by Regina Scott
“Good morning, Miss Fosgrave,” she said with a wide grin as she held out a bowl topped with a checkered cloth. “I brought you some apple bread. Ma thought you might like it.”
It was all Rina could do not to pull off the cloth and dig in right then. Dinner last night seemed a long time ago, and she hadn’t thought about what she’d eat this morning.
When she’d lived with the Fosgraves, food had always appeared on the table on a predictable schedule, prepared by a cook and served by a footman who likely never received their final wages. Less appetizing food had also been served aboard ship on the way here and at the boardinghouse. She’d have to add cooking to the list of skills she’d need to learn in her new life.
“Thank you, Beth,” she said before directing the girl into the school to a seat near the front.
Levi and Scout came together, sauntering across the clearing as if neither the weather nor her presence could daunt them. Each wore trousers and a cotton shirt, though Levi’s were in better condition than Scout’s.
“Morning, ma’am,” Levi said while Scout nodded. They started around her, but Rina moved to block their way. Although Scout’s eyes were on a level with hers, he refused to meet her gaze. Levi looked down on her, both from height and attitude.
“I will brook no nonsense from either of you today,” she warned, hoping they could not hear her pounding heart.
“We promised not to play any more pranks,” Levi said, grudgingly she thought. “We’ll keep that promise. Right, Scout?”
His friend nodded again. “And thank you for forgiving us, ma’am.”
Levi glared at him before slouching into the schoolroom and taking a seat near the back. Scout followed him.
Rina sighed. Well, she’d expected a challenge. Now was the time to meet it. She turned from the door and squared her shoulders.
“Wait for me, teacher.”
She blinked, glancing behind her. James was jogging out from under the trees. Gone was the fancy suit he’d worn to interview her. Today he looked like a frontiersman, with heavy black boots, dusty trousers and a blue-and-green plaid flannel shirt that made his eyes all the more blue as he landed on the ground beside her and doffed his knit cap.
“Good morning, Miss Fosgrave. I hope you have room for one more.”
He knew her schoolroom was only ten percent filled. “Certainly, Mr. Wallin,” she said, willing her heart to slow. “Who else will be joining us?”
He grinned. “Me.”
Him? She took a step back. “Nonsense, sir. What need have you for schooling?”
“More than you might think, according to Catherine,” he said. Before she could argue with him, he ducked past her into the room.
“Good morning, Beth, Levi, Scout,” he said before taking a seat in the final row behind his brother. Beth frowned at him, but Levi and Scout turned their backs to face the front of the room.
Why was he here? He couldn’t need education. Catherine certainly hadn’t mentioned him as one of the students. Was it that he felt he needed to lend a hand with his brother? Or had Catherine or Mrs. Wallin sent him to report on her?
Either way, her hands shook as she walked to the front of the room and took her place at the blackboard. She’d dressed in her most severe gown that morning—black matte satin with blue dividing the skirt and edging the sleeves and placket of her short jacket. She had been particularly thankful that she’d adopted the short stays she could maneuver herself, as schoolteachers, unlike princesses, could not boast a lady’s maid to help them dress. But the ensemble didn’t feel nearly as impressive as she’d hoped as four pairs of eyes gazed up at her.
“Good morning, class,” she said. No, no, that sounded far too breathless. She cleared her throat and raised her chin. “Good morning. I am delighted to see you all today.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Levi muttered.
“As you are aware,” she said without acknowledging him, “I am Miss Fosgrave. I believe you all know each other.”
Levi started, then stared at Scout. “Who are you and how did you get in this school?”
Scout laughed.
James frowned. Was she being too lenient? She’d thought ignoring bad behavior might be her best choice, but if James knew a better way to deal with his brother, she wished he’d share it.
“We will start with an assessment of your current skills,” she continued, “so I know where to begin with the instruction. Please write your full name on your slate.”
Beth picked up her chalk and set to work. Scout waited for Levi to start writing before bending his head over his own slate. James picked up the slate beside him and toyed with the chalk. Those long fingers looked so strong.
Perhaps it would be best if she ignored him, as well.
“When you have finished,” she said, “hold up your slate for me to see.”
Beth whipped hers upright. Elizabeth Ann Wallin was written in neat white letters.
Levi held his up as well. Bumpkiss J. Whoosits.
Rina refused to react. She eyed Scout, whose head and slate remained down. “Mr. Rankin?”
His gaze met hers, haunted. “I don’t know my full name, ma’am. Pa just calls me Scout, and so does everyone else.”
His pain brushed against hers. She knew that feeling of confusion, of trying to determine who she was, where she fit in the world. “Well, then, Mr. Rankin,” she said, “you are in a very fortunate position. You can choose any name you want. I suggest you can do far better than Bumpkiss.”
Levi colored.
Scout nodded. “Thomas, then. Always liked that name. Not sure how to spell it, though.”
Rina spelled it out for him. As he wrote it on the slate in large, shaky letters, she couldn’t help glancing at James. His slate was up, as well.
Your humble servant, he’d written. Not that you need any help from me.
