“You’re right.” He paused and contemplated her. “You’re quite wise for one so young, Miss Fairbanks.”
She chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know about wise. Sometimes I consider myself more weary than anything.”
“Whatever it is, thank you for using it on our behalf.” He smiled at her, and her heart did a little flop. No—this wasn’t good. Flopping was most definitely not allowed.
“Mr. Parnell didn’t find much sympathy for Madeline’s situation, but she did say she didn’t have the chance to explain her feelings,” Cina said, hoping that a change in subject would bring her beating heart back under control.
“Oh?”
“Yes. He asked me to make sure she’s less emotional from now on.”
Captain Spencer pressed his lips together. “It sounds to me like a visit to Mr. Parnell might be in order.”
“I agree—and I’d especially like to know where he was when the boys were chasing Madeline around during recess. I know that a teacher can’t be everywhere at once, but surely he should be aware of what was going on.”
The captain stood up. “May I leave the girls here with you a little while longer, Miss Fairbanks? I’d like to speak with Mr. Parnell and see if we can’t arrive at some sort of understanding.”
“Of course. Mr. Gray won’t be coming by this afternoon, so I’m perfectly free.”
“Mr. Gray? Darius Gray?”
“That’s right. He’s my potential match.”
“Oh.” The captain paused. “I’d almost forgotten that’s your real reason for being in town. I’m surprised Redburn lined you up with him—he seems . . . well, a bit boring, and you’re so full of life. I shouldn’t be saying, that, though. I’m sure he’s a good man.”
“He is a good man.” He was also a bit boring, but Cina didn’t say that aloud. If Darius Gray was to become her husband, it wasn’t right to be saying negative things about him, however true they might be.
Captain Spencer met her eyes, opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, and then gave a nod instead. “Thank you for watching the girls. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
Cina watched him go, her heart pounding. What had he been about to say? Whatever it was, it was mostly likely inappropriate. They shouldn’t be discussing her courting status or anything else along those lines.
She turned resolutely and entered the house to find the parlor empty, but she heard voices coming from the kitchen. When she reached the doorway, she saw that Beans had put an apron on each girl and they were happily stirring something up—Madeline in a large bowl, and Summer in a small one.
“They wandered in asking for a drink of water, then asked if they could help,” Beans said with a shrug. “I figgered you wouldn’t mind—but let me tell you somethin’. These are the only womenfolk I’ll allow in my kitchen.”
Cina tried to hide her smile. Beans was supposed to be teaching the brides to match the culinary arts, but he had refused, and he’d gone back and forth with Mr. Redburn on that a number of times. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
“Is Daddy here?” Madeline asked, looking up with a dab of flour on her cheek.
“He came, but then he remembered something else he had to do. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The little girls didn’t seem to mind, and bent back to their tasks.
Cina stayed in the kitchen to keep the girls from getting underfoot, but it was with the clear understanding that she wasn’t to touch anything, knock anything over, or rearrange anything. “That’s the trouble with women,” Beans explained. “They’ve always gotta have their own systems for doin’ everything. But I’ve got my own system, and I don’t take it kindly when I come walkin’ in my kitchen and can’t find a thing.” He fixed Cina with a look. “I don’t suppose you know anything about cookies bein’ made in here recently.”
She opened her eyes wide. “I promise, I didn’t make any cookies in here. Ever.”
He scrutinized her a moment longer, then turned away with a grunt. “Well, someone did. They think they’re clever, but I know my kitchen.”
When Captain Spencer came back to collect the girls, he found them in good spirits and more than a little bit floury.
“How did your talk with Mr. Parnell go?” Cina asked him while the girls washed their hands.
“He was, of course, oblivious to why Madeline was upset today, and he promised not to be so hasty to judge next time,” the captain replied. Cina noticed a spark of fire in his eyes, and she wondered how much of that fire had rained down on Mr. Parnell. “He also mentioned that you spoke with him.”
“And did he say that I gave him a hysterical lecture?” She tried not to sound sarcastic, but it was difficult.
“No, he was actually impressed. He said you refused to enter into an argument, even though it was clear you had differing views.”
“I would have argued with him if it would do any good, but I could see it would be a waste of time. A person whose mind does not want to be changed will not listen to any rebuttal, no matter how intelligent it might be.”
The girls finished drying their hands and ran outside, looking at all the flowers coming up in the yard. Cina and the captain stood on the porch watching them.
“Madeline looks worlds better than she did an hour ago,” Cina commented.
“And I thank you for that.”
“Oh, I really had nothing to do with it. All the credit should go to Beans.”
“Beans? Redburn’s cook?”
“That’s right. He actually let them help in the kitchen when they asked, and he never lets anyone step foot in his kitchen.”
The captain laughed. “Be that as it may, you still deserve a large portion of that credit, Miss Fairbanks. We’ve just met you, and already, you’re proving a very positive influence in our lives. Er, the girls’ lives.”
“They’re wonderful children. Believe me, I’m equally as glad to have met you.”
He gave a nod, then called out, “Load up, Spencers! We need to get back to the fort.”
