by A. J. Goode
Will grinned at the emotion he heard in his friend’s voice as Caroline Phillips hesitated on the step.
“I-- I . . . oh, Adam!” And with that, she threw herself into her husband’s outstretched arms with the same reckless abandon her niece had shown just moments before. Adam clung to her, half-laughing and half-crying, planting kisses on her face, her hair, her hands.
“Adam, it’s not . . . proper . . .oh, my . . .” she protested. “I’ve missed you, too!”
Then the four of them were all laughing, crying, and talking at the same time, wrapped around each other in one big tangle of hugs.
Will tore his gaze away from the Phillips family’s reunion and back to the train, where one final passenger was stepping daintily through the door.
He saw at once that she was a tiny woman, almost doll-like. She wore a black dress and coat, with an oversized hat that hid her face and hair, and she didn’t seem to require much assistance leaving the train.
So, she was a bit more spry than he had expected. Well, that was a good thing. He had to respect an elderly woman who took care of herself.
“Mrs. Dawson?” He stepped forward. “I’m Will Baxter. Welcome--”
The words dried up on his lips when the woman turned to look at him.
Victoria Dawson was lovely. Her narrow face had a pinched and tired look, but that didn’t disguise the beauty of her large green eyes and warm golden curls that had escaped from under her hat to curl around her pale skin. Her lips were full and inviting, and Will found himself shaking his head to rid his mind of sudden thoughts of kissing her.
This was not an elderly woman. If she was a day over twenty-five, he’d eat his own hat.
“I’m Victoria Dawson,” she said. Her voice was rich and musical. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Baxter.”
This would simply not do.
He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Dawson,” he said slowly, “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.”
Chapter 3
“What do you mean?” Victoria demanded. It hurt her neck to look up at the big man glaring down at her. From his letters, she’d built a mental picture of Will Baxter as a precise, scholarly-looking man, perhaps with spectacles and a neat gray suit. This hulking man in a heavy woolen coat and dark shaggy hair looked more like an errant lumberjack than a refined and educated shopkeeper. He was shockingly rugged and handsome, an observation that made her terribly uncomfortable.
“Mrs. Dawson, I’m afraid we are looking for an experienced, mature teacher for our school,” he told her. “You are much too young and pr--inexperienced for this position.
She drew herself up to her full height and glared at him. “I can assure you that I have plenty of teaching experience,” she lied. “As for my being too young, not that my age is any of your business, I am twenty-six years old. And need I remind you that we have a contract?”
An icy blast of wind hit them just then, tugging at her hat. She shivered.
“We should get out of the cold,” Will said gruffly. “I’ll collect your things and show you to the Visser’s house, where you’ll be staying. Until I can put you back on a train, that is.”
Sophie Phillips detached herself from her family’s huddle and ran over to clutch at Will’s arm. ‘Mr. Baxter, where is David? He promised to meet the train.”
“He wanted to be here, Sophie, but I needed him to mind the store for me so I could be here for Mrs. Dawson.” He winked at her. “At this point, he’s still more afraid of me than he is of you, but I doubt that will last much longer.”
Sophie giggled.
“What about Dumplin?” Emily asked.
“Fat and spoiled as ever,” Will assured her, much to the delight of both girls. “He’s gone back to your uncle’s place now that the new barn is finished, but David still visits him once in a while.”
Victoria wondered who -- or what -- Dumplin was, but didn’t ask. Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched the family reunite and was reminded of all the things she and Jonathon would never have the chance to experience.
As though sensing Victoria’s discomfort, Caroline crossed over and hugged her warmly. “Welcome to Serenity, Victoria,” she said. “It’s truly a wonderful place to live, I promise. If you need anything, just ask.”
Victoria returned the hug, grateful for her new friend. She hated to see the Phillips family climb into their wagon and leave her alone with Mr. Baxter, but she quietly directed him to where her trunk waited for them on the platform.
“That’s all you’ve got?” He hoisted it easily.
She nodded. Everything dear to her was in the trunk and the small valise that she had kept with her for the entire trip. She and Jonathon hadn’t had time to buy much for their little home before he fell ill, and it was just easier for her to sell the furniture along with the house.
Without another word, Will turned and strode down the main street of town. She hurried to keep up with him, determined not to ask him to slow down for her. After a moment, however, he slowed his pace enough for her to catch up.
“You’ll be staying with the Vissers,” he said. “Hans died in the fire, so his spinster daughter Hannah is raising the younger kids.”
As he continued to tell her about her hosts, Victoria marveled that he didn’t seem winded at all from carrying the heavy trunk while keeping such a brisk pace. He explained that the younger Visser children had a reputation for being rather wild, and it had seemed like a good idea for a mature and responsible schoolteacher to move in with them as a positive influence. At his, he shot her another withering look before continuing. “Their house is close enough to the schoolhouse that you should be able to walk there easily every day. We all wanted to make it easy for you. Thought you were going to be elderly.”
“Well, you seem to have thought of everything,” she panted, still struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride.
