Yeah, but would I have looked forward to it as much?
Ian rounded the corner of the schoolhouse and came to an abrupt halt. Miss Cochran stood, feet apart, both hands gripping what looked like a Colt M1911 semi-automatic pistol. She released the safety, and, taking aim at tin cans sitting on a wooden fence running along the back of her yard, she slowly squeezed the trigger. And picked off all seven cans in rapid succession.
“Wow, Miss Cochran, that was great.”
She lowered her gun, engaged the safety, and spun around. “Goodness, Ian, you startled me. You shouldn’t do that to a person holding a gun.”
He walked up to her. “I know guns. If that’s a Colt M1911, it holds seven rounds.”
“Yes, I guess you would know guns.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and walked him back toward the schoolhouse. “This will be our little secret, all right, Ian?”
“You’re a great shot. Why don’t you want anyone to know?”
“I’m not sure how proper it is for the teacher to have such a talent.”
Ian shrugged. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.” As they entered the schoolhouse, she placed the gun in the top drawer of her desk. She waved him toward the bench in front of her desk. He was such a pleasant boy and as handsome as his father.
Now where did that thought come from?
“I have a test here that I’m giving to the children around your age. It’s both arithmetic and reading. This will tell me what we need to work on.” She handed him a sheet of paper that he took and sat back down.
Priscilla returned to sorting books into grade levels. She looked up after about ten minutes when Ian stood next to her. “Do you have a question about one of the problems?”
“No, ma’am. I’m finished.”
She frowned and looked at him, taking the paper he held out. Every problem was finished and correct. “Did you read the passages for the reading part of the test?”
He nodded.
She quizzed him on the passages and he answered all those questions correctly as well.
“My goodness. You are certainly more advanced than I thought.” She headed to her desk and pulled out the arithmetic sheet for the high school-aged children. “Here, try this. It will probably be too hard, but let’s see how far you get.”
Ian settled on the bench with his pencil and the paper and bent his head. She returned to her work, wondering how she would place the children in the classroom. The school she had done her training in had classes divided into two grade levels each. It would be a challenge to have all grades in one room. She looked around the space and decided dividing the benches into grade levels might work. Especially if she put the oldest children next to the youngest ones so they could help.
About half an hour after Ian had started the test, he returned it to her desk. All thirty problems had been completed and were correct.
She looked at the paper with amazement. “Ian, who’s been teaching you?”
“My pa. He also taught me history, geography, and literature.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She tapped her pencil against her lips, a slight smile teasing her mouth. It appeared Mr. Mitch Beaumont was not at all the man she’d believed him to be.
Chapter 5
“Hi, Miss Cochran.” Ian gave Priscilla a bright smile as she left her house to join him and Mitch in their buggy. Since she’d been watching for them before Mitch had a chance to fetch her, she was already next to the buggy. She was very excited to attend the church service and the social afterward.
“I imagine automobiles are the main mode of transportation in Guthrie,” Mitch said as he helped her into the vehicle.
“There are some. Ellie’s husband, Max, owns one, and my papa bought a Ford Model T last year. He purchased it because Mama wanted to learn to drive. Although Max lets Ellie drive his automobile, he won’t let anyone else touch it. You see more of them on the roads in Guthrie each year, but most people use the trolley cars or buggies.”
“Your mama wanted to drive?”
“Oh, yes. She’s not your typical mama.” She turned toward him, “When she was only twenty-three years old, she become guardian to my four cousins and they joined the Land Run in 1889.”
“Well, that explains a lot.” He grinned in her direction.
She stiffened. “I hope I haven’t just been insulted.”
“What’s the Land Run, Miss Cochran?” Ian’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
Priscilla went on to describe the event that history books would cover for years to come. All those people lined up on the borders of Oklahoma Territory, waiting for the signal to sound at noon on April 22, 1889. She would have to be sure to cover that in her history lessons.
She had passed the church on her way into town earlier in the week, but now that she had the opportunity to take a closer look at it, she was a little disappointed. It was a nice structure but badly needed a coat of paint. The grounds around the outside were not well kept, and the pastor standing at the front door looked as if a good wind would blow him down.
“My goodness. How old is the pastor?”
“Older than God, believe me.” Mitch jumped down and helped her out of the buggy. Ian followed behind until he spotted boys his age and took off.
“Reverend David Thatcher has been here since I was a boy. That’s why the place looks like it does. He refuses anyone’s help in maintaining the grounds. He says God doesn’t care what the church looks like. The town’s been trying to convince him to retire, or at least allow us to paint and fix up the place. He’s a wonderful man, but stubborn.”
Priscilla took Mitch’s arm as they climbed the steps. Close up, the pastor looked even older and more fragile than he had from a distance.
Mitch stopped in front of the man. “Reverend, I would like to introduce you to Miss Cochran, the town’s new teacher.”
“New preacher? I’m not ready to retire. And we can’t have a woman preacher, anyway.”
His lips twitching, Mitch leaned in further. “No, Pastor, Miss Cochran is the teacher.”
