Sweet Words of Love

by Betty Brooks

  "Schoolmarm!" he giggled, his blue eyes dancing with some secret joke. "Our new teacher is in the schoolhouse right enough, Rainey. But you're gonna be surprised if'n you're expectin' a schoolmarm."

  Her gaze narrowed on the boy's curious expression. “What's teachin' you then, Chubby, if it ain't a school­ marm. You got a hog for a teacher?"

  "I've been called a lot of things in my time but nobody has ever called me a hog before," a purely male voice said from behind her. "At least not to my face."

  Rainey's head whipped around and her jaw dropped, her stomach doing a double flip as she gaped at the golden-haired man standing in the schoolhouse door. He stood there trapped in sunlight, while the bright rays made his blond curls gleam as though they were pure gold. He had dimples, which deepened as his smile widened. And his eyes, so intensely blue, rivaled the sky on the clearest day.

  Oh, God, Rainey thought. You done sent one of your angels to teach the young'uns on Thunder Mountain.

  She was convinced of that fact, because the man standing before her could be nothing else except one of God's own. Surely, no earthly creature could look so beautiful . . .so dazzlingly, sunshiny, first-rate, eye-appealingly gorgeous.

  "Did you come to see me?" The angel asked gently, pretending not to notice that she'd been struck completely dumb by his incredibly handsome countenance. "I . . .I-" Oh, God! The words wouldn't go past the knot that had suddenly lodged in her throat She swallowed hard and tried again. "Wh-what are-you ain't the new teacher!"

  He lowered his voice. "The children seem to think so, and I would appreciate it if you don't tell them any different."

  "Then you ain't-" She broke off, flushing, as she realized he was teasing her. She stuck out her hand and gripped his hard. "I c-come to make my howdys," she stuttered. "An'-an' to give you an invite to Sunday din­ ner."

  "How kind you are," he said, and his incredible smile spread to his eyes, which made them crinkle at the corners. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Robert Golden, newly arrived in these mountains from St. Louis." He lifted her hand and brushed the back of it with his lips, and she thought she would pass out from pure pleasure.

  Golden, she thought. My God. Even his name is Golden.

  He is one of God's angels. Couldn't be anything else the way he looked. Her heart beat faster, thundering in her eardrums. "It ain't kind at all," she said stupidly, her stomach doing a quick flip-flop. "We'd be mighty pleasured," she heard herself saying. "Me and Grandpa would . . . to have you eat with us and-and to set a spell after dinner. Grandpa don't have near enough company these days." A bold-faced lie, she knew, since Sadie Thompson was there most every day.

  "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," Robert Golden said gently, those intense blue eyes of his never leaving hers.

  "It's . . . it's Rainey," she stuttered, reluctan tly releasing his hand. She wished her name had been different, something elegant like Rebecca or Katherine or Elizabeth. But it wasn't. Wasn't even a name, neither, just something her pa had called her because it was raining the night she was born. Coulda been worse though, she supposed. If there'd been a tornado that night no telling what he'd of called her.

  "Rainey?" Robert Golden queried, casting a quick, confused look toward the cloudless sky.

  A high-pitched laugh erupted from the boy at her side, and Rainey frowned at Chubby, who was immediately silenced.

  "My name's Rainey," she explained. "Rainey Watson. Everybody hereabouts knows where the Watson cabin is located." She looked at him anxiously. "You are gonna come, ain'tcha? I was plannin' on fryin' up some chicken and makin' pan gravy and turnip greens and biscuits and bakin' a raisin pie for afters."

  "It sounds delicious," he said. "How could I possibly refuse such a meal?"

  Rainey was so flustered at his acceptance that she couldn 't hold his gaze. She looked away and realized for the first time that the children had all left their play and had gathered around the two adults.

  Robert Golden noticed, too. He smiled at the lot of them. "It looks like I won't have to ring the bell today," he remarked solemnly.

  The girls, obviously as smitten with their teacher as Rainey, hurried inside while the boys did a slow shuffle behind them.

  Robert Golden turned his attention to Rainey. "You're welcome to attend classes while you're here," he said.

