Reach for Heaven
Page 2
The closer the rider approached, the quicker Adella walked. This lane was narrow, and with her in the path of the horse, she didn’t want to get in the other person’s way.
As she turned the bend, a space in the trees caused the sun to shine brightly on the road. Adella squinted, shielding her eyes more. But the rushing horseman was nearly upon her. She whipped around, hoping to catch the rider’s notice. Instead, the animal and person on top continued to barrel toward her. Why couldn’t the imbecile see her? Was he blind? Yet blind men didn’t ride horses...
Panicked, she screamed and jumped out of the way. Her ankle twisted, and she fell to the ground. The elevation of the slope pulled her downward, and she rolled toward the small stream. Papers she’d once held tight to her chest flew in disarray all around her. Before she could plunge into the creek bed, she dug her palms in the soil and stopped herself. When she sat upright, she glanced at her throbbing hands, scratched and dirtied from the rocky soil.
The horse’s snort yanked her attention back up to the road. The rider dismounted and grumbled loudly. He stepped to the top of the knoll and looked down at her.
“Miss, are you all right?”
Am I all right? Of all the confounded things to ask! “Of course I’m not all right. I was nearly trampled by a horse, and I’m certain his rider didn’t have an inkling of slowing so as not to hit me.”
The man tilted his head. The cowboy hat with a slouched front and the glare from the sun behind him, kept her from seeing his face completely so she didn’t know what expression he had. By the way he leaned more on one leg and had his arms folded smartly across his chest, she surmised his attitude wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. Well, two could play this particular temperament game.
“Miss, the reason I almost ran you over was because I didn’t see you. The sun was blinding me.”
“Perhaps you lay blame on the sun when in reality you need spectacles.” She shifted on the ground, looking for a way to stand in a ladylike manner.
“Can you make it up the hill by yourself?”
Grumbling under her breath, she hoped she would be able to hold her tongue and not say anything that would eventually embarrass her. She adjusted herself to stand, but her bruised hand weakened and she slipped again.
The man huffed and inched his way down the hill toward her, holding his hands up in surrender. “Please stay on the ground. Don’t get up. Let me assist you.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the sarcastic tone of his voice. Well, she’d make certain he wouldn’t like hers, either. “Oh, no! Heaven forbid you get your fancy boots dirty. Just stay there. I’ll be fine.” She noticed that although his attire looked like he’d just walked off a ranch, the style of clothing and boots were that of the highest quality.
Her hands stung, her knees ached, and the swollen knot in her ankle throbbed, but she would manage without too much pain. She’d rather be in agony than accept his help.
The man reached her side and held out his hand. “Please, Your Highness. Allow me to help you.”
The sneer to his voice made her grit her teeth. How dare he act like this was all her fault! “Your assistance is not needed, I assure you. I can tell you’re in a hurry to leave...so please do so.”
She scooted to her knees then slowly stood. The insipid man didn’t listen to her because he grasped her elbow—a little too hard for her liking—and helped her up. Trying not to meet his eyes, she brushed leaves and dirt from her gingham dress.
“Actually, I am in a hurry. I have an appointment in town in a few minutes. Since I’m not from around here, it was easy to get lost.” He gave released an irritated breath. “But rest assured, I will still help you back up the hill before I leave.”
If only he sounded like he was sincere, she might want to take him up on his offer. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I think I can manage.”
When she stepped on her twisted ankle, pain shot up her leg. She cried out and stumbled back toward the ground. Before she could fall, the man’s strong arms lifted her. Gasping, she clutched his shoulders to keep from slipping.
“Good heavens, woman. Are you naturally clumsy?”
She gasped and glared at him. “I’m not clumsy in the least! I twisted my ankle when I fell down the hill, you imbecile.”
“There is no need for name calling. After all, I was only trying to help.” With his arms cradling her, his strong legs took large strides as he carried her up the hill. “Sit right here.” He placed her on a boulder.
The rude man stepped back and removed his cowboy hat. He swiped fingers through golden-wheat colored hair, pushing it off his forehead. Impatient hazel eyes stared at her as a faux smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“By the way, my name is Gage Grayson.”
“Adella St. James,” she grumbled back.
“Nice to meet you.” He yanked his hat back on his head. “Are those your papers scattered along the ground?” He pointed to the spot where she’d rolled.
She groaned. “Yes. That was today’s test.” She shrugged. “I suppose my class won’t be too upset to know they won’t get a test today.”
“You’re the schoolteacher?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what a surprise.” Mr. Grayson scrubbed his hand over his stubbly jaw and glanced down the hill. “Am I to assume you expect me to collect your papers now?”
Augh! Could this man get any more obtuse? “On the contrary, Mr. Grayson. As soon as the swelling goes down and the pain disappears from my ankle, I can retrieve the papers myself and get to my class on time to set up before the other students arrive. No need to bother yourself on my account. It’s not like you are the reason I’m in this condition, anyway.”
“Women!” he grumbled as he turned and moved away from her, picking up the scattered papers.
Adella honestly could not believe the gall of that man. For being new in town, he wasn’t trying very hard to be sociable. If he treated everyone he met with such high regard, she was certain he’d be the toast of the town very soon.
