“About teaching Diego,” he said in a controlled tone. “I figured you would have consulted someone by now about that impetuous offer of yours and learned what a predicament you’ve put yourself in.” He smiled purposefully. “You make a habit of saying things before you think them through.” I was reminded of my accusation about him being Diego’s father, and I flushed slightly.
“I assure you, I had more than ample time to think things through on the six-mile ride to your ranch,” I smiled tightly. “Put your mind at ease, Mr. Bennett. I shall ride out to the ranch tomorrow, and Diego and I will begin his lessons then.”
He muttered a colorful expletive under his breath. “Have you no sense at all?” Linda’s head came up at her father’s angry tone, and he lowered his voice, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Will you at least give thinking a try, Miss McFarland?”
“Oh, I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately, Mr. Bennett,” I said, keeping my indignation from showing in my face. I cast a glance at Linda, but she was now reading one of her books. “And would you please leave here before this digresses into another scene?”
“The scene between you and me hasn’t even begun yet, Abigail McFarland,” Jordan warned. He leaned down so close that I could smell the leather of his jacket. “What if I tell you that you are not welcome at Eden Rock?”
“Reva Gutierrez and Diego don’t welcome me?” I raised my brows derisively. “Or are you saying you don’t welcome me?”
“Would it make any difference?”
“Of course!”
“How so? I own Eden Rock, or have you forgotten that fact?”
“You don’t own Diego or his mother, do you?” I snapped. “Or would you prefer that Diego be ignorant as well as an outcast.”
A muscle jerked in Jordan Bennett’s cheek. I let out my breath.
“I’m sorry. That was unforgivable. But the boy deserves an education, Mr. Bennett. Why should you object so strenuously to my offer?” I tried for reason.
“I’m not thinking about Diego at the moment.”
“There isn’t anyone else to think about,” I said, exasperated. “You ask me if I intend to keep my promise to Reva Gutierrez and Diego. Well, I do. Then you imply you will not welcome me on the ranch. After what I said to you a few days ago, I can understand why you dislike me so much. I spoke in anger. And I’m sorry. But can’t we try to put our grievances aside for the benefit of the boy?”
“You bullheaded little bitch!” Jordan breathed in frustration. “You’re going to find yourself in a real mess if you persist.”
“Are you still hoping I’ll leave town?” I asked, gauging his expression. My question caught him momentarily off guard. Then he raked his fingers back through his hair in agitation.
“Do what you want. I don’t give a tinker’s damn about you.” He strode out of the schoolhouse.
“What was that all about?” Ross Persall asked, entering the schoolroom.
“Nothing.” I shrugged, feeling confused and oddly depressed. Surely it had not been Jordan Bennett who had written that cryptic note on the blackboard?
“Nothing?” Ross laughed. “I could hear his voice from the gate. What’s between you two anyway?”
“Nothing,” I repeated, walking to my desk.
“Second enemy you made today,” he commented wryly. “You must be the first teacher to arouse so much powerful emotion.” He was standing close to the desk, his head bent, as I ruffled through papers. I looked up at him and forced a smile.
“I may be the shortest employed too.”
“They won’t fire you. It took them too long to find a replacement after what happened to Prudence Townsend,” he said softly.
“What did happen to her?” I asked curiously.
“So they didn’t tell you. I didn’t think they would,” he said grimly.
“Well, why don’t you tell me?”
“No. It’s best forgotten,” he decided after a second. “Besides, there are little ears back there in the corner.” He indicated Linda, who was watching us. “The kids never knew anything about it. Let’s forget it, shall we? You’ve got other things to think about. I just came back to tell you that one of my men is out there fixing the railing. He’ll be done shortly.”
“You didn’t need to come all the way back to tell me that, Mr. Persall. I would have deduced as much.” I smiled warmly.
He grinned. “It was a handy excuse.”
