes, Roland made out the frustration bubbling below the prim spinster’s surface.
Spinster was going too far. The woman didn’t look old. She just seemed uptight, similar to the old maids who taught him in his youth in Pennsylvania.
His youth. The thought almost had him snorting. And what would Miss Priss standing in front of him think if he did snort. What little youth he’d had ended long before Gettysburg.
As a boy in Pennsylvania, he’d helped when wounded soldiers were carted from the battle sites into a home volunteered by a resident of the small town of Gettysburg. He’d wet lips and given sips of water. What haunted him most were the amputations he’d been present for then. Someone needed to be the doctor’s extra set of hands. He’d been handy, unfortunately.
If even a shred of innocence had remained after that, it died when faced with raising a baby on his own. He’d had parents who helped. But that was before his mother’s death. Eenie could only rely on him now, God help her.
He would not allow an adult to shift the blame for this to his daughter.
The daughter in question stuck her head around her father’s leg and shook her head. The woman blanched, her face taking on a sort of flat appearance as if she’d been struck.
No, his sweet girl hadn’t stuck her tongue out at the woman. Would she? Did she?
He stared down at his daughter with sudden doubt. The girl helped around the ranch where they were staying. She never sassed or lied. But, had she done what he thought he saw?
The teacher! She hated him. He reasoned it was why they’d faced off against each other today.
“Mr. Anderson, I require support from my parents.” Her voice sounded colder than the snow outside on the Wyoming earth. “Granted, Enid has no mother. Regardless, children must obey the rules of the school, no matter the excuse.”
He took a menacing step forward, Eenie clinging leech-like as he moved forward as well. A unit. A complete family. That’s what he and his little girl were.
His baritone growl echoed in the silence of the empty schoolhouse. “Are you saying I’m looking for excuses, not facing the problem, Miss?”
She tipped her head. He’d seen women do that as a way to look down their nose at people around them, to put them in ‘their place’. Roland watched the teacher’s eyes. He saw no criticism, just frustration and—
Fear? She was afraid of him!
What would he do with a horse that showed him fear? He worked much better with horses than people. That was an idea. He’d treat Miss Perkins like a horse.
Reaching a hand slowly out in her direction, he made a shushing sound. Before, he’d seen a small glimmer of fear. Now, the woman stood ready to flee. Backing up with her palms positioned in a protective gesture, she held her arms up as if to shield herself from a blow.
She shrieked, “What are you doing? Don’t touch me!” Then the woman grabbed the pointer from the desk behind her, brandishing it like a sword.
This time, Roland didn’t bother to smother his snort. He stood between a cowering woman he wouldn’t harm and a giggling little girl who should fear her punishment. Best rebuild a bridge here.
“Ma’am. I didn’t want to harm you. Just hoped to calm you a bit. Don’t want you to fear me.”
The waving pointer suddenly stilled. “Why do you believe I fear you? Hardly, Mr. Anderson.” A frown replaced any worry in her eyes. “Why did you think touching me would make me less afraid?”
Roland felt his face heat. “It works with horses, so I just thought…”
His voice trailed off and he retreated a step or two when the pointer waved angrily toward him. At his movement, the woman self-consciously smoothed a dark tendril behind her ear and composed herself. Then she pointed at Eenie, who no longer hid.
The woman’s face softened, and, not for the first
time, he appreciated her lovely, blue-gray eyes and the sculpted cheek bones. She was a good-looking woman, when she wasn’t frowning or scowling.
“I do fear, but only for Enid. That is, if we can’t work together to see that she learns while in school rather than playing pranks and starting fights.”
Eenie’s warbled response cut off any response he might have made. “Try an’ make me.”
The teacher’s message was delivered. Why waste more time with her, no matter that she was a pretty little thing? This was no dance. It was a parent-teacher meeting, and he’d decided to adjourn it.
“Thank you, Miss Perkins. I expect you’ll see a change on Monday.” Nodding, he plunked his hat into place. “I’d like to check in with you in a few days.”
