by Merry Farmer
“Mr. Garrett, please allow Muriel to continue,” she hissed.
“By all means.” Charlie nodded to a giggling Muriel. “Please continue.”
Muriel could barely get the words out through laughing as she went on with, “The man and his wife lived next door to a wonderful vegetable garden. The woman was hungry, and begged her husband to steal some of the vegetables from the garden to make a salad.”
“And I bet he did it too,” Charlie added. “Every husband worth his salt would move heaven and earth to get whatever his wife wanted, right, Mrs. Garrett?”
It took every power of concentration Olivia had not to lose her temper in front of the children. “Yes, Mr. Garrett,” she said with a forced smile. “And right now, more than anything else, your wife would like for you to be quiet and let Muriel continue with her reading.”
The light in Charlie’s eyes sparkled with mischief, as if he approved of the way she had played the game. “Yes, ma’am.” Only it wasn’t a game, and she wasn’t playing.
“The husband snuck into the garden at night and stole a head of lettuce, carrots, radishes, tomatoes, and many other delicious things,” Muriel read on. She reached the end of the page, and the satisfying rustle of the class turning pages settled Olivia’s nerves a bit.
“Joseph, would you like to continue?” Olivia addressed a small, quiet boy sitting two benches in front of Charlie. Joseph was not the best reader. With any luck, Charlie would respect that, be kind to the boy, and let the class settle into the lesson.
Eyes round and face pale, Joseph nodded and began in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “Th-the w-wife loved the s-salad so much th-that she a-asked her hu-hu-husb…”
“Husband,” Charlie prompted, surprisingly gentle. Olivia frowned, watching to see how Joseph would react.
“Husband,” Joseph went on, lowering his head, pink staining his cheeks. “…to go b-back for more.” He let out a breath at the end of the sentence as though he’d run a mile. “But this t-time, when the h-husband r-r-re-ret…”
“Returned,” Charlie said. Joseph twisted on his bench and glanced at Charlie with pleading eyes. Charlie nodded in understanding, raised his primer, and continued reading, “But this time, when the husband returned to the garden to steal more vegetables, he was caught red-handed by the witch who owned the garden. The witch raised her hand to strike the husband dead, but he dropped to his knees and begged—”
“Mr. Garrett, I don’t recall asking you to continue the reading,” Olivia sighed.
Once again, the children glanced between her and Charlie, waiting to see if the grown-ups would fight.
Charlie lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I saw that young Joseph was in trouble, and when a man of honor sees a child in trouble, he is duty-bound to help. Remember that, boys,” he added for the older students around him.
Olivia pressed her lips together. They were bound to shrivel up and fall off, she was pursing them so much today. “A noble concept,” she agreed, “but if we do not struggle through difficulties and persevere in the face of challenges, how will we learn?” She addressed her question to her students.
“Ah.” Charlie nodded. “Very true. But what if we find ourselves in over our heads? Isn’t the best way to learn in challenging situations to have someone to guide us? Isn’t that what teachers are for?”
Olivia wanted to stamp her foot with impatience. He was right, but it was the wrong time for the lesson. Joseph was never going to improve his reading if someone always rushed to his rescue.
She shifted her weight, a surprise smile coming to her lips as an idea struck her. “I know. Mr. Garrett, why don’t you move to the front row to sit beside Joseph? Joseph will read, and if he runs into trouble, you will assist him in sounding out the words.”
A tiny part of her hoped that Charlie would get bored of helping a child, particularly if it meant he wasn’t the center of attention. When his smile grew as dazzling as the sun and he stood to move and said, “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Olivia’s heart sank and trembled.
Charlie edged his way around the benches to sit on the front bench beside Joseph. Young Joseph glanced up at him with adoring eyes, as if Charlie was a hero instead of a menace.
“I stopped right here, young man.” Charlie pointed to the spot on the page where he’d stopped reading. “Go on. I’m right here if you need me.”