“Oh, another one, eh?” He glared at Priscilla with watery blue eyes. “You gonna stick around or take off like the last one?” He shook his head. “Poor girl cried her eyes out. Didn’t like Dogtown at all.”
“No. I plan to stay for a long time. I like it here in Dogtown. The people are friendly and I’m anxious to meet all of my students Monday.”
The old man took her hand and patted it. “Good. Good. We need strong women here.”
They moved past him and into the church. Mitch spoke out of the side of this mouth. “And you don’t mind lying to a man of God?”
Anger flashed through her, and she had an urge to kick him in the shins. If they weren’t in church, she might have even done that. “I did not lie to him, and please stop this constant barrage.” She released his arm and entered a pew, muttering, “Sacré bleu! Cet homme est une douleur dans mon cul.”
Mitch almost choked on Priscilla’s referral to him as a pain in the ass. He really should tell her he understood her insults, but he was having too much fun allowing her free rein with her comments.
Ian slipped into the pew just as Reverend Thatcher toddled up the aisle to the sanctuary. Mitch’s thoughts wandered as the pastor gave his Sunday sermon. For the man’s age and decrepit appearance, he still gave a moving sermon each week. But this Sunday Mitch’s thoughts were on the woman sitting next to him in church.
No woman had ever gotten under his skin the way Priscilla had. He had the intense need to constantly remind her she wasn’t staying. He loved watching her breasts heave and her eyes flash with annoyance. Priscilla Cochran in a temper was a sight to behold. To see all that fury unleashed in bed had him hardening and shifting in his seat.
He wondered if his constant prodding was his way of reminding himself that his attraction to her was futile. Even if he was crazy enough to consider marrying—which he wasn�
�t—a woman from her background and upbringing was so far above him as to be laughable.
When a man fell in love—which he hadn’t, thank God—he become vulnerable. His pa left Canada because his ma was unhappy there. He gave up fur trapping and opened the gun shop for the same reason. She hadn’t liked him gone for weeks at a time.
And what had happened when his pa gave up those things he’d loved? She died and he was miserable until his final breath. If Mitch allowed himself to become involved with Priscilla, chances are when she packed up and caught the mail coach back to civilization, he would be left with a broken heart or forced to move from his beloved town, all his plans for the future gone.
No. It was best that he kept reminding Priscilla—and himself—the town was a passing fancy for her. He rose, along with the others, to the sound of the organ playing the final hymn, realizing he’d ruminated the entire service away.
Priscilla’s voice next to him was clear and sweet. Ian kept glancing up at him, a questioning look in his eyes, so he moved closer to Priscilla to see the hymnal. Big mistake. Her scent of lemons, sunshine, and woman assailed him, drying up his mouth, making it hard to sing.
He was in trouble.
Mitch strode to the buggy to fetch Priscilla’s contribution to the lunch. The basket of biscuits and box of cold chicken smelled wonderful. On top of everything else, the woman could cook. He would have thought a senator’s daughter had been raised with servants. He never would have guessed she would soil her hands in the kitchen.
Was it possible he’d misjudged her? No.
He added her food to the table where the women were busy arranging the food and drinks. Priscilla was right there in their midst, chatting away, laughing and generally looking as though she belonged there. He snorted and headed to the area where the men were setting up the tables and chairs.
“Pa, when we gonna eat? I’m starved.” Ian raced up to him, his shirttail hanging out, his face flushed.
“Soon. Right now you go wash up and tuck in that shirt. Then come back here and help us finish setting up. As soon as we get this all done, we can eat.”
About fifteen minutes later, the ladies called everyone to get their food. Priscilla gathered the children to her and lined them up in a proper manner. While the adults filled their plates, she bent and spoke to each child in turn, resting a hand on a shoulder, patting heads, smiling brightly. Amazingly enough they all settled down and walked quietly to the table and filled their plates.
Mitch was stunned.
Priscilla loved the look of amazement on Mitch’s face. There was nothing she loved more than seeing him baffled.
Take that, Mr. Beaumont.
Once the children had filled their plates and took seats near their families, Priscilla filled hers, her stomach growling. She turned from the table to see Mitch wave at her. Since he was the one who’d invited her to attend, it was good manners to sit with the man.
Not that she minded. Not in the least. Perhaps they could spar some more. She was really coming to enjoy their bantering. She smiled at Ian as she took the seat across from him and next to his father.
“Your chicken was delicious,” Mitch said as he pushed her chair in. “And so were the biscuits.”
“Thank you. No nasty comments?”
He took his seat alongside her. “I never make nasty comments. Only keen observations.”
Raised eyebrows were her only answer.
Pastor Thatcher lumbered to the front of the room and held up his hands. Conversation turned to whispers and then silence.
“Brothers and Sisters in Christ, I want to thank all of you for providing such a wonderful meal for us.” He rested his hand on the back of the chair in front of him, looking as if he needed a nap. “Now we come to the part of our little gathering I like most. We must talk about our Christmas pageant and celebration.”