  One part of Rainey wanted to accept the invitation, while the other part wanted him to know that she was a grown woman, too old to attend school. "I ain't been in school for years," she said.

  He smiled wryly and showed those beautiful dimples again. "I beg your pardon for thinking you were only a schoolgirl, Miss Watson."

  Oh, Lordy, he had fine manners. Rainey wished she dared to enter that schoolhouse and could slide onto one of the long benches and stay there all day feasting her eyes on him. She so desperately wanted to watch him at work, to listen to his wonderful voice, and yet she could not. Because if she did, he would likely realize the affect he had on her, and it was too soon for that, ­ much too soon.

  Nevertheless, Rainey knew her feelings. Lordy, did she ever know! The knowledge had struck her-like a bolt of lightning-the moment she'd laid eyes on him.

  Rainey was in love.

  For the first time in her life, she was in love. And it had to be with a man who was so far above her in so many ways that he would never think of her that way. But even though Rainey realized that, she had never been one to give up easily. Not when she wanted something so badly. And she did want this man. This beautiful, golden-haired man, who must have dropped straight out of heaven to land amongst the mortals who lived on Thunder Mountain.

  Rainey, still awestruck, left the school, bemused and befuddled. It was a good thing Samson knew his way home, for her thoughts were filled with the new teacher. She could recall their every moment together-short though that time had been-and she vowed to remember them eternally, to keep them locked firmly in her memory . . . treasures to be enjoyed for the rest of her life.

  She shook herself into awareness. She needed desperately to find the bee line again, and that need was suddenly uppermost in her mind. Without the honey from the beehive she was doomed to wear her breeches and shirt on the day Robert Golden came to dinner, and she was determined that she would not. She would find the new hive and she would rob the bees of their honey. Then she would carry every jar to the store and buy some material, because she had a gown to make, a gown that would be pretty enough to make the teacher sit up and take notice, even if she had to bust a gut doing it.

  As that thought occurred, so did another one. There was more to catching a man's eye than pretty dresses. She needed to know things . . . things other women already knew. Like Mary Belle Carter. Now, there was a girl who fluttered her lashes and managed to blush rosily whenever anything wearing pants looked at her. But Rainey knew those blushes weren't real. Mary Belle didn’t have a lick of sense about what was right and proper, but men seemed to like that sort of thing. And the teacher was definitely all male.

  Well, Rainey could outdo Mary Belle Carter any old day. She'd learn those things. And she'd practice them until she had it right. And when it was done, she'd be just as turned out as any other woman. That teacher man, Robert Golden, would sit up and take notice of her. And when supper was over, they'd go out into the moonlight and he'd say pretty words to her. Never mind that she'd invited him for the noon meal. It was Rainey's intention to keep him with her all day.

  "Tarnation!" she swore softly. "What am I gonna do if'n he wants to kiss me in the dark, Samson? I ain't never been kissed afore. Not even by Grandpa. An' I ain't rightly sure how it's done."

  Samson snorted and switched his tail, but otherwise paid no attention to her panic. "I bet Willis Johnson knows how to kiss real good," she muttered, then quickly rejected that thought. Willis would most certainly teach her if she asked him, but he was already making a pure nuisance of himself. If she allowed him such a liberty she'd never be able to get rid of him.

  Rainey realized she'd ha
ve to consider other choices, but, as none came to mind, decided to shelve the problem and concentrate on more pressing matters. If she didn't find that beehive, learning how to kiss would make no difference. Robert Golden wasn't about to kiss a woman who dressed like a man, and without that honey there'd be no material for a gown.

  That thought caused her to jab her heels so hard into Samson's flanks that he decided to run. And that suited Rainey just fine because she had a beehive to find before the day was over.

  * * *

  It was Saturday when Thorne rode into Lizard Lick to pick up supplies. After he'd bought feed and seen to the loading, he pushed open the door of the general store and stepped inside.

  He was surprised at the crowd-mostly female-that he found there. At the center of the crowd stood a tall, blond man who looked vaguely familiar.

  "Thorne," exclaimed the short, plump woman who stood behind the counter. Her graying hair had been twisted into a bun at the back of her head. "Didn't expect to see you today," she said. "How have you been?"