As she studied him in silence, she realized he looked to be only a few years older than her, perhaps in his late-twenties. His long, tan overcoat emphasized his broad shoulders—muscles she’d just clung to not more than two minutes ago. His jeans and boots even looked new. If she dared admit...he was quite handsome, too. Thankfully his rude behavior quickly made him ugly in her eyes.
Her ankle throbbed harder, and she carefully pulled up her skirt just enough to see the damage. Of course, there was no way she could see her ankle since the leather of her boot covered it. However, it did feel swollen. Gingerly, she ran her hand over her sore spot, then flinched.
“Here are your papers,” Mr. Grayson said.
She jerked upright and quickly dropped her skirt into place to cover her boot. Her cheeks heated, realizing what the stranger must think of her now. “Thank you.” She grabbed the sheets from his hands.
He glanced at her foot. “Are you in much pain?”
“Don’t concern yourself now, Mr. Grayson, since you haven’t done so far since we met. I think my ankle will be back to normal in no time.”
“Nevertheless, I think I should look at it. I’ve worked with animals for years, and I can tell the difference between a bruise from a break by now.” He winked.
Before Adella had time to answer, he knelt and his fingers grasped her calf. In one smooth motion, he lifted the skirt to peek at her leg. She squealed and tried to yank away from his very personal touch. “Mr. Grayson, this is highly improper—”
“Miss St. James? If I were a doctor, would you then allow me to examine your foot?”
“Of course. What an impertinent question to ask, but you are not a doctor.”
“As I’d mentioned, I have taken care of animals—”
She arched an eyebrow in annoyance. “Are you a Veterinarian or have some kind of doctoring license?”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t go ar
ound letting strange men look at my bare feet, especially if they are unqualified.” She wiggled her leg, trying to get it out of his grasp.
“Don’t be such a baby.” Ignoring her request, he lifted up her skirt, almost to her knees.
She slapped his hands. “What? Did you just call me a baby?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” His fast fingers plucked at the laces to her boot. “I just don’t think you should get all riled over nothing.”
“You think this is nothing? Are you real, Mr. Grayson? I believe you have no feelings at all.” In reality, she couldn’t believe any of this was happening. She’d never met a more inconsiderate man in her life.
“Now see,” he said after pulling her boot off, “that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Anger pumped through her faster and she clutched the sheets of paper to her chest. “How dare you—”
“There’s nothing to be so upset over, Miss St. James.”
He continued to inspect her foot as if she allowed his attention. Tenderly, the tips of his fingers moved around her stockinged ankle. A small amount of pain shot through her and she groaned. The stubborn man was going to do whatever he pleased no matter what she said, so she might as well allow him to inspect her.
“It doesn’t look broken—just a sprain,” he said.
“Are you quite done pawing at my foot now, Doctor Grayson?”
With an irritated sigh, he placed her boot back on. “Pardon me, Miss St. James. I didn’t mean to offend you. After all, you’ve pointed out several times already how all of this is my fault. I’m just trying to make amends.” He tied the laces then stepped back.
She tried to simmer her anger, but her heart still hammered in an aggravated rhythm. At this moment, all she wanted was to be out of his presence, yet she knew her ankle was too bruised to walk. “Currently, the only help I need from you is to take me to the schoolhouse since I cannot walk very well.”
He touched the brim of his hat in a salute. “Your wish is my command, Duchess.”
Adella would like to slap the sarcasm right out of his voice. Since she wasn’t a tomboy any longer, hitting a man would only ruin her reputation as a lady, and she wasn’t about to let this man have that kind of power. Besides, what did he have to be upset about? Did she hurt his ego because she didn’t want him examining her like a regular doctor?
Mr. Grayson scooped her back into his arms again. She cried out and grasped onto his muscular shoulders, trying not to drop the test papers again. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you back to the schoolhouse as promised.”
He sat her on top of his horse before swinging himself on behind her. She scowled at him over her shoulder. “Do you really have to ride behind me?”
He shrugged. “We’ll get there faster if I ride.” Both arms slid around her as he reached for the reins.
She did not like his nearness at all. Thank goodness the schoolhouse wasn’t very far. Riding this close was highly improper—and with a stranger, no less! For all she knew, he was the sort of man who would violate a woman’s person without second thoughts. Or, heaven forbid, what if he rode around the countryside killing people? Too many thieves and outlaws out there to harm anybody they could.
Stiff as she could keep herself, she didn’t say a word until they reached the school and not until he helped her from the horse and she limped away from him, did she dare speak. “Mr. Grayson, I thank you for the ride here. For your sake, though, I pray you have a better day and you change your attitude mighty fast. Other people will not like being treated unkindly.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “And I hope you don’t take your sour mood out on your students.” He tipped his hat to her. “It was certainly...um, interesting meeting you, Duchess.”
“My name is Miss St. James,” she snapped.
A teasing grin tugged at his mouth. “If you say so.”
She stood clutching the papers to her chest until he rode away, and then she breathed a relieved sighed. He really didn’t look dangerous since he wasn’t wearing a holster belt, but he’d shown her firsthand how looks could be deceiving. However, his bad manners and obstinate temper were very dangerous.