When Ross Persall left, I stood, wondering what had happened to Prudence Townsend. Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what had happened to her? What was the mystery that surrounded her? There was undoubtedly a scandal, for the mere mention of her name closed mouths like a trapdoor. Had she run off? Had she been fired? Everyone kept telling me to forget about Prudence Townsend, but I knew that it was becoming more impossible to do so each day.
Chapter Ten
On my next visit to the general store I was lucky enough to find Emily handling the business. James was somewhere in the storeroom making an inventory and writing up orders. Emily looked at me apologetically. “Jim told me about the other day,” she admitted softly, her eyes darting wearily over her shoulder. “I’m glad Ross Persall had the railing fixed. Jim said it was new only three years ago and that someone must have jimmied with it to break it like that. I’m afraid he blames it on you, Miss McFarland. He says after you allowed the children to paint pictures on the inside walls, they figured they could do anything they wanted to the building.”
“I’m sorry he feels that way,” I sighed, thinking that although he had been inexcusably rude to me, perhaps he had his own reasons for behaving in such a way. “Maybe he is right about someone pulling the nails out. They couldn’t have hopped out by themselves. I just can’t think of why anyone would want to do such a thing.”
“Someone could have been badly hurt.” She leaned forward. “The Poole boys have been building a tree house. Maybe they needed nails.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Mrs. Olmstead. And whoever it was, I’m sure they did not intend to hurt anyone.”
“I should hope not, but I still think it was the Poole boys.” I handed her a list of things I needed, and she began stacking them on the counter in a box. I fingered some soft cotton material with pretty pink and blue flowers on a pale-ivory background. How I would love to have a dress made of this material instead of the drab browns, grays and greens. I wondered how I would look in a flounced skirt with soft, flowing sleeves and sheer lace around a low neckline. A faint, dreamy smile touched my lips.
I moved away from the cloth table, telling myself that clothing wasn’t important. But I could not help remembering how Marcella Haversall had indulged herself each season with a dozen new gowns.
Emily was tallying the items as she put them in the box. The last item set in the carrier, she handed me the total. I sighed as I passed across the last of my first month’s income. It was another week before I would receive more money, and I would have to be careful in my meals to make these meager stores last. I hoped no unforeseen expenses would crop up, and I wondered if I had been wise to send money to Bradford Dobson for more books. Only a week before, I had received several copies of Tom Sawyer, by a new writer named Mark Twain. I had read the book and thoroughly enjoyed it. I knew it would be just right for the Poole boys. I even considered having the better readers present it aloud to the rest of the class as incentive for the younger children to learn more quickly. The gift from the solicitor had been a surprise and a generous thought.
“Miss McFarland,” Emily whispered. “I hope you won’t take offense, but I think it would be wise if you discouraged Ross Persall.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I haven’t been encouraging him. Whatever made you think such a thing?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t really have to,” she sighed. “He’s... well, he’s got a terrible reputation where women are concerned. He’s had several living with him in that hotel of his. That Lane woman is just another one. And she with a daughter!”
She tutted disapprovingly. “But it isn’t good for you to even speak to him whatever the reason.”
“He offered to fix the railing, and under the circumstances I had to accept or let it go undone,” I explained. “Your husband didn’t have the time to do it, and it was a matter of safety for the children.”
“Oh, I understand all that. I didn’t mean for you to take offense. James can be so... so stubborn when he gets a bee in his bonnet. I’m sorry about that. Really, I am. Please don’t be angry with me. I’m only telling you this about Mr. Persall for your own good. He obviously likes you, or he wouldn’t have bothered about the railing. Jim said he’s never known him to do anything like that for anyone else. Jim was furious!” She glanced over her shoulder again. “Mr. Persall canceled his hotel orders and is dealing with Thompson.”
Was that what all this was about, I wondered cynically? Had James Olmstead put Emily up to this little speech about Ross Persall?
