“As a matter of fact, I have,” Colt told him, recalling how the brightness of that smile gave the sun a run for its money. He cleared his throat. Time to change the subject before his friend thought of another argument for him to woo the teacher.
“Enough about that,” he said. “How about some of the chocolate pie she brought over? I’d like to be selfish and not share, but since you’re going to help with Brady, I guess I should offer you a piece.”
“Allison made a pie for you?”
“Don’t start trying to make something of it,” Colt growled. “I invited her for supper and a game of croquet, and she offered to bring dessert, that’s all.”
Ace crossed his arms over his chest. “Hmm.”
* * *
All eyes turned toward Allison when she walked into the Sunday service with the two Garrett children by her side. Even though she’d talked nonstop about what they could expect, they still looked uncomfortable when heads turned their way. Allison gave them an encouraging smile, and the next thing she knew they were being bombarded by schoolmates. Ben and Danny were the first to rush up to Brady, asking if he could sit with them. Past experience had taught her that that would be a recipe for disaster, so she told them, “Perhaps another time.”
Regina Dance’s daughter, who was maybe a year older than Cilla, approached her with a shy smile, and Bethany, wearing a wide grin, told Cilla she was glad she had come.
The adults eyed the trio with out-and-out curiosity, no doubt wondering what on earth the children were doing attending church with her and speculating as to whether or not there was anything going on between her and Colt. Well, let everyone think what they would. The truth would be all over town soon enough. That would stop the wagging tongues.
She and the children sat next to Bethany and Ellie, who warned her daughter not to be whispering to Cilla during the sermon. Gracie and Big Dan Mercer came in and sat on the other side. Allison couldn’t help but notice the solicitous way Dan treated her, or the happiness that shone from her friend’s eyes.
The minister spoke on I Corinthians 13, the importance of love. He talked about how easy it was to love our family and those who were good to us, yet the Bible commanded Christians to love everyone—the poor, those who were different, even our enemies and those who treated us badly, emphasizing that all the good works in the world were worthless if performed out of a sense of duty and not motivated by love.
Much to Allison’s surprise, Cilla and Brady were so intent on listening they barely moved a muscle, soaking up the words like thirsty sponges. Or maybe they were just scared to act out with Allison sitting there.
When the service was over, the preacher reminded everyone about the ice-cream social the following Saturday at Jackson’s Grove, then dismissed the assembly. Cilla and Brady exchanged excited smiles. Accompanied by their friends, they headed for the door.
Allison was prepared for an onslaught of questions once she’d exited the building with the children, but even though a few asked why she’d brought them, the real topic of conversation was the imminent return of Caleb and Gabe’s mother, Libby Gentry Granville.
After making her peace with her sons from her first marriage, Libby had decided to spend several months of the year in Wolf Creek so that she could get to know her older sons better and enjoy her grandchildren. She would be arriving from Boston with her stepson, Win, and her daughter by her second husband on the Wednesday morning train.
As Allison walked the children home, Cilla said her dad would be at the jail working since Dan had the morning off to attend services with Gracie. They asked if they could stop by and tell Colt they were headed home to eat. Allison had no choice but to accompany them. It was the responsible thing to do, after all. To her dismay, her heart began to race at the thought of seeing him again.
* * *
Colt was trying to read the latest copy of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, but he couldn’t concentrate on the big-city news for thinking about Brady’s stunning announcement that they were on board with Allison’s suggestions. Ace’s not-so-subtle hints that Colt would be smart if he actually tried to woo Allison kept slipping into his mind, too.
He couldn’t deny that he’d entertained a few wayward thoughts from time to time since they’d embarked on their joint mission to try to tame his children’s behavior. He supposed they were triggered by the fact that he was seeing different aspects of her and her personality than he’d observed before. Even so, he’d never once considered her as a serious candidate for marriage until, in fairness to his quest, he’d added her name to that stupid list.
With Big Dan’s stamp of approval and unable to forget Ace’s praise of Allie, Colt pulled the list from his desk drawer. He had promised to give thoughtful deliberation to every eligible woman in town, whether she was unmarried, widowed or a spinster. Doggedly, he studied the names he’d crossed out, reconsidering once more the pluses and minuses of each one and trying to visualize each of them in his house performing the various duties as a wife and mother.
He couldn’t see any of them in the role.
Clutching his head in his hands, he tried to think of other names to add and came up with nothing. No one.
Every woman, Colt, remember?
Feeling a bit cornered but determined to finish the task, he went through the same procedure with Allison. He imagined her bustling around in his kitchen in a frilly white apron, whipping up some of the same meals he enjoyed so much at Ellie’s.
Fine. Okay. He could see that.
He conjured up a scenario of her with him and the kids in the evenings, reading or playing games and helping with their lessons.
He could definitely picture that!
He visualized her in his kitchen with Cilla, sharing cooking duties and even coaxing Brady into setting the table with a bit of cajoling and that amazing smile of hers.
