His Errant Educator (Willamette Wives Book 3)

by Maggie Ryan

"Why in the world would she?" Agatha asked. "Wallace made sure of that."

  Teresa listened to the exchange, and while not having traveled over 2,000 miles with these women, she felt that she knew enough about Catherine to join the conversation. "All I know is that I haven't seen Pa smile or laugh as much until Catherine came to live with us—"

  "She doesn't live with you," Agatha interrupted. "She works for your pa and should remember that."

  "I-I only meant…"

  "Agatha!" Charity said, her face showing her surprise.

  "It's the truth," Agatha said. "I hope everyone is not gossiping about Ma."

  "Why would they?" Anna asked, her expression showing her puzzlement.

  "Who knows why people decide to be mean? I just know that some are just… just plain evil."

  Anna reached out and put her hand on Agatha's arm. "Agatha, that horrible man is gone. No one here is doing that. Like Teresa said, everyone thinks your ma is wonderful." At Agatha's shrug, she asked, "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine, I'm just saying that I know people talked behind our backs and it was just awful. I don't want Ma to have to—"

  "I hope you saved some of that cobbler," Anna interrupted, causing all the women to turn and discover that the couple was returning.

  "There's a bit left," Catherine said. "But the cake the girls made is almost gone. If you want a piece of it you'd better hurry. Anna, those preserves you sent have truly been put to a good use."

  "You are just being modest," Benjamin said. "Your cobbler is lovely. Almost as lovely as you are in that dress. That color brings out the blue in your beautiful eyes."

  "Why thank you, Ben," Catherine said with a smile. "You look quite—"

  "Where is that lemonade? I'm parched," Agatha said, cutting her mother off mid-sentence. "Did you have Ma make that as well? No wonder she looks exhausted."

  "What? No, I mean, I believe the lemonade was provided by the Owens," Benjamin said, his own expression showing a bit of confusion. "It really is refreshing. Catherine, would you—"

  "Ma doesn't need to serve anyone tonight," Agatha said, "she is not being paid…"

  "Agatha!" Catherine said, shaking her head.

  "I was asking your mother if she'd like a glass. I would be glad to bring you one as well, Agatha," Benjamin said. "I'll get some for all of you."

  "No need, the men are supposed to be doing so," Anna said.

  "Um, well, if you're sure," Benjamin said. "Catherine, shall we enjoy a cup before the music begins again?"

  "I'd like that," Catherine said. "If you girls will excuse us?"

  They watched as the older couple again walked away and once out of earshot, Anna whirled on Agatha.

  "What is wrong with you? That was rude! Don't you want your ma to have a good time?"

  "I want Ma to be…"

  "What was rude?"

  The women turned again to see their husbands had returned. It was James who asked the question as he handed a cup of lemonade to his wife.

  "Nothing," Charity said and no one corrected her as she added, "Thank you, honey. I'm parched!"

  "Yes, it looks delicious," Anna said, downing half the cup that Richard handed her in one swallow.

  If the men perceived the tenseness surrounding the group, they didn't mention it, though they did exchange a few looks between one another. When the music began, Roger smiled and held out his hand. "That's our song."

  "We have a song?" Teresa asked, her body tingling the moment his fingers closed around hers.

  "They are all our song," Roger said with a grin. "After all, I promised I'd dance with you all night, and darlin', the night has just begun."

  Teresa smiled, relinquishing her empty cup to Charity with a polite, "thank you," before her fiancé whisked her back out onto the floor.

  "Miss Goldman, will you dance with me?" a young man asked, his cheeks a bit flushed and a hang-dog expression on his face. "I'll try not to step on your feet again."

  "No need to worry, Mr. Franklin. My toes went numb an hour ago," Barbara said, giving him a dazzling smile and accepting his arm.

  Richard followed with Anna, while Charity and James moved to return the cups to the table.

  "Are you all right?" Wyatt asked, as the couple stood alone.

  "I'm fine," Agatha said, "I'm just a little tired."