The woman nodded her agreement, still clutching the pointer. No matter how much she denied it, the woman looked alarmed.
Miss Perkins definitely feared him. Could it be, somehow, that she knew about Rol Anders?
Roland Anderson would need to nose around and find out what she knew.
Outside, he gruffly ordered Eenie into the sleigh. As always, the girl raced to obey, moving quickly onto the seat. Seemed the kid only had one real speed, rapid. It’d been like that from her earliest years.
She’d walked early, running almost from the first. She’d talked in sentences since close to the age of two. Her clever mind made life a challenge if she chose to be naughty. Those times had been rare, at least before she started acting up in school.
What got into the girl, to tangle with her teacher?
Pulling the sheepskin coat closer around himself, he threw a woolen blanket over both his legs and those of the little girl cuddled next to him.
At that moment, with her snuggled at his side, he thanked the Lord Deborah went into the water alone. He still had at least one of them. After her death, he’d had nightmares of her carrying the newborn into the lake that terrible day.
Naughty or not, he loved this little girl. Something had to change. He couldn’t be away from her so much. Before Belle, he hadn’t spent more than a handful of days each month with Eenie.
A thought tickled his mind. Could that be the reason for Eenie’s behavior now?
Setting the horse into motion, he waited until they left the lights of Belle before speaking. Using his deep, commanding tone—his daughter called it his ‘bad man’ voice—Roland gave her the punishment.
“You are not allowed near the horses until Miss Perkins tells me the problems in school have disappeared.”
He felt her stiffen beside him. “But, she—”
Father cut off daughter in a way practiced by parents for eons. “No. Not a word. If you aren’t causing problems, I should hear good things, right?”
Silence, then he felt a small shrug of the shoulder pressed against him. When she didn’t answer, the bad man voice sounded again. “Will I hear good things, Eenie?”
Under the star-filled sky, the girl sent a long sigh toward the heavens. “Yes, sir. You will.”
Let her fume and think. Roland knew he had his own pondering to do. The quiet of the late January evening enclosed him in a kind of bubble, keeping out distractions as he remembered the handful of times he’d met the teacher.
Last October, it must have been. A Friday evening, the first week of school.
The Pettigrew sisters had agreed to board Eenie during the week. Roland realized that she wouldn’t be able to attend school otherwise. Too, he’d needed to be free to do his job. The gang didn’t always wait until the night to plan things.
The girl hadn’t been happy that late afternoon when he collected her from the school. She’d stomped down the steps and raced to his sleigh, ignoring the goodbyes other children called to her.
“Here now! No goodbye for your friends or a hello for me?”
A mute, rebellious shake of her head answered him. With arms across her waist, the girl kicked at the inside of the sleigh’s front, startling the horse.
Putting a large, strong hand on his daughter’s leg, he calmed the horse with a soothing word or two. Then he fixed a quelling look at her.
“What’s put the bee in your bonnet, little Miss E?” Typically, this pet name teased a giggle or at least a smile from her. That day, nothing.
“I had to wait all week to buy a slate. Miss Perkins made me stand in the corner since I didn’t have one.”
Fist clenched around the leathers, Roland struggled mightily and gained control of his anger. Keeping his voice cordial, he set the horse into motion.
“Well, let’s go to Stewart’s store and get one. Might be, I can set up an account for school stuffs you’ll need.”
The store stood only a short distance from the school, so they arrived quickly. He put a hand on his daughter’s arm to stay her.
“Are you sure you didn’t do something else? You know, to get put in the corner?”
Eenie ducked her head, silent. That silence answered his question. She’d done something she wouldn’t admit to, he knew.
They’d conferred with the shop owner who supplied the slate. He also suggested a few items most of the few students in school had. Before they left, he walked them to a colorful display.
“Seems like your little girl should have one or two of these.” The man picked up a blue ribbon that matched the dress Eenie, unhappily, wore. When she was with him, the girl lived in overalls. “Most other girls in school wear ‘em.”
