Luke wiped his mouth on his napkin and grinned at his wife. “You just get sassier by the day, don’t you, darlin’?”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way and you know it.” Filly gave him a loving glance. “Now, tell Alex what the men told you.”
“In summary, the two members of the school board who observed your class today reported your methods unique and innovative. They’ve never witnessed anyone engage the students and help them learn in such a manner. Both of them remarked on your superior intelligence, particularly in regard to the members of the school board, and assured me there is nothing questionable taking place in your classes.”
Alex let out the breath she’d held when Luke began to speak and sighed in relief.
“However, they did say you performed a magic trick for them I’ve not yet seen and I’m sorely disappointed.”
Arlan chuckled while Alex grinned at Luke. “I promise to show it to you after dinner.”
“In that case, all is well.” Luke picked up his spoon and took another bite of his stew.
Filly glanced at Alex with admiration. “Were you really translating a story from Italian to English while you read?”
“Yes. I’ve read the story many times, so it really isn’t hard to do.”
Arlan glanced at Alex and imperceptibly shook his head. The woman continually earned his admiration. He’d heard Jenkins and Grove tell Luke their thoughts about Alex, expounding on her intelligence, humor, and ability to handle the students with ease. Poor Edna would be lucky to get her job back when she returned to Hardman.
Almost feeling sorry for the girl, Arlan recalled the scathing note he’d received from her in the mail just that day, calling him any number of names a proper lady would never use. No, the woman definitely didn’t deserve his pity.
“If I passed the evaluation of the school board, does that mean Mrs. Decker will stop trying to get me fired?” Alex gave Luke a questioning glance. “I’ve only got a month to fulfill before I leave anyway. Do you think she can make it that long?”
Arlan wanted to protest that she couldn’t leave, but he knew that was her agreement. With her wagon repaired and paid for, she had no reason to stay.
Nevertheless, when she left town, she’d take his heart along for the ride.
“I don’t think it much matters what she wants at this point.” Luke lifted another roll from the basket and slathered it with butter. “She can’t keep making up reasons why you should be relieved of your duties. The school board is certainly done listening to her complaints and the sheriff told her unless someone was dying not to bother him again.”
Alex hoped to make it through the last month of her teaching service without any more interference from the nosy, judgmental woman but she doubted it would happen. For whatever reason, Mrs. Decker declared her the enemy and Alex held a firm certainty that the woman fully intended to win the war.
Aware of her gaze fixed on her stew as she lost herself in her thoughts, Arlan gave her a troubled glance. “Is Fred still pestering you?”
“Not that I can prove.” Alex picked up her spoon and took a bite of the rich, beefy stew. Feeling three sets of eyes fastened on her, she wiped her mouth on a napkin and set her spoon back on her plate. “Some odd things have happened, but I didn’t see anyone do them, so I can’t say for certain it was Fred.”
“What sort of things?” Arlan’s voice sounded hard when he spoke.
Wary of adding fuel to a smoldering fire, Alex hesitated to speak.
“Go on, Alex, you can tell us.” Filly prompted, placing a gentle hand on her arm.
She smiled at her friend and licked her suddenly dry lips. “One morning I discovered a dozen mice running around the classroom when I went in to build the fire in the stove before the students arrived. Another day I found dead squirrels in the woodpile. Someone painted the word witch on my door and earlier this week, I was trapped in the necessary.”
“Alex! Why didn’t you say something?” Arlan looked ready to do bodily harm to Fred Decker.
“Because I don’t have any proof it was Fred.”
“How long were you trapped in the um…” Filly asked. There weren’t too many places that could be worse to be held captive than the school outhouse.
“Not long. I could hear someone moving around outside right after I shut the door. When I called out no one answered. Whoever it was wrapped a rope around the building so the door couldn’t open.”
“How did you get out? Did someone find you?” Luke asked.