A stout woman in a large flowery hat and an equally flowery dress stood. “Reverend, we are pleased to announce that the decision has already been made as to who will take on the job of guiding our little angels into a spectacular Christmas performance!”
The woman waited until she had everyone’s attention and then with a flourish waved her arm in Priscilla’s direction. “Our new teacher, Miss Priscilla Cochran, has graciously offered to direct our lovely Christmas concert and pageant.”
“Concert?” Priscilla leaned near Mitch’s ear and whispered.
He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Yes, indeed.”
No one had mentioned the concert to her, but how hard could it be to teach the children a few Christmas carols? She could consider it part of her music curriculum.
The enthusiastic applause died as the marshal took the pastor’s place at the head of the room. “We have a group of about six men ready to hunt down that mountain lion. If you haven’t signed up yet, come see me when this is over. We’re looking at Wednesday night.”
Ian’s chin jerked up and he leaned across the table. “Hey, Pa, you know who you should get to go with you to hunt that mountain lion?”
Priscilla glanced at the boy, giving her head a quick shake.
“Who?” Mitch said.
He looked at Priscilla and blushed. “Oh, uh, me.”
“No, you’re way too young.”
Priscilla winked at Ian and heaved a sigh of relief. Even though this was hunting territory, she wasn’t sure how receptive the townsfolk would be to a teacher who could outshoot the men.
After lunch, the ladies set up pies and cakes and coffee for everyone to enjoy before they headed home. Priscilla felt as welcome as she had at the church she’d attended back home her entire life. With a full stomach and a warm feeling inside from the friendships she’d made, she felt ready to face her students the next morning.
Mitch was called up to the front to make the final arrangements with the men on hunting the mountain lion while Priscilla gathered her things and walked with Ian out the door to the buggy.
“Why don’t you want to go with the men to hunt the mountain lion?”
Priscilla placed her hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Since I’m new here, I think it’s best if don’t talk about that right now. People have a certain idea of what a teacher should be like, and I don’t want to give them a reason to fire me.”
“Fire you! No. You’re the best teacher, ever.”
“Thank you so much, but you must wait for school to start before you can say I’m the best teacher, ever.” She smiled softly. “But I love your enthusiasm, and I hope you will be just as excited about school tomorrow morning.”
“Are we ready to go?” Mitch walked up to the buggy and took Priscilla’s hand, then helped her climb in.
Priscilla asked a lot of questions about the Christmas concert and pageant that she’d just volunteered to conduct. From what Ian told her, it would require a certain amount of work, but nothing she didn’t think she could handle.
Ever the gentleman, Mitch helped her alight from the buggy.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Ian.” Priscilla waved goodbye to the boy. Mitch walked her to the door, and she almost forgot his negative comments earlier. “Thank you for inviting me to church and the lunch afterward.”
“You’re welcome. I just hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into with volunteering to handle the Christmas concert and pageant.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” She lingered at the door, Mitch’s demeanor making her think he wanted to say something else. After a minute he tugged on the brim of his hat and walked away.
It was a quiet ride home after Mitch dropped Priscilla off. He’d had the crazy urge to kiss her when they’d gotten as far as her door. It bothered him to realize he might have done something that stupid if Ian hadn’t been in the buggy waiting for him. Now that school was about to start, there really was no reason for him to see her again, unless they just happened to cross paths on the street. He’d welcomed her on behalf of the town, gotten her settled, and now he was free to leave her to do th
e job she’d been hired for.
If she lasted long enough to do it, that was.
When he and Ian arrived home, they went their separate ways to finish up the daily chores. It gave him time to remind himself that Miss Priscilla Cochran was no longer his problem or concern. He was happy about that. Now he could concentrate on his business and what he wanted to do for the town.
He was standing by the fireplace in the parlor, leaning his arm on the mantle, poking at the fire he’d started to warm the place up a bit before bed, wondering why the place seemed so lonely and cold all of a sudden.
“Pa, I have a great idea. A way to make sure that Miss Cochran doesn’t leave Dogtown.” Ian burst into the room, excitement on his young face.
Mitch looked up at him and smiled. “And what is that, son?”
“You should marry her.
Chapter 6
Mitch stayed away from Priscilla for two whole days. During that time he behaved like a besotted adolescent, looking up with anticipation each time the door to his shop opened, then telling himself he didn’t care that it wasn’t her. But then what would she want with a gun shop anyway? She’d said she’d handled a gun or two, but most likely pinched it between two fingers, handing it off to someone else.
He was still reeling from Ian’s casual remark that he should marry Priscilla. What an outrageous idea that was. Despite the fact he didn’t want to marry, getting hitched to a woman so far above him, who most likely was already tired of the town and the few things it had to offer, had never occurred to him.
Not really.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost time for school to let out. Once Ian arrived to help out, he would stroll over to the schoolhouse. After all, it was a parent’s duty to see how his child was doing. There might be some issue she was reluctant to talk to him about, and he’d rather uncover it right away.
Merry Christmas, My Love Page 14
