Winning the Schoolmarm: Wyoming Legacy (Wind River Hearts Book 14)

by Lacy Williams

  He listened with rapt attention as Laura babbled a story about one of the farm dogs, even as he wrote letters on a slate under Leo’s instruction.

  She couldn't help watching him, and it seemed she couldn't keep her heart out of her eyes, because he smiled a slow smile when he caught her looking. His gaze was warm, and she found herself captivated against her will.

  She grew flustered and excused herself to her room. Why couldn’t she catch her breath?

  A soft knock preceded her mother into the room. Sarah shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed next to Cecilia.

  "Why did you never write about John?"

  Cecilia dropped her eyes. "I did. He's my boss. Remember, I wrote you about the Granbury school board."

  “That's not what I meant."

  She should've known her mother was too intuitive not to notice the sparks flying between them.

  She pressed her hands against her burning cheeks. "There's nothing… we aren’t—” She shook her head.

  "So this is a new development?”

  “We’re friends. There's nothing more between us," she blurted. She raised her eyes to her mother, begging Mama to understand when Cecilia herself couldn't.

  "But you want there to be?" Mama asked softly.

  Cecilia shook her head. But that wasn't entirely true, so she nodded. "He wants there to be," she whispered.

  "I thought so. The way he looks at you…" At least Mama was smiling. Cecilia had worried that she would be disappointed.

  "He seems a good man. He makes a good living, I take it."

  Her words reminded Cecilia that she had unanswered questions about John.

  But this moment wasn't about those questions. It was about her own muddled feelings. And Mama seemed to realize that, placing a gentle hand over Cecilia’s on her lap. "I know that you had difficulties at your last placement. But that's no reason to think the same would happen now. From what you’ve said, John is well liked in the community."

  Cecilia swallowed against the hard knot in her throat. "It's not that."

  When she paused for too long, Mama asked, "Is this about your mother and father?"

  Of course Sarah had cut right to the heart of the matter.

  Cecilia barely remembered her father, and she vividly remembered the short days when Mama had faded away. She’d been Ruth’s age.

  Cecilia had been happy with Sarah and Oscar, well loved. She’d never felt like an intruder in their family, only a cherished daughter. But how did one take a risk when you knew how very fragile life could be?

  "I didn't realize," Mama said softly. "I thought perhaps you were hesitating because of what happened with Simon."

  Cecilia shook her head. She realized now that, while she had been flattered by Simon’s attentions, she had never truly opened herself up to him. She had always kept their conversations shallow and platonic.

  If they’d had more time together, would she have let her feelings grow deeper? She didn't know.

  She only knew that John had taken a battering ram to the thick walls she’d carefully built around her heart. He hadn't waited for permission. He'd charmed her with every word, every smile.

  And now he wanted her friendship.

  His smiles said he wanted more.

  And she didn't know whether she could take the risk.

  Mama embraced her, and Cecilia blinked back tears, safe in her arms.

  “Your heart will let you know whether he is worth the risk," Mama whispered.

  Cecilia stayed in the embrace for a long moment. She had needed the independence of living away from home. But she also needed this. The connection that only her family could give her.

  Rapid-fire knocking on the door interrupted, and Leo poked his head inside.

  Velma was quick to crowd behind him. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop him and give you a little privacy." Her words were apologetic.

  "Walt came!” Leo was almost shouting in his excitement. "Everybody's bored at the main house, and they want us to come over and keep them company. Can we go? Can we go, please?"

  John bundled up in his coat and scarf, preparing to accompany Cecilia’s family to the main house.

  He had awoken this morning with thoughts of Torres on his mind.

  The snowstorm hadn’t abated. If anything, it had grown fiercer.

  Without a way home or even a telephone to call and check on things, he determined the next best thing he could do was distract himself.

  He was keeping a running count of how many times he made Cecilia blush.

  It was two hours since breakfast, and he had reached seven. He feared she might be onto his game.

  Having her family around was an unexpected blessing. He liked them. They were good people.

  Even Oscar, who had continued to send protective glances John’s way all morning.

  He didn’t know what he would say if the man confronted him. He’d barely gotten Cecilia to agree to a friendship, and he’d had to coerce her for that.

  In the barn that morning, he’d met two of Oscar’s brothers. The four of them had worked quickly to care for the stock. Cecilia’s father and uncles had been polite. They had talked some about ranching and asked about John's business.

  But now, trapped in the house in such close proximity, John had a sense that Oscar was reading every one of the lovesick glances he couldn't seem to help himself from sending Cecilia's way.

  As the rest of the family donned their coats and mittens, Oscar’s narrowed gaze rested on John.

  John barely resisted a shiver.

  He followed the family out the door, chanting names in his head.

  Cecilia had tried to give him a primer on the folks he could expect to meet, but after the first half dozen, he’d given it up for a lost cause.

  He was right behind Cecilia as they pushed out into the near-blizzard conditions.

  "Everybody grab a hand," Oscar shouted into the wind.