Joseph grinned, revealing that his two front teeth were missing. “…begged the w-witch to sp-spare his life,” he continued reading. “The witch said, ‘I will sp-spare your life if you give me the ch-child your wife is c-ca-car—”
“You can do it.” Charlie spoke softly. “Car— you’re halfway there already.”
“Car-carrying.” As soon as he spoke the word, Joseph turned a brilliant smile up to Charlie.
Olivia’s heart hitched in her chest at the way Charlie rubbed Joseph’s head in congratulations. Rogue though he was, he looked so natural, so handsome, sitting by Joseph’s side, helping him with an open heart. It was as if the man was meant to be a father.
He was meant to be a father, and Olivia was his wife, which meant….
“Catherine, would you please continue to read?” She turned away from Charlie, clearing her throat when the words came out rough and filled with emotion.
“Yes, Mrs. Garrett,” Catherine giggled. She and the rest of the girls knew full well what the blush on their teacher’s face and the sparkle in her husband’s eyes meant. “The husband was heartbroken, but he agreed. When the baby girl was born, the witch took her away and named her Rapunzel.”
Olivia tensed, waiting for Charlie to make a comment. Instead, he was focused on Joseph’s primer, holding a finger over the words as Catherine read.
“Rapunzel grew to be a cheerful and happy girl,” Catherine continued. “Her hair grew long and golden, and she could sing like the birds of the heavens. But as she grew into a woman, the witch feared that she would leave, and locked Rapunzel in a high tower with one room and one window.”
Still no comments from Charlie. Inch by inch, Olivia’s back relaxed and her breathing returned to normal. Sly fox though he was, it seemed that Charlie would let the rest of the lesson continue in peace.
Cards and whiskey with toughened gamblers may have been entertaining and what Charlie was used to, but sitting in Olivia’s trail school, watching the care and affection with which she taught her class was one of the most enjoyable things he had experienced in a long time. Marrying her may have been a joke, but Olivia was without a doubt the finest wife a man could have asked for. She positively glowed as she encouraged the young minds in her school to grow. When Pete called out his warning that they would be hitting the road again soon, and as class was dismissed and the benches cleaned up, a new, pulsing idea took hold in Charlie’s heart.
What if this marriage wasn’t a joke? What if he could convince Olivia that she was the wife for him and he was the husband for her? It would take as much effort on his part to be the man she deserved as it was for young Joseph to read aloud, but hadn’t he already made a promise to turn his life around? Wasn’t Olivia exactly the sort of positive influence that Josiah Hurst had urged him to find?
“Thank you, Lucy. You can go get your wagon ready now,” Olivia told her friend as Lucy shuffled a pile of primers into her arms.
“If you’re certain you don’t need more help.” Lucy glanced from Olivia to Charlie as he sauntered up to them. A playful grin tweaked the corners of her mouth.
“If Mrs. Garrett needs any help, I’ll be the one to give it to her.” Charlie tipped his hat to Lucy.
“I’m sure you will,” Lucy replied, almost as an aside to herself, then skipped off to prepare her wagon to roll on.
As soon as she’d left, Olivia sent Charlie a wary, sideways look and went about her work. Most of the benches had been retrieved by their owners—parents of the students who agreed to loan them in exchange for education on the trail—but the one that Charlie had donate
d to the cause was still resting at what had been the front of the classroom. It held a box of slates and chalk, and an empty crate where Olivia deposited the primers.
“That lesson was very educational.” Charlie slid close to her side. “I’m glad I decided to attend this morning.”
Olivia huffed out a breath, and as she stood from putting away the primers, she turned right into Charlie’s arms. It was exactly where Charlie wanted her to be, and even though she jumped in surprise as he hooked his arm around her waist, she didn’t push away.
Yes, a man could do much worse than to hold a beautiful, energetic woman in his arms. Granted, Olivia could have used a few extra pounds on her to give him something to hold onto and snuggle with, but she was lovely just the way she was. Even out on the trail, she smelled of flowers and sunshine, good enough to eat. He leaned closer, daring himself to sample the soft skin of her cheek.