* * *
She was amazing. James could only be pleased with how well Rina was handling his brother and Scout. From what he could tell, their unknown threat-maker hadn’t returned or caused any trouble. Everything was going as well as he’d originally hoped.
Better, actually. Rina gave Levi minimal attention for bad behavior and lavished praise on Beth and Scout for their good work. By lunchtime, even Levi was busy calculating on his slate.
James stood when she escorted the others to the door. As Beth and the boys started across the clearing, he moved to Rina’s side. She glanced up at him, paling.
“Well, Mr. Wallin?” she asked. “Will you make a good report of me?”
James frowned. “I wasn’t aware the teacher required a grade, ma’am.”
“Is that not why you attended, to grade my skills for Catherine and your mother?” she challenged, hands on the hips of her black gown. It was darker and made of finer material than nearly any gown Beth or Ma owned. The style outlined her figure to perfection, and the color brought out the gold in her hair.
“If you think I sat through a school session merely to please Catherine or Ma, you must not own a mirror,” James told her.
She blushed. Beth and Ma tended to redden at his teasing, but Rina’s skin turned the shade of pink that sometimes colored the sky at sunset. He wanted to feather his fingers across her cheeks to touch the warmth.
“And if you think I would suspect any other reason for your visit, you must find me conceited in the extreme,” she countered.
“You have more reason to suspect me of conceit, ma’am,” he assured her. “And you wouldn’t be wrong.” He drew himself up with an arch look. “I’m a fine figure of a fellow if you ask me.”
His teasing must have worked, for she seemed to be fighting a smile, lips twitching. They were as pink as her cheeks.
“So, if you did not attend to report on my teaching skills,” she said, “why did
you come to school today?”
He had a feeling she’d be no less pleased if he admitted that he’d been concerned for her safety. “Why, to inspect the building, of course.” He turned and gazed up at the ceiling. “Good strong beams.” He reached out and rapped on the chinking. “Walls well put together.” He thumped his foot against the planks. “Solid flooring.”
Rina shook her head. “You knew that before you even brought me to Wallin Landing. Come now, Mr. Wallin, why are you here?”
He met her gaze. “Maybe I just like spending time with you, Miss Fosgrave.”
She dropped her gaze. “That is very kind of you to say. But you must know that it is far more difficult to teach with you in the room.”
And here he’d thought he’d been unobtrusive. “I don’t think I distracted your students,” he protested. “Levi and Scout never looked my way, and Beth’s eyes were all for you.”
“You did not distract my students,” she allowed, voice growing quieter. “You distracted me.”
Now, there was a fine thought. Nothing he liked better than an attentive audience. He offered her his arm. “In that case, ma’am, allow me to distract you a bit more. I believe even the teacher is allowed some lunch. I’d be pleased to eat it with you.”
As if in agreement, a rumble came from the vicinity of her stomach. She glanced up at him. “I failed to plan for lunch. I was unsure of the eating arrangements.”
And likely hadn’t had a thing to eat since dinner. James shook his head as he lowered his arm. “I should have told you. My brothers and I generally eat before dawn and head out for the woods or whatever claim we’re working. We may take something with us to eat when we can, but we don’t sit down to another meal until work is done for the day. That schedule doesn’t apply to you. I’ll ask Beth to bring you some victuals, and you can cook whenever it pleases you.”
Her smile didn’t look the least bit pleased. “Thank you. I should be able to manage something.”
Why the hesitation? Did she think they were low on supplies?
“Well, there’s always something on the stove in the main house,” he offered. “I can go fetch you something now if you’d like.”
She smiled at him, and he felt as if he was the cleverest fellow in the territory. With a nod, he opened the door. The rain had stopped, and blue sky dotted the gray like patches on one of his mother’s quilts. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as the look in Rina’s eyes as she sent him on his way.
At the main house, his sister was gushing to Ma about the morning’s lesson as Beth, Levi and Scout ate fresh-baked bread slathered in honey butter at the table. Catherine rose from her seat beside them to meet him.
“I must congratulate you,” she said, blue eyes intent. “From what Beth is reporting, it very much sounds as if Miss Fosgrave is as good a teacher as you thought she would be. We must do all we can to keep her.”
He was in total agreement there. “I saw no signs of her planning to hightail it for the hills,” James said, moving around her for the back room.
Catherine followed him. “But was she pleased with her students’ behavior, happy with the accommodations?”
James took up a knife and sliced off a hunk of the loaf set out to cool. “Happy as anyone can be with Levi and Scout as pupils. I wouldn’t worry, Catherine.”
“Even you would worry if you knew what came in the mail today,” she argued.
Reaching for a pint of his mother’s apple preserves, James paused. “What about the mail?”
“John went into town this morning,” she said, hands clutching the skirts of her flowered cotton gown. “He brought back a letter for Miss Fosgrave, stamped by the superintendent of the school at the White River settlement. It’s another offer. I know it.” She gazed up at James. “Can’t you convince her to ignore it?”