  John figured the man had given the instruction so the little kids wouldn't wander off and be lost in the snow, but he took Cecilia's hand in his anyway. Her face was wrapped in the scarf so that only the top of her nose and her eyes were visible. Her gaze cut to him and he winked. Though he’d expected her to pull away, she didn't let go, her fingers curling around his.

  It didn't take long to reach a long, low building. There was so much snow that he couldn't make out where the building ended. It was clear it had started out as a smaller cabin and additions had been made over the years.

  His wish to know about Cecilia’s family had been granted this morning. She had told him how her grandfather had adopted seven sons and one daughter and about the family that crew had created together out here in the wilds of Wyoming.

  Inside, they shed their outer garments, and he found himself separated from Cecilia as she was whisked into more hugs than he could count. He was introduced around and quickly lost track of the names, as he had guessed he would. Everyone was warm and curious.

  One name he didn’t forget was Matty, the uncle who was a sheriff’s deputy. He couldn’t help his awareness of the man’s presence around the room.

  When he was introduced to Emma, he exclaimed, “The famous author!”

  The young woman shook her head. Her eyes seemed to be focused somewhere over John’s right shoulder. “I’m not famous.”

  “In Granbury you are. Cecilia is proud of you. She tells everybody that you’re related.”

  On the other side of the room, Cecilia received teasing from her uncles with good grace.

  In the commotion, John noticed Walt, the boy who had come to the door to invite them over, in an animated conversation with Velma. They shot excited glances at the adults.

  It was Walt who snuck over to Cecilia’s side. John was close enough to hear him say, "Velma and I found your old scripts. We want to put on a play while the family is all together."

  Cecilia glanced up, and her gaze snagged on his. She was his only friend here, so he sidled up to her.

&nb
sp; She was trying to keep her voice low, but he was still able to hear over the babble of other voices in the background. "I don't think so."

  "Please, please," Velma begged her sister, her hands clasped in front of her.

  Cecilia shook her head.

  Velma turned pleading eyes on him. "Mr. John, you're her boss. Can't you make Cecilia do the play with us?"

  He was pretty sure Cecilia’s sharp gaze left cuts on his skin. He raised his hands in supplication. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

  "It's nothing," Cecilia said quickly. "I wrote a skit when I was about Velma's age. That’s all.”

  "It's really good,” Velma said, “and we want to perform it. But it won't be the same without Cecilia joining in."

  "I think it sounds like a grand idea," he said, mostly just to see the pretty blush spreading up into her face. That made eight.

  Her eyes glittered, and he had a moment of unease at the sudden light in them.

  "I have just the part for you to play," she said.

  Which was how he found himself on his hands and knees, acting like a horse as one of Cecilia's young cousins gouged him in the sides with her bare heels. Maybe he should've been embarrassed, performing in such a silly way in front of her entire family—some sat in a line on one of the kitchen benches that had been dragged in while another line of them stood behind—but he found himself too busy listening to Cecilia narrate from a worn sheet of paper. The words had obviously been written by a dramatic teenager. She played up the part for the children's benefit.

  At the end of their performance, they got a rousing standing ovation. He made sure he was in line next to her as everyone grabbed hands and bowed for their audience. He squeezed her hand and winked at her again, wondering what she would challenge him with next.

  As the afternoon wore on, he was plied with another delicious meal that rivaled Mrs. Fitzgerald’s cooking. He played several games of checkers and talked to one of Cecilia’s uncles—Davy, he thought—for a long time about building a dam on one of the creeks that crossed the Whites’ property.

  And when Cecilia wielded a shy smile at him, he was talked into playing a guitar that Cecilia’s cousin scared up. It turned out that Jonas played the harmonica and they spent an hour making music while the children danced around the room.

  Laura cajoled until Cecilia was dragged into the center of the room and danced with her. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the joy written in every line of Cecilia’s face, the sparkle in her eyes, the flash of her smile. He missed a chord and had to glance down at his fingers to find his place. No hope of Oscar missing that, but the man was watching his daughters and smiling.

  For the first time in a long time, John was able to let go and enjoy the music.

  The snow let up as darkness was falling, and he knew that meant this idyllic time together would come to an end the following day. Cecilia's mother and father insisted he wasn't imposing and that he should stay the night again and plan to leave tomorrow after an early lunch. He looked forward to worshiping with the family all gathered in the big house again.

  The night was clear as they crossed the land between the main house and Oscar and Sarah's place. He walked next to Cecilia, though he didn't dare take her hand without the cover of snow to hide the action. Not with her father watching.

  The older man tapped him on the arm, and when John glanced at him, jerked his chin. "Slow up a little." Oscar's voice was low, and John didn't think anyone else heard.

  He slowed his steps. As the women and children outpaced them, Cecilia sent one look over her shoulder.

  He might've expected to see her be concerned. But the smile she gave him over her shoulder was almost smug. And then she sent him a wink.

  He shook his head, unable to stifle a smile.

  He and Oscar were barely making any progress, so it wasn't long before the women and children were out of earshot. He braced himself. Nerves tangled his stomach in knots.