  "Would you like to sit down for a bit?"

  "That might be nice…" she began, only to see that her ma was again in Mr. Goldman's arms. "No, I can't… not now. I-I'm going to go check on the children." Before she could step away, he reached out and snagged her arm.

  "Aggy, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing."

  "I know something is bothering you, honey. I can't help if you won't tell me what it is."

  "I'm not asking you to help," she said, pulling a bit against his hold. When his eyebrows drew together, she added, "I mean, I don't know what you could do."

  "I don't either unless you tell me what is needed."

  Searching for anything besides having to admit the truth, she said, "I'm afraid that there is gossip going around."

  "What sort of gossip?" Wyatt asked, his eyes going to the dancing couples and then taking a glance around the room. "Everyone looks happy to me and I haven't heard anything."

  "Men don't pay attention to those things," Agatha said quickly. "You know, just whispers about how it is unseemly and very inappropriate for a woman to live with an unmarried man."

  "What? Who's living together?"

  Just barely catching herself before rolling her eyes, she said, "Ma."

  "Your mother? That's ridiculous. Catherine's not living with any man; she simply has a room in the house where she is employed. Her room isn't even in the Goldmans' living quarters, it's in the kitchen."

  "See? That's why gossip is so horrid. People whisper and repeat something until it is so twisted that it makes no sense and yet people believe it. Wyatt, you have no clue as to how gossip spreads and it is just as dangerous as wild fires. It isn't given in the open but hidden, and… and it can destroy a person."

  "I assure you that if I ever heard anything like that, I'd put an immediate stop to it. Is that what Charity meant when she said it was rude?"

  "What?"

  "If you think that any of us believed Charity when she gave that answer, then you truly don't know us. It's quite obvious that something was said while we were getting the lemonade. Were you upset because of something you heard?"

  "No, it really was nothing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I told Anna and Charity that I'd check on the children." She forced herself not to fidget as he studied her. They were bumped by a couple dancing by who laughingly apologized. Finally, he bent closer.

  "Fine, but Agatha Wilcox, this discussion is not over. I don't know what has you upset, but I'm not buying your story. I suggest you give it some thought and we'll discuss this later."

  She couldn't think of anything to give as a response that wouldn't have him deciding they'd discuss it right now… in the middle of what had become a very crowded dance floor. Giving him a nod, she pulled away and hurried towards the open double doors of the barn. The sound of laughter had her giving a glance over her shoulder to see her ma being twirled about the floor in her employer's arms.

  She walked towards the house where the little ones had been placed on beds and pallets on the floor to sleep while their parents enjoyed the festivities.

  Why couldn't anyone else see what she did? How could her ma be so blind as to not know that she wasn't being courted, she was being used… again. Wallace had used her to get her land, which he'd promptly sold to drag them west. He'd used her as a cover, to make himself appear a proper man of the cloth when he'd really been a monster. He'd used her as his own personal punching bag. Despite her ma's assurance that he'd never hit her, Agatha didn't particularly care. What he'd done was even worse… beaten her down emotionally with his harsh, ugly accusations and predictions that she'd burn in hell if she dared complain. Agatha paused before enterin
g the house, her heart pounding as she remembered the nights she'd lain in her own bed, nothing but a thin wall separating her room from her ma's, or when she'd slept beneath the covered wagon on the trail, the floor her ceiling, listening to the man grunt and groan as he claimed his husbandly rights with a woman who had only wed him in order to save her daughter. It didn't matter that the man was dead. He'd done damage that would never be forgotten… never forgiven.

  Brushing a tear from her cheek, she climbed the stairs. Once inside, she found the small pallet the three children shared, the babes on either side of Hope, who slept with an arm flung over little Johnny. Another tear slid free as Agatha stared down at them before sinking to her knees beside the quilt. Such innocence, such trust and peace, and yet she knew it was all an illusion. No, she couldn't allow her ma to be torn asunder yet again by some man who only pretended to care for her while he in reality was only using her because of her skills… her ability to add money to his coffers. She'd die before allowing that. How could no one understand that it was up to her to make sure no one ever again hurt her ma? If Wyatt couldn't understand her concerns, then she would simply have to address them herself.