At the last moment, she placed both hands on his chest and pushed away. “I have work to do.”
Charlie slackened his hold, but didn’t let her go. “You know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you, Mrs. Garrett?”
“An old wives tale.” She frowned, but her hands flat against his chest lost their tension. Her fingers reached up and her eyes dropped to study what she was doing.
“But you’re not an old wife, you’re a new one. Seems to me like we should make more of that fact than we have.” He leaned closer to her, lips hungry to meet hers.
She tilted her head up to him, but not in willing acquiescence. Oh no, her mouth closed in a tight line and her brow furrowed further. “Mr. Evans has called for the wagon train to move out. Some wagons are already lining up. I’m not finished packing away the school yet, and you want to play the love-struck fool?”
Charlie’s grin widened. His fingertips pressed into the flesh of her middle. “Madam, I never play the love-struck fool. When I look into your beautiful eyes and study the lines of your face and figure, I am a love-struck fool.”
Half a dozen emotions crossed through Olivia’s expression at once—everything from frustration to deep, pulsing hope. He latched onto the hope and the longing that sparked around her. She was so sweet that he felt it from his head to his heart to his groin. Especially his groin.
She growled, pushing away from him in earnest. This time Charlie let her go. There was no point in holding onto her when she didn’t want to be held. His challenge was to inspire her to want closeness and more. Much more.
“Life is not about play and frivolity, Charlie. It’s about being productive, doing your job, and being a useful member of society.”
At least she’d called him Charlie.
“Then let me be useful to you, Sweet Pea.” He scooped up the box of slates. It was heavier than he supposed it would be. Was this the sort of burden that his darling Olivia was used to carrying all the time?
Olivia scowled and opened her mouth as if she were about to cuss him out. She must have thought better of it. Her mouth closed and she softened her posture. “I do need help cleaning these things up as quickly as possible.”
“Then let me be your man.” As deftly as he could, Charlie lifted the crate of primers into his other arm. Together, the two boxes made an awkward burden, but when Olivia failed to hide the light of admiration in her eyes at his ability to carry it all, he ignored the pain. Olivia picked up the bench, and the two of them headed down the line of camps being struck to his wagon.
“If I had known what a fine teacher you were, I would have dropped down on one knee and proposed to you far sooner than I did,” Charlie made conversation.
Olivia arched a fine brow. “You didn’t drop to one knee at all. You won a hand of cards.”
“I won a hand in marriage,” he corrected her, then added, “And I’ll have to do the whole getting down on one knee bit as soon as possible.”
“Please don’t,” Olivia requested, as polite as if she were having tea with the queen.
“That settles it.” The moment they reached his wagon, he plunked the awkward crates into the wagon bed, then dropped to one knee, heedless of getting dust on his expensive trousers. “Olivia Garrett, would you do me the great and wonderful honor of being my wife?”
Olivia stared at him. The color on her cheeks intensified. She froze where she was, bench still in her arms. Then, at long last, as his knee was beginning to grind against a stone where he knelt, she shook her head and slid the bench into the wagon bed.
“I’ve already married you,” she said. “No need to ask me to do it again.”
“But as you so rightly reminded me, I never asked in the first place.”
Her jaw tightened, she looked to the heavens, hands planted on her hips—lovely, shapely hips at that. He’d like to see what those hips could do. But for now, he’d settle for vexing the living daylights out of her to see the fire in her eyes.
“Fine,” she sighed at last. “If you insist on asking, yes. I’ll marry you. I already married you. I am a woman of honor, and I will always remain true to my word.”
Something about the statement that she would always remain true—to her word or to anything—sent a bolt of affection and longing through Charlie that went far beyond his teasing. He would never in his life bet on anyone saying they’d stay true to him.
He rose, inching closer to her and reaching for her waist again. This time, she didn’t seem as surprised as she had at the makeshift school, but she still jolted in his arms—as if his touch excited her. He could only hope.