He stopped in front of a small clapboard house surrounded by a neat wooden fence. Even in the cold and damp weather, she could see that the front yard was well-tended, with tiny spring flowers sprouting in determined little clusters near the oversized front porch. She could almost imagine sitting on that friendly, inviting porch on a warm summer evening with a cold glass of lemonade in her hand.
Will cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the gate.
“Sorry,” she breathed, opening it for him. She closed it again after he carried her trunk through and hurried after him up the steps to the front door.
The plump young woman who opened the door appeared to be close to Victoria in age. She was dressed rather plainly, but a beaming smile lit up her round face with a scrubbed and simple sort of prettiness. She clasped her hands at the sight of Victoria and Will.
“Oh, you’re not old and mean!” she blurted. She covered her mouth in horror and then burst out laughing. “Please, come in! Mr. Baxter, you can put her things in Father’s old room, the first one on the right at the top of the stairs. I’m Hannah. Hannah Visser, and I’m so glad you’re going to stay with us! I’ve made dinner. Are you hungry? I hope you’re hungry because I made dinner. I already said that, didn’t I? Oh, it will be just lovely having another woman around! Would you like to freshen up a bit?”
Victoria tried to follow the torrent of words but the only part that managed to sink in was the fact that the girl’s name was Hannah.
“Hannah’s sort of shy,” Will said drily. “As you can see, she has a rough time warming up to strangers.”
Hannah laughed again, and even Victoria had to smile at his wry sense of humor. Will headed up the stairs with her trunk still balanced on his broad shoulders, leaving the women alone for a moment of uncomfortable silence.
It didn’t last long. Two little boys dashed into the room, the smaller one bawling Hannah’s name. He leapt into her arms, sobbing, while the bigger one tugged at Hannah’s skirt and protested loudly that he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Another boy, probably eleven or twelve years old, stroll
ed casually into the room with a biscuit in one hand and an apple in the other. “What are they hollerin’ about now?” he asked, his mouth full.
“I swear, all these kids could wake the dead,” another male voice announced. Victoria saw that an older teenaged boy had also entered the room from the kitchen, his collar and hair wet as though he had just washed his face. “Hannah, can’t you shut them up? When’s supper? Oh, hello -- who’re you?”
“Robert! Where are your manners?” Hannah scolded. “Micah, you’d better hope you haven’t ruined your dinner. James, that’s enough crying. Edward, what did you do to the baby? Please, Mrs. Dawson, forgive my brothers. They’re heathens, that’s all there is to it, but they mean well.”
All the boys stopped speaking at the same time at the mention of her name. They turned to stare at the stranger in their midst, and Victoria wanted to squirm away from the curious gazes. “I -- I’m Mrs. Dawson, the new schoolteacher,” she faltered.
“Not for long,” Will muttered, rejoining them. “Mrs. Dawson, I’ll leave you here to get acquainted, but we’ll speak more in the morning.”
“I’d like that. I look forward to seeing my school.”
He shook his head. “Don’t get too comfortable here,” he warned her. “This town doesn’t need another flighty young thing who’s going run away as soon as she finds herself a new husband.”
Victoria clenched her teeth. “Mr. Baxter,” she ground out, speaking slowly and carefully. “Mr. Baxter, I can assure you that I have no intention of running away with anyone, now or ever. My late husband is barely cold, and if you had ever loved anyone you’d understand what it’s like to bury your heart with that person. I hope you never marry, Mr. Baxter, because you know nothing about losing someone you love.”
She was shaking with rage by the time she finished. Will glared at her, nodded politely at Hannah, and turned on his heel. Victoria watched him storm away.
“Mrs. Dawson,” Hanna said softly, resting her hand on Victoria’s arm, “He -- he’s a widower. Didn’t you know?”
Chapter 4
Will stalked toward his general store, the widow’s words still ringing in his ears. “. . . if you’d ever loved anyone you’d understand what it’s like to bury your heart with that person.” Ha! It was none of her business, but of course he knew exactly how that felt. Every single day for the past eight years, he’d thought about watching his Melanie die in his arms. Every day, he’d felt the pain just as sharply. Every day, he’d seen a ghost of her smile on their son’s face, blessed and cursed at the same time to forever see her likeness in the boy who resembled his mother more and more with each passing year.
He wanted nothing more than to shout right back at the prim little schoolteacher that she wasn’t the only person in the world who had ever lost someone. Deep down inside, however, he felt a twinge of shame over his behavior toward her. He, of all people, should have been a bit more sensitive about her loss rather than insinuating that she might be so quick to replace her dead husband.
It had been cold and cruel, he realized, and he owed her an apology. But she owed him one as well, for misleading him about her age. The ad he had placed had been very specific about wanting someone mature for the position.
His anger had dimmed by the time he reached his store. His son David looked up from behind the counter when he opened the door.
“Is she -- I mean, are they back?” he asked eagerly.
“Is who back? Mrs. Phillips?” Will teased. “Emily? Or . . . now, what was the other girl’s name again? You know, little blonde girl with a big personality?”