“No, it was at night. I always carry a knife with me and a few of the cracks in the outhouse are nearly big enough to stick your hand through. I managed to cut the rope and free myself.”
Arlan didn’t know what proved most disturbing - the fact Fred lurked around Alex’s place at night, that he’d locked her in the outhouse, or that she carried a knife with her. A glimpse at Luke assured Arlan he experienced the same thoughts.
“It sounds to me like Fred’s watching you.” Luke’s tone conveyed his concern. “Why don’t you stay here with us, Alex? I’m not sure it’s safe for you to stay out at the school alone with things as they are.”
“Please, Alex. We’d love to have you. I know you like spending time with Maura.” Filly smiled encouragingly.
“No. As much as I appreciate your very kind offer, I can’t. If I do, it’s letting Fred and Mrs. Decker win. Besides, I’ve told you before, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” It would be so easy to let her friends take care of her, but Alex hadn’t ever been one to do what was easy when she needed to do what was right.
“What if something happens to you? What if Fred breaks into your house or decides…” Arlan couldn’t finish voicing his thoughts. If anything happened to Alex, he didn’t think he could bear it.
Alex bent over and lifted her skirt and petticoat just enough she could pull something from inside the boot she wore.
Luke and Arlan glared at the spear-pointed knife she set on the table. Arlan picked it up and studied the stag-horn handle and thin but razor-sharp blade.
“You carry this with you at all times?” He couldn’t fathom a woman carrying such a wicked looking weapon, in her boot, no less.
“Of course. I never go anywhere without it and this.”
Alex dug into the pocket of her skirt and carefully placed a small revolver on the table in front of her plate.
Filly gasped while Luke gaped at the gun.
He whistled and looked at Arlan. “That’s a twenty-two caliber knuckleduster.” His eyes sparked with interest as he turned to Alex. “May I?”
“Help yourself.” Alex grinned as Luke expertly picked up the gun and examined it.
“It’s quite pretty with all that scrollwork on the handle,” Filly commented, leaning over to see the gun as Luke inspected it.
“Despite the pretty flowers in the silver, this is a deadly weapon, darlin’. Jim Reid manufactured these My Friend revolvers. This cylinder holds seven rounds and you can riddle somebody full of holes before they know what’s happened. If you’ve still got trouble, you turn the gun around in your hand, like this…” Luke twisted the gun so the barrel rested in his palm and his finger went through the loop in the handle over his knuckle. “It’s like brass knuckles.”
“Good heavens!” Filly’s eyes widened as Luke handed the gun back to Alex. She returned it to her pocket and the knife to her boot.
“I’m envious, Alex. Reid closed up his shop a few years ago. You’re fortunate to have one of his guns.” Luke grinned at her, heedless to the thunder riding Arlan’s brow.
“My father knew him. That’s how I came to have the gun. The world isn’t always a safe place, especially for a girl alone.” Alex picked up her spoon and resumed eating her dinner while Luke asked her questions about shooting and things they both were familiar with from living in New York.
Although Filly joined in the conversation, Arlan remained quiet throughout the meal.
After supper, Alex helpe
d with the dishes then took a turn holding Maura after Filly fed her.
Gathering in the front room, Arlan watched Alex sit by the fire, rocking back and forth with the baby in her arms. The domestic sight almost made him forget Alex deftly handled weapons at the dinner table, as if she was not only comfortable with them, but knew exactly how to use them.
Unsettled by this revelation, Arlan tried to work through why it bothered him so greatly. If Alex carried the weapons and could use them proficiently, it meant she’d been or planned to be in situations that warranted having them close at hand.
The idea of her in danger left his mouth dry and a knot in his stomach. He wanted her safe, with him, where he could protect her.
Not one given to violence, he’d toyed with any number of brutal thoughts since she admitted someone, most likely Fred, continued to torment her.
When she refused to spend the night at Luke and Filly’s place, Arlan volunteered to walk her home.
