Sparks in Spearfish

by Kari Trumbo

  “Barton, this is as often as I’ll let you. You know the rules – or did you never bother to look over the parts pertaining to women? We can’t go courting, and schools will not take on a teacher who is, or even appears to be. School boards think that once women are married, we belong at home to start our own families. They don’t want to deal with having to find a new teacher mid-term if we should…” She blushed a pretty crimson.

  He could finish the thought … if we should be with child. Somehow women had managed to give birth for thousands of years, but according to school boards they couldn’t think straight in front of a class. “Does this mean we’re courting?” He tried to make it a joke, to shake her from the rigid rule-laden turn of her thoughts. He held out his arm.

  She glanced at it for a moment, then turned away. “No, Barton, we are not courting. I don’t have that option available to me. And frankly, neither do you.”

  Did he see sadness in her eyes, or was that only wishful thinking? Then why had she bothered to come? Maybe she really liked riding horses and that was her reason. Doubt niggled at him. He’d never had a confidence problem before, but he’d never battled two full years of bad blood before either.

  For now, maybe the best move was to sympathize, be supportive. “I understand. If a female teacher decided to start a family, it would make it a difficult situation with the school board.” He offered his arm again.

  She nodded and took it, but didn’t look at him, her cheeks still bloomed a delicate pink. He certainly didn’t have to worry about whether Lula had been romanced by another man. At eighteen, she was barely a woman, so shy and demure. To blush at the very mention of childbearing made her sweeter even than his ma’s pear pie. “Did you agree to come with me because we’re riding? I can’t figure why you’d let me take you to the falls today if you’d already decided that once was enough. I’d hoped you wanted to spend time…with me.” His frustration was hard to contain.

  Lula squeezed his elbow. “Both,” she whispered. “But next time, just write me a note. You scared me terribly behind that bush.”

  His feet suddenly felt like lead. He had cornered her there, hadn’t he? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize …”

  “Well, now you know.” Now she looked at him, and he almost wished she hadn’t. “And yes, I forgive you – but this wasn’t an easy decision to come to. I keep waiting to see the real Barton appear and that was a scary reminder.”

  Barton felt that like a stab to the gut. He’d thought it innocent, knowing she would pass by and that they couldn’t be seen. He’d wanted to speak to her–he’d wanted to twirl her hair in his fingers. He’d wanted to show her how much of a man he could be. It had all been about him. He stopped walking. “Lula, I …”

  “I don’t mean to accuse you, Barton. Let’s talk about something else, please.”

  Now that she could argue back, she was quite willing to tell him just what she thought. He smiled and flexed his arm where she held it. He’d wanted her comfortable with him, and she’d just been comfortable enough to speak her mind. It was a start. “My pa always brings my horse Star with us when he brings me to school in the fall. She’s down at the livery. I’m sure we can find a good horse for you there too.”

  “I’ll warn you, I’ve only ridden one horse before. Until we moved onto the ranch in Deadwood back in ‘91, I’d never touched a horse.”

  So she seemed satisfied he’d done what she wanted. But the day wouldn’t go very well if she couldn’t ride. “You are comfortable on a horse, right?” He could always let her sit with him on his … no, he couldn’t. Far too close for either of their sakes.

  “I’m sure I can handle it well enough. Have you ever been down to the falls? Is there a trail?”

  “A very clear one – I’ve been down it twice.” Barton relaxed a little and looked down the path toward the livery. Spearfish was a wealthy boomtown of broad streets lined with false-front stores and bustling boardwalks on both sides. The Good Lord never saw fit to put gold near Spearfish, but He did bless the area with fertile land for farming and orchards. The town’s wealth of cattle and produce made it more stable than other cities in the Black Hills.

  Lula slowed her steps and he matched hers. “I’ve never actually been to town …” Then her sweet whisper turned into a shriek and she ducked her head. “It’s Izzy and Harland from class! Hurry, before they see us!”