I could well understand Olmstead’s animosity toward me if what Emily said was true. But what could I do about it? Approach Ross Persall with a plea that he continue doing business with Olmstead? Darrel Thompson was in my class as well as Andy Olmstead. I was in no position to take sides. In all honesty, I preferred Thompson to Olmstead anyway. At least Thompson was courteous and always greeted me with a smile. His wife, Sally, was also pleasant. If I did not like Emily so much, I would take my business to Thompson’s along with Ross Persall.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I offered lamely, looking with sympathy at Emily’s ingenuous face.
“Oh it wasn’t your fault,” Emily replied quickly.
“Does your husband agree with that deduction?” I smiled.
Emily flushed and looked down. “He’ll get over it.”
I picked up my box of supplies. “Miss McFarland?” Emily detained me. “Would you come for tea sometime?”
“I would like that.”
“Some of the ladies are coming over this afternoon. Would you like to join us?”
“I’m afraid I can’t today. It’s Saturday, and I have to...” I stopped, realizing that I was about to blurt out that I was going to ride to Eden Rock to tutor Diego. “... To work at the schoolhouse,” I finished, feeling guilty for the lie. “Perhaps you’d like to come for tea at the schoolhouse sometime?”
Emily seemed disturbed by that idea. “I’d rather you came to my house,” she said frankly, and I frowned. Her aversion was as evident as it had been on the night I had arrived, though I had not thought about it much then.
“Is there something about the place that bothers you?” I asked.
“No! Oh, no. Whatever gave you that idea?” she said with a nervous laugh, looking slightly self-conscious. “I just feel ... that I spent enough time there as a child. That’s all.” Olmstead appeared from behind the curtain. Emily jumped at the sound of his voice.
“You’ve got work to do, Em.” He issued his edict. “You haven’t got time for idle gossip.” She flushed and murmured an agreeable response. I smiled coolly at him and bid her good day.
My ride to Eden Rock was easier the second time. I was surprised that Charles Studebaker was still under instructions to hold Jordan Bennett’s gelding for me. I’d been sure that Bennett would take away the horse as a means of preventing my visits to the ranch. I had no carriage and could not afford the rental of one every Saturday with my limited income. I was relieved that the horse was still there for my use. I insisted upon paying the feed expenses and decided to take the horse back to the schoolyard so that it could munch away at the tall grass around the building. Therefore, he served several functions.
When I neared the ranch, I kept tight control on the reins, in spite of the horse’s desire to head for the barn again. I wore gloves this time, and my determination won over the horse’s. It walked into the yard and with a disgruntled snort stopped at the railing before the house.
Diego came running out on the front steps, a bright smile on his brown face. “Miss McFarland!” He came hopping down the steps. “I was afraid you weren’t coming. It’s near eleven!”
I had been up since four o’clock. I had completed my housework on the schoolroom before riding to Eden Rock to see to Diego’s lessons, and I was already tired as well as stiff from the long ride. But I smiled brightly back at the boy.
“Surely you didn’t think I was going to play hooky.” I teased, and he laughed.
“Mama is waiting for us in the kitchen. She has a surprise for you.”
“A surprise... for me?”
"Sí... sí,“ he said excitedly. “Something muy special. Linda helped her make it this morning while I watched,” he announced. I followed him into the house.
This time I was more relaxed and able to admire the rich interior with its expensive provincial furniture, which had obviously been chosen by a woman with immaculate and highbred taste in design. Several heavier pieces of furniture covered in leather kept the room from looking too formal. Except for these pieces and the massive stone fireplace, the living room might have been taken from the Haversall’s Boston mansion. I frowned, remembering again my conversation with Dobson. Would I ever forget?
Passing a dining room, I noted a silver tea service on a trolley, and a china cabinet displaying an exquisite set of porcelain, delicately hand painted with china-blue flowers. I tried to envision Jordan Bennett sitting there, legs crossed, sipping politely from one of those delicate cups. I could not. I knew he must have all the amenities to have been so readily accepted in Boston society. A woman of Gwendolyn Bracklin-Reed’s breeding would not have been interested, let alone considered marrying, a man without all the necessary social graces and background. Yet, my experience of Jordan Bennett had revealed only the rugged, ruthless side of his nature. I saw him as a man standing legs astride, shoulders squared, head thrown back in defiant challenge and sardonic amusement at the expense of others.