They scampered over to the carriage and tried to climb up, but it was a little too high for them. Cina chuckled as she watched them try.
“I think they need a boost,” she said.
“Another few years, and they won’t,” he replied. “Time is passing by far too quickly.”
“It does that, especially with children.” She watched them another moment, then turned to catch his gaze on her intently. Those eyes . . . They took her breath away.
“I . . . I hope things go better from here on out. With Mr. Parnell,” she said, casting around wildly for something professional-sounding to say.
“I’m sure they will. Thank you again, Miss Fairbanks.” The captain touched the brim of his hat, then strode down the walk to the carriage to help the girls in.
Cina backed up until she was leaning against the door as she watched him. This wasn’t good—this definitely wasn’t good. If he could make her heart race like that just by looking at her . . .
She’d better tidy up the parlor before one of the other brides to match took a suitor in there. It wouldn’t do to have papers and pencils everywhere.
As she cleaned up, she realized she’d never seen the girls’ finished pieces of art. She smiled as she looked at them. One showed a mother holding a baby in her arms, and the other showed a woman holding a pan with smoke rising out of it, but with a big smile on her face. Tears rose unbidden to Cina’s eyes as she tucked the drawings away carefully. Mrs. Spencer had left a mark on the world—she would be remembered by her husband and her daughters, and they’d likely tell stories about her to their children. What a beautiful thing it was to have a family heritage. Even though she died young, she wouldn’t be forgotten.
Cina then picked up the next picture on the table, one of a woman holding a book. “Miss Fairbanks” was scribbled beneath the image, badly spelled and crooked, but unmistakable. The woman had a little heart for a mouth, and she looked very elegant. Cina tr
aced it with her finger. It was the most beautiful pencil sketch of herself she’d ever seen, not because it was well done, but because it was so sweet. She hoped it was meant for her to keep because she wanted to tuck it away in her box of treasures and hold on to it forever.
Chapter Seven
“Mr. Redburn?”
Chance Redburn looked up from his desk. Papers were scattered all over the surface and Cina could tell she was interrupting him at a bad time, but she didn’t think there actually was a good time. “Yes, Miss Fairbanks?”
She took a few steps into his office. “I wondered . . . well, that is to say, I have a question.”
He laid down his pen. “Seems there’s a lot of that going around lately. Have a seat.”
She sat in the chair across from him, but perched on the edge rather than scooting back. She didn’t feel like she could relax—her conflicting emotions had made her tense. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know you and Violet are sorting things out and getting everything arranged the best you can, but . . . I’m just not sure that Mr. Gray and I are going to be a match. I’ve tried and tried to get along with him, and it seems pointless.”
“Hmm. Is he being unkind to you?”
“No. He’s not being anything to me. He’s as boring as a plain white wall, and he has the personality of one too.”
“Hmmm,” Mr. Redburn said again. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Miss Fairbanks, do you know what I do when my cattle won’t breed?”
She blinked. That seemed like a sudden and somewhat inappropriate change of subject. “No, I don’t.”
“I leave the two of them in the corral, and sooner or later, they change their minds. Now, most cattle will breed right off. They understand that’s their job. But there are always those who need that extra little bit of time. Whether they’re just being stubborn or need to think about it, I don’t know, but sure enough, if I leave them alone, they’ll set things right eventually.”
Cina’s cheeks felt warm. “But you do realize we’re not cattle, Mr. Redburn.”
“It’s been my experience that creatures are creatures, whether they’re people or cows, and they’re all pretty much the same under their hides.”
“So, you’re suggesting that I give Mr. Gray a few more chances.”
“Exactly. Some just need a little more adjustment than others.”
“I suppose I can do that. Thank you.”
Cina slipped out of the room before Mr. Redburn could compare her situation to any more cattle-breeding techniques. Being a former rancher, things like that were natural to him, but they certainly weren’t to her, and she definitely didn’t like being compared to a cow. She didn’t think anyone would.
Giving Mr. Gray a few more chances . . . She’d only been in town a short while, but it felt like she’d already given Mr. Gray more chances than any one person really needed. If they were supposed to be together, surely they wouldn’t be getting off to such a slow start. They’d be finding things in common—or at least, interesting differences to talk about. She should anticipate seeing him again. She should get excited when she heard his voice at the door. That’s how things should be going, if this was a proper courtship.
That’s how she felt when she knew Captain Spencer was coming.
Stop it, she told herself. She’d only known him a short time too, and she’d only learned that day that he was a widower. Not only that, but he wasn’t one of Redburn Matchmaking’s clients. She needed to see how things went with Darius Gray. She owed that much to Mr. Redburn for bringing her out here. She remembered her promise to her aunt, though—she wasn’t going to settle. Darius would have to show some sort of . . . well, anything, really. A sense of humor, a touch of compassion—something that would make him seem more human and less artificial. Then they’d be getting somewhere.