  "I see the way you look at my daughter,” Oscar said. “I assume your intentions are honorable."

  The man didn't have to speak the implied threat. It was clear in his tone. He had just met a group of men who would be terrifying if John got on their bad side, one of them a sheriff’s deputy.

  He was careful to hold Oscar’s eye contact. "I admire your daughter very much. I'd like for things to be more serious between us, but I'm not sure she's ready for that."

  And he was still working out how exactly he was going to make his past disappear.

  Oscar wore a look of reluctant admiration. "She was about ten when Sara and I adopted her. She had a rough go of things, she and her sisters. I can relate because I was adopted too. Sometimes things that happen when we’re children can affect us as we grow older."

  John knew that too well. He was still contending with his own past. "It's hard for her to trust," John said.

  Oscar nodded. "If I were you, I wouldn't give her a reason to question your character.”

  The knots in John's stomach twisted tighter. Since he had met Cecilia, he had been nothing but honest. But that didn’t change his past.

  He had avoided answering her questions before, but thinking of Torres and the trouble the man could bring back into John's life made him feel sick. He’d hoped to leave the past behind forever.

  But was it really fair to Cecilia not to tell her the truth?

  Torres wasn’t the only one who could spill John’s secrets. His parents had wronged a lot of people.

  Oscar pulled John back to the conversation. "I hope you’ll keep me apprised if things get more serious between the two of you. My brother Maxwell has a telephone, and he can always get a message to me."

  John cleared his throat. "I will, of course. Thank you for your hospitality. It's been a pleasure to get to know you and your family, to get to know Cecilia in a home where it's obvious she is loved so well."

  If anything, John had moved past infatuation and started falling for her. Seeing her with her family showed him what it could be like when she had a family of her own. The warm, loving Cecilia was someone he could see himself with for many years to come.

  But if she knew the truth about him, would she reject him completely?

  15

  Cecilia watched the snowy white landscape go by as John drove the sleigh back toward Granbury.

  Everything was covered in white. Trees, woodpiles, haystacks. She couldn’t discern between rocks and shrubs.

  It was as if the storm had wiped everything clean and offered a fresh start.

  She couldn’t help but wonder whether she and John would have a fresh start too.

  After Mama’s reassurances, Cecilia was finally ready to risk a relationship. Her heart was oriented toward John.

  John, who’d been all smiles as they’d taken their leave of her family.

  But the closer they got to Granbury, the more subdued he became. He hadn’t spoken in nearly an hour.

  This was not the same man who’d teased and flirted all weekend long.

  Finally, he said, "There’s something I need to tell you, and I'm not quite sure how to say it."

  The reins rested in his left hand, and he ran his gloved right palm over his mouth, the gesture betraying his nervousness.

  Her heart thumped painfully. What could he possibly have to say that was causing this nervousness? It was completely unlike him.

  “You asked me about the money I invested when Ruth and I arrived in Granbury. I haven't told anyone where it came from."

  The knot in her chest loosed slightly.

  "My parents were… not good people. When you were young, your parents probably taught you right and wrong, to tell the truth, not to take something that wasn't yours."

  She nodded slightly, unsure where this was going.

  His gaze was focused on the snow-covered road ahead. A muscle jumped in his cheek as she waited for him to go on.

  “My parents were different. My father believed that, if you saw something you wanted, y
ou took it. He believed that you should tell a lie if it would make your life easier or get you what you wanted. My parents used other people. Sometimes, they convinced people of their dire straits and conned them out of food or shelter. Sometimes it was worse than that. Sometimes they would run a confidence game where they scammed multiple people out of their hard-earned money.”

  What was he saying? She was barely breathing. She could hardly believe what John was telling her.

  “When I was a kid, I didn't know any better. I thought that everyone told lies. Everyone got away with tricks. But as I got older, I noticed that what my parents were doing hurt people. Turns out, even though they hadn’t taught me, I knew right from wrong, and I wanted to do right."

  She couldn’t imagine living life in that way. Taking what you wanted with no thought of consequences.

  And for John to realize that his parents had taught him wrong… How could she help but admire him? Not everyone would’ve made good choices under those circumstances.

  "The older I got, the more daring their escapades. My pa robbed a stagecoach once. After that, he seemed to enjoy risky things. Meanwhile, I tried to find a way out."

  He was still staring into the distance. He hadn’t glanced at her once.

  "Ruth came along, and most of the time I was looking after her. I didn't always know what my parents were up to. And then my father hatched a scheme to rob a bank."

  Of all the things she might've expected him to say, this wasn't it. John had helped so many people in Granbury. Was he trying to tell her that he had been part of a bank robbery?

  "I was supposed to wait outside with the horses. Something went wrong, and although they did end up stealing the money, they both got shot. That's how they both died, though it happened after our escape.

  "I didn't know what to do. I had Ruth to think of. If I took back the money and turned myself in, I would end up in prison, and what would happen to her then? My parents didn't have any friends, none that I’d trust anyway. After all their cheating and lying, they couldn’t stay friends with anybody…”