  ''I've been keeping well, Elizabeth," Thorne replied, returning her smile. "And you?"

  "I guess I've been doing okay," Elizabeth Crocker said. "Mostly anyway. The rheumatiz never seems to go away, though. Gets in my bones, you know. Makes them ache so bad that I'm afraid one of these mornings I'm gonna wake up and find my limbs all twisted up like old lady Johnson's was before she up and died from her

  misery.

  Thorne had been hearing about Elizabeth Cracker's rheumatism since the first day he'd walked into her store, and he was sure she'd keep telling him about it until the day she passed on.

  "Howdy, Thorne." Charles Crocker joined them. "Good to see you, boy! What can we do for you?"

  "I need some rope, Charles," Thorne replied . "What's going on here anyway?" He indicated the cluster of women. All of them seemed to be speaking at once. "Are you hiring your store out to the Women's Sewing Circle now?"

  "It looks that way, don't it?" Charles Crocker laughed. "But no. That's not the Women's Sewing Circle. Although most of them ladies are likely here by now. The man over there is responsible for the gathering. He come in for supplies, and word got around town and all them women began showing up."

  "Who is he?"

  "The new schoolteacher. And he's made quite a stir among the ladies."

  Thorne looked at the blond man and was struck again by the feeling that he'd met him somewhere before. But the memory somehow eluded him.

  He wasn't really surprised the ladies found him so attractive, but he was surprised about the new teacher being a man. "I didn't know the school board hired a man for the job," he said.

  "Neither did the rest of us," Charles replied. "The school board left the choosing up to Jude Grant, and he told us-after the teacher showed up-that he was tired of replacing the women every time he turned around. Said he figgered a man would stay single longer . . . or at least stay with the job."

  "I don't know about the single part," Thorne said. "From the looks of it, every eligible young lady on Thunder Mountain has come to meet him."

  "I expect there ain't too many of 'em that ain't here," the other man said. "It's most certain he won't be eating at Billy Joe's Eatery very much. There'll be plenty of invitations to home-cooked meals coming his way."

  Thorne's frown was thoughtful. "I suppose so," he mused. "I know the Watsons planned to extend an invitation to Sunday dinner."

  "And so does everybody else know it." Charles Crocker chuckled. "Why, Rainey come in here the other day with more jars of honey than she's ever brought at one time. Twenty-four jars it was. And when she left here she weren't carrying no pants like she usually does. She took some dress goods and ribbons instead. Along with some other womanly folderols."

  "Rainey did that?" Thorne lifted a puzzled brow. "I'm surprised, Charles. She's never been interested in dressing up before. In fact, I don't believe I've ever seen her in anything but pants."

  Crocker grinned. “I’ll bet money, things are gonna be different now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're an educated man, Thorne. You can add them things up as good as me. The teacher's going to the Watson cabin for Sunday dinner, and Rainey comes in here and buys dress goods and ribbons and lace, and even a chemise. Now I'd be plumb dumb if I couldn't add those things together and come up with the right answer. Rainey is smitten with the new teacher."

  A chemise? Just the thought of Rainey in a chemise raised Thorne's blood pressure. "You're on the wrong track," he said gruffly. "Now, how about that rope?"

  Charles Crocker took the rope off the wall and handed it to Thorne. "Want to lay a bet that Rainey ain't already sweet on that man?" he asked with a grin.

  Thorne suppressed his anger. "I don't bet," he said abruptly. He dug into his trouser pocket for change. "But if I did, I'd lay odds against it." He slapped the coins on the counter, then strode out of the store, aware that Charles Crocker's gaze had not left him.

  Thorne's fury stayed with him as his long strides carried him swiftly to his wagon. He didn't like what he'd heard, and he didn't like the looks of the new teacher. He was too damned good-looking. And such looks just might catch Rainey's eyes. But the fact that he was so good-looking meant that every woman on the mountain would be chasing after him, and with all those women to choose from, Rainey would have a hard time catching his interest.

  Not that she wasn't beautiful, because she was. But she was little more than a child. Any man, whether educated or not, would most certainly be aware of her innocence, because she had no affectations whatsoever, was completely without guile. A man of the world-and the teacher was certainly that-would never feel attraction for a child like Rainey.