As she walked into the schoolhouse, she grumbled the whole way, wishing her ankle didn’t hurt so much. She glanced down at her dress. Spots of dirt still clung to the fabric, and she could only imagine what her face and hair looked like. Limping, she moved directly to the small mirror kept in the drawer and withdrew it. When she looked at her reflection, she groaned. Indeed, she looked a fright!
The bulk of her hair had fallen out of the knot she’d wound it in earlier this morning. Wisps of ratted, dirty auburn curls hung by her ears. Dirt had smudged her face—across her cheeks and chin—making her appear no more than a ragamuffin. Good grief! No wonder Doctor Grayson hadn’t treated her with respect. She didn’t look like a schoolteacher now, but instead, a street urchin.
She had enough time to make herself presentable and still get the classroom ready before the children arrived. The more she walked on her foot, the quicker the pain left. Still slightly swollen, but she could walk nonetheless.
The day passed, and just as she suspected, the children were not too upset that they couldn’t take the test. When Adella described what had happened to her, anger rose inside her once again. To think that man had been so rude. She couldn’t believe he’d taken such liberties!
Obviously he’d been raised with the cows because his manners weren’t any better.
Later in the afternoon while she sat behind her desk correcting assignments, playful laughter floated through the air and in the open window of the schoolhouse. With a smile, Adella peered out the window. Her students were playing blind man’s bluff. Adella’s sister, Lydia, stood in the center of the ring of children, her eyes covered with a cloth as she blindly reached to find someone.
Being one of the oldest students made Lydia more popular, especially with the boys. Then again, the other boys her age also thought Lydia was quite lovely—and they were right. The sixteen-year-old sister had grown into a real beauty. Her brown hair was so much darker and silkier than before, and those wondrous blue eyes probably melted a few boys’ hearts.
Adella pushed away from her desk and slowly limped out of the room, careful not to step on her foot the wrong way. She hobbled down the outside stairs, breathing in the fresh spring weather. Days like this reminded her of when she was younger and had been in school, wanting so badly to play outside instead of staying in the schoolhouse learning her times tables.
Her youngest sister, Charity, now in her thirteenth year, sat underneath a shade tree with three other girls her age, whispering and pointing at the boys. Every so often the girls would laugh with merriment. It did Adella’s heart glad to see her sisters so happy now.
Since they had barely escaped their burning house that fateful night, Adella didn’t think she and her sisters would ever be the same again—or find a loving home. Wilfred and Sally St. James had found the helpless, weak, and cold little girls the day after. The British couple had gotten rich from the gold rush and took the girls with them to Idaho, where they’ve lived ever since.
Adella lied to the St. James’ about what happened to their real parents, fearful of taking the chance of having the childless couple abandon them. For nearly two years Charity hadn’t talked because of the trauma the poor young girl had witnessed that life-altering night. Now for her sisters, it was as if their past never happened—which made Adella grateful. She didn’t know how much they remembered, and Adella hoped their minds had blocked the tragic night.
“Miss St. James,” one of the boys called from the game. “Come play with us.”
Although Adella shouldn’t because she still had a bunch of assignments to look through, the youthful girl hiding somewhere inside her pushed her down the stairs and toward the students—even though she shuffled. The irritation she’d felt this morning at Mr. Grayson had left, and she finally enjoyed the day. When she reach
ed the children, they were laughing. Adella’s smile widened. Lydia removed the cloth over her eyes and proceeded to tie it around her sister’s head.
“No peeking,” Lydia warned before spinning her sister five times and letting her go.
Adella had always been good at this game. Her sisters and friends told her it was because Adella had eyes in her ears. It had been a few years since she’d played, but it didn’t matter. She listened intently for whispers, or swishing of dresses—anything that would give a person away.
Other sounds tried to confuse her as well; the squawking birds flying overhead, the wind through the trees, pangs from the Blacksmith shop nearby, and the one-horse buggy riding on the road near the schoolhouse. It didn’t matter. The laughter of the kids was the very sound Adella focused on.
She reached for someone, but her hands didn’t touch. Whoever it was had even fallen to the ground because of the thud Adella heard. She reached again, and her fingers brushed by cloth, but she couldn’t grasp. The giggles of her students flitted through the air in carefree tones.
Something in the atmosphere changed, and Adella couldn’t hear her student’s laughter any longer, only whispering. Beside her, she felt as if the sun had been blocked. Sharply, she turned to grasp the person she knew stood so close. A solid body met hers and her hands knocked against the wide chest of a man.
A man? None of the boys in her class could claim such a wide, masculine frame. Suddenly, her heart sank and she prayed it wasn’t the insipid, rude stranger she’d met this morning. Confused, she ripped off the cloth covering her eyes and met the smile of the mayor’s son, Albert Owens. His brown orbs sparkled in humor.
“It looks as if you caught me, Miss St. James.” He held up his hands in surrender.
All around them, the students clapped and cheered. Heat rushed to Adella’s cheeks as she sighed in relief. Embarrassed, she stepped back, not wanting to be that close to the man she’d secretly held feelings for since they were in school together.