The next few days were utter chaos. Through a series of horrible events, Myrakle’s little dog, Dumpling, had been killed, and the girl took to her bed, inconsolable. Mrs. Clements, who had been her chaperone, and each of the brides to match took turns bringing her food and trying to cheer her, but it was impossible. Cina understood—Dumpling had been Myrakle’s companion for years and was trained to help her in situations where hearing was essential. None of them knew how they were going to help their friend through this tragic loss.
“It seems to me as though this might be a good thing,” Darius said as they strolled home after church, where they had sat together and no doubt set tongues wagging. “Perhaps she was growing too dependent on the animal, and now she can stand on her own two feet.”
Cina stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, nearly causing Jasmine, who was walking behind her, to run her over.
“Cina, you can’t just stop like that! You know I’ll send us both tumbling into the dirt.”
“I’m sorry,” Cina mumbled. She hadn’t meant to knock the already ungraceful girl off balance.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m in a forgiving mood.” Jasmine gave her a smile, then ducked around her to continue down the street. Cina, however, couldn’t move. She felt rooted to the spot.
She waited until a few other churchgoers had passed by and were out of earshot. “You think Myrakle was too dependent on her dog?” she repeated, hoping she’d misunderstood.
Darius shrugged. “I don’t know her at all, and of course, I’m not familiar with the situation, but perhaps.”
How could he think that? “And I suppose that a lame person could be too dependent on their cane or their wheeled chair, or a blind person on their guide?”
“I . . . No, I don’t suppose so.”
“Then don’t suppose to know anything about Myrakle and her situation. Honestly, Darius, that was such an unkind thing to say.” She tried to keep the rancor out of her voice, but it crept through anyway.
His face fell. “I’m sorry, Cina. I truly am. I wasn’t thinking.” He reached out and touched her elbow, looking sheepish. “Sometimes I say too much, pretending that I know more about a topic than I do. It’s a failing of mine, one I’m working hard to correct.”
Cina blinked at him. “Did . . . did you just admit to having a failing?”
“Yes. Should I have kept that to myself?”
“No! This is the kind of honesty I’ve been wanting from you—a chance to see who you are on the inside.”
He scrutinized her. “You seem . . . happy.”
“I’m not happy, exactly—I’m still angry about what you said. But I’m glad you opened up and shared something personal with me. This is what I’ve been looking for—a crack in your shell.”
“I can’t imagine that you’d want to marry someone with cracks.”
“I want to marry someone real. Thank you for showing me that.” She paused. “Now, as far as what you said about Myrakle—do you know anyone with a profound disability?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then you can’t know what they need or don’t need. She’s actually quite independent, and Dumpling was there as a support for the times when she genuinely couldn’t act on her own. I think you’d be impressed if you got to know her.”
He considered that. “You’re right. I can’t possibly know, and I can’t judge someone else’s decisions or actions because it’s completely unfair. Again, I apologize.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile. “Now, shall we be on our way?”
“Yes, let’s.”
They resumed their walk. Mrs. Woods wasn’t with them because on a Sunday, there were enough people on the street that it would be impossible to get away with an impropriety. The idea of a chaperone was becoming more and more ludicrous to Cina anyway—in order for an impropriety to take place, there had to be some sort of attraction between the two parties involved. She knew her feelings for Darius were miles away from attraction, and he’d never indicated that he was attracted to her. Yet another mark in the book against them.
When they reached the Redburn place, Cina invited Darius to stay and hav
e some lemonade, and they sat on the veranda with their glasses.
“Are you tutoring again this week?” Darius asked.
“Yes, I believe I’ll be doing it for a while,” Cina replied. “The girls aren’t behind, but they need a little extra boost to get them through some difficult times.” She considered telling him about Madeline’s bad dream, but stopped the thought as soon as it came. That was Madeline’s private business, and she didn’t know if Darius would respect the implications of the story.
“Hmm. I’d hoped to take you out to dinner tomorrow night, but the restaurant serves a little early.”
“I might be done in time.”
“I don’t know—I saw Captain Spencer’s carriage parked out front fairly late in the afternoon on Friday, and if that’s the normal schedule . . .”
“No, it’s not. Let’s see how tomorrow goes. A restaurant sounds lovely.”
“All right. I’ll stop by, and if you’re busy, we can try another time.”
Darius finished his lemonade, bid her a good afternoon, and left, all rather quickly. She didn’t blame him for being disappointed that his restaurant plans might not work out, but he seemed to be sulking, and she didn’t find that attractive at all. It was an emotion to be sure, but one that seemed overdone. Maybe sometimes she’d prefer him to be complacent after all.
“Miss Fairbanks!”
Cina grinned as Summer ran up and threw her arms around her waist. Madeline followed behind a bit more slowly. Cina looked at the girl carefully—there were no signs of tears this time, and Cina breathed with relief. She’d been worried that after a weekend away, returning to school on Monday morning would be difficult, but everything seemed to be all right.
She saw Mr. Parnell up on the steps of the school. He seemed to notice her and took a step in their direction. No—she wasn’t up to another conversation with him. She felt she’d spent more than enough time talking with him already.
“Hurry, girls,” she said, shooing them. “Let’s go to the mercantile and get some licorice on the way home.”
Herd to Breathe Page 7