All right, he admitted with a sigh. Maybe it wasn’t so hard picturing her in his house and his life after all, but that didn’t prove anything except that she was accomplished in many areas and well suited to becoming some man’s wife.
What on earth was he doing? He wasn’t going to sit here and concoct pleasant scenarios about a woman to try to convince himself that everything would be hunky-dory just because he and the kids wanted and needed a wife and mother. It wasn’t just unfair to everyone involved—it was downright wrong!
Wrong or not, he couldn’t help thinking that Allison was a good candidate to be a mother, too. Even though she would be strict, she would also be fair. She’d already proved that. And the way things had been going the past few days, Colt believed that even though Cilla and Brady weren’t thrilled about him marrying again, if it did happen, they would grow to accept and care for Allison in record time.
What about you?
Yeah, what about what was best for him? Maybe he was being idealistic, but having tasted love once, he wanted to find it again. Was that possible with Allison? He believed in the sanctity of marriage. If he felt compelled to enter one that did not have love, he would insist on at least mutual respect and a certain level of attraction...something other than convenience!
A new image stole through his mind: waking up beside Allison every morning, rolling over and seeing her face close to his, her eyes soft and dreamy. Before he could do more than register that the image was more than a little appealing, he realized he was doing it again. He needed to step back and get some perspective on things. But how, when the two of them were more or less forced to spend time together?
At this point, there was nothing he could do about that, but that was as far as it would go. It was as far as he would let it go. He would keep things between them just as they were now. Friendly. Casual. Professional.
He was patting himself on the back for his rational decision when he heard voices outside. He covered the tablet with the newspaper and looke
d up just as the door opened.
When the trio stepped into the office, Allison and the children all decked out in their Sunday finery, he couldn’t stop the random thought that raced through his mind. Despite his brand-new resolution, they made a pleasing family portrait.
Brady had been horrified that his father wanted to buy him a new suit for the occasion, so they’d compromised on a pair of long gray trousers with leather braces and a new collarless shirt. Cilla was wearing her blue-and-white gingham dress and her new hair bow. Allison was decked out in another of those wretched frilly frocks!
The sight almost, but not quite, banished the memories of the homey images still clinging to his thoughts. He feared his welcoming smile was more than a bit stiff. “How did it go?”
“I liked it,” Brady said with a smile. “The singing sounded like angels.”
“That’s nice.”
“I liked it okay.” As usual lately, Cilla pretended a disinterest that the sparkle in her eyes belied. Though he’d had no desire to join them, he was glad they’d enjoyed the experience and knew that Patrice would be happy, too.
“Did they behave?” Colt asked Allison, who, it seemed, had picked up on his intentional coolness.
She offered him a taut smile of her own. “They couldn’t have behaved any better. I think their friends were happy to see them there, too.”
“Yeah, Danny and Ben were there, and some of Cilla’s friends,” Brady offered, warming to the subject. “There’s gonna be an ice-cream social at Jackson’s Grove next Saturday,” Brady said. “Can we go?”
“Don’t we always?”
“Yeah, but I thought maybe you’d forgotten since you hadn’t mentioned it.”
“If you recall, we’ve had an unusual few days,” Colt said.
Brady suddenly found the toes of his shoes extremely interesting.
“Are you going, Miss Grainger?” Cilla asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it. In fact, I plan to bring peach ice cream.”
Peach just happened to be Colt’s favorite. Wasn’t that a coincidence?
Cilla’s eyes brightened. “Why don’t we stop by and pick you up? We could do that, couldn’t we, Pa?” she said, turning to her father.
Allison looked as dismayed as Colt felt by the innocent request. He pinned his daughter with a look that wiped the happiness from her eyes, but he paused only the slightest bit before saying, “Of course we can.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Allison said. “I’ll just see you all there.” She smiled at Cilla. “You and Brady feel free to come over tomorrow. Brady can help me weed the front flower bed while you practice on the piano. Mrs. Carson says you’re picking it up very quickly.”
“Really?” Cilla breathed in awe. “How can she tell? I’ve only had one lesson.”
“Well, she says you’re paying close attention to everything she says, and your memory is excellent.” Allison offered her a gentle smile. “Sometimes, it isn’t reaching the goal that matters, Cilla. It’s what we observe and learn along the way, things we can take and use in other areas of our lives. Like paying attention and obeying instructions. Your piano playing may never be exceptional, just as my embroidery skills will never be as good as either of my sisters’, but if we learn and get pleasure from doing it, that’s all that matters.”
Colt was amazed at the wisdom of her comment. Cilla seemed to mull it over before she gave a cheeky smile and said, “Well, along the way to playing the piano really well, I’d like to learn to make sugar cookies.”
Allison laughed, the unrestrained delight of the sound filling the room. A bittersweet longing for something he couldn’t put a name to pricked Colt’s heart.
“All right, then. If you come a little early, I’ll show you how to make cookies.” With a jaunty little wave toward the children, Allison turned and left the office.