Now, three months later, Roland remembered the shiver of awareness that went through him at the low, musical voice speaking behind him. “Enid, that would look very nice in your hair.”
Eenie had been upset earlier when she left school, but fury now hardened her face at Miss Perkins’ words. The girl stomped out of the store, making it clear she didn’t want any ribbons.
The teacher threw him a challenging look. “Do you always let your daughter behave so rudely?”
Embarrassed pride caused him to take her bait. Pointing a finger in her direction, he’d growled in low, commanding tones, “Do you always interfere with families outside of school matters? I don’t think this is your classroom, Miss Perkins.”
His encounter with the teacher in November hadn’t been any more cordial. Paps, the livery owner, had told him earlier that day about the teacher’s questions around town. All of them had been about Roland.
It galled him that the woman would do that. Additionally, when he stopped to pay the Pettigrew sisters for the month, they’d uncomfortably told him that Eenie had caused no end of trouble during school.
As he waited in the sleigh that Friday, he’d mentally cautioned himself not to cause trouble. Finally, he was getting close to the gang. It wasn’t the time to get a reputation in town.
Rather than simply leaving once Eenie was bundled into the sleigh, he’d ignored good sense and stormed into the school. Slamming back the door, he clomped up to the teacher’s desk.
Rising, the small woman had squared her shoulders and glared. There had been no fear in her eyes that day, he remembered.
“Mr. Anderson. Good! Your daughter is a hellion—”
He’d interrupted her. “That why you’re askin’ so many questions round town ‘bout me?”
She’d momentarily paled. Then an invisible rod stiffened her spine. “I do like to know about my parents.” She drew out the next word. “Especially when the child is troubled as well as a troublemaker.”
Hands fisted, he’d fired one sentence like a bullet. “Guess Eenie’s right about you hating us.” He’d pivoted and left, ignoring what the woman started to say.
No wonder Eenie felt justified in playing the prank during the Christmas play. She’d been given the job of bringing the baby Jesus to Mary. It all fit in with the narration an older student read.
With a muffled chuckle, he remembered the look on Mary’s face when Eenie handed her a wrapped piglet instead of the baby doll. It had wriggled free and all but flew toward Joseph. Then it raced under the feet of several in the audience. A
body would have thought a revival broke out that day with the shouts and raised arms. All because of one small piglet and his mischievous daughter.
Before the teacher stepped in to restore order, she’d singled him out in the crowd with a hot glare. Thinking back on it, he had to be impressed at how easily she’d refocused the students. The play resumed, but he’d grabbed Eenie from the stage as it started again and stomped out of the school.
To his way of thinking, reasons stood on both sides of the fence for Miss Perkins and Eenie to dislike each other. Could be he’d been so focused on this gang that his daughter became the school’s bully. Separating her from the horses during her weekend stay at the ranch was the worst punishment he could imagine. The child spent as much time as possible with the small herd he’d boarded for the winter at the ranch.
After all, she didn’t know the horses were only a ruse. He’d used them as an excuse to be in the area. He had a warrant for the man and had tracked him to Belle. When he connected that man to the gang of rustlers stealing from ranchers south of this town, he knew the problem was bigger than merely taking Yancy Stubbins into custody. No, that man was a small part of a big problem for ranchers here in Wyoming. He had to catch the leader to stop the band of thieves.
He couldn’t let the teacher ruin it. His hands tightened on the leathers as he consider the problem. Did Miss Perkins know his real name? How?
Rubbing a hand across his cold face, Rol considered his next move. Seemed like it was time to sneak a look at the teacher’s room in the back of the school.
The confrontation with Roland Anderson and his daughter stung. Delia reminded herself that he was a bad guy, and bad guys always made good people miserable. But why did she feel this draw to him? The attraction she fought actually frightened Delia.
Ruminating over the problem with Enid Anderson and her father, Delia pushed her attention back to the board. Rag in hand, she cleaned it, something she did each Friday. The mindless activity allowed her thoughts to sneak back to Roland Anderson. Or, Rol Anders. Which was his real name?
The Teacher's Star Page 2