“Pa, you know her name is Sophie.” David blushed, and Will laughed at the boy’s discomfort. David and Sophie had been best friends as long as anyone could remember, and Sophie had declared early on that she intended to marry him when they were both old enough. At times, it didn’t seem as though the mild-mannered David was going to have much say in the matter.
Will studied his son fondly. He was tall and skinny, with an awkward way of moving that reminded his father of a newborn colt stumbling about after its mother. “Nothing but ears and elbows,” as their former pastor used to say.
Still, he was a good-looking kid, Will decided. They shared the same dark hair and tall, lanky build, but that was where the similarities ended. David had inherited Melanie’s freckles and green eyes along with the slightly oversized front teeth that gave the appearance of a permanent half-smile. Will fervently hoped that their son would eventually grow into his teeth; at this point, there was definitely something horse-like about the boy’s smile as well as his way of moving.
“So? Is she back?” David persisted.
“Yes.” Will held up his hand. “And you can see her tomorrow. Let them have their reunion tonight.”
“Yessir.”
David looked so crestfallen that Will almost relented. “Son, I know you want to spend time with your friend. But you know how hard it was for Adam to be separated from his family all winter. They need some time just be alone with each other. All right?” Receiving a glum nod from his son, he went on. “You haven’t even asked about your new teacher. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“I told you I don’t need no teacher. I’m doing good without one.”
“I’d have to disagree with you on that.” Will shooed the boy out of the store, reminding him once again to leave the Phillips family alone. He wondered how Victoria was settling in with the Vissers. Perhaps he should go check on her after dinner, just to make sure she had everything she needed and maybe even offer his apology for his earlier attitude.
No, he decided, he wasn’t ready for that just yet. There was still the matter of whether or not she was actually suitable for the job. The children of Serenity had been without a teacher for nearly a year, since their former teacher stunned them all by leaving her job and running away with a man she had just met. Some parents had sent their children to school in neighboring towns of Bloomingdale or Gobleville, but most had either tried to continue their education at home or just given up.
The town needed someone stern and reliable to take over the school, and Will found it hard to believe that someone so delicate and beautiful could possibly be up to the task. Even his own thirteen-year-old son was taller than she was. If he were a betting man, he’d wager these kids were going to have her in tears before she got through her first day.
Still, a young and pretty teacher was better than no teacher at all, he argued with himself. Even if she only lasted a few days or weeks, that would give him enough time to place another ad and start his search all over again.
She might surprise us all, he thought. She may be an excellent teacher. Maybe she’ll stay on at her post for years and years, and maybe none of the single men in town will have any interest in her at all.
“And maybe pigs will fly,” he snorted out loud.
He wiped down the counter to clear away crumbs that betrayed the fact that his son had been snacking while working. That boy never seemed to stop eating.
Chuckling, Will went to the door and glanced across the street at the Visser house, wondering if David had made a beeline for their kitchen table. David’s friendship with Micah Visser was heavily influenced by Hannah’s cooking, as the young woman was known throughout town for the old-country Dutch recipes she had learned from her mother. On more than one occasion, David had been known to eat supper with the Vissers before returning home for a second meal with his father, and Will really couldn’t blame him. Even now, his stomach growled at the thought of the wonderful smells that had emanated from the kitchen while he was there with Victoria.
Victoria.
His smile faded. That woman was too pretty for her own good. The single men in Serenity were going to be attracted to her like moths to a flame, and widowed or not it was only a matter of time before she accepted an offer from one of them. Then the town would be without a teacher once more, and he’d have to go through the whole business of searching for one all over again.
Of course, he wouldn’t be one of those men pursuing her, he reminded himself. Sure, she had those deep green eyes that a man could fall into and get lost. And the plain black dress she wore did nothing to disguise a trim figure that filled him with a sudden urge to see if he could span her tiny waist with his two hands and lift her easily. He wanted to touch those golden corkscrew curls and find out for himself if her hair felt as silky as it appeared.
“Forgive me, Melanie,” he murmured, shaking his head to clear the improper thoughts from his mind. He was a married man, for goodness sake. Widowed all these nears, but married nonetheless. It was wrong of him to have those thoughts about any woman other than his dear Melanie.
Leave it to the other men in town to make fools of themselves chasing her around. She’d have her share of suitors to choose from soon enough, and she’d lose all interest in teaching their children. Either that, or she’d give up and flee when she discovered just how rambunctious the children of Serenity could be.
He smiled grimly. He was just going to have to make sure he found a new teacher before that happened. He’d place another ad immediately, he decided, because there was just no possible way that Mrs. Victoria Dawson would last more than a week here.
If he were a betting man, he’d be willing to place that bet.
Chapter 5
Victoria didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t that there were any problems with her surroundings; her room was clean and pleasant and her bed was comfortable. Her hosts seemed pleasant as well, if a bit noisy, and Hannah was an excellent cook if last night’s meal was any indication.
No, she tossed and turned under the warm quilts because guilt was gnawing at her conscience. Guilt and a bit of shame, too.
It had never occurred to her that Will might be a widower. She wondered how long ago he had lost his wife. Was he drowning in fresh grief as she was, or had the poor man had more years to move on?
