by Jillian Hart
It wasn’t until she was halfway to town that she realized Shane hadn’t bid her good morning or greeted her with a smile. He hadn’t turned around once in the seat in front of her. His attention remained focused on the roads. Mud still splashed beneath the wheels, but the sun was out and drying the land. Everywhere mist rose in great cloudy ribbons from earth to sky, and beside her, Minnie scribbled a note to her best friend, preoccupied with the secrets little girls shared.
Town came into sight with children straggling toward the school. The bell was ringing by the time Shane pulled to a stop behind a long line of buggies. Horses stomped impatiently, parents called out goodbye and students scurried toward the front steps as the last toll of the bell clanged.
“We’re gonna be tardy, Shane!” Minnie folded her note into her pocket and held out her arms.
“Sorry about that.” In his big-brother way, the man swooped Minnie safely from the seat to the soggy grass and gave the ribboned end of one braid a tug. “Do good today, shortcakes.”
“I will!” Minnie beamed up at him as if he’d been personally responsible for hanging the sun. She spun away and sprinted across the lawn. “Maisie! Wait for me!”
Chuckling, Shane turned back to the buggy, back to her, the essence of him so attractive and powerful it was nearly too much to bear. She felt ensnared by invisible bonds she could not describe or understand, and she wanted nothing more than to capture the closeness they had shared yesterday in the barn. To reestablish their fun banter and trade a laugh or two.
The trouble was, he did not seem to feel the same. He did not meet her gaze. His smile faded as he held out his hand dutifully, as silent as stone.
“I hope you have an enjoyable day with the horses.” She floated instead of stepped from the buggy. When her shoes touched the ground, it came as a surprise. Being near him scrambled her senses, there was no denying it, even if he did not feel the same. She could no longer deny she liked him very much.
“I hope your day is enjoyable as well.” Oddly formal, he didn’t look at her as he spoke. He turned away and climbed into the front seat, intent on straightening the reins, which were straight and orderly to begin with. What was going on?
The male brain made no sense at all to her. He was simply going to drive off as if they were complete strangers, and after the time together they had shared? Fine, let him. A smart girl wouldn’t give the guy another thought. A sensible girl would march to the schoolhouse, where class was about to start any minute.
Because her shoes were not taking her in the direction of the front steps, she was obviously neither smart nor sensible. Her feet took her right back to the buggy and Shane. He looked up from releasing the brake, startled to see her standing there when he’d thought she had gone. His arresting blue eyes could stop the sun from rising, which was probably why she was standing in front of him and not acting like herself at all.
“Is this because I said I liked you?” she blurted out, wishing for the first time she had paid attention to her roommate Elizabeth Barker back at finishing school who had much experience and endless advice on dealing with the male gender. Shane paled, so perhaps she had been a bit overly bold. Did that make her fall silent?
Not a chance.
“You hardly so much as glanced at me this morning.” She gripped the side of the buggy and met his startled gaze. “You were talkative with Minnie and friendly with her. Then in nearly the same breath you became with me as formal as a judge.”
“I’m doing a job, Meredith. That’s all.” Strain bracketed his mouth, a poor imitation of the dimples that she liked so well. Apology shone in the depths of his irises and in his heart, which she could feel.
“I don’t understand. Of course you’re doing a job. Why else would you be driving us around?” If hurt lodged like a stone behind her rib cage, she did her best to ignore it. “You’re one of those fly-by-night men, aren’t you?”
“Fly-by-night?” A corner of his mouth quirked upward.
“You think a female is getting too close and you race off like a mustang being chased by a mountain lion.”
“And why would I do this?” The other corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were fighting amusement and, judging by the set of his eyes, sorrow.
“Because I said I liked you yesterday. Remember?” She couldn’t believe it. She smacked the flat of her hand against the side of the buggy, mad at herself. “I was talking about friendship. That was all. Surely you know that.”
“I do.” He swallowed hard, a man wrestling with something important. “I’m not sure friendship between us is a good idea.”
“Why not? You don’t like me?”
“Not like you?” He took in the endearing look of her, the vulnerability revealed in her question and in the wobble of her lush bottom lip. “Impossible. Life is better around you, Meredith. But as your father re minded me, I am here to do a job, not to make friends.”
“My father? Papa talked to you?” She looked angry. “I made him promise not to.”
“He was only looking out for his daughter.” The wind tousled a row of bouncy corkscrew curls into her eyes and before she could brush them away, he reached to do it. His fingertips grazed the petal-soft curve of her cheek, the shell of her ear and felt the impact of her sweetness. Tenderness, unbidden and new, rose up in him like a hymn too beautiful to quiet, too reverent to stop.
“What did Papa say?” Worry crinkled her forehead in the most darling way. “He insulted you, didn’t he?”
“He said nothing that wasn’t true. You have plenty of friends.” The words tore at him, but he managed to say them with a shrug. He was a man unaffected. “You don’t need me.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t.” He hated doing it because he didn’t want to hurt her, but he raised the reins and shielded his heart. “In a couple weeks, you will be teaching school somewhere far out on that prairie, and Braden and I will be working in Butte. There’s no sense in getting attached.”