  In the span of a heartbeat, he led her to the shadow of the covered boardwalk, protecting her from anyone seeing so no one would recognize them from the opposite side of the road. He glanced over his shoulder and prayed nobody had noticed. The school only let in a select number of people; if students didn’t follow the rules, others who would, could be easily found. It would take only one report and both of them would be finished. And Harland Lawson was just the type of student who’d report them.

  Though from the gossip he’d heard, there was a darker side to Harland’s quiet demeanor. Barton hoped he wouldn’t have to use that information, but if he had to save his own or Lula’s skin …he certainly would to protect her.

  Lula’s hand fit against Barton’s arm as if it were made to settle there. The curved muscle he’d earned from years of ranch work was easy to hold onto. Now that the danger of seeing Izzy had passed, she was almost enjoying herself. Being on the arm of a handsome fellow wasn’t something she’d be able to do much, but for now it was rather nice. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they’d left Izzy, and her potential discovery, far behind.

  Barton directed her into the large livery, and the smell of the barn made her homesick for the ranch outside of Deadwood. He led her to a stall with a big beautiful mare, all black except for one white sock and a long blaze between her eyes. “This is Star,” he explained.

  Star heard his voice and turned to find him with a stomp and shift. She was more spirited than any mount Lula had ever ridden, but her eyes were soft as she notched her chin to get free of the halter holding her in the stall.

  Barton smiled. “Don’t worry, Miss Arnsby – the one I had in mind for you is right over here.” He patted Star’s flank. “Just a minute, girl. We’ll get you out of jail in a flash.” The soft way he spoke to Star, like she was a cherished friend and not merely horseflesh, reminded her of her beloved brothers-in-law back at the ranch.

  He whisked her past two other stalls, then stopped by a sandy bay with gentle brown eyes. He rested his hand on her back “Clover’s a few years older, but still a good girl. The liveryman assured me yesterday she was as calm as the day is long, perfect for someone who might not ride much. I didn’t know, so I wanted to be sure…”

  Somehow, the idea that he’d been thinking about their time together beforehand made it more personal than she’d expected. He’d thought about her in this, about her comfort. But hadn’t he warned her that his plan was to woo her into his arms? Why hadn’t she believed him? Her heart was torn – she’d have to guard it or be in just the situation Izzy had warned about.

  Barton disappeared to find the liveryman, leaving her to wonder if she could enjoy the remainder of the day knowing full well his intentions? Even if she didn’t succumb to him – a preposterous thought, really – was it right to lead him along, to spend time with him when their new friendship could never go further than it already had?

  Well, he had given her the option to keep running from him if she found him lacking. And that route made sense – the old Barton was bound to keep showing up and stealing this new joy. He always did. Barton always ruined everything, eventually. Did she trust herself not to become too attached before he did? It was already difficult to study with him around. As her sister Ruby said, get too close to the stove, don’t be surprised when you get burned. Was she putting herself right on the stove?

  Barton led Clover past her and out to the street, saddled and ready. Lula followed at a distance, then realized there was no fence or step for her to use to mount. She’d have to rely on Barton.

  He waited for her, anticipation pla
in on his face, seeming to know what she was thinking. When she stepped forward and before she could protest, his hands were on her waist, and he turned her and lifted her into the saddle without even taking a breath. Mercifully, his strong hands only lingered long enough to make sure she was steady in her seat. “I’ll be out with Star in just a minute,” he said, and was gone before she had a chance to react.

  Well! Lula had never felt quite so light-headed. She arranged her legs properly in the sidesaddle as she pondered how a man who knew her thoughts could hurt her mightily. But he hadn’t hurt her this time – quite the opposite. She’d almost returned her breathing to normal when Barton led Star out of the livery, mounted, clicked twice and led them out of town.

  Clover was steady and accepted gentle cues, which was good – Lula hated to use the riding crop. She followed Barton out of town and down a narrow path. Star pranced until the terrain was too steep, then clipped along at a steady walk. Clover followed, perfectly content to remain a few paces behind. Even when Lula tried to encourage her to catch up so she could talk to Barton, the mare quickly fell back to her old pace. Star’s walking gait was just faster.