  Drawing her knees up, she laid her face on them, attempting to calm down as she didn't wish to have her anger disturb the little ones' sleep. Strains of music drifted over the space between the buildings, doing much to soothe her soul. When arms slipped around her from behind, she stiffened for an instant and then relaxed against her husband's solid chest.

  "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I love you, you know."

  "That is the one thing I will always know," Wyatt said, his lips against her ear. "What I don't know is why you won't tell me what has you so upset."

  Agatha sighed, knowing that never having dealt with the ugliness that she and her ma had, never being the subject of looks that made you feel dirty, never living with the guilt because you knew you'd committed a sin, never having heard whispered words behind lifted hands that you knew were judging you, scorning you, her husband would never understand how that felt. It wasn't something he could fix, and wasn't something she was going to burden him with.

  "I don't know exactly," she said with a sigh as she reached out and stroked her fingers down Grace's arm. "I'm still thinking… like you said."

  "You know I'm here for you, don't you? There is nothing you can't tell me."

  She knew deep down that he was right but still… she couldn't tell him how she was feeling, not truthfully, because sometimes she didn't even know herself. Instead, she turned until she was facing him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he stood, drawing her up with him. "Just hold me, Wyatt. Hold me and never let me go."

  "Never," he said, bending to kiss her cheek which was wet with her tears as he pulled her tight against his chest. "It's going to be all right, little one. I promise."

  When they returned to the barn, it was to see Benjamin mounting the makeshift stage that had been erected for the musicians. The crowd began to quiet as attention was focused forward. Agatha saw Roger, a beaming smile on his face as he stood next to Teresa who caught her gaze, her smile fading a bit.

  Agatha felt guilt slide through her, knowing without a doubt that she was the cause of the uncertainty written across the girl's face. Before she could make any movement, her pa's announcement of their upcoming nuptials had the crowd cheering and people rushing to offer their hugs and congratulations. The couple disappeared among the well-wishers as Agatha stood with her husband.

  "Everything all right?"

  Agatha looked to see Anna, knowing the concern she saw on her friend's face was also her fault. "Yes, everything is fine. I'm just feeling a bit off tonight."

  "We all have those days," Anna assured her, giving her a hug. "You know we're here for you whenever you need an ear or just a friend."

  Agatha smiled at hearing her husband's words echoed by her friend. "I know, and that helps me remember what I asked of you and Charity. Let's go congratulate Roger," Agatha suggested and then added, "and I need to apologize to Teresa."

  They joined the group and when they were standing in front of them, Agatha reached out without hesitation and pulled Teresa into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

  "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just meant that we… all of us love your ma. I don't want you to…"

  "I know," Agatha said. "You don't have to explain. I just wanted to apologize and wish you and Roger the very best."

  "So we can still be friends?" Teresa asked.

  "I'd love that," Agatha assured her, looking over the girl's shoulder to see her husband giving her a smile. Glad that she'd removed some of the worry in his eyes, she squeezed Teresa a bit harder. "Forgive me?"

  "Nothing to forgive," Teresa said.

  Mr. Parker called for everyone's attention, announcing the Owens brothers were going to play a special song for the newly engaged couple.

  "Go," Agatha said. "This is a special day for you both."

  "Thanks, Agatha," Roger said, giving her a hug as well and bending down to speak directly and only to her. "For reminding me that there are things that are worth fighting for and making sure I didn't give up." He kissed her cheek and then stepped back and gave his fiancée a deep bow. Teresa gave him a beautiful smile before dipping into a perfect curtsey. Agatha once again felt her husband's arms slip around her as the music began and the couple moved off together.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Are you ready to tell me what's wrong?" Wyatt asked after sliding into the bed beside his wife.

  "I already did," Agatha said. "Why do you think something is wrong?"