Jordan Bennett was capable of love, for I had seen the way he looked at his young daughter. His eyes mellowed blue and softened with affection. He had a different tone when he spoke to her. I wondered how he would be with a woman he loved. The thought was disturbing, and I pressed it quickly away.
Taking in my surroundings again, I wondered if I was seeing
Gwendolyn’s influence in decorating this marvelous house. Had she really hated this place so much? How could she have hated it and yet succeeded in bringing it such a warmth and elegance mingled naturally with the rugged Western hewn-beam ceilings and stone fireplaces? For surely the sheer, lacy curtains that allowed the sun to filter in from the garden were not something Jordan Bennett would have chosen to grace his home. Nor were the decorative figurines and the brocade-covered chairs, nor the love seat and crystal chandelier. Ellen Greer must have been mistaken in her evaluation of Gwendolyn Bracklin-Reed Bennett. No woman would have so carefully filled a home with such treasures if she hated it and the man who inhabited it with her.
When I entered the kitchen, Reva Gutierrez came forward and took my hand. “I am so happy you came back. I am sorry about our last meeting. I was very unjust. You are not like the others at all. Jordan was very sorry about losing his temper with you.”
I shook my head, smiling. “There’s no need for you to apologize. It was all a misunderstanding.”
Reva Gutierrez seemed determined to explain. “Diego went to school once before. He was expelled then also. The other teacher was not like you. She did not have the courage to go against the others.”
“There was a fight then also?” I asked, wanting to defer her overly generous attitude about me.
“No,” she answered, not elaborating. She frowned thoughtfully and turned away for a moment. “My son is smarter than the others. They are jealous of him. With an education he will have much. They want him to have nothing.”
“He must have more than education,” I answered. “He will need opportunity also.”
“Jordan will make opportunity for Diego,” Reva said with assurance. Her tone implied a r
elationship that Jordan had denied by insinuation. Who was I to believe?
“I have made this in honor of you,” Reva said, changing the subject and drawing me forward as she pointed to the table. I stared at the magnificent cake with its bright, decorative icing.
“It must have taken you hours.” I admired it. There were red rosebuds, green leaves and vines, a multicolored butterfly. It was a work of art. “It’s the most beautiful cake I’ve ever seen.”
“We will have cake with coffee after my son’s lessons,” Reva said. “Diego, go and bring your books, por favor.”
“Sí, mama.” He went quickly. When he returned, we set to work. I had brought several books with me, as well as work sheets and writing materials. I assigned enough to keep him busy for the week, keeping him up with the same assignments I had given the others at his level. But Diego was hungry for more, and after watching him work, I knew that I would have to go at a quicker pace with him. His desire to learn was great.
Promising to send for more materials and books, I warned him it might be some time before I was able to get them from the East. My own funds were low until I received my next month’s salary, and I did not want to ask Reva Gutierrez for money. I thought of going to Jordan Bennett and asking if Diego could use the books I had seen on several shelves in the living room. But I was already overly aware of Bennett’s animosity toward me, and I was afraid that I might make things even more difficult if I were to dare ask him a favor. Perhaps he would offer the boy the materials.
After sharing a piece of Reva’s delicious confection and accepting a cup of strong black coffee, I had to leave. It was a long ride back to town, and it was already well past two o’clock. I wished I could linger and get to know Reva, who was a charming, though reticent hostess. Linda had said little, but seemed well pleased to have me on the ranch. Only Diego was talkative and full of questions.
The boy walked out with me to the front of the house. The gelding was there with an empty bucket next to a mounting block. I wondered who had put both there. Tying my skirt, I mounted the horse and gave Diego a wave and I drew around.
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