  It gave Lula ample opportunity to watch Barton. At school, for two straight years, he’d been the head of the class, the one all the boys looked up to, for his money and his antics. The teachers had loved him, even when his popularity went to his head. And now she saw he was a steady horseman. In general, he was calm, as if life had never thrown him anything he couldn’t handle.

  But he hadn’t handled her well at all, and she certainly wasn’t going to give up her dreams for him. She had too much at stake, and too much experience with him, to let him convince her otherwise. Even if teaching didn’t hold the appeal it once had, it was something she wanted to earn, to prove an Arnsby could do it and so that she could provide for herself without a man.

  A man like Barton.

  The trail veered deeper into the trees and widened slightly, then opened into an area where the cropped grass and other leavings indicated they wouldn’t be the first to leave their horses there. The ride had been pleasant, if short. She held her breath and tried to prepare for Barton’s hands on her again as he dismounted and tied Star to a nearby tree. Her pulse sprinted to a frantic pace as he swaggered toward her. That very same walk would’ve warned her in the past that some trickery was headed her way. Not now. Now, his swagger held a confidence that was alluring, even thrilling, not terrifying.

  “You ready to come down from your tower, Rapunzel?” He waited by her left knee, looking up at her as if she really were a fairy-tale princess. But did he have the same intent as the prince? To lure her with sweet words, have his way with her, then leave her to deal with the consequences?

  She laughed, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself. She leaned back in the saddle. Clover shifted under her and she gripped the reins, not sure she really wanted to get down at all. It might be easier to just ride back down the hill than face the conflicted feelings inside her. He’d always made her nervous, but this was a different sort of nerves. “Rapunzel? What foolishness.”

  Then his hands were on her hips and she rushed to untangle her legs from the horn. In a trice she was on solid ground and he was looking her in the eyes. If he leaned forward for a kiss, she might be as lost as Rapunzel. But she was no naive fictional princess whose story was used to warn little girls to be virtuous, not foolish.

  “Thank you for letting down your hair,” his voice rumbled over her, his chin almost touching her forehead.

  She caught her breath and stepped back – right into Clover, who shied a step. Lula brushed the few ringlets of hair she’d left down behind her ear then took the reins and led Clover away to find a place to hitch her. And to get some distance from Barton. This day threatened to be like riding in a hot air balloon, filled with both awe and paralyzing fear. She couldn’t think of a woman alive who wouldn’t think Barton was handsome, just as anyone who was lucky enough to ride in a balloon would surely see the wonder of God’s creation. But being that high, with the potential to fall…

  Lula felt better after a minute away. Once Clover was secure, she took Barton’s arm and let him lead her down a narrow trail. It was darker under the trees, but Barton didn’t try anything untoward, and soon the path ahead became easier to see. If only the path for her life was just as clear.

  Chapter 10

  Tree limbs brushed against Barton’s face and arms, but he did his best to keep them from hitting Lula. She dodged around them well – she must be used to the foliage in the hills. Would she relax near the falls, let him talk to her as he’d wanted from that first day? Would she listen to his idea and melt in his arms, or fight him and run? Lula had more fight in her than he’d thought, and he loved the spirited flicker in her eyes.

  If he didn’t make use of the time and actually talk to her, then he was more of a fool than she thought. She’d never open up to him if he didn’t start slow and easy, get to know her instead of trying to gain her attention. “How long did you say you’ve lived in Deadwood?”

  “Almost six years. I live with my sister and brother-in-law, since Pa is dead and Ma left our care to my sister.”

  How could a mother just give up on her daughters? He’d never leave Lula to anyone else. His mother hadn’t abandoned her children, not even when Pa told her what Barton had done to Lula. Instead, she’d hugged him close and admonished him to make it right. “Was she ill or something?”