  At least Thorne hoped he wouldn't.

  Perhaps, though, it would be in his best interest to attend that dinner. Thorne felt certain it would be easy to wangle an invitation from George Watson. And if he were there to keep an eye on things . . . well . . . if Golden did cast his eyes toward Rainey, then Thorne would be there to see it, and could do whatever was necessary to protect his own interest.

  Yes, he decided. He would attend that dinner. And afterward, if he found it necessary, he would accompany the teacher home and set him straight about Rainey's future.

  Because, if Thorne had his way, Rainey's future most certainly did not include the new arrival on Thunder Mountain.

  Four

  Rainey smoothed a wrinkle from her blue gingham skirt and tugged nervously at the bodice. The rounded neckline scooped so low that her bosoms appeared to swell above it. And, although she wanted to appear feminine, she worried about so much of her bare flesh being put on display.

  Drat it. She needed a mirror that would reflect her full length. She looked down at herself and smoothed the skirt over her hips again. Was it too tight? Too loose? She didn't know. She picked up the silver-backed mirror that had belonged to her grandmother and peered into it. Blue eyes, bright with excitement, looked back at her. She examined the oval of her face, looking for blemishes that might have appeared overnight, but there were none.

  She frowned at her image, deciding to seek her grandfather's opinion. She found him on the porch. "Grandpa, what do you think?"

  The old man, seated in his cane-backed rocker, had been perusing the storm clouds overhead while he puffed on his corncob pipe. Attending to her question, he inspected her carefully, his gaze lingering overlong on the swell of her bosoms. And when his eyes raised to hers, she saw the bewilderment in his gaze.

  "Well, Grandpa," she said, shifting impatiently. "How do I look?"

  Slowly, he took the corncob pipe from his mouth and waved it in her direction. "When did all that happen?" he asked gruffly.

  "What, Grandpa?" She looked down at herself, but could find nothing unusual there.

  "Never mind." He stuck his pipe in his mouth again and turned his attention to the sky once more. "Looks like it's gonna rain for sure," he said around the pipe stem.

  "Oh, no!" she cried. "It c
an't!" She'd been aware of the gathering clouds, but had dismissed them from her mind. "The rain will mess up my dinner!"

  "I didn't know you was plannin’ to serve dinner outside," Grandpa grumbled. "Darn fool idea, if you want my opinion."

  “I’m not serving dinner outside," she told him. "But Robert might not come if it rains."

  "Might be just as well," he said shortly. "That man has knocked the sense right outta you, girl. I ain't never seen you in such a dither before. You'd think we was havin' the queen of England here to eat with us."

  "Robert Golden is more important to me than the queen of England," she said. "I can't wait for you to see him, Grandpa! I ain't never seen a man like him afore. There's not a man in these hills could hold a candle to him."

  He removed his pipe and eyed her severely. "Judging a man by his looks is a bad thing, girl. Can't never tell what he's like inside. And if he's so dad-blasted comely, every woman in these hills is gonna be pantin' after him like bitches in heat. It ain't fittin' no granddaughter of mine should join the pack."

  "No such thing, Grandpa!" she snapped. "And don't you go callin' me no bitch, neither!" She felt hurt that he would speak to her in such a manner. "You oughtta be ashamed of yourself for talking to me thata way!"

  "The man ain't even come yet and he's already set the two of us against each other," George growled.

  "Don't you go blamin' that on Robert, Grandpa!" she said coldly. "He ain't got nothing to do with what comes outta your mouth."

  He studied her for a long moment. "Something bad's happening here, Rainey. You're so smitten by that man you'd set family aside without a second thought if it meant bein' with him. An' you don't even know him." He looked confused. "I'm your grandpa, girl. Don't that count for something?”

  She sighed and knelt beside him and took his gnarled hand in hers. "Grandpa, you have to understand. I ain't no little girl no more. I'm a woman growed an' I found the man I want to marry up with." She searched for understanding in his gray eyes. "Don't you understand? Has it been so long since you courted Grandma that you can't remember how you felt about her?"