“Perfect,” he hummed. “I accept your acceptance.”
He caught her up in a tighter embrace, slanting his lips over hers before she could push or protest. He must have taken her by surprise, because rather than wrenching away and giving him the slap across his face that he deserved, she softened against him, lips parting just enough to allow him to slide his tongue against hers in imitation of what else he’d like to slide into her.
But it was her gentle sigh of relief, the way she swayed into him, the eagerness with which she accepted the invasion of his tongue that truly set Charlie’s blood boiling. The surprise of her reaction sent his head spinning and his control stretching to its limits. He moved his hand up her back, pressing her chest against his and deepening their kiss.
This. He could have all this and her sweet, loving nature too, if only he played his cards right.
“Move on out, folks.”
Pete’s call from further up the line of wagons broke the spell over both of them. Charlie felt it like a hand slapped to his back and straightened, letting Olivia go. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his swollen lips.
“That’s my kind of sugar,” he told her, a little more breathless than he wanted to be.
Olivia blinked once, then several times rapidly. She pressed her fingers to her lips and stepped away, averting her eyes as though she couldn’t believe what she’d done.
“Where’s the harm in it?” Charlie asked. “As you said, we’re already husband and wife. It makes perfect sense to skip straight from the proposal to the wedding night.”
“Wedding night?” she snapped, her voice a high squeak. “We’ve just been told to move out.”
Her shock was adorable. The spark in her eyes was priceless.
Charlie shrugged, feigning calm. “Well then, we’ll simply have to wait until the wagons stop tonight to proceed with the wedding night activities.”
Just as he’d hoped, she gasped, face flaring bright red. And yet, there was more than a hint of excitement in those sky-blue eyes of hers. A girl with her background and manners must have been a virgin, but she didn’t seem like the sort who wanted to stay that way forever.
As soon as he completed the thought, her scowl returned. “We may be married, but we certainly haven’t known each other long enough for that.”
Charlie laughed. He couldn’t help it. Her innocence was delightful. “My dear, there are countless men and women across this wide world who have done a great deal more, while knowing ea
ch other far less than we do.” He punctuated his comment with the kind of wink that suggested he knew what those things were. Indeed, he did, not that he was entirely proud of it.
Olivia gaped at him, then narrowed her eyes and huffed. “Well.” That was it. She followed by shaking her head. “Mr. Evans said we should move out, which means the oxen need to be hitched in a hurry. Do you want to do it or should I?”
Charlie found it entirely believable that Olivia would storm up to the front of his wagon and hitch the ox team herself. “We can do it together,” he said. As they headed up toward the front of the wagon, the entire train moving and jostling and chattering around them, he added, “I’m quite certain there are a whole world of things we could do together.”
Chapter Five
Olivia hadn’t slept well in a week, and it wasn’t because of the oddness of sleeping out on the open prairie, far from civilization. The trail wasn’t as remote as it had been a generation ago. There were waystations and forts every few days where pioneers could purchase supplies or talk to someone new for a few moments. She was surprised when one of those stations had a box of chalk for purchase so that she could replenish her school’s supply. But when Charlie insisted on paying for it? That was why she couldn’t sleep.
“Any other woman would have accepted the gift of chalk as though it was her right,” Charlie teased her as he leaned against the side of the wagon.
Olivia sent him a sideways scowl and continued sorting through her newly-laundered clothes. “I could have paid for something that simple myself.”
“Why would you want to do that when you have a husband to pay your way?” Charlie chuckled. “Marriage unites more than just our hearts and minds, it unites our bank accounts as well.”
She arched her brow, fixing him with a flat look, then turned away. It sounded too much like the arguments for marrying Silas that had been thrown at her. The trouble was, Charlie had a point. Marriage was about uniting to take on the world as one, but Charlie had left out one crucial kind of uniting, one that he hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to attempt since the day he kissed her after school.