As they strolled through town in the cold darkness, Arlan struggled to hold his tongue.
He wanted to insist she stay somewhere safe, stop carrying around weaponry, and let him take care of her.
Aware she wouldn’t welcome his opinions, especially when he had no right to offer them, he glanced at her inconspicuously. He noticed her shiver. “It’s cold out tonight, isn’t it?”
She nodded her head.
“Are you chilled?”
Another nod.
Arlan tugged her off the boardwalk and around the corner of the mercantile then down a few blocks so they could walk along one of the deserted back streets. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against his side. “Is that better?”
“Much.” Alex smiled up at him and snuggled closer to him as they walked toward the school.
The sliver of moon made it possible to see a light shining in her eyes and Arlan couldn’t keep from being drawn to it.
When they reached her house, he knew the proper thing, the smart thing, to do was bid her good night and leave. Instead, he waited while she opened her door then insisted on going inside to make sure all was well. He helped her off with her coat and added wood to her stove before finally placing his hand on the doorknob.
“Thank you, Arlan, for walking me home.” Alex stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his chin.
That simple touch provided all the encouragement he needed to wrap her in his arms and plunder her sweet, ripe lips with his own.
Long moments later, he raised his head and studied her face in the muted light from the lamp she’d lit on the kitchen table.
“I need to go home.”
“Yes.” Alex agreed before tugging his head to hers for another kiss. She pulled back and gave him a coy smile. “Have a good night, Arlan.”
“You as well, Alexandra.”
The sound of him saying her full name made a shiver thread up her spine. She watched him disappear as the darkness swallowed him from view.
Content and happy, she shut the door and bolted it, grateful for so many good things in her life, but especially for Arlan. Even though she’d be leaving in a month, she knew her heart would forever remain in Hardman with him.
Chapter Twelve
“You’ve done a splendid job repairing Gramps, Mr. McIntosh.” Alex rubbed her hand along the spoke of a front wheel. Painted white with a vermillion and yellow stripe, it stood out in contrast to the dark red of her wagon. “I don’t know when the wagon has looked this good. It’s almost like new.”
Douglas McIntosh grinned. “It was a challenge to get all the repairs just right, but a pleasure to work for such a kind lady.”
Alex bestowed a favorable smile on him as she walked around the wagon again, admiring the refreshed appearance.
Clearly pleased with her appreciation of his efforts, Douglas grinned. “I’m hoping you’ll see fit to share your secrets of how you do your magic tricks.”
“I don’t share my secrets, Mr. McIntosh. Not with anyone.”
The blacksmith pointed to a latch on the side of the wagon. “I couldn’t help but notice the…”
“As a wise man once said, ‘Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.’” Arlan strode inside the blacksmith shop with a jovial smile on his face, interrupting Douglas.
Alex laughed. “Still quoting Ben Franklin, Mr. Guthry?” At his nod, she shook her head. “Since I’m still unwilling to share my secrets, I guess the two of you are safe for today.”
Douglas chuckled and thumped Arlan on the back. “What can I do for you, my friend?”
“I thought I’d take Orion out for a run. He’s been cooped up all week.” Arlan pointed to where his horse stood waiting outside. “I noticed Miss Janowski walk inside and thought I’d see if she would like to come along.”
“Oh, I’d love to, Arlan. Can you give me a minute to saddle Bill?”
His broad smile assured her he’d wait as long as necessary.
“I’ll saddle the horse for you, Miss Alex. It’ll just take me a minute.” Douglas went through a doorway that led to his livery stable. While he saddled her horse, Alex showed Arlan the improvements Douglas made to her wagon, although he’d seen them as the blacksmith made the repairs.
While the smithy worked on the wagon, Arlan frequently stopped to check on the progress, even though it really wasn’t any of his concern. He told himself he was looking out for Alex’s best interest, but if he cared to admit it, he was curious to see if Douglas discovered how she did any of her tricks.