He had to. There might still be an experienced teacher or two in that boardinghouse, but none of them would be able to deal with his brother the way Rina had.
“Give me some ham and a piece of Ma’s rhubarb pie, and consider the matter done,” James promised.
Armed with the best sustenance Wallin Landing could afford, he set off back across the clearing. Rina was already pleased with the arrangements—he’d seen how she’d looked at her room last night, as if it were the finest place she could imagine. Levi was difficult, but she’d proved herself able. It shouldn’t take much to encourage her to stay.
But he’d barely crossed the threshold of the schoolhouse before he questioned his conclusions. She was standing by the far window, face turned to the light, and something sparkled on her cheeks.
She was crying.
He wanted to take her in his arms, promise her the moon to stop the tears from flowing, but he rather thought she’d be more embarrassed than calmed by such behavior. So he made a show of carrying the food to her desk and laying it out as if he’d brought a feast, all the while pretending he didn’t notice that she was wiping at her cheeks.
“There you are, ma’am,” he said, pulling out her chair for her. “Fit for a queen.”
She raised her chin as she approached the makeshift dinner table. “I appreciate your efforts, Mr. Wallin, but you must not coddle me.”
“Coddle, ma’am?” He grabbed one of the benches and pulled it closer so he could sit beside her. “The way I look at it, you just gave me the perfect opportunity to eat lunch with a pretty lady. If anyone’s being coddled, it’s me.”
Her lips twitched as she spread her skirts to sit. “I suspect that smile wins you a great amount of coddling from your family, sir.”
If only it were that easy. “As much as I can manage, ma’am.” He directed her attention to the food and tore off a piece of the bread to munch on while she ate. He’d brought a plate and utensils, and she used the latter with dainty fingers.
“That was a fine display of teaching,” he offered when she was quiet. “Makes me wish Pa had started a school when I was a lad.”
She cast him a glance over the apple preserves. “Where did you and your brothers attend school?”
“Ma taught us—reading, writing and figuring mostly,” he admitted, flicking a crumb off his shirt. “What science we learned we picked up through experience. And as for history, Pa always said we were too busy making it to study it.”
Her smile appeared at last, like the sun burning away the clouds. “Your father sounds like a very wise man.”
James felt his own smile slipping. “Not wise enough, or he would have seen that loose branch before it fell and killed him.”
She put a hand to his arm, brow puckering. “I’m very sorry.”
“Everyone was,” James replied, unable to look anywhere but at that hand draped over his sleeve. She had delicate hands, with longer nails than Beth or Ma, hands that had never had to pull out weeds or scrub laundry for seven. “Everyone liked Pa.”
“Just as everyone likes you,” she said with conviction.
He wished that were the truth. “Not everyone likes me.”
She raised her brow even as she pulled back her hand. “Name one person you failed to impress.”
“You.”
She dropped her gaze to the waiting slice of rhubarb pie as if unwilling to admit it. “I suspect I do not impress easily.”
“And why is that?” James angled his head to see up under her hooded gaze. “Met lots of impressive fellows back East, did you?”
“A few,” she allowed, fork crumbling at the crust. “And a few who thought they were impressive because they knew how to turn a phrase and a lady’s head.”
That sounded a bit too familiar. “I wouldn’t blame them, ma’am. You have a mighty pretty head to turn.”
She sighed. “But I do blame them. They were among those who taught me that flowery phrases seldom have substance behind them.”
�
�Then you were talking to the wrong gentlemen,” James told her, straightening. “If you mean to truly compliment someone, there has to be truth behind the compliment, or they won’t believe you. And the compliment has to be about something that’s important to them. Beth wouldn’t be much pleased if I told her she has hands big enough to swing an ax, for all it’s true.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. “But I suspect John would find it a compliment.”
“John would find me odd for offering it,” James corrected her. “I’m not sure any of my brothers would take well to me calling their hands manly.”
She giggled, and he knew he’d won the day. Perhaps enough to discover what was really troubling her?
“So why were you crying?” he asked, keeping his gaze on his bread as if it concerned him more than her answer. “If Levi left a snake in your desk, I’ll have him on bread and water for a week.”
She started. “Levi leaves snakes?”
James set down the bread and met her gaze. “Forget I mentioned it. But if my pesky little brother isn’t the cause of your tears, who is?”
He could see her swallow as she looked away. “I just found myself unaccountably...lonely.”
Lonely. How his family would chuckle at the thought of anyone feeling alone at Wallin Landing. With five brothers and a sister, there was always someone about. But he knew how she felt. At times, even with his entire family surrounding him, he felt alone.
“You don’t have to be lonely, Rina,” he said. “If you need someone to listen, a shoulder to cry on, you can always come to me.”
She frowned, glancing back at him. “How can you make that promise to someone you barely know?”
She seemed sincerely confused, her honey-colored brows drawn down, her pert nose pulled up. He supposed it was a sweeping statement. But he’d made it, and he meant it, and he wasn’t sure why she was so determined to doubt him.
“That’s how friends behave,” he said.