  Sitting against the headboard, he reached for her, pulling her up and onto his lap. "Aggy, I don't think something is wrong, I know something is. You hardly said a word all evening. Even before you left the barn, you weren't enjoying the dance like I thought you would." When she sighed but didn't speak, he ran his hand up and down her back. "Honey, talk to me."

  "You'll just think I'm worried about nothing, and you're probably right."

  "Would you give me a chance before deciding what I might or might not think?" he asked, cupping her chin and lifting her face. "I admit I can't read your mind but, Aggy, I can read your eyes and I know you are hurting." When his eyes never wavered from the hold they had on hers, she sighed.

  "I'm worried about Ma," she admitted.

  "Catherine? Why?"

  "Didn't you see the way Benjamin treats her? It's like he expects her to always be ready to… I don't know, jump up and do his every bidding. I know he's her employer but she is not his personal servant!"

  "I didn't see anything of the sort. Perhaps you misunderstood…"

  Agatha sat up in order to look at him directly. "I did not! That man won't even let her talk to anyone else. I watched and any time another man even walked in her direction, Mr. Goldman was pulling her back onto the dance floor. She has every right to speak with whomever she wants. He can't just order her around!" Pushing against his chest, she continued. "What is it about you men? Women have brains and thoughts. Why are we supposed to keep quiet or simply say, 'yes, sir,' 'no, sir,' 'whatever you say, sir!' It's not fair and I'm sick of it!"

  "Whoa," Wyatt said. "I'm not exactly sure what you are talking about but I'm definitely sure you won't continue in that tone of voice."

  "See, that's exactly what I mean. Just because you don't like what I'm saying, you tell me to shut up!"

  "I did nothing of the sort. I simply am reminding you that there is no need to yell or be disrespectful when you are speaking. It's rude and…"

  "That's another thing! I'm sick of people accusing me of being rude when all I'm doing is trying to protect my ma!"

  "Aggy, didn't I hear you apologize to Teresa for being rude? Why would you do that if you didn't believe you'd been—"

  "Naughty?" she said, moving off his lap. "That's what you men always use to keep us naughty girls in line, isn't it? Well…"

  Instead of finishing her sentence, she
squealed as she was hauled right back to him, this time not onto his lap, but over it.

  "No, I make use of something far more effective to keep you in line," Wyatt said, his action of pulling her nightgown up to her waist giving her no doubt as to what that something was.

  "Fine! If it makes you feel better than go ahead and smack me!"

  "Though your permission isn't necessary, I do thank you for it. Just know that what made me feel better was holding you in my arms. This, young lady, is to help you feel better." Without another word, the crisp, sharp sound of his palm connecting with her bare flesh filled the room. It was soon accompanied by her gasps, yelps, and complaints that he wasn't listening to her.

  "Oh, I guarantee that I'm listening," he said, applying two more solid swats to her sit-spots. "I'm listening for my sassy little wife to apologize and promise to speak to her loving husband with respect."

  Biting her lip, swearing to herself that he could wait forever, it only took another dozen smacks before her recriminations morphed into words far more suitable.

  "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to be disrespectful to you, but it just makes me so…" Ready to say "mad," she surprised herself when the word "scared" was uttered instead.

  The swats to her bottom ended as she was turned over and adjusted until she was once again cradled in Wyatt's arms.

  "Why scared, sweetheart? Of me?"

  "No!" she said instantly, then sighed as she laid her cheek against his chest. Her bottom throbbed but it wasn't its pulsing that she felt. His steady heartbeat thumping beneath her ear did what nothing else could—it calmed her, centered her as it always did. She also felt a tingle begin in her tummy, as well as a spasm in her sex. This man always seemed to know exactly what she needed. Once again reminding her that he offered his strength for her acceptance. God, what would she have done without him? He was a blessing she would eternally be grateful for. A miracle, really, and one that had her questioning her feelings. With a deep sigh, she snuggled a bit closer, smiling as the hand used to spank her now rubbed against the very nates just reddened.

  "I want Ma to be happy," she said softly.