“Are you sure you don’t want to give away even one little secret?” Arlan wished there were some way to coax a hint out of her.
Drawn to the mischievous twinkle in his eye and the boyish grin on his face, he appeared much younger than his twenty-four years. Her gaze lingered on the dimple in his left cheek and she struggled against the urge to kiss it. “Fine. I’ll tell you one secret, but only one.”
Eagerly, he waited to hear what she would reveal.
With a sassy smile, she crooked her finger at him and motioned him closer. “Secrets must be whispered.”
Arlan welcomed any excuse to draw close to the beguiling woman and stepped forward, stopping only when the toes of his boots touched hers. As he bent his head down, his breath warmed her ear. “Is this close enough?”
“Quite,” she said, flustered by his proximity and peppermint-laced breath swirling around her.
Tilting her head upward, she brought her lips close to his ear. “Perception is always greater than reality.”
When he pulled back and gave her a confused glare, she laughed.
“You wanted a magician’s secret and that is one of the first my father taught me.”
Disappointed, he remained silent as Douglas approached leading her horse.
“Here you go, Miss Alex. Ol’ Bill is ready for a ride.”
“Thank you ever so much, Mr. McIntosh. I greatly appreciate it. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Alex led Bill outside. Before she could stick her foot into the stirrup, Arlan clasped her waist and boosted her up.
Shocked at the ease with which he lifted her, she settled herself on the saddle and watched as he mounted Orion in one smooth motion.
He motioned for her to precede him, but she shook her head. “No, you’re leading the adventure today.”
Inclined to disagree, Arlan instead urged his horse forward, directing him out of town heading south.
Once they topped a rise and left Hardman behind them Alex rode up next to him. “Do you want to race?”
Arlan glanced at her then Bill. She could outride him any day of the week, but he wasn’t sure the older horse could keep up with Orion. Snow covered the ground, but the powder on the road was light and the surface didn’t seem slick.
With nothing to lose, he grinned. “Why not? Where to?”
“To the top of that next hill.” Alex pointed down the straight stretch of road ahead. “If I win you have to buy me dinner at the restaurant.”
Arlan nodded in agreement. “
If I win, you have to make me dinner, with more of those cookies you baked a while back.”
Alex stuck out her hand and shook his. “It’s a deal. On the count of three. One… two… three!”
Barely registering Alex had given the countdown, Arlan glanced up to see her racing down the road. “Run, Orion! Run!”
The horse took off and made good headway gaining on the competition, but Alex had enough of a head start he didn’t catch her before she topped the hill.
Just seconds behind her, he slowed Orion to a walk as she leaned forward and hugged Bill around his neck. “Good boy, Bill. Good boy!”
The horse shook his head, as if he knew he’d done well and gave Arlan a glance he could have sworn looked disparaging.
They turned down a side road and Arlan led the way to a grove of trees along a creek then dismounted. The air held a frigid bite although the sun shone brightly overhead, making the undisrupted blanket of white around them sparkle with an iridescent glow. It was a typical Hardman December with cold snowy days interspersed with bright spurts of glorious sunshine.
After breaking the surface ice and letting the horses drink from the creek, Arlan kicked the snow away from some grass beneath the trees for them to graze then brushed the snow off a fallen log with his sleeve.
He dug into his pocket and removed a handkerchief, draping it over the log for Alex.
“I appreciate your gallant efforts, but I’m wearing pants, too.” She smiled at him as she took a seat and tugged on his hand for him to join her.
Intentionally brushing their shoulders, he sat close beside her. “I noticed.” Arlan glanced down as she stretched her long legs in front of her and crossed them at the ankle.
He studied her from the snow-dusted toes of her knee-high boots to the dark hair she’d twisted into a long braid and secured with a piece of cherry-red ribbon on the end. Pink cheeks bore witness to their race in the cold air while exhilaration glowed in her lively hazel eyes.
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