Colt couldn’t believe how sad they looked when she left, but was more amazed at how empty the room felt. It seemed she’d taken all the joy along with her.
* * *
To her surprise, Allison received replies from both of her professors in Thursday’s mail. Both letters mentioned a learning problem that had been recognized just that year. Dyslexia. She devoured the contents of both dispatches, trying to grasp the nuances of the condition and pulling suggestions from both missives about the methods being used to treat those suffering from it.
She made notes as she read, and hoped she could explain things in a way that would not upset Colt. They had come a long way since their initial bout of head-butting, but she hadn’t seen him since Sunday, even though the children came by for an hour or two daily. Something had happened to their easy camaraderie between the time she and the kids had left for church on Sunday and the time she dropped them off at the jail afterward.
Allison had searched her mind for some clue as to what she might have done, but even after four days, she had no idea what that might be. She did know that she didn’t want to say or do anything that might add fuel to the fire.
She missed seeing him. It was pure foolishness on her part, but there it was. Like an inexperienced schoolgirl, she’d allowed his solicitousness, gentleness and the intense way he’d looked at her plant the seed that he might be starting to like her a little. Unable to help herself, she’d nurtured that absurd hope, allowing herself a few daydreams, forgetting for a time that the most eligible man in Wolf Creek would have no interest in her other than her ability to help his children.
She heaved a deep sigh of dismay. Colt blowing hot and then cold had triggered her old insecurities and reminded her that it would be the height of foolishness to care about someone again—especially someone like Colt Garrett. Caring too much would only cause the kind of pain she never again wanted to experience. Maybe Colt’s standoffishness was a good thing. It had opened her eyes to the futility of wishing for something she knew in her heart could never be.
There was much in her life for which she should be thankful. She was healthy and able to support herself in a comfortable lifestyle if she spent her money wisely. She was a good teacher despite her inability—so far—to help Brady. She was liked and respected in the community. She had dear friends, attended a wonderful church and had a sister and precious niece living nearby whom she loved and who loved her.
She was blessed far beyond many, and yet she wanted more. She wanted a husband and children of her own. She felt the trickle of tears down her cheeks and buried her face in her hands, crying for lost love and shattered dreams. And then she prayed for the strength and common sense she’d need to withstand Colt’s charm the next few weeks and for wisdom to know how best to help his children.
She prayed for contentment with her lot.
And peace.
* * *
Dreading the conversation she knew she needed to have with Colt, Allison waited until the sun began its descent and she’d run out of excuses before making her way to the Garrett house. Her steps dragged and her stomach churned at the thought of seeing him again and what his reaction would be to her news.
She found them all in the backyard. Cilla sat on the porch next to her father, an embroidery hoop in her lap, while Ace instructed Brady in the skill of shooting a bow. She paused, wondering if she was catching them at a bad time, looking for any reason to postpone the face-to-face meeting.
The masculine picture Colt made in his dungarees and blue chambray shirt caused her stomach to flutter. His shirtsleeves were rolled above his elbows, revealing tanned, muscular forearms dusted with golden-brown hair. Recalling the strength of those arms when he’d carried her, and forgetting that she was determined to keep their relationship on a strictly business level, she suppressed a little sigh of longing.
Brady noticed her and shouted, “Hi, Miss Grainger! I’m practicing.”
“So I see,” she called, returning Cilla’s wave. �
�Don’t let me stop you.”
To her dismay, Colt leaped to his feet and headed toward her.
* * *
Sticking with his plan, Colt had avoided Allison since Sunday, which had landed him in the doghouse with both Cilla and Brady. Yet the moment Brady called Allie’s name and Colt looked up to see her coming around the corner of the house, he’d experienced an incredible surge of pleasure that swept aside his vows to keep things formal.
He’d missed her.
The realization caught him off guard, depriving him of breath for a split second. Taken aback by the unexpected feeling, he called her name.
From that moment until she found his gaze, his mind registered one impression after another. Her hair, in a variation of her customary topknot, was parted in the center, pulled severely back and coiled at the nape of her neck. Somehow the slight change in the style looked more appealing than it did twisted atop her head.
The second thing to register was that something was wrong. Her eyes looked haunted behind the lenses of the new glasses perched on the freckled bridge of her straight little nose. Not since the early days of their dubious association had she looked so aloof. Not since the morning they’d breakfasted at Ellie’s and she’d mentioned her weight had she looked so miserable.
“I hope I’m not disturbing your evening.”
The sound of her voice, soft and low-pitched, dragged his thoughts back to the moment. “Not at all. Cilla and I were just watching Brady and giving the kitchen a chance to cool off before we tackle the dishes. Have you had supper?”
“I did, thank you.”
“Have a seat.” He gestured toward the spot between where he’d been sitting with Cilla.
He saw her lips press together as she realized she would be sandwiched between the two of them. An uncomfortable spot...for her and him. Literally squaring her shoulders, she mustered her courage and sat.
“Do you mind if I look at your work, Cilla?”
Wolf Creek Father (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 3) Page 12