“But, Shane, I don’t see why—”
“Have a good day, Miss Meredith.” He slapped the reins. Sweetie stepped forward with a slow plod. The buggy rolled a few yards away from her, shielding him from her sight.
All she could see was the black back of the vehicle slowly maneuvering away from the crush on the road—and away from her. Just like that, he’d driven away. Cast aside their friendship because her father had spoken to him.
Not exactly a man capable of great friendship.
“Hey, handsome!” A superior-sounding, very familiar voice lifted above the noise of the street and the shouts of kids scrambling toward the schoolhouse. Narcissa Bell stepped onto the side of the road and waved boldly. “What’s your hurry? I’ll see you later!”
Had Shane waved back? Had he acknowledged her in some way? Meredith worried, seeing red as Narcissa smiled. A satisfied look passed across her smug face.
“Shane is utterly the cutest.” Narcissa’s chin went up in the air, her narrow smile triumphant as if she knew exactly how deep the barb went.
Anger roared through her, but she held it in and kept the lash of the anger inside her, silent and hidden. The last thing she wanted was for her archenemy to know how much it hurt. How could Shane end their friendship, and go looking for another? And with Narcissa of all people.
No, he wouldn’t, she decided, remembering the strength of character she’d witnessed in him. Narcissa was simply going after what she wanted. No need to be upset over her. It was enough to watch the buggy rolling farther away down the street, hesitate at the corner and then turn out of sight. Why did it feel as if her very essence longed after him? As if her spirit wished for the company of his?
They weren’t even friends anymore. She brushed at the curls that had fallen in her face again, remembering the blissful kindness of his touch.
“Meredith? Are you all right?”
She felt a tug on her sleeve. Kate stood beside her with concern on her face and a question in her eyes. Was she really
standing here pining after a man for all to see? The sun was in her eyes, causing them to tear a little, and she blinked hard, turning on her heels, lifting her chin, shoring up her dignity. “I’m all right. Just lost in thought.”
“You’re going to be late. We’d better go in.”
“What? Oh, right.”
The school bell had long silenced. Narcissa was the only other student in sight scurrying up the front steps. Miss Lambert held the door open, gesturing impatiently. “Hurry, girls! You don’t want to be marked tardy.”
Meredith felt Kate pulling her along. She was aware her feet were moving. The schoolhouse loomed up ahead and so did the disapproving countenance of their teacher.
“Guess what?” Kate whispered as they rushed up the stairs. “There’s a new girl in school today. She’s got the desk behind Earlee and me. She looks nice.”
“Great.” It was as if Kate’s words had no meaning, for nothing seemed to be able to penetrate her Shane-centered thoughts. She darted past the teacher, shucked off her coat and hurried to her seat.
He couldn’t get Meredith out of his mind. Hours had passed since he’d driven away from her, and still her image of vulnerability and hurt stuck with him. He tipped his hat lower to shade his face against the cresting sun and checked the tension of the longe line. The black filly walked in a large circle, ears up, head up and her gait as smooth as silk.
If only he could enjoy the moment with the horse, the sense of accomplishment he got from seeing an animal progress and the shared camaraderie. He ought to be at peace, happily at his work. But he felt twisted up inside. Losing Meredith’s friendship tore him apart. He’d only been doing them both a favor. Mr. Worthington was right. It wasn’t practical to form attachments when both he and Meredith had plans to move on.
This wasn’t about friendship, he admitted to himself, but something more. That was why he’d agreed with Robert Worthington. The father had recognized what the daughter had not. Shane had never been in love, but he suspected he had taken the first stumbling steps on that path.
“Pretty day, isn’t it?” Braden sauntered over from the barn and leaned on the corral rails, eyes on the horse. “I didn’t think warm weather would ever come.”
“I was beginning to think the same.” Shane glanced around. It was hard to believe that snow had blanketed the ground days before. The grass sprang beneath his boots as he turned in place, handling the longe line, keeping the filly at a disciplined walk.
Around him the landscape was stunning, some of the most beautiful he’d seen of all his travels. The roll and draw of the prairie and hills were pleasing, the depth of green in the fields unparalleled, the perfect blue of the cloudless Montana sky breath-stealing.
He could get used to it here. Birds chorused as they perched on the branches of the trees in the orchard. In the next paddock over, the spring’s crop of foals stretched their long legs in bright green grass and budding buttercups. Even the wind felt warm as he shucked off his coat and kept the line he held taut. The filly had come a long way, stepping up to a trot when he commanded it.
“Good girl,” he praised. “That’s it, nice and easy.”
“You’ve done a good job with her, Shane.” Braden ducked between the fence boards and into the corral, a coiled lasso in hand. “She’s come along very well, but you would do better if you kept your mind on your work.”
Guilty. Shane winced, because he couldn’t deny it. “I know. If I’m distracted, the horse will be, too.”
“Right. When you’re done here, come help me saddle up the white gelding. You’re doing good work, Shane. I’m handing over half the two-year-olds to you. We’ll see what you can do on your own.” With a wink, Braden strode away, his compliment a strange contrast to the frustration and sense of loss Shane had been wrestling with.