  “No, but there were eight of us counting Ruby, and she had no way to support us. Ma found a good man that she helps with his health problems back in Montana, but he didn’t have enough to support all of us either. Ruby had just married Beau and offered to take us. We still write Ma often. She’s been to a few of my sisters’ weddings and is proud of me for attending Spearfish.”

  “Did you say eight?” Four boys had been enough for his ma. She’d wanted a daughter but had never been blessed with one. Now her older sons were ready to take over the ranch, but not one of them had married, so she didn’t even have a daughter-in-law. She’d love Lula when he brought her home. Well, if.

  “Yes, eight – Ruby, Jennie, Hattie, Eva, Frances, me, Nora and Daisy. The first five are all married. But that isn’t my goal.”

  He stopped in front of her and turned to face her. She barreled right into him, and he wrapped his arm around her to keep her from falling. He held her elbow until she met his gaze. He knew it wasn’t her intention to wed – she was in teaching school, after all. But most women chose teaching because they needed the money or didn’t have someone to care for them. He was right there, waiting to give her everything the world had to offer. “Do your sisters have happy marriages?”

  She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed in confusion. She could tell he was looking for something and was puzzling out what. But she didn’t back away from him, and he reveled in her soft curves against him. “Yes, they do. But I want to be much more than just a wife.”

  Just a wife … that she could never be. She would be the best wife. “Would you ever call your sisters ‘just wives’?”

  She tensed, seeing now where he was going with his questions, and her jaw quivered. “Well, no. Not directly to them, for sure. I wouldn’t want to dredge up the past.”

  The past? He was talking about her future, and his. “I’d bet they’re happy.” He ran his hand up the back of her arm. He couldn’t hold off touching her, not when she was right there in his arms.

  The flash of fear in her eyes sliced him in two as she stepped back and took a deep breath. “Was that your purpose today, Mr. Oleson? To talk me into giving up on teaching? I don’t think you quite understand what it means to me.”

  He sighed and turned from her. She was slipping further from him, not physically, but even the use of his name was cold. When would he learn? “No. My purpose was to see the falls and talk with you. Should we keep going or would … you rather go back?” His own stiffness rankled. Would he give up so easily? Didn’t he owe it to Lula to
try harder? Never mind if he deserved the woman of his dreams – didn’t she deserve the privileged life being his wife would bring? Or did she not care about that? Too many questions and no way to ask them…

  He walked ahead to give her some space, and to think about his own actions. Talking had been his goal, but he’d done too much of it and scared her off.

  “Barton, wait!”

  He stopped and turned from his course as she looked up, they hadn’t gone more than a few yards from the horses, he could still see them behind her. She was worth every moment, but would she allow herself to relax and let happen what he’d been feeling in his own heart for two years?

  “I’m sorry.” She pushed ahead to reach him.

  “I just thought you might like a minute…”

  She waved off his apology and interrupted him. “To answer your question, no, I wouldn’t call my sisters ‘just wives.’ But they have different lives, different dreams. I’ve wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember. I can spend time with you, Barton, but it must be as friends, please. Please don’t ask me to give up my dream. Don’t tempt me away from it.”

  Could she have asked anything more difficult of him? She stared up at him with those clear blue eyes, waiting on him for confirmation he didn’t want to give, couldn’t give, not unless he gave up his whole purpose for coming back, for going through class all summer. His whole intention had been to slowly draw her away from being a teacher and into his arms. He could teach if one of them had to, and she could help him if she wanted, but he didn’t want her to need to. The one-quarter share he’d inherit of the ranch would be plenty for them to live on for the rest of their lives. He wanted to protect her, provide for her, cherish her…

  He reached up to touch one of her curls and froze. He loved to feel their fine silkiness – it was a fresh wonder every time – but she had never liked him doing that. And that was what this came down to: his desires or hers. Could he give her up and everything he’d dreamed so that she could follow her dreams? And yet, wasn’t that what love was – putting someone else first? He’d been so sure he loved her, but the idea of letting her go ripped a hole somewhere deep inside him.