Keep your mind on your work and not on the woman, Connelly. He whistled to the filly, watching her gait change as she slipped into a graceful canter. As much as he loved his work, he could not get lost in it. Meredith remained as if she were a part of him.
Concentrating on her schoolwork proved haphazard at best. Meredith rubbed at the dull ache in her forehead, turned the page of her spelling book and stared at the word on the top of the page.
“Time for lunch.” The teacher’s handbell jingled merrily, and all around her students burst out of their desks, conversation erupted and footsteps pounded down the aisle to the front door, where warm sunshine beckoned.
Finally. She closed her book, blinked to refocus her eyes and gave thanks that she had an hour to rest her weary brain. It took an astonishing amount of energy to keep her mind on the day’s tasks.
“At least we don’t have school tomorrow.” Scarlet stacked her books on her side of the desk. “A day off.”
“For you, not for me.” She hopped to her feet, glad to leave her work behind, and grabbed her book bag from beneath her seat. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be halfway through my teachers’ examinations.”
“Me, too.” Earlee hooked her bag over her shoulder. “While you all are playing, Meredith and I will be finding out if we have what it takes to be teachers.”
“As if the answer isn’t already perfectly clear.” Fiona smiled sweetly.
“Yeah, you two are the smartest in our class. You will do fine.” Lila rolled her eyes. “The rest of us will be the losers because you both will leave us behind to get your own little schools. You will have your own careers.”
“You make it sound so romantic.” Kate sighed as she fished her book bag out from under her desk. “I have no idea what I’m going to do after we graduate.”
They hadn’t taken a step down the aisle before they heard a familiar, sharp-toned voice.
“Don’t even look at me.” Narcissa’s words were pitched to rise above all the other sounds in the emptying schoolhouse. “Does it look as if I want to be friends with you? What is your name?”
“R-Ruby.” It was the new girl, seated in the last desk of the row, looking miserable with her head bowed. Meredith had been so involved with her worries and her work that she had forgotten about the morning’s addition to their school.
“I’m going to call you Rags. Look at that dress.” Narcissa sneered, pleased with herself as she turned up her nose. “C’mon, girls. Let’s go.”
A few giggles and twitters filled the air as Narcissa and her group of friends clomped down the other aisle, leaving behind the lone girl with her head still down. A blush stained her fair face as she closed her tattered spelling book, clearly a volume handed down many times. She wore a faded red calico dress, which did not look as if it had been made for her because the fabric was bright red where the seams had been let out. The cuffs of her sleeves did not reach her wrists. The several patches on her skirt were made from a different fabric and were impossible not to notice.
Meredith stopped in mid-aisle. Kate lifted one eyebrow in silent question. Lila gave a little nod. Earlee and Fiona smiled. Scarlet, ever bold, turned on her heels and marched back to the new girl’s desk, shoes striking like a hammer in the otherwise empty classroom. “Ruby?”
“Y-yes?” The girl didn’t look up at them. Her face was still red as she kept her hands busy with a battered bag she had in her lap.
“Would you like to sit with us at lunch?”
Meredith saw the surprise and then gladness on the new girl’s face. Ruby was really very lovely with porcelain features and wide, unguarded eyes.
“Oh, yes. I would like that very much.” She swept into the aisle with her bag in hand. She had the friendliest smile. The dress she wore didn’t fit much better when standing. The tops of her patched shoes were visible, as were her white stockings. “I’m afraid I’ve never been to a place like this before, so I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You’ve never been to school?” Meredith had to ask, curious.
“No, I learned at home. My family used to live up near the Canadian border. There was no school nearby.” Ruby blushed again. “I reso
lved not to make a fool of myself, but I think I just did it again, didn’t I?”
“Not at all,” Meredith assured her.
“Not a bit,” Earlee seconded.
“Not even a little,” Lila chimed in.
“Come on. We always eat lunch in the shade of the maple trees,” Kate explained.
“And when we’re done eating, we work on our sewing projects,” Fiona continued.
“And talk,” Scarlet finished, leading the way down the aisle.
“You all sew?” Ruby’s face lit up as she followed them. “I’m not very good. What are you all making?”
“A quilt.” Meredith plucked her lunch pail from the shelf above the hanging coats. “What’s your current project?”
“Me? I’m afraid I don’t have one right now.” Ruby blushed again, perhaps embarrassed, hiding her face as she chose a battered tin pail from the shelf. “I did it again. I can’t believe I said that. I’m just really nervous.”
“It’s okay.” Earlee gestured at her own dress as they all trooped down the front steps and into the sunshine. “I get nervous like that, too. I’m letting out a dress for one of my younger sisters.”
“Do you live in town?” Scarlet wanted to know.
“No. My pa took up a claim on a farm.” Ruby shrugged shyly. “This is such a big town. I’ve never been around so many people.”
A big town? Meredith bit her bottom lip to keep from pointing out that Angel Falls, while a nice place to live, was a small settlement and their school humble enough to house all classes in one room.
“You must have lived in a very small town,” Meredith said as they settled on one of the benches beneath the circle of maples. The younger children were cross-legged on the grass, pails scattered about, nearly done with their lunches. Some of the boys were already